Gin-Soaked Blog

Hendrick's Martini

I think most people who have spent any time at all with a bottle have a particular spiritual nemesis (mine is bourbon, which makes me weep like a baby).  But for some reason, gin has this notoriaty of turning Dr. Jekylls everywhere into drunk, venom-spewing Mr. Hydes.  I heard this theory the other night while bartending, that the culprit is a sensitivity to juniper berries, which seems plausible. In its unripened form, the juniper berry is hard and green which lends the tannic bitterness to both the gin and its drinker.

Then there's the seedy side of gin--the roaring twenties with luscious egg-white thickened cocktails. Of course these fancy cocktails came into existence because of the foul taste of nefariously produced 'bathtub gin.' Trust me, no one wants an extra-dry martini with soap scum floating at the top.

But we no longer have to resort to the bathtub as distillery, we can leave it to the professionals.  Hendrick's, for instance, makes a gin so deliciously pure and clear that you are never in danger of choking on a stray pube.  Infused with cucumbers and rose petals, this gin with nothing added has that classic herbaceous quality characteristic of a high end spirit.  It doesn't drag your palate through the herb garden as does Herbsaint or Absinthe, but it is luscious and green. It may be a bit frilly for the Tanq drinkers out there, but it is worth straying for those with an adventurous spirit.

Best of all, Hendrick's requires nothing at all to balance or mask its flavor. Skip the vermouth and serve straight up, extra chilled and garnished with cucumbers (rose petals if you want to be extra fancy).

Summer Cocktails: The Yellow Sapphire ala Morimoto

Morimoto restaurant in Philadelphia has garnered fame thanks to its Iron Chef Morimoto Masaharu who is best known for being the third to win Japan's flaying and splaying competition. The restaurant, in typical Stephen Starr fashion is ultra-high concept with its wavy walls and glowing tables which slowly change colors during your meal.  Eating at Morimoto is like dining inside a submarine cruise-ship that took a detour to Frogstar World B.

Fortunately the fish aren't happily offering themselves up to be eaten by patrons of Morimoto (because that would just be creepy), but they are ALMOST that fresh. We got ourselves the octopus carpaccio and edamame to start and the mid-level chef's sushi platter as the main dish.

The question of what to drink with sushi is usually answered with a heartfelt "SAKI!!!!" But there was something about the gently throbbing lights and the glowing dildo centerpieces that made me want a martini.

Maria had an appropriately neon-green colored midori mimosa with the sexy name "MC2" but I rocked it Prohibition-era style with a "Yellow Sapphire," a cucumber-infused, Smirnoff Citron-Twisted gin martini.

It was pretty tasty and definitely a good drink for a hot summer day.

Recipe

4 oz Bombay Sapphire Gin
1 oz Smirnoff Citron Twist
Cucumber slices and lemon to garnish

If I were sunning on my roofdeck with some great sci-fi and my pooch I would amp it up into the following full drink version:

2 oz Bombay Sapphire
1 oz Stoli Limon
1 oz Cointreau
Balance with Lemon Italian Soda
Pour over ice and garnish with cucumber and lemon

And if I wanted to reminisce about glowing dildos and fantasize that I'm at the end of the universe I'd go with the nuclear meltdown version:

2 oz Bombay Sapphire
1 oz Blue Curaceo
Balance with lemonade
Garnish with amputated frog-legs

Whiskey for Everyone

Jameson 18 Years Old Master Selection, Jameson Distillery, Ireland

The Philadelphia Whiskey festival, held annually in the Crystal tea-room is a funny little fest. Particularly if you don't talk overly-loud, slap your cronies on the back and have never voted for Bush. Not to mention, if you're not a dude.

I went with my bartender-buddies because we got free promotional tix (with its normal $100 price tag, who can say no?) Whiskey festivals can easily lead to debauchery, debasement and your out-of-character karaoke performances, but that's a story for another day. We were treated like rock stars by the vendors because we know how to act in public. And often they would keep the whiskey flowing long past the normal cutoff point. My favorite vendor was the adorable, Irish-brouged Jameson rep who let me keep refilling my snifter with nectary-goodness, particularly once I stumbled across the Jameson 18.

After the first half-ounce hit my tongue, I thought I'd found a corner of heaven just for me. (I'm not sure they allow whiskey in heaven -- well, not Protestant heaven, at least, but who knows what those crazy Catholics get up to up there). One thing is certain, Jameson 18 is really something spectacular. The nose is clean, with a hint of violet and wood. On the palate, it's like a sexy party in the mouth. Oh, and this romp takes place on an oaky, hard-wood floor, surrounded by luscious tropical flowers and everybody's rubbing sweet, musky bath oil on each other.

Well worth the price tag, which at $80 a 750ml is comparable to a high end single malt.

Love that Cactus

Casa Noble Single Barrel Anejo, Tequila, Guadalajara Mexico

Casa Noble Single Barrel Anejo, Tequila, Guadalajara Mexico My love affair with tequila is fairly recent. Like many others, I suffered the delusion that somehow agave turns me into a shrieking mental patient, tearing my clothes off and running into traffic. Fortunately (or unfortunately for people who like watching that sort of thing) this is not the case. It has a mildly stimulating effect that is much more natural and pleasant than downing a bottle of Sparks.

My introduction to the wily ways of the cactus came courtesy of Casa Noble Anejo. The uninitiated tequila drinker whose only experience with the liquor comes in the form of a shot of Cuervo chased with salted lime will be knocked off his barstool by this barrel aged beauty. Having spent a good five years of its life hanging out in White French Oak, it has a nature every bit as complex as a wine or scotch. On the palate, I noticed shards of chocolate and nutty caramel. It's not overly sweet, though, and is balanced skillfully by the sultry wood.

The finish cavorts like a tripped-out coyote, through a bonfire of agave and vanilla-tinged oak.