It’s a magical day! (Some say. They would be silly.)

For many it’s Veteran’s Day (and here’s to those folks). For others it’s just a big round scary birthday. Oh well, they say 1/20th of a millennium is the new 1/25th of a millennium …

“What are you going to do at 11:11:11 on 11/11/11?” a few people asked.

The answer to that question? Have a wee dram of 23-year-old Black Maple Hill rye whiskey. Why? Well … why not?

All that aside, we should celebrate elevens today! You did have your elevenses today, didn’t you? My elevenses consisted of the aforementioned whiskey, good New Orleans coffee ‘n chicory au lait, and a banana. (Remember, life is good if you eat seven meals a day like a hobbit — “I don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip.” “Breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper!”)

This one about killed me — Scottish comedians Iain Connell and Robert Florence of “Burnistoun” are presented with an American-made voice-actuated elevator …

And of course … Happy Nigel Tufnel Day!

Nigel Tufnel: The numbers all go to eleven. Look, right across the board, eleven, eleven, eleven and…
Marty DiBergi: Oh, I see. And most amps go up to ten?
Nigel: Exactly.
Marty: Does that mean it’s louder? Is it any louder?
Nigel: Well, it’s one louder, isn’t it? It’s not ten. You see, most blokes, you know, will be playing at ten. You’re on ten here, all the way up, all the way up, all the way up, you’re on ten on your guitar. Where can you go from there? Where?
Marty: I don’t know.
Nigel: Nowhere. Exactly. What we do is, if we need that extra push over the cliff, you know what we do?
Marty: Put it up to eleven.
Nigel: Eleven. Exactly. One louder.
Marty: Why don’t you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?
Nigel: [pause] These go to eleven.

[P.S. -- Yeah, it's been weeks since I posted. I guess I lost my mojo for a bit, and needed to recharge my batteries. I'll be back soon, I promise.]

I watch a lot of TV. I freely admit that some of it is crap. I also see a lot of horror films, and I likewise freely admit that some of them are crap. While a stylish, classy horror film is a thing of beauty and a joy forever, the simple truth is that I also really enjoy a good schlockfest. There’s nothing like “Deadly Friend”, “Chopping Mall” or “Cellar Dweller” to while away an evening. Oh, and let us not forget “I, Madman” (which, poor thing, doesn’t even warrant its own Wikipedia entry). I will defend the good stuff, but I’m not ashamed to own the crap.

Horror on TV, though, has been (no pun intended, but take one if you like) a bit of a crapshoot, especially of late. I’m thinking of anthology series like Showtime’s “Masters of Horror”, which started off well but deteriorated quickly after the first season. Or NBC’s “Fear Itself”, interesting but thuddingly mediocre overall, with one stunning exception: a twisted zombie story called “New Year’s Day”. Has it really been so long since “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” and “Night Gallery”? I guess it has.

So, although I was dubious at first—highly so, in fact—now I find myself wondering if I’m the only person on the planet who thinks that MTV’s reboot series “Teen Wolf” isn’t that bad? That maybe, just maybe, it’s actually pretty good? That it is, in fact, kind of…weirdly…brilliant? The other night—I think it was after watching episode four—I turned to Chuck and said as much, and he didn’t actually disagree. Thus justified, or at least emboldened, I’ve been thinking about the reasons why. I waited until after episode five to formulate my conclusions, just to make sure I wasn’t making any snap judgments. Things can always change, of course, but so far what I’ve seen has been pretty consistent, so I feel safe or at least comfortable in my analysis, such as it is.

Taking horror seriously is a good idea.

Funny horror, if not perfectly executed, rings false and grows tiring. I’m not arguing that this is a rule with few exceptions so much that the balance here is difficult, even almost impossible to strike. The sheer, unadulterated genius of “Beetlejuice” springs instantly to mind; I watched it again recently with my friend LeeAnn (who had never seen it! O, the shame!), and it still works—gloriously. (“I myself am…strange and unusual.”) But it is, make no mistake, a rarity. For every “Beetlejuice,” there’s a…well…a “Teen Wolf”.  Or fifty.  In a fairly radical break from its in-name-only forebear, MTV’s “Teen Wolf” (hereinafter referred to as MTVTW), takes the horror seriously—hell, there’s a horribly mutilated victim in the very first episode—and in my opinion is the better for it.

Thankfully, it isn’t too serious, Sturm und Drang serious, so serious as to lose all life and perspective. (I’m thinking of Spike’s “Blade” series, notable for being the only time any Spike programming has landed on our DVR (please don’t judge me). I liked the movies to varying degrees—“Blade” is great, “Blade II” is absolutely freaking brilliant, and “Blade: Trinity” …um…has a great title and co-stars Ryan Reynolds.  I liked a lot about the series, too, but overall it was far too serious for its own good, and in the end nobody cared.  No, MTVTW knows how to bring the humor. On the one hand, I shudder to think about the story meeting where somebody proposed the idea of a “comic sidekick”; on the other hand, I hope that writer is still on the show. Because the result is Dylan O’Brien’s appealingly portrayed best-buddy-to-the-hero, Stiles. We learned in episode five that Stiles isn’t actually his name—he just prefers Stiles to his apparently embarrassing yet still undisclosed first name. The non-reveal reveal of that moment made me laugh out loud. This is the kind of quiet comedy that orbits Stiles, zipping and crashing around like an asteroid belt. You never know when funny sparks are going to fly.

Tweak the mythology.

Everybody knows the basic story: boy meets dog, dog bites boy, boy turns into dog. This story has been told for centuries, from story-legends passed on verbally around crackling campires to CGI extravaganzas intended to hook the new generation (and spawn a movie franchise…or, you know, not). This story, like any other, has changed over the years of its telling; after all, storytellers embellish. Why not, if it makes things more interesting? Now, when I talk about “tweaking the mythology” I’m not talking about angsty, dewy-eyed, sparkly boy-toy vampires. (Nope, no link.  You know what I’m talking about.)  I am at least hoping for something far more interesting. I’m talking about the kind of enhancements that (speaking of vampires) make the ongoing storylines of CW’s “The Vampire Diaries” so much more intriguing and enjoyable than you’d think they have any right to be. (Rings that let vampires walk in daylight? Where did they get them? Who all has them? I must know more! TVD, from whose playbook MTVTW seems to have borrowed a judicious idea or two, is another show that gets a lot of things right.) Here, the main tweak is still being fleshed out, but it has something to do with different types of werewolves: run-of-the-mill pack wolves vs. some kind of super “alpha” wolf.

It seems clear that there’s more than one method to the madness. One smart outcome here is that our recently bitten title character (Scott McCall, played by Tyler Posey), who now turns into a fairly standard-issue werewolf, is actually a hero we can root for, not a tragic figure or anti-hero. Win the big game! Kiss the girl! Don’t get found out! It’s a familiar model, but in an unexpected setting. Beacon Hills is Smallville, Tyler’s Scott McCall is Clark Kent, the wolf is the hero…really, it’s not too big a stretch. And it’s a good idea. It also allows for fairly minor rather than elaborate makeup (or expensive CGI) on the title character (along with occasional glowing yellow eyes, just for emphasis), which keeps him recognizable and accessible. But make no mistake—there’s still another Bad Wolf, and at least one whose allegiances are in flux. It’s a lot to keep track of, but it’s also interesting.

People like to look at pretty people.

It’s true. We do. That’s why movie stars and models are all beautiful. (Well, those strange American Apparel ad campaigns aside. They’re like the anti-Abercrombie & Fitch.) This is not exactly new news—any number of CW shows get this much right, if nothing more, but that alone doesn’t make them watchable.  Believe it or not, the trick is to make sure the pretty people are window dressing, not the main attraction. For your consideration, MTVTW offers (in no particular order):

• Model-turned-actor Colton Haynes, not the best actor in the world but still model-pretty and fairly passable as an extraordinarily frustrated jock confused by a high school dynamic that’s even stranger than the norm.
• Smokin’ hot Tyler Hoechlin, all grown (and buffed) up since traveling the Road to Perdition with Tom Hanks, and rocking a triskelion-ish tattoo across his shoulder blades, no doubt just for the exotic mystery.
• Crystal Reed and Holland Roden, lovely ladies indeed, all dewy eyes, shining hair and warm voices. There’s also Jill Wagner as tough-as-nails Kate Argent (get it?), a wolf hunter who will no doubt bring tension, angst and conflict to Our Hero and his Trusty Sidekick.
• Speaking of which—Dylan O’Brien, geeky but not too much so and terrifically appealing. The perfect sidekick; he’s funny, devoted and—perhaps most importantly—completely non-threatening. There’s no subtext in this relationship, none at all.
• Pocket-sized yet impressively fit Tyler Posey, who’s more cuddly wolf-pup than slavering beast. It’s surely no coincidence that he has shaggy hair and big, brown puppy-dog eyes that are noticed (and commented on) not just by the viewing audience but by other characters…the better to go with his occasional wolfy sideburns, my dear!

Truly, there’s nothing that works like knowing your target audience.

Make your young actors not too old.

There’s a fairly common problem with TV shows set in high school: the actors are usually too old to pass as teenagers, if not at first then certainly over time. Yes, “BH 90210” and “Glee” , I’m looking at you. What adults do watch these shows may not notice or care, but actual teenagers will know the difference. Of course, like any others the actors on MTVTW will age, noticeably so if the series runs for more than a couple of years, but for now at least they aren’t too old—Tyler Posey is actually still a teenager (he’s 19, at least for a few more months), and Dylan O’Brien is only a couple of months older. It’s nothing like poor 28-year-old (and, eventually, 38) Gabrielle Carteris trying to pass for 17 or so. Oh dear. And, much as I like his character, Mark Salling isn’t really believable as a high-schooler any more, either. Send ‘em off to college!

Keep things happening. Keep things interesting.

Like TVD (and, I would argue, the usually nonsensical but always guilty-pleasurably watchable “V” remake), MTVWD knows its audience. On a show like this, stuff needs to happen. It doesn’t have to make sense, but it has to be interesting. When I say “happen,” I don’t mean every episode—I mean every commercial interval. When I say “interesting,” I mean it has to grab your attention—and keep it until the next thing happens. And when I say “it doesn’t have to make sense,” I pretty much mean that 100%. Who cares if it’s silly? Please—it’s a show about a teenage werewolf! I’m going to give credit to director Russell Mulcahy (“Highlander” —I know, right?) and writers Tim Andrew and Toby Wilkins for getting things off to a tight, intriguing start.

Lacrosse.

Every burgeoning young superhero needs a setting in which to express his super side, ideally without giving away the farm (so to speak). Clark Kent had football, and Scott McCall has lacrosse. Lacrosse? Who plays lacrosse? People on the East Coat, that’s who—and, perhaps not so coincidentally, although it’s set in a fictional small Northern California mountain town, MTVTW is filmed in and around Atlanta, home of any number of youth lacrosse teams. Aha, suddenly it all makes more sense! Sure, maybe it’s because the local actors and extras already know how to play lacrosse. Sure, maybe it’s because the high school location has a lacrosse field but no football equipment. Who cares? Lacrosse fills the clichéd dramatic need for ritualized conflict without being itself a cliché. Our Hero needs to play a sport—it’s what boys in high school do—but his sport of choice happens to be one you’ve probably never played. This is clever, as it allows the necessary imagery to be familiar, yet still fresh. Unsurprisingly, it also allows for scenes played out in the locker room, which as everyone knows is simply de rigeur in horror, not to mention Youth TV.

Credit where credit is due.

No populist exercise in dramatic storytelling that follows a traditional narrative structure (so, not “The Tree of Life” ) can succeed without characters the audience can get its collective grip on, fairly quickly at that, and a hero (or antihero) who is likeable (or not) but most of all relatable. If you and I as viewers can’t connect to the protagonist on some level, we’re unlikely to care how things play out for him or her. I think this is the single biggest thing that was gotten wrong (repeatedly, it must be said) by both “FlashForward” and “The Event” (which at our house was mostly called “The Non-Event”). Did you care what happened to Joseph Fiennes (egregiously miscast) in “FlashForward”? Did you care what happened to Laura Innes (egregiously wasted) or Blair Underwood (egregiously overly made-up, at least in HD) in “The Event”? Neither did I. But, very interestingly, I do care what happens to Scott McCall, and that’s almost entirely due to Tyler Posey. He is, at times awkwardly but always earnestly, acting and emoting his ass off. Each. And. Every. Week. Who knew that the kid from “Maid in Manhattan” had it in him? I don’t know if he’s the Real Deal or not, at least not yet, and he may not be MTVTW’s greatest asset, but I do think he’s its secret weapon.

In its own arguably un-ambitious, self-deprecating way, MTVTW is fairly balls-out brilliant. Honestly, I haven’t enjoyed a new horror series on TV this much since TVD. It’s no “Supernatural”, but then what is?

Hey, maybe next time I’ll tell you why you ought to be watching “Falling Skies”!

Yes, three posts in 24 hours. Try not to have a hawt attack ‘r somethin’.

Hallowe’en weekend is upon us! I love Hallowe’en! What’re we doing for Hallowe’en?

Nothing.

Wes is gone all weekend for work, I’m exceedingly lazy and don’t feel like coming up with a costume and have grown weary of all the hassle of going out to Santa Monica Boulevard. I’ll probably get stuff done around the house, and in the later evening we’ll have some seasonally appropriate cocktails, such as the Corpse Reviver No. 2, Satan’s Whiskers and the Zombie. (Hm. It occurs to me that I’ve never written up those last two. *make note for later*)

To make matters worse, for years we haven’t bothered decorating the house for Hallowe’en because for the first three years in a row at our house there were no trick-or-treaters. Either the few kids in our neighborhood don’t go out, or they’ve already finished by the time we get home. Now we don’t even bother with decorations or even buying any candy. (Last thing we need is big bowls of candy around the house with no one to eat them from us.) It’s a bummer — it’s fun to have trick-or-treaters come over. In Silver Lake near our friend Steve’s house there’s a block that gets hundreds, if not over a thousand kids trick or treating! What do we get?

Standing on our water meter, not a single trick-or-treater
Knocking now to put an end to my loud, horrendous snore
Nary even just one nipper dressing up as Jack the Ripper
Underneath the great Big Dipper, seeking candy at my door
“Zero visitors,” I muttered; the no-ones at my green front door
Will find candy … nevermore!

Oh wait, that reminds me … in a special treat from the shiny, shiny folks at Quantum Mechanix, we present you with a dramatic reading of Edgar Allan Poe’s classic poem “The Raven” — produced, directed and performed by John De Lancie:

We’ll also undoubtedly watch some scary movies this weekend (we have many), plus Sunday is the premiere of the new AMC series adaptation of the graphic novel The Walking Dead, which I’ve been looking forward to for months! I’ve been reading Robert Kirkman’s ongoing series for six years now, and the show has a lot going for it — director Frank Darabont, plus the great track record for dramatic series on AMC (“Breaking Bad” and “Mad Men”). Tune in on Sunday at 10pm (Eastern & Pacific), 9pm Central, and check out the above link for a ton of behind-the-scenes documentaries.

So, I’ve been taking the train to work the last few months.  It’s a bit of a hassle, but not overly so, especially for Los Angeles.  It gives me some extra time to read, it’s not nearly as much trouble as it could be (did I mention that I live in Los Angeles?), and it can actually be quite interesting on occasion.  So I’m consciously counting it as a small blessing in my life right now.

As you are no doubt aware, it’s kind of impossible to go anywhere or do anything in our modern world without being the target of advertising.  Been to a movie lately?  How many commercials did you have to sit through?  While you were sitting in a seat you had paid to sit in, I might add.  Grr, don’t get me started.

It will come as no surprise to you that there are advertisements on the Gold Line.  I am shocked! I hear you say.  Shocked, I tell you!  Shocked and appalled. Well, get used to it.  Most of the time they’re fairly forgettable ad posters, easy to dismiss or ignore.  But recently there’s been a series that has caught my eye and actually made me smile…and think, I guess, just a little.

Continue reading …

London (and Hampton Court), Kempton, (Upper) Hengoed, Ludlow, Shrewsbury, Bishops Castle, Paris, Barcelona.  Not a bad batch of towns for two weeks.

Then 23-1/2 hours of door-to-door travel (including fifteen hours on planes, ugh), lost luggage, found and late-delivered luggage and the joys of jet lag — I was completely loopy yesterday, and this morning I sat bolt upright and wide awake at 4:30am.  Ah, it was all worth it.  It was a supremely fantastic trip, full of great food, great drink, great friends and great sights.  There should be a number of travelogue posts, featuring food and drink, coming over the next few weeks.

Best news of all coming home … all the booze arrived intact!  Hooray!  Here’s the haul:

Plymouth Navy Strength Gin, relaunched in 2007, is a higher proof version of the original Plymouth with a richer and more intense flavor.  It’s also unavailable in the U.S., hence my burning desire to possess and drink it.  Weighing in at a hefty 100 proof — and that’s English proof, which is actually 57% alcohol — it should be quite the tipple and should make one hell of a Martini.  This high-proof version was approved by the British Royal Navy for distribution aboard ship as it “would not prevent gunpowder from igniting, should it be compromised by spilled spirit,” according to its producers, who supplied the Royal Navy with this gin from the early days of the 19th Century.  Plymouth Navy Strength supposedly made its first inroads into cocktail history during those days as well.  As the story goes, Royal Navy surgeon Sir Thomas Gimlette tried to think of a more palatable way for his sailors to take lime juice as a scurvy preventative, squeezed some into Plymouth Navy Strengh, and thus was born the Gimlet.  (Good story, whether or not it’s even close to being true … never let that stop a good story, though.)  I’ve got 2 bottles of this stuff.

Rhubarb Liqueur from Chase Distillery in Herefordshire.  It all began with crisps, too.  Potato chips, that is.  A gentleman named William Chase (to whom the Birmingham [U.K.] Post referred as “the Willy Wonka of British potato vodka”) bought a potato farm and bet everything he had that the British public wanted a better potato crisp.  He won.  His brand, Tyrrells Potato Chips, launched in 2001 and swept the country because they were so damned good.  I, of course, being The Potato Chip Monster, fell hopelessly in love with Tyrrells Chips and will soon commence a heated campaign to find them in the States.  (More on this in a later post.)  Chase sold 70% of his interest in Tyrrells for a cool £40 million, so I’m hoping that whatever larger company got them will make them more widely available.  From those proceeds Chase opened a distillery and wanted to make the first British potato vodka, which has been very successful and is apparently good stuff, if you’re a vodka drinker. (“Almondy and buttery” are the tasting notes I’ve read. Incidentally, Chase now makes a clear spirit he calls a vodka but which is distilled from local cider as well — now that I’d be really interested in.)  From vodka Chase moved on to liqueurs based on his vodka, and there’s quite a range of them — blackberry, blackcurrant, elderflower, white peach and rhubarb, the latter of which I brought home.  I’d have gotten them all if there had been room.  Sigh.  (Actually, The Whiskey Exchange in London, where I bought my gin, carries them all and mail-orders to the States, which is actually almost worth it if you order enough bottles. They’ll be getting more of my business – great selection and really nice folks.)

Seville Orange Gin from Tipsage Farms in Worcestershire, which is actually a gin-based liqueur into which peels and a touch of juice from the bitter oranges has been macerated, with a touch of sugar added.  It’s delicious, bracingly bitter in the finish, and great on its own, chilled or on the rocks.  I’m going to see how it mixes too — the problem, of course, being that I only have 500ml to play with and I don’t want to waste it on trying to make cocktails I won’t be able to reproduce easily.  I think it’d be lovely tall with some soda and a bit more gin to oomph it up, for starters.  I’d also swap it out for the Rose’s Lime Cordial for something like a Bitter Orange Gimlet.  Tipsage also make several other flavors, including lime, Damson, blackberry and sloe, but this one piqued my interest the most, especially after our friends John and Fiona gave us a taste at their house … mmm!

Elixir Végetal de la Grande Chartreuse, a concentrated, more potent (at 71% alcohol) version of Chartreuse liqueur, as yet unavailable in the U.S.  Its flavor has been described as a more intense version of Chartreuse V.E.P. (the barrel-aged version).  I’ve been after this stuff for a while, and it seems as if every bartender I know who’s travelled to Europe ends up bringing some of this stuff back.  In France it’s generally taken as a tonic or digestif, and dispensed by the drop — a couple of drops on a sugar cube, or in a little sugared water, is the usual dose.  It comes in 100ml bottles with a dasher top, stored in a lathed wooden case to protect it from light.  I suspect I’ll be dashing this into cocktails left and right! You’ll get a concentrated bit of Chartreuse essence and flavor with less sweetness than you would from the liqueur. (The sugar cube after dinner sounds very nice, too … it seems as if it’d certainly cure what ails ya.)

Metté Eaux-de-Vie, copper pot-distilled clear brandies that come in an astonishing 87 varieties.  Some of the ones I saw at Lavinia in Paris included fruits of every description — quince, Poire Williams, raspberry, rarer fruits like fraises de bois, the small wild strawberries, plus spices like anise, vanilla, even cumin. They also make a black Périgord truffle variety! There were many at Lavinia but some that they didn’t carry, including cumin, woodruff, asparagus and garlic. (Hmm, I don’t know about those.)   Sadly, I was only able to bring home two — Cacao and Pêche (peach), both described by the lady at Lavinia as “fantastic.” They do have an American distributor, and I know I’m going to want more.

Suze, the bitter French apéritif based on gentian root, and pretty much impossible to find in the States these days.  (I’ve only got dregs left of a bottle I found at Wally’s years ago.)  It’s a flavor that takes some getting used to, but if you’re a fan of Campari or other bitters, you’re already well on your way.  Its sunny yellow color belies a musky, somewhat floral, almost horseradish-like flavor (on the bitter rather than hot/pungent side).  It’s really terrific stuff, and all the more frustrating in that it’s so hard to get now.  There’s always mail-order from Europe, where the shipping costs more than the bottle, but if you order at least four bottles from places who ship then the costs even out a bit.  Suze is definitely worth getting.  Sadly, our bottle had to stay behind at Dule’s place, as it wouldn’t fit into the shipping container we’d brought!  (Danged tall 1-liter bottles.)  We’ll make arrangements later.  Once it gets here, I think I’ll try this cocktail, served at The Pegu Club in New York when they have Suze on hand:

WHITE NEGRONI

1-1/2 ounces Plymouth gin.
1 ounce Lillet blanc.
3/4 ounce Suze.
1 dash orange bitters (optional).

Combine ingredients with ice in a mixing glass, and stir for 20 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass. No garnish.

I’d say it’s worth mail-ordering, but without a doubt you should go in with friends on several various bottles of stuff to make the shipping charges less painful.

Nikka Whisky from the Barrel, a Japanese blended whiskey to which we were introduced by Arthur, one of our two favorite bartenders of the trip, at Curio Parlor in Paris (more on him, the bar, and the other bars and bartenders later).  This is absolutely wonderful stuff, full-flavored, citrusy, woody and with lots of character.  I have very little experience with Japanese whiskies, but this one was more like a big brassy Bourbon to me than the few others I’ve tasted.  Arthur made me an Old Fashioned and Wesly a Manhattan, the two tests of mettle of a bartender for us, and both drinks were pure perfection.  Indeed, they were entirely new experiences for us, as they used this wonderful whiskey. Unfortunately I think this one’s going to be hard to find as well, meaning more expensive mail-ordering. Next time I’m at Seven Grand, we’re going to be talking about this one. 

Patxaran Ordoki, from Navarre, Spain.  While we were in Barcelona Wes and I fell in love with patxaran (which is the Catalan and Basque spelling; it’s pacharán in Spanish). It’s a liqueur based on the sloe berry, just like sloe gin, and is frequently made at home as many folks in the U.K. made sloe gin when the blackthorn bushes are heavy with sloes.  However, patxaran is soaked in an anisette base rather than a gin base, and is often flavored with a few coffee beans and a vanilla pod in its homemade version as well as some of the commercial ones.  The first one we tried was a brand called Baines (pronounced bah-ee-ness), which was really good but proved difficult to find in spirits shops.  The other we had was Etxeco, which was good, but not as good as Baines.  We didn’t manage to make it to the Barcelona branch of Lavinia (we took a half-hour Metro ride there one evening, forgetting that most businesses in Barcelona are closed on Sundays … d’oh), but we did make it to a shop closer to our hotel, La Cava de los Faros, better known to pre-legalization absintheurs as The Fine Spirits Corner.  It’s a fairly small shop actually, stuffed with liquor, and the nattily dressed older gentleman in charge assured us that of the brands he carried, Ordoki was the best.  Tonight we’ll see how it stands up to Baines and Etxeco.  If you’re intrigued by this very tasty liqueur too, you can mail-order it without too much trouble.  Spirits Corner has it, but the shipping charges may stop your heart.  Another company called Products From Spain.net have a whole patxaran/pacharán page, but they’re based in Madrid and their shipping will more than double the cost of your $49 bottle.  However, Beltramo’s Wine and Spirits in the San Francisco Bay Area carry Ordoki for $21.99 a bottle, with much more reasonable domestic shipping charges.  We also picked up a couple of miniatures of the oldest and most widely distributed brand of pacharán, called Zoco, now owned by Pernod-Ricard.

So … all in all, not a bad haul!