As we continue with The Negroni Variations … nope, it’s not a classical piece composed by the Italian equivalent of Johann Sebastian Bach featuring the Italian counterpart of Johann Gottlieb Goldberg. (Insert Woody Allen joke: “I-I-I don’t know anything about classical music … for years I thought The Goldberg Variations were something Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg tried on their wedding night.” ba-da-BUMP!)

This next one is the one that’s been killing me lately, and I mean in the best possible way. As with so many of us, I just can’t get enough Smith & Cross rum. This “traditional Jamaican” navy-strength rum (coming in at 100 English proof, i.e. 57% alcohol by volume) is so packed with flavor and funk and “hogo” that a bottle doesn’t last long on our shelf. I like it so much I briefly considered pouring a bottle into my humidifier so that I could breathe it. Eric Seed of Haus Alpenz, whoi imports this stuff, should be canonized for bringing this to us alone, not to mention all the other wonderful things he provides — Batavia arrack,Crème de Violette, allspice dram, Old Tom gin, Cocchi Americano … *boggle*

Oh, what’s “hogo,” you ask? From David Wondrich at the above link:

[B]ack when it was young, rum was possessed of a certain “hogo.” Derived from the French phrase for the “high taste” (haut goût) game meats develop when they’re hung up to mature before cooking — and by “mature,” we mean “rot” — hogo used to be a term of art in the rum trade to describe the sulfurous, funky tang that raw-sugarcane spirits throw off. For 300 years, rum distillers have sought ways first to tame and then to eliminate it: high-proof distillation (more alcohol equals less hogo), filtering, tweaking the fermentation, long aging in barrels — all very effective, particularly when used in combination. Perhaps too effective.

A lot of that hogo has been removed from smooth, easy-to-drink rums of today. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing — give me a glass of Zaya or Appleton Extra any day — but there’s something to be said about that funk, properly tamed. Smith & Cross doesn’t exactly tame it but makes for a delicious rum that won’t funk you to death, although it will funkify your life. (Ah, my stream of consciousness calls for a musical interlude …)

I had forgotten what this drink, first sight of which came from bartender Joaquin Simo at Death & Co. in New York was actually called and started calling it the “Funky Negroni” — fortunately Garret reminded me it’s really called …

THE KINGSTON NEGRONI
(adapted from Joaquin Simo, Death & Co., NYC)

1 ounce Smith & Cross Jamaican rum
1 ounce Campari
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth (Carpano)

Stir & strain, no garnish.

Joaquin takes the vermouth back to cut down on the sweetness, but feel free to kick it back up to 1 ounce if you like. The way I first heard about this was without a garnish, but sometimes I enjoy an orange twist with it.

This drink came into my house, mated with another one and begat a Devil’s Spawn … a most diabolical, wonderful one. Stay tuned!

“Hi Chuck, hope you’re doing well. I am working on the launch of the new Bulleit Rye, and we’d like to send you a sample.”

Well … sure! Okay then! Twist my arm, why dontcha?

I love getting emails like this.

It’s exciting news that Bulleit are putting out a rye. I’m a huge fan of their Bourbon, its own high rye content being one of the reasons (about 28% of the mashbill, in fact). Such a high rye content gives wonderful spice notes and produces a drier product that one that’s mostly corn. (Remember, by law Bourbon whiskey must be at least 51% corn, and rye whiskey must be at least 51% rye.) The new rye won’t contain any corn — the mashbill will be 95% rye with 5% malted barley for natural grain-based enzymatic action for converting the rye grain’s starches to sugars in fermentation. Their rye grains have been obtained from Germany, Sweden, Canada as well as the U.S., and they use a proprietary yeast strain for fermenting the mash. The age is described as being “between 4 and 7 years.” It’s a hefty dram too, with the finished product coming in at 90 proof (45% abv).

I had read that Tom Bulleit and his distillers had been working on this product for about 7 years, talking to whiskey lovers as well as bartenders for ideas and inspiration. That’s plenty of time to give it some age and fine-tune. I could hardly wait to taste it.

Whiskey has quite a history in this family –- the Bourbon made from a 175-year-old recipe by Augustus Bulleit, Tom Bulleit’s great-great-grandfather. The production process for the Bourbon also uses a proprietary yeast culture (I wonder if it’s the same one as the rye) and a Kentucky limestone-filtered water source originating from the Salt River, both of which help impart a unique character.

There’s a lot of fascinating history to their Bourbon. I’m not one to parrot liquor company press releases, but when it involves a good story, mysterious disappearances and the city of New Orleans, I take an interest. Here’s the story, courtesy of Bulleit:

“[In the 1820s the young Augustus] emigrated from Alsace-Lorraine, France. Augustus arrived in the city [of New Orleans, Louisiana] during a time of great growth and prosperity. The United States had recently obtained the territory from Napoleon Bonaparte in the Louisiana Purchase, and New Orleans had successfully defended itself from a British invasion during the War of 1812. The population of the city doubled in the 1830s, and by 1840, New Orleans had become the wealthiest and third- most populous city in the nation.

“The strategic location of New Orleans, at the base of the Mississippi River, made it one of the primary gateways to the West for many early pioneers. To service this ever-growing community of frontiersman, a sizable industry selling needed products for the journey West was forming along the banks of the Mississippi. It’s easy to imagine a young Augustus Bulleit observing the growing American population, the swelling movement west, and noting the ease of transport from the North as a result of the river.

“Around 1840, Augustus Bulleit took his newfound entrepreneurial ambitions and moved from New Orleans to just outside Louisville, KY. Augustus established himself as a tavern keeper, where he began producing small batches of bourbon. Relentless in his pursuit of perfection, he experimented with countless recipes, finally finding one that consistently met his expectations. And thus, Bulleit Bourbon was born.

“Augustus’ bourbon was sold throughout Kentucky, Indiana and New Orleans where it quickly gained the reputation as the bourbon of choice for America’s most haled and hardy adventurers—the frontiersmen.

“In 1860, America was rapidly expanding further west, and Augustus’ adopted hometown of New Orleans had become a major distribution point for his whiskey. That year, while transporting barrels of whiskey from Kentucky to New Orleans, Augustus Bulleit mysteriously disappeared just outside of New Orleans.

“Walter Q. Gresham, a farm boy from Augustus’ neighborhood, who later became Secretary of State under President Grover Cleveland, formed a search party to travel from Indiana to New Orleans in search of Augustus. The searchers came back empty handed, with no knowledge of what happened to Augustus. However, they did discover that his whiskey and flatboat had been sold. His body was never found.

“Shortly after Augustus’ disappearance, the Civil War began and his case was lost in the chaos of the time. While presumed dead, his death has never been certified.

“After Augustus’ disappearance, it seemed the making of his legendary bourbon would disappear with him. However, as decades passed, the Bulleit family never lost its passion for telling the story of Augustus Bulleit, nor the desire to resurrect his signature creation. After more than a century, the family returned at last to bourbon making. In 1987, Tom Bulleit fulfilled a lifelong dream by reviving his family’s ancestral distilling enterprise, using the original recipe of his great-great-grandfather.”

That’s a hell of a story!

About a week after I enthusiastically responded to the email, the Liquor Fairy — dressed in brown with brown shorts as usual — deposited a package at my door containing this:

I must confess I was looking forward to seeing that big pretty bottle with the new green label, but I love getting little medicine bottle samples. Given the limited quantity though, we were going to have to taste and mix carefully.

Into the Riedel Bourbon glasses it went, one ounce each.

First impressions on the nose: fruity! A bit of dark berry but the thing I noticed first was bananas. No, not quite. More like banana esters, like the ethylene gas from when you keep bananas in a paper bag to help ripen them. (This is a good thing.) Tropical, almost floral. Dry spice, a touch of toffee, unburned tobacco (an aroma I love; why must people ruin that aroma by setting it on fire?). Very round and inviting.

On the palate: Lean, robust, medium dry, very crisp. It’s spicy but not overwhelmingly so, and not necessarily the brown “Christmas” spices; it’s almost lightly peppery. Great rye flavor. The brown sugar and nutty toffee notes from the nose come in here too but it’s not the kind of sweetness you get from a high corn Bourbon. The finish is dry and nutty with that little touch of sweetness and a really nice rush of spices. It’s big and complex and spicy and absolutely delicious. Wow.

We couldn’t wait to mix this. We had just enough left to make one Manhattan. I had barely an ounce and a half left — to that I added 3/4 ounce of Carpano Antica vermouth and a dash of Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters. Lemon twist.

Superb. This rye is not only great for sipping but for mixing as well — that was a terrific Manhattan.

I wish I had more of it to do a more studied tasting, but you can bet that as soon as I see this on the shelves I’ll be picking up a couple bottles. Release date was a week ago on March 1, but I have yet to see it pop up at my usual spirits emporia. Keep an eye out. You’re going to want this one.

Well done, Bulleits!

It’s a Los Angeles-centric cocktail post, folks … so if you don’t live in the City of Angels or don’t plan to visit soon, this one might not hold your interest.  You never know, though — you could end up here one day!

Jonathan Gold, Pulitzer Prize-winning food writer from the L.A. Weekly, has been drinking his way across town for quite a while now. (This is a job I would not mind having.) All the while, he’s been thinking about essence:

We have, I think, nearly come to agreement on what an essential restaurant might be in Los Angeles, a place that may have transcendent food or occupy a niche in the social ecosystem, but explains something to us about ourselves. Our ideas on the subject are firm. The nature of an essential cocktail may be more subjective. To one man we know, 55 essential cocktails means 55 glasses of Chivas, because that’s all he’ll ever drink. To us, an essential cocktail says something about L.A. […]

Three years into the cocktailian revolution, there remains little agreement about what an essential bar should be, but a rough consensus about how an essential bar should be run. At the best bars, be it The Varnish or Tiki-Ti, syrups are fresh, juices are prepared daily, and the ice, whether chipped from a giant block or made by a $10,000 machine, is clear and cold. Even a novice can tell a great bar from a mediocre one by the sharpness of the report from the shakers.

But 55 essential cocktails? Why not 99? Why not 82? Why a number associated with that which Sammy Hagar cannot drive? Because I drive. Because I have a human liver. Because however much you may adore the saketini at that little place in Torrance, it is only essential if you happen to be eating a sliver of yellowtail sashimi there at the time.

Bottoms up!

He’s come up with his voluminous list of what he considers to be the 55 very best tipples in Los Angeles, at a variety of places undoubtedly familiar to most of us locals, as well as some I still have yet to try. I think you’ll find it’s a pretty solid list; perhaps it’ll give you some inspiration for a formidable (and, one would hope, weeks-long) bar crawl.

Via my old friend Chris, via the Vintage Ads LiveJournal:

Chris adds, “I’d read significance into this ad and the brand, were it not published three years before the Kinsey Report.” Doug adds, “So what’s that book concealing?” Heh. (Come to think of it, The Kinsey Report might be a great name for a cocktail. I’ll have to come up with something.)

I was curious about not only the advertising but the whiskey behind it, so I did some further digging. It seems that’s not the only Kinsey Whiskey ad I’ve come across that’s had an element of … er, camp to it. This ad is from Christian Montone‘s vintage ad collection on Flickr:

One more:

Um …

The whiskey does indeed date back to 1892, and was produced at a quite lovely distillery on the banks of the Schuykill River near Linfield, Pennsylvania. Taking a break (of course) during Prohibition, the stuff was produced until the mid-1980s, although I don’t ever recall seeing it; it must have been primarily an East Coast brand.

Notice the fine print in the ads, which says that Kinsey Whiskey is “65% grain neutral spirits,” i.e. vodka. That’s even higher than the 55% grain neutral spirit content of the spectacularly uninteresting Seagram’s 7 Crown, which along with its slightly less dull sibling Seagram’s V.O. was quite accurately referred to by my friend Darcy O’Neil as “brown vodka.”  “Light whiskey … for pleasant taste” was one of their ad slogans, and I imagine it was fairly accurate.  This particular “Gold Label” blend was a fairly typical example of blended American whiskies produced after World War II, when supplies were limited and could be stretched by the addition of column still-produced grain neutral spirits. Of course I’ve never tasted Kinsey Gold Label, but I imagine the adjective I’d use to describe it would be the same ones I use to describe 7 Crown and V.O. — “bland.”

However, according to this excellent article they also made a bonded rye whiskey as well:

Now THAT would have been something to try.  Fortunately we have our beloved Rittenhouse bonded rye to cuddle and quaff these days, but sadly we don’t have much in the way of bonded ryes these days to compare it to.

Here are a couple more ads:

Oh sure, he’s showing them a football play, but had this ad been 1965 and not 1945 I’m sure he would have been showing his buddies how fabulously he can sing “Stop In The Name of Love.”

As you may have noticed, Kinsey (as did many if not most liquor producers of the time) put out a cocktail booklet. The whiskey itself might have been nothing to write home about, but they sure knew what to do with it still, even as late as circa 1950 when this booklet came out:

It’s sad to say that these days it would likely take what’s at the moment being called a “craft bartender” to even know what a Daisy, Flip or Sling is, and if you ordered a Whiskey Sour in most bars these days you probably wouldn’t get fresh squeezed lemon, but some artificial “sour mix” crap out of a jug. This is slowly but surely changing, especially in higher-end bars and restaurant, but please … can we at least get things back to 1950, if not 1920 and earlier just yet?

Flickr vintage ad collector alsis35 adds, “You have to wonder: Why did drunks need number puzzles to play with? Maybe they took away the darts after somebody lost an eye.”  Heh.

I think this one is my favorite Kinsey Whiskey ad of all, though. From the January 14, 1946 issue of LIFE Magazine:

That slogan speaks the truth. To accompany their regular meeting of the He-Man Woman Haters’ Club, at least these fellows know how to mix a cocktail. Perfect recipe, perfect glassware. Of course, I’m sure it’d be a much better Manhattan with Kinsey’s 100 proof bonded rye product — one made with such a blend containing so much grain neutral spirits would be limp and limpid at best, with barely a whisper of whiskey flavor — although I don’t know if Kinsey was still making it at this point.

Thanks to Chris Gaal for inspiring this post! Incidentally, Chris’ blog is well worth following, full of interesting tidbits of Los Angeles, Glendale and Pasadena history and photos. The Vintage Ads LJ is also a regular hoot too — the mind boggles at what admen used to think would sell products.

I regret that my music posting has been quite sporadic around these parts of late — sorry ’bout that. Here’s a brief (but content-rich) one, and prepare to spend some money on great music.

Perhaps my favorite album of the year so far has been the new one by The Decemberists, The King is Dead. I’ve been a big Decemberists fan for a while now; I love their big, complex, literate “folk-rock symphony” rock sound, including second most recent The Hazards of Love, which a lot of people seemed not to like — silly people, I think. (The record also includes “The Rake’s Song,” which is one of the most harrowing murder ballads I’ve ever heard.)

“Stripped down” is how they’re describing the new one, with much more of a folk and country tinge and with a strong R.E.M. influence; some songs even feature Peter Buck on guitar, which is probably the best way to lend an R.E.M. sound to your song. The stripped down aspect touched all my folk-country-roots music nerves in the best way, and I found it hugely appealing this time around. Interestingly enough, a good friend who’s a music critic cited that aspect of the record as the primary reason he didn’t like it at all. All I can do is encourage him and anyone else who was put off by this record’s style to listen to it again, because it’s wonderful.

Not only do you hear R.E.M. in this record’s sonic fabric, but one of my favorite songs on the record, “Rise to Me,” sounds to me as if it would be perfectly in place on an Uncle Tupelo (or perhaps Son Volt) record. It’s gorgeous from beginning to end. Can’t you just hear Jay Farrar singing this?

I also love the little instrumental snippet of “The Raggle Taggle Gypsy” that they throw into the song “Rox in the Box,” reinforcing the album’s traditional feel.

The amazing folk-country singer Gillian Welch is also a featured guest on the record — here’s herself performing the song “Down by the Water” with the band on Conan O’Brien a while back:

And here’s the entirety of a recent visit to KCRW, which I missed at the time. Fortunately, they’ve been archiving their live performances for years (and incidentally, I really wish I had some from the pre-web days — there’s been an astonishing amount of great music made at that radio station). Appropriately enough, they start the show with a perfect R.E.M. cover.

You can download an MP3 of “Cuyahoga” here.

If that’s not enough, you can watch and audio-stream a live performance of the album The King is Dead in its entirety, from Oregon Public Broadcasting in Portland.

Now, go out and buy that record!