Bibulo.us - We plead the 21st.

Delicious drinks and a deeper understanding of ingredients are among the happy benefits of becoming a cocktail nerd. One sorry side effect, though, is a profusion of bottles, some of which one has no intention of ever sampling again. While we are strong advocates of having a wide collection of ingredients, enabling experimentation and the pleasure of introducing guests to new flavors, there's a limit to how many and, more importantly, how long bottles should reside in anyone's house.

Now we aren't talking about the fine furniture of a bar, those lovely bottles of good whiskey or rum which you can enjoy an ounce or two at a time for years; we've got our eye on the perishables: the flowers, not the dining table. There are also some other categories deserving of a bit of Discardia, so let's get specific about all of them and their recommended fate.

1. Nasties
Let's face it. Not everything tastes good. This is the first category to move out of your life. Sometimes you hear about a weird new spirit or liqueur (more often the latter) with which you want to experiment, but you discover when you try it that you never want it to pass your lips again.
If you won't drink it or serve it soon and frequently to guests, send it on to someone else. If it goes beyond 'not to my taste' into the realm of 'purely dreadful', pour it down the drain and spare the world from its horribleness.

2. Frail flowers
Anything under 25% ABV is only going to last so long. You should be keeping it in the fridge. If it hasn't already gone off, start using it up at a faster pace and clear that space for a fresh bottle. Good vermouth is delicious on the rocks and often responds nicely to an orange twist. Liqueurs can be used to make Italian sodas. Try an ounce in a pint glass, topped with soda water and stirred. While you're at it, mark today's date in permanent marker on the label of each of those bottles and make a note in your calendar three months hence to purge anything still lurking weakly around.

3. Bits and bobs
There are ingredients which are fine, but not your favorites. The ones which you're always reaching past to get that beloved bottle. Consider using some of these up in making a punch for your next gathering of friends. Even a delicate one like Limmer's Gin Punch can often tolerate some careful mixing of compatible different brands. Get David Wondrich's wonderful book on punch and start being a fabulous (albeit deviously backbar clearing) host.

4. Too Good to Drink
Yes, it's good to extend your enjoyment of truly excellent spirits, but when you're down to the final few servings of something it's time to enjoy more not less. Life is uncertain and the survival of things contained in glass even less so; go ahead and have the good stuff. Figure out some unfulfilling expense you can cut (Do you really watch Netflix or cable enough to be worth that money?) and divert those funds toward replacing it with another spectacular bottle.

For more on this theme, check out these ideas from Jacques Bezuidenhout: Taming Your Liquor Cabinet and Throw a Clean-Up Party.

Once upon a time in a magical land, those famous princesses known from many a backpack and lunchbox were gathered together, relaxing with champagne and back issues of Imbibe Magazine while enchanted bluebirds and mice did their pedicures. A typical Friday lunchtime.

Cindy sighed and set down an article on the early history of cocktail shakers. "I want to go somewhere fun; somewhere we've never been. I want to see something out of a dream."

"That sounds great," said Beaut. "Imagine a magical place, audacious but still classy—and sparkling like diamonds everywhere you look."

Barely looking up from a Paul Clarke piece she'd not seen before, S.W. said, "As long as I can get a proper Daiquiri, count me in."


A moment later, in Las Vegas, a raccoon in white periwig and a blue and silver vest hopped up spiraling glass steps. At the top, it waddled over to rest a clawed hand gently on the high-heeled foot of the shortest of three older women at the glowing, curved bar. She leaned down to hear its whispered message, then turned to her companions. "Incoming. But there's time for one more round first." Instantly, with no help necessary from the wands resting beside the almost empty glasses of the prior round, their blue-mohawked bartender stepped over to them with a grin. Eyes twinkling back at him, the ladies intoned their incantation.

"Sazerac."

"Fernet, ginger back."

"And give me a good sipping rum."


***

Yes. That's our review. It's a three-story, five-bar, giant chandelier with a very solid selection and a bartender wearing a U.S. Bartenders' Guild pin.

What more do you need to know?

It’s New Year’s Eve in Vienna. You’ve walked among the crowds, spied whirling waltzers in tails through fourth-story windows, and watched midnight fireworks erupt all over town from a balcony overlooking the opera house. What’s next?

First Floor, we bid you, is next.

As you come in through an unobtrusive entrance on Seitenstettengasse and head up the stairs, you can hear clinking glasses, the murmur of conversation, and a familiar drum rhythm. You step inside and sit down at the bar.

The drinks are good -- more than competent.  But the real cocktail is the mix of the drinks, the music, and the crowd.  It’s bright young things stopping in after New Year’s parties, black ties untied, jackets slipped off.  They have their arms around sheath-gowned grinning girls.  And they’re dancing to deep cuts of 60s soul -- Shorty Long, Screamin Jay Hawkins, Little Willie John.

You stay.

We just know you’re in Berlin, hanging around Nollendorfplatz, looking for an extremely cozy place to take a few friends for perfectly crafted drinks.

We’ve got the place for you.

Lebensstern.

Up on the second floor of an old mansion that belonged to silent film star Henny Porten, Lebensstern (“Star of Life”) is all soft lights, glass cabinets filled with exotic bottles, leather chairs, and warm hospitality.  

And what else to do in such a setting but have a cocktail named for a hotel in Louisville, Kentucky? Their Seelbach (Noah’s Mill, Cointreau, Angostura, Peychaud’s, champagne float) was ideal on our visit, with the sweetness of the bourbon and cointreau sliding smoothly into the soft bite of the champagne.  And on the subject of drinks named for American establishments, it was a bit of a shock to have come over continent and ocean to find a Tommy’s Margarita on the menu.  (Truth be told, it was better than the Margaritas at Tommy’s.)  Also notable was the presence of gins we’d never heard of -- Lebensstern’s house brand, as well as Xoriguer (from Menorca), Blue Ribbon (a London Dry from Bordeaux), and Blackwood (from the Shetlands).

Camper English has the whole Lebensstern menu. (We mean on his blog, but wouldn’t that make a great reality show?)

So walk on over, settle in, and enjoy the best cocktails in Berlin.

A short note about a quick trip.

We recently spent a weekend in Raleigh, North Carolina. It turned out to be one of the more pleasurable 48 hours’ worth of civilized drinking we’ve enjoyed in a while. This was mostly, of course, because of our hosts, Steve and Heather (see St. George gins). But our visit to one cocktail bar in particular really impressed us.

Fox Liquor Bar had been open for less than a week when we visited on a Saturday night. Fox is subterranean, but not overtly speakeasyish; candlelit, but not uncomfortably romantic; drinks-focused, but not self-important.

Particularly enjoyable was watching a whole new crowd open up to really good drinks.  Steve and Heather have been cocktail-nerding in Raleigh for a decade, but the rest of the city mostly hasn’t. The bar was lively not just with (fairly loud) convivial conversation, but with the joy of discovery.

The cocktail program is run (largely by remote control) by Karin Stanley of Dutch Kills and Little Branch.  The list is East Coast classic -- Greenpoint, Turf, Pan American Clipper -- plus some highlights we hadn’t seen before (probably because we don’t get to Dutch Kills nearly enough).  One standout was the Late Night Reviver (Beefeater, Fernet, ginger, lime, soda water), which was effective in taming the Fernet.

Next time you’re in Raleigh, don’t miss Fox.

(Incidentally, we also had really outstanding fried chicken at Beasley’s and burgers at Chuck’s -- both, like Fox, owned by Ashley Christensen -- and unreasonably good Mexican/Colombian food at Dos Taquitos. All recommended. None so highly as Bols Barrel Aged Genever juleps on Steve and Heather’s porch, but that’s a rather more exclusive offering.)

When we heard St. George Spirits would be coming out with three new gins, we immediately called our trusty supplier of delicious boozes, Cask on 3rd St in San Francisco, and got on the waiting list. Conveniently, in addition to the usual 750ml size, these also came out in a 200ml tasting size, ideal for our upcoming trip to visit beloved fellow cocktail nerds Steve and Heather on the other side of the country.

While Raleigh graced us with a delightful bit of actual weather (as opposed to the general pleasantness we endure in San Francisco to the scorn of those with “real” seasons), we broke out tasting glasses and attentively evaluated these newcomers to the gin scene. Thunder rumbling above, we nosed our glasses of the gin by itself, debated flavor profiles, and brainstormed ideal cocktails to test each of the three varieties.

We began, perhaps unadvisedly, with the Dry Rye. St. George describes it thusly:

Dry Rye Gin has twice as much juniper in its recipe as either of the other two St. George gins, and a base of pot-distilled rye that provides structure and spice. Warm bass notes of pepper and caraway give Dry Rye Gin an intriguing depth of flavor, while the rye provides a sweet maltiness reminiscent of a genever. Try our Dry Rye Gin in your favorite cocktails that call for either gin or rye—or sip it straight for a gin experience like no other.

We found to our surprise that this has a sweeter nose than the other two, despite the less sweet grain base. The caraway notes were strong—leading us to taste some aquavit later for comparison—and it was drier on the tongue. Perhaps it’s the reduced sweetness, but you really feel the alcohol in this one. This gin definitely provides a great education in the tempering power of corn in the grain bill of a spirit.

We tried two drinks with the Dry Rye, but to our disappointment neither the Pegu Club nor the Mondays With Aalto (a great drink by Adam Bryan of Austin’s East Side Show Room) worked. In the former, it didn’t hold up to the lime and in the latter the botanicals just didn’t meld well with the other drink ingredients. Our next idea was to try it in a Ramos Gin Fizz, but dinner called and we have yet to make the experiment.

The second gin in the lineup was the Botanivore.

Botanivore Gin (our "botanical eater") earned its name because it's loaded with botanical ingredients. We distilled 19 different botanicals to compose this spirit (no small feat!) and the resulting gin is beautifully balanced and vibrant. Lance compares this gin to an orchestra where all the components are working in harmony. Deliciously herbacious and bright, Botanivore is a versatile addition to any gin cocktail.

This one seemed to call out immediately for a Martini to keep the focus on the flavors within the gin. It’s a very nice gin, a little sharp, and perhaps one note, but we like the note. It seemed to water out a bit in the drink and we thought it might work better in a dirty martini. We also tried it in a Pink Gin, which was okay, not extraordinary. Once again we did not feel we’d found a drink that really showed this one off to its best effect.

The third taste was of the Terroir and it was here that things got really exciting. Dinah, a Bay Area native and quite familiar with the environment which inspired this gin, was very impressed. St. George has absolutely hit the bullseye with this local flavor, saying “It tastes like the New Year’s Day walk in the Franklin Hills when I was a kid.”

Terroir Gin is our ode to the wild beauty of the Golden State. Distiller Lance Winters has a passion for exploring place and memory through distillation, and the aromas of the coastal forests on California's Mount Tam were what inspired him to start making gin in the first place. Terroir Gin has an intense earthy, woodsy nose and flavor derived from Douglas fir, California bay laurel, and California coastal sage—complemented by bright, citrusy top notes. This is a unique and proudly Californian gin with a sense of place and poetry.

The other three agreed that it’s “verrrry nice” and “damned nice.” We tried this in an Aviation and it worked very well indeed. Recommended!

Their only sign is an illuminated painting of that which the bar is named for: Samuel Beckett’s head.

Our kind of place.


Small, friendly; the menus are embedded in thick hardback German biographies of Beckett, and divided into categories:

• Clear & Classic
• Fine & Fresh
• Fresh & Funky
• Herb & Floral
• Creamy & Candy
• Light & Low
• Drink & Drive

We would say more, but the night was a bit of a blur. We remember a string of very good drinks and the company of a pleasantly garrulous Irishman and some fellow San Franciscans; tramping through the snow to find the U-Bahn closed; then wisely locating and consuming Doner Kebap.

We recognize that all of this is singularly unhelpful in evaluating Becketts Kopf. But it’s what we’ve got to work with.

[We are delighted to welcome Lance for a guest post, the advice in which we heartily endorse.]

Here's the best way I know of to expand your repertoire of drink. Sure, there will be some regrets in there, but you'll also end up exploring new vistas and make new friends along the way.

1. Find a 'favorite' bar. This can be one you just wander into, or one attached to a restaurant. What's important is that it's not too busy, but it's not empty, either. You'll know it when you see it. It should have a wide, vast, unruly, impossible collection of liquor easily visible. Hundreds of beers on tap? Only if you want to learn more about beer. Avoid "themes" unless, again, you want to explore that theme (e.g. tequila bars, tiki bars, sake bars and the like).

2. Sit at the bar. At the bar. Not near it. Not standing. Sit on a stool at the bar.

3. When asked "what'll you have?" answer, "I'm in the mood to explore, if that's okay." If the bartender is a good bartender - meaning this is his or her only job and they love it, they should immediately smile. This is an opportunity to show off, or provide something special, or introduce someone else to something they love. If that doesn't happen, and they frown or sigh or look put out, this isn't the bar you're looking for.

4. They should respond with, "What do you like?" What that means is "Based on what liquor?" So you answer "gin" or "vodka" (boooooring) or "whiskey" or "tequila" or whatever. You could also say, "Surprise me," and they should be okay with that. If that doesn't happen, and you end up with a Martini, this isn't the bar you're looking for.

5. At some point, share your name and ask theirs. Who knows, you may become a regular here. Names are nice to know, and also nice to share with visitors, as in "Go to this bar and ask for Janet. She'll do you right."

6. Having settled on a liquor, what else do you like? Sweet? Bitter? Herbal? Fruity? Something like this drink, but nothing like that drink? Are you allergic to anything? Like, what about egg whites? Basil? anything that should be ruled out, rule it out. You're not offending anyone, the bartender wants to make you happy.

7. Then sit back and leave yourself in their hands. Tip well. If you like it, say so. If you don't, say so. Ask to see the bottle(s). Ask for a straight taste. Watch as they make the drink so you can make it yourself if you want to.

This isn't something you're likely to do while awaiting a table or if you're in a hurry. This is a drop-in and hang-out thing. Shoot the shit with the bartender. Introduce your friends. Relax. Sip. Enjoy.

A subterranean den of warmth, music, and drink, London’s Nightjar is our favorite new bar of 2011. At the helm is Marian Beke, formerly of Montgomery Place, whose skill, charm, and astonishing memory (we hadn’t had a drink from him in two years, and still...) place him among the best bartenders in the world.

Befitting the underground feel, the cocktail menu is replicated in the form of a custom deck of playing cards, which double as coasters.

All of the drinks were great, but the standout was The Name of the Samurai: Nikka Whisky, vanilla sugar, fresh lavender, ginger and raisin sake, and lime. This is, like many of the drinks on the menu, is an original creation of Mr. Beke. And like many of the drinks on the menu, it had an unusual garnish: here, a small green tea shortbread cookie served across the top of the glass

We hear that Nightjar usually has music, though there wasn’t anyone booked the night we were there a few weeks after they opened.  But a friend of the owner -- a tall, languid, central-casting Oxonian -- had a splendid go at some piano rags while we were there, and we can only imagine what the space would be like filled with the “red hot dark dirty swing” promised by one upcoming band.

If you find yourself in London, Nightjar is on the must-visit list.

Comstock Saloon – established in 2010 in the flavor of a century or more before – is one of our favorite bars in San Francisco. It provides for all our needs: culinary, cocktailian, and musical.

The interior is 1890s-y without being pushy about it.  Our favorite element, of course, is the statue of notable local Emperor Norton presiding over the bar. This establishment is a major improvement over the space’s former inhabitant, the San Francisco Brewing Company (which served acceptable beer but always seemed to smell like cleaning fluid). The bar pleases from any seat, whether in a booth or perched on one of the fiercely-footed stools. The dining room provides delightful views of both the lively menagerie of North Beach and the frequently meaty goings on in the kitchen. The bar does have the advantage, however, of greater proximity to the consistently excellent musicians in the second-floor gallery.

The food is unusually good for a place that could be so deservedly known for its drinks.  We usually get the picnic plate and a pot pie. (As our Foursquare tip says: “The pot pie, Sir. The pot pie.”)  But we’ve yet to find anything on the menu that isn’t good. Particularly notable is the Pig in a Biscuit, which is (and we mean this as a very, very positive thing) like a McDonald’s Sausage Biscuit with a master’s degree.

The drinks would really have to try hard to rebel against the positive influence of their parents, saloon keepers Jeff Hollinger and Jonny Raglin. Mercifully they are obedient, strong, beautifully-mannered children who would make anyone proud.  Unlike most children, they frequently arrive in lovely antique glasses.

We have not noticed a decline in the quality of drinks since Jonny removed his moustaches.  We will, however, continue sampling vigilantly. 

Bibulo.us is on vacation, running around Europe, at the moment. But we had to share this post on copyright in cocktails by Chris Sprigman and Kal Rautsiala from the New York Times Freakonomics blog.  The post argues that, like dishes, cocktails aren't and shouldn't be subject to copyright, because the incentive for innovation is sufficient without the need for intellectual property rights. 

Joe is pleased to be in the assuredly narrow slice of people to have had cocktails with both Eben Freeman (whose desire for IP rights in his innovative techniques gave rise to the post) and Chris Sprigman (who Joe worked for during law school).

Air & Water Inc. was nice enough to send us a review unit of their NewAir Portable Ice Maker, model AI-100SS. It's a luggable, countertop ice maker that takes water and electricity and outputs ice cubes.

Or should we say, ice thimbles. The machine works by chilling nine short rods in a water bath, cold enough that ice forms around the rods.  When time's up, the machine ejects the resulting ice into a hopper.  The hopper is cleverly positioned over the water reservoir, so as the ice melts, it gets recycled into new ice.

We started up the ice maker and let it run for a few hours. It produces nine cubes every 10 minutes or so, making about a pound of ice every hour. The first few sets are pretty anemic; the cubes didn't get to full size until the fourth or fifth set. 

We tried the ice (on the "large" setting) in a stirred drink, a shaken drink, and as crushed ice.

For our stirred drink, we chose the Liberal. (It was appropriate for the evening, since I was sorting through the San Francisco election materials while waiting for the ice.)  Here are the results.

It's perfectly nice ice. Not particularly big or particularly dry, but better than your average sopping wet party ice.  The thimble shape gives the cubes a ton of surface area, so the stirred drink came to temperature pretty fast.

For our shaken drink, we chose the Last Word. (We also, by the way, chose CapRock gin for this which makes a fantastic Last Word. Our new go-to for this cocktail).

As you can see, the shape of the ice made it break up into tiny pieces almost instantly. 

The drink was great, without a lot of ice flecks making it through the strainer. We usually like to see bigger pieces post-shake, but the drink didn't suffer.

For the crushed-ice drink, we chose the  . . . well, never mind. (We didn't have the necessary ingredients for any crushed-ice drink we like.) But we crushed the ice anyway, and it turned out perfectly nicely.

So, in all, a pretty nice ice maker.

Does this have any utility for people with a refrigerator ice maker, or those who like big cubes and use Beaba trays? No, the ice it makes is smaller and wetter than that.  

Can it