What's the Sound of One Hand Drinking Beer?

I suppose it's time to talk about that American wild ale tasting I recently mentioned. Fortunately for my one hand (the last two weeks have been filled with some of the least erotic one handed typing of my life) there are write-ups here (by the man behind the plan, Rob), here, and here! For the intensely interested, be sure to check out the menu/notes right 'round these parts. Of course, since I long ago shot brevity in the face over a land dispute, I've got to give some of my own beer ignorant impressions.

-- The food was all around fantastic, but the way Rob paired it with the beers was perfect. My favorite beer of the day was the Allagash Interlude, in large part because of Rob's matching it up with delicious, delicious cured meats. The fat from the meat cut the sour, and tamed the carbonation allowing for the full rich flavor of the beer to come out from behind the funk.

-- Being a friend of Rob, other beer enthusiasts tend to think I know a goddamned thing about beer. This is not true. I believe the most technical terms I used during the day were "fucking" and "delicious". Fertile ground for a cocktail geek to feel alienated, but the crew who was there was an insanely welcoming lot.

-- Listening to two beer enthusiasts argue about the difference between a cask and a keg is hilarious.

-- At the end of the tasting, having polished off all the beer, JJ admitted to having brought a small bottle of Angel’s Share. I had never heard of this beer, but the bulging eyes, and childlike giggling it wasn't hard to figure out that it was a special bottle. I offered to stay out of the tasting, as its full power would have been lost on me, but the kids were having none of it. Thank God for that, because sweet Jesus! It was a full steam punch of amazing in a glass. So good just opening the bottle made Lil Baby Pfiff cry. If you come across this, buy as much as you can afford -- Then a few more bottles.

Keep your eyes open for the next one coming soon. Right Rob? Huh? Yeah, you love it!

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.

Paucity of Posting

While we know we don't really provide a cascade of content, we like to think we do a pretty good job of bringing the goods. Unfortunately, Ed is working on getting a reliable internet connection, and a few days ago I sustained a hand injury that has left me pretty much one handed for the near future. Just wanted to let you, our fine ass regular readers, know that while posting may slow down a bit (typing with only ones non-dominent hand sucks) we're still around. There's still the stuff I mentioned in the last update being worked on, and Ed and I knocked out a rather tasty little drink, so stick with us.

We think of you all at last call.

The Lonely Friday Link -- Of Love!

Well, it's been a while hasn't it? We've missed you! While we continue to work on a few things, we recommend you take a gander at an excellent article over on 7x7 Magazine's site by local wine and spirits writer Jordan Mackay chronicling a night at his, well, night job -- Manning the bar at Cantina. It's an interesting peek at the frequently not so sexy world of bartending.

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.

Taste the (Beer) Rainbow!

Like beer? Of course you do! Ever had an American Wild Ale? Me neither! Fortunately for all of us, Overlord Beernerd Rob is hosting a tasting of many of these fine brews because he loves you. The full lowdown can be found here.

The best part, of course, is that I'll be there lending a hand with the food. Delicious, delicious food. If you're lucky I'll tell you all about the John/Tom Collins. Oh, who am I kidding, I'm going to tell you why whether you like it or not.

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.

Plymouth Sloe Gin

As regular readers may remember, when I heard that Plymouth Sloe Gin was making its way to our shores I was, well, a bit excited. Its arrival turned out to be a bit of a clusterfuck, as arrival dates for the precious liquid came and went with no Plymouth and no idea from the (very patient) folks at the store I continued to bombard with my presence. When it finally arrived I was almost vibrating with excitement. Sitting on my desk at work, it mocked me with its not being open. Never before was I so tempted to drink on the job.

Once home with my precious cargo, a dark thought came over me. My expectations had blown themselves a bit out of proportion, and I was fearing a huge letdown. In my fevered brain this product, only spoken about in whispers, was some sort of curative nostrum of the soul. To sip this drink would be to see the face of creation. I poured myself a wee bit of the stuff, and (trying to lower my expectation) took a sip. I didn't have any holy hallucinations, but I'll be damned if it wasn't fucking delicious.

Knowing that sloe berries are so tart as to be virtually inedible, I was expecting either a much more astringent product, or something that was perhaps overly sweetened to mask the puckering punch. Rather than either of those, there was a wonderful balance between the sweet and the sour. The first thing that hit me, was an intense, jammy flavor that's somewhat difficult to describe. It was kind of like a mash up of fruits, none of which could easily be pinned down (though the most distinct flavor I got was blackberry). In the finish I got a slight, and somewhat surprising, hint of strawberry.

With that out of the way, it was time for a cocktail! I began to consult my various books, and websites -- I knew I could give the classic Sloe Gin Fizz a whirl, but I was interested in giving something else a shot if it caught my eye. What eventually caught it, was the Daisy recipe from David Wondrich's fantastic new book Imbibe. Here's the specifics of what I used.

Sloe Gin Daisy

2 oz. Plymouth Sloe Gin
.5 oz. lemon juice
1.5 tsp. Creole Shrub
1 tsp. simple syrup

Shaken, and strained into a cocktail glass, and topped with soda.

With the inherent tartness of the Plymouth, and the half ounce of lemon juice with nothing but a couple of teaspoons of sweetener to balance it out, I was sure it was going to be one tart beverage. Oh how wrong I was -- This little baby is a thing of beauty. It's just sweet enough to keep it from being too tart for human consumption, and makes for a cocktail that falls perfectly in my dryness range. In his book, Wondrich briefly debates the type of glass to use, and advises the cocktail as it prevents adding in too much soda. It's a suggestion that's right on the money, as there was just enough effervescence to open up the drink, but it was pretty easy to tell that it wouldn't have taken much more to drown out the complexity of the other ingredients.

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.

I Like to Watch

A little bit of video love for this fine Tuesday.

Recently, our very own H. Joseph Ehrmann (proprietor of Elixir and gad about town) made an appearance on View From the Bay. He helped the hosts whip up some of his cocktails -- sans booze, because I guess they thought drinking in the morning shouldn't be encouraged (Bah!). Thanks to the magic of the internet you can watch the segment here. I don't have to tell you to un-mock these right?

For those of you, like me, that weren't able to make it Tales of the Cocktail, The Liquid Muse brought some solace in the form of several videos. You can catch them all here, at Robert "Drink Boy" Hess' site. While you're there I'd recommend taking a look at his other pieces if you haven't already.

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.

Field Trip -- Clock Bar

Last week, the single greatest Cocktail celebration in the whole of creation went down in New Orleans -- Tales of the Cocktail. It is an event horizon of cocktail geeks, bartenders, and boozy luminaries. Five days of liquor fueled mayhem, and savage delights that are not to be missed. Unless you're me. Who was here in San Francisco. Ed, however, dispatched himself to pick up my slack, and assuaged my sorrow by sending me texts like, "Just talked to Gary [Regan], it's going to be a good day.", and "At the Plymouth Sloe Gin tasting. Mmmmmmm, so good."

If that hadn't been enough, a cabal of the bloggers which form some of my daily reading were working to drive me mad by chronicling the festivites in all their rage inducing glory. Even though they have no idea who I am. That's how devious the conspiracy was. Fortunately I had the just opened Clock Bar (beware .pdf), with the masterful Marco Dionysus behind the bar, as my oasis. Even more fortunately I had a good friend in town who was staying at the St. Francis for business, and her time was constrained enough that we pretty much just hung out at the bar when she had a few spare hours.

I first poked my head in on their opening day, which happened to be my birthday -- I only had time for one drink before I had to run off and meet up with friends for what turned out to be a huge amount of whiskey, but I knew what I wanted -- The Wibble. I've been interested in seeing what the local mixologists would end up doing with the Plymouth Sloe Gin since it finally arrived at out shores, and I wasn't disapointed with this. Made with Plymouth Gin (London and Sloe), Grapefruit juice, lemon juice, and Crème de Mure, this was one hell of a drink that boasted a perfect balance between sweet, tart, and bitter. I was sad that I couldn't just stay there to drink myself silly, but knew I would have plenty more chances. Since, over the course of the following few days, I drank my way through half the menu I'll just say that not one of the drinks was anything short of superb, but there were a couple that really made me a happy monkey.

The Chartreuse Swizzle -- I'm a sucker for Green Chartreuse, and this one commanded me to order it. The name sounded familiar as well, but I assumed I was just keying into the swizzle part thanks to the Dolores Park Swizzle at Beretta having such a glorious hold on me. The drink was as good as it looked, and in talking to Marco about it, it turned out that I had actually heard of the drink before. The Velvet Falernum in the drink is a great foil for the Chartreuse -- It's even swizzled with a swizzle stick that Marco wouldn't let me steal.

The Pegu Cocktail -- This made me so fucking happy for two reasons. First, this was the cocktail I had a little over a year ago at The Pegu Club in New York that made me the cocktail geek I am today. Second, the only other Pegu I have had between then and now was truly awful. This one, however, took me right back to the first sip of that delicious beast on the East Coast. Goddamn.

Perhaps even better than the drinks is having Marco behind the bar. I had never gotten around to sampling his work at Tres Agave, but his reputation looms large, and it turns out to be well deserved. He's got the kind of infectious enthusiasm that makes for a complete experience. Even as people swarmed in (many of them not at all interested in having a cocktail, but rather wanted to talk to him about how they had read about the bar in the paper, and wasn't it such a nice place), and women vied for his attention (seriously, the ladies were totally on the D-Train. I can't believe I just wrote that.) he remained unflappable.

This is probably the best addition to the cocktail circuit here since Beretta, and being closer to my office makes it just that much better. They open daily at 4, and if last week is any indication I'd recommend ditching work a little early and getting there when they open so you can make sure to get a prime seat at the bar.

Comments always welcome or feel free to e-mail us at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.