Pretend, for a moment.

This is not really new content.

It really is NEW, so that's good. It's just not so content-ish.

But one cannot be deaf to the vox populi, so I must place digit to keyboard and issue dispatches from the front.

Today's dispatch is in the form of a cocktailian recipe.

Many, MANY epochs ago, my parents' go-to beverage was the whisk(e)y sour. Having grown up practically submerged in rum and its cocktail offspring, bourbon was seen as both The Done Thing in this new (to my parents) land, and also as quite an exotic quaff. So there you have it. At that time (i.e. the tail end of the Mad Men years) this was a very big cocktail, having supplanted in popularity the dry Martini and Manhattan as a looser and more relaxed beverage.

Then, of course, that ghetto of a decade (the 1970s) clamped its jaws upon the throat of civilization and all manner of vile beverages infested the land. But now cocktailness is making something of a rennaissance in the broader culture and with it come classic potions of yore.

So I go for the Whisk(e)y Sour. It is yummy, and soothing and also I have a gift bottle of Virginia Gentleman I'd like to finish so that I may free up shelf space to try something new, bourbonwise.

So here is my recipe.

Take an old-fashioned or double old-fashioned (i.e. "rocks") glass, and stash it in the freezer. Some people suggest filling the glass with ice, but the appalling slowness of my icemaker, I like not wasting such a precious commodity.
Assemble your ingredients. Lemon, bourbon (in this case Virginia Gentleman, which I am trying to finish) and simple syrup. (You will note the judicious use of the labelmaker.)

Slice your lemon in half, equatorially. (Incidentally, if you use a Meyer lemon you will need less syrup.) If you use a manual citrus press, cut two deep perpendicular scores into each lemon half.
Squeeze. An average lemon should get you 2oz (+/-60ml) of juice.Add your bourbon. 1½ ounces (+/-45ml).
Then your syrup. Call it one ounce (+/-30ml)

Fill your shaker's tumbler with cracked ice. (Some people like to add some of the lemon peel. I approve, but often don't remember or cannot be bothered.) Shake until a thin frost forms on the outside of the steel part of the shaker.Strain into the awaiting vessel filled with fresh, "dry" ice. (Not "dry ice" but ice that happens to be dry. This is crucial.)

There you go.

-J.

Things Without Which You Oughtn't Live

Last night, I went to a tasting since my client (the guy who was supposed to be at the tasting) begged off and handed me his ticket. The tasting was of a few food purveyors who brought along interesting tidbits for the assemble to taste and, they hoped, order in staggering quantities. The tidbits were pretty good, actually...even if they were a bit unorthodox (trout caviar, cherry-smoked salmon, etc., etc.) but that's not what blew me away. THIS was:

This Glacier vodka was soooo smooth and haunting I spent a perfectly untenable amount of my nonexistent free time tracking it down to find out what it was. I strongly urge you to seek it out and drink it. Me? I'm dreaming of lacing the ideal Bloody Mary therewith but those of you who prefer abominations (like a vodka martini) or merely aberrations (such as vodka and tonic), will likewise adore it. And I'm not a vodka fan.

The ironic thing of it is that it's not Russian. Hell, it's not even Eastern European...or even European! It's from Ida-freakin'-ho. But they know their taters in Idaho and apparently they also know what to do with Rocky Mountain water and also what ought be done to surplus spuds.

You're welcome, Internet.

-J.