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Cocktails

Is mezcal the next big thing?

Jon Bonne/The Chronicle

Granted, it could be because he's unveiling an agave-focused booze list at Nopalito, but bar chief Neyah White is adamant that mezcal is the Next Big Thing, ready to leave Tequila in the dust.

I feel like Tequila — in a serious context — is still awaiting broader consideration in this town (versus New York and L.A., which are getting deadly serious about it) but as Tequila reaches for the mainstream and gets ever more polished, what mezcal has in spades is its authenticity. Knowing how bar trends go in these parts, authenticity — terroir, really — will play. So I'll follow Neyah on that prediction.

To prove the point, he recently arranged a meeting with Ron Cooper, mezcal's presumed high priest. Cooper is an artist and the force behind Del Maguey, the single-village mezcals that have essentially resurrected the category. Well known to Bay Area connoisseurs, Del Maguey is a glorious parade of authentic artisan distilling; Cooper and his associates have spent years convincing the small-time palenqueros (distillers) to let him bottle their wares and ship them north for gringo consumption. Many releases are now certified organic, more a sign of diligence in navigating the certification process, as the agave is basically grown wild and harvested.

If Tequila has taken on airs, being steamed in autoclaves and distilled in pristine new stills, the palenqueros of Oaxaca are seriously old-school. Agave pinas are still usually baked and smoked over coals in pits; the stills are usually small copper affairs, except for Del Maguey's Minero, which is actually distilled in an old clay still that may well have pre-Spanish origins. "The Chinese were in Mexico 71 years before Columbus came to America," Cooper notes.

More to the point, mezcal is a pure white spirit — its level of smoke and complexity is achieved without any barrel aging, mostly from the long cooking process and a slow fermentation with indigenous yeasts. It is almost pre-industrial in its way. And so the resultant spirit expresses itself direct from the still. "I've always refused to put our stuff in wood, just to show the voice of the maker," Cooper told me.

Much ink could be spilled on the various Del Maguey villages. I'll give a brief wrap-up from a tasting last week.

Chichicapa, Cooper's first village from fertile granite and clay soils at lower elevations, is full and powerful; lots of warm spice and a rounder vanilla-edged smoke presence. By contrast, San Luis del Rio hails from hardscrabble soils, flint and granite higher in the hills, and it bursts with saline mineral power — focused, almost leathery and taut. The agave is funkier and edgy; think lemongrass and bark.

Santo Domingo Albarradas, from a remote mountain village ("one bus in and out every Sunday") situated next to a cloud forest at nearly 9,000 feet and grown on yellow granite and chalk, is in a situation Cooper compared to the coastal fog influence on Pinot Noir. A delicacy pervades it, with floral, pineapple and peach scents. Distinctly fruity, it has big pepper and ginger bite to the palate — the most wine-like of the lot in its layered flavors. The hearty Minero is its counterpoint. Grown on sandy iron-rich soils, it is made in that old clay still and exudes a musky, fruity, earthen quality, edged by big pepper and a ripe, plump texture. Its intensity sneaks up on you amid those round fruit notes. If the Santo Domingo is ethereal, the Minero is very much grounded.

And then there is the Tobala, with its distinct label artwork of trucks on a mountain road. The wild mountain Tobala agave is a finicky thing: taking 15 years to mature (about twice the usual time), tiny enough to require far more agave pinas per distillation than usual. This particular agave, grown in the shade of oaks, releases an enzyme that can dissolve the acidic granite soils in which it grows. Its scent is fecund, like lilies gone a day too far, with big fresh and pickled pear flavors, banana, the density of gum syrup and an iodine bite. There are even hints of sweet red-fruit flavors. At $125 per bottle, it is a rare treat.

As for mezcal being hot, that hasn't been Cooper's trajectory thus far. Beginning in 1995, it took him four years to sell his first run of 6,000 bottles. Now he works with at least five villages, plus three more ready to come available in limited editions. While he predicts his distillers could expand their production as much as tenfold, that's still a modest trade seeing as the rarest of his efforts, the Tobala, yields just 600 bottles a year.

Still, Cooper recently unveiled his potential crossover item: a less expensive bottle, Vida, for use behind the bar. One Boston bar is pouring five cases per week. (Cooper also makes the mezcal for the Sombra brand created by wine guys Richard Betts and Charles Bieler.) And the category is going to grow. Cuervo has the Talapa brand, and Cooper says the owner of Patron has planned a high-end mezcal that could hit $100 per bottle. Not farmer stuff anymore.

As for Nopalito? Starting today, it will be serving mezcals in approximately one-ounce pours ($4.50-9), with sal de guisado (conceptually, that's salt combined with the ground remains of the worm associated with mezcal, although the initial version will be more vegan-friendly) and orange. It's a good way to sip through a couple in a sitting, including the Del Maguey lineup.

So, mezcal hot?

"I hope not," Cooper says. "I've always said I wanted to be warm, not hot."

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | May 10 2010 at 10:10 AM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, Importers, Mezcal, Restaurants, Spirits, Tequila | Permalink | Comment count loading...

Mr. Wizard steps behind the bar

Once you've got shaker technique down, it's on to liquid nitrogen.

Jon Bonne/The Chronicle

Once you've got shaker technique down, it's on to liquid nitrogen.

It's helpful that I have categories on this blog for both "cocktails" and "science," because last night's event at the Exploratorium, "Science of Cocktails," requires both.

Billed as a look "at the physics, chemistry, and biology of cocktails," the fundraiser was a slightly surreal collision of the Exploratorium's science minds and some of our local bar luminaries. It was not unlike a slightly tipsy science fair, although the science and the drinking often seemed at a slight distance from each other. Lots of interesting drinks, lots of science — watching Everclear break the surface tension of melting ice water from an ice ball was pretty cool, even before taking a first sip of a cocktail — though they didn't necessarily come from the same folks.

There was, for example, a contest for the best use of bitters that included entries from Jackie Patterson (Heaven's Dog, Smuggler's Cove) and Scott Baird (15 Romolo), among others. That was more an exercise in tasting, though a pleasant one. By contrast, presentations were sprinkled through the evening on such topics as "Ice and Thermodynamics in Cocktails," from Erik Adkins (also Heaven's Dog).

One of the most successful meshings of science and booze came from Doug Williams of Liquid Alchemy, who was aerating Old Cuban cocktails using nitrous oxide and dropping it into liquid nitrogen to insta-freeze the foam. (Mine unfortunately wound up not quite frozen.) Served next to the traditional form, it made its molecular points quite well.

But the crowd seemed more intrigued by the Exploratorium's less-cocktailian science exhibits, and frankly it would be hard to argue with just holding an adults-only evening playtime there, along the lines of the California Academy of Sciences' Thursday-night revels. (Update: No need to argue. Turns out they host one monthly.) You haven't experienced cocktails until you've sipped them while dodging giant soap bubbles blown by grown men and women. (And no, Banco de Gaia was not playing in the background.)

In the end, one of the best bits of science came from Eric Muller, who works for the Exploratorium's Teacher Institute. Muller, who authored a book called "While You're Waiting For the Food to Come", was demonstrating bar tricks. His trick involving two forks stuck in a cork, balanced on a glass edge using a toothpick, might have made sense to those with a firm understanding of airplanes' centers of gravity (the forks' arms counterbalance the whole thing). But it's enough to dazzle a bar full of the thirsty and curious. Or, in this case, a museum full.

Jon Bonne/The Chronicle

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | January 21 2010 at 12:50 PM

Listed Under: Cocktails, Events, San Francisco, Science, Spirits | Permalink | Comment count loading...

Cocktail techniques: Tips and tricks

Catching an orange garnish in mid-flame.

Russell Yip/The Chronicle

Catching an orange garnish in mid-flame.

Cocktailian columnist Gary Regan shared many of his secrets in this Sunday's story on 10 essential cocktail techniques.

Since Gary isn't always close at hand to The Chronicle photo studio, we invited two of our local bar talents, Neyah White and Jackie Patterson, to help demonstrate Gary's techniques for the camera.

They were happy to help, and even added some tips of their own. We also managed to capture them on video during the photo shoot to bring most of these techniques to life.

As a further bonus, Gary suggested some classic recipes to help you practice. Get shaking!

 

How to measure

Below, Neyah demonstrates the use of a jigger. It's not hard to fill a jigger completely (make sure to fill it right to the top but not to flow it over), but watch how close he keeps it to the mixing glass rim to prevent a spill. When it's fully upturned, note that he shakes it to fully empty the jigger.

 

How to shake

Everyone has their own personal style (and facial expression) while shaking a drink. Neyah demonstrates a classic pose and a great tip for extracting the mixing glass.

Jackie, meantime, prefers a cheater tin, a smaller (usually 14- to 16-ounce) metal tin used in place of the mixing glass in a Boston shaker. Same technique, different equipment.

And Gary recommends a classic Mai Tai as a drink that will work out your shaking muscles. More on the Mai Tai here.

The Mai Tai
Makes 1 serving

1 1/2 ounces 10 Cane rum
1/2 ounce Wray & Nephew overproof rum
1/2 ounce Grand Marnier
3/4 ounce orgeat syrup
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
1 mint sprig, for garnish

Instructions: Pub all ingredients except garnish into a cocktail shaker. Fill shaker two-thirds full of ice and shake for approximately 15 seconds. Strain into a old-fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Add the garnish.

 

How to stir

Stirring techniques come with their share of controversy. Here Neyah shares one that's a bit quieter than some.

The classic stirred drink is a Manhattan, but Gary had a slightly different whiskey in mind. Plenty more from him on the Rob Roy can be found here.

The Rob Roy
Makes 1 serving

2 ounces Chivas Regal 18-year-old or other scotch
1 ounce Noilly Prat sweet vermouth
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
1 maraschino cherry, for garnish

Instructions: Place all ingredients except the garnish in a mixing glass. Add ice and stir. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Add the garnish.

 

How to pour

Using a strainer to pour your drink is a relatively easy technique to master. One of his tips, which Jackie demonstrates below, is to snap your wrist back a bit as you finish pouring. As with a wine bottle, this helps prevent any spilling.

 

How to muddle

Muddling ingredients for a drink can scare away a lot of home bartenders. It need not be so. Here Neyah demonstrates the full technique for making an old-fashioned cocktail. Just add whiskey.

Fruit is the other major ingredient for muddling. Jackie shows how to muddle pineapple. While there's plenty of pressure being applied, note that the movement is fluid. The muddler never bangs against the bottom of the glass.

 

The citrus twist

The citrus twist is one of the most misunderstood cocktail techniques. Too often it's simply decorative and not adding its subtle flavor to the drink. Neyah demonstrates how to make a proper citrus twist below:

For a slightly simpler and quicker method, you can also use a vegetable peeler to similar effect:

Finally, one of the great dramatic tricks of bartending is to flame an orange peel. (Not that hard to accomplish, but nearly impossible to capture on camera.) If the orange Jackie's using looks less than pristine, it's because this photo was not a one-take shot.

To practice the flamed garnish, Gary suggests a nouveau take on the Manhattan from cocktail pioneer Dale DeGroff. If you want more about the classic Manhattan, read Gary's opus "The Manhattan Project."

Manhattan East
Makes 1 serving
Adapted from a recipe by Dale DeGroff

1 1/2 ounces Makers Mark or other bourbon
1/2 ounce dry sake
2 dashes Peychaud's Bitters
1 ounce Domain de Canton ginger liqueur
1 flamed orange twist, for garnish

Instructions: Place all ingredients except the garnish in a mixing glass. Add ice and stir. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Light a match and hold it close to the top of the drink. Take the orange twist in your other hand and hold it by the sides. (The colored side of the twist should be pointing toward the drink.) Now hold the twist over the match and squeeze it to release its oils. Drop the twist into the drink.

 

Using herbs in cocktails

Aside from muddling herbs, simply using them as garnish helps to enliven a drink. Here Jackie shows how to prepare mint for a julep:

Gary has shared his proper julep recipe, which requires short straws to fully achieve what he terms julep "nirvana" from the mint. Much more on that here.

The Mint Julep
Makes 1 serving

2 to 3 ounces bourbon
1 to 2 ounces simple syrup
8 to 12 stems of fresh mint, as an aromatic garnish

Instructions: Cut straws so that they are approximately 2 inches taller than the serving glass. (If you don't have a silver julep cup, a tall slender collins glass works very well.) Add crushed ice to the cup or glass until it is two-thirds full. Add the bourbon and the syrup, and stir for 10 to 20 seconds. Add more crushed ice and stir again until a thin layer of ice forms on the outside of the glass, then add more crushed ice so that it domes slightly over the rim of the glass. Garnish with the fresh mint stems, and insert the straws. Serve with a cocktail napkin to catch the condensation.

 

How to rim a glass

To moisten the rim, you can run a citrus wedge around it.

Russell Yip/The Chronicle

To moisten the rim, you can run a citrus wedge around it.

As Gary explains, there's no greater issue with adding a rim than making sure only the outside of the glass touches the salt, sugar or whatever you're using. And what else would we practice with besides a Margarita? Our grand consideration of that drink can be found here. And Gary has shared his favorite recipe, also featured in one of his original Chronicle columns:

The Margarita
Makes 1 serving

3 ounces 100-percent agave white or reposado tequila
2 ounces Cointreau
1 ounce fresh lime juice

Instructions: Add all ingredients to a cocktail shakes. Add ice and shake for 10 to 15 seconds. Strain into a chilled, salt-rimmed cocktail glass.

 

How to rinse a glass

Rinsing a glass can add a bit of a liquor's taste to a drink without having to directly mix it in. Here Jackie shows how to add a bit of a spirit to a glass in the course of making a Sazerac.

And of course, a recipe. More thoughts from Gary on the Sazerac can be found here.

The Sazerac
Makes 1 serving

1/2 ounce absinthe
3 ounces straight rye whiskey
1/2 ounce simple syrup
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
1 lemon twist, for garnish

Instructions: Pour the absinthe substitute into a chilled old-fashioned glass. Swirl the glass to coat the interior and discard the excess liquid. Place the whiskey, syrup and bitters into a mixing glass. Add ice, stir and strain into the glass. Add the garnish.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | January 19 2010 at 08:22 AM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, Recipes, Tequila, Whiskey | Permalink | Comment count loading...

Last-minute gift ideas (drinking edition)

Look for the hinge.

Look for the hinge.

I still have some thoughts about my 10 most memorable wines of the year, including a lot of contenders I intend to share that didn't quite make it but are worth mentioning.

But right this moment, unless you're one of those types who bought your 2010 planner around Halloween, you're probably having that last-minute gift freakout.

We've already covered lots of gift ideas this season for the imbiber in your life: books; wines; whiskies and more.

But if you haven't stocked stuffings just yet, I've dug through the pile for a few more quick ideas:

  • Bubbly wisdom: If you can only dream of real Champagne this year, or if someone you know is looking to geek out, "The Finest Wines of Champagne" (UC Press, 320 pages, $35) is a reliable guide. Part of a series launched by the team at World of Fine Wine, this effort by Michael Edwards provides in-depth profiles of most of the major houses and significant growers, putting faces and colorful details to their labels. For a constantly up-to-date guide to the subject (and a gift you can buy without moving from your computer), I'll again suggest the excellent Champagneguide.net ($89/year), the extensive online guide run by writer Peter Liem, which I've praised before. (Liem, who lives in the Champagne region, is an occasional contributor to The Chronicle.)

  • Bubbly itself, under $20: It's lovely and timely to have Champagne on hand (some recent recommendations here) but just about any wine with fizz — OK, maybe not those with a plastic top — under twenty bucks will find a happy purpose in the next couple weeks. Open it with eggs, toast being done with shopping, mix it in punch, have a glass with Christmas Day DVDs ... whatever. It's a cost-effective way to add a bit of happy. Cava (I'm partial to Avinyo and Dibon, and Cristalino if I'm under $10) and Prosecco (keep an eye out for Alice, Drusian and Ca'Vittoria) are never a bad idea. Closer to home I'm with many of my fellow wine writers in loving the perennial utility of the Roederer Estate Anderson Valley Brut, which usually can be found at the closest supermarket in case you suddenly need a house gift.

  • A good corkscrew: But not an expensive one. For around $10 you should be able to get a hinged waiter's corkscrew (like this), with a Teflon or synthetic worm (the part that goes into the cork) that comes out more easily — and crucially, a hinge on the arm that helps you pull the cork in two easy motions. It might not be the flashiest thing in the stocking, but honestly it's the most helpful and arthritis-preventing thing you can buy the wino in your life. As a bonus, pick up a Screwpull foil cutter (around $7-8) to make your bottles look prettier on the table. Both of these will outlast most of those fancy cork gadgets that get used until about January 8 and then either break or disappear in the Kitchen Drawer of Mystery.

  • Good bar tools: Because we'll never buy them for ourselves. My revelation this year was the cocktail beaker, which is a pretty great gift for anyone who drinks martinis, Manhattans or Negronis at least once a week. But along with that, consider a good bar spoon that has a bit more heft than the cheap ones — a better shaker set; or a Hawthorn strainer more durable than those in the housewares aisle. The Oxo is a solid pick. Also, if you like citrus in your drinks — or in general — steal one of my gift ideas from a couple years ago and buy a sturdy citrus squeezer. Sur La Table and Cask (17 3rd St., San Francisco) are good starting places for all this. If you really are full up on tools, adorn your bar with inspiration from "Lush Life: Portraits from the Bar", (Mud Puddle Books, 80 pages, $25), a visual trek through the top modern bar characters from Jill DeGroff, wife of cocktail whiz Dale DeGroff. And yes, that's our own Gary Regan on the cover.

  • Amari: aka, digestive bitters. (Read here, here and here.) Because after a holiday meal, you'll all need them.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | December 23 2009 at 02:24 PM

Listed Under: Bitters, Books, Champagne, Cocktails, Equipment, Gifts, Shopping, Sparkling Wine | Permalink | Comment count loading...

Martinis: Some lessons learned

Behold the beaker.

Brant Ward/The Chronicle

Behold the beaker.

The research — yes, research, stop rolling your eyes — for this past Sunday's column on how to make a great martini was exhaustive, and exhausting.

There were a few more things we could have done: measuring the precise final volumes of the drinks after stirring, for instance. But instead of the laissez-faire Rat Pack approach that has dominated martini literature over the years, we wanted real answers to take to the bank.

None of which is to suggest you need to follow our instructions precisely. Trying to change martini behavior is akin to convincing everyone that we got this whole driving-on-the-right thing wrong. No matter what we found in our controlled setting, your results will vary. Your ice will vary, your tools will vary, your wrist motion will vary. (Watch the video below.)

Having subsequently made many, many more martinis to field-test our conclusions, I will absolutely swear by one key discovery: the beaker. Use one.

You don't need to fork over more than $40 for one of the professional cocktail beakers used by our panel of bar wizards. I particularly liked the suggestion from Eric Johnson of Delarosa, which I mentioned in the piece, to get a replacement French press beaker; at around $13 it will not only help in your martini-making but in pretty much any stirred drink. If you have access to a lab supply store, a flat-sided Pyrex beaker also will work fine. (I couldn't easily locate one in the city.)

The beaker's value? It keeps the ice from being stacked and crowded, and generally provides more surface area for the drink to be properly mixed amid the melting ice. You get a better-mixed, more uniform drink. The ice is properly melted to dilute the martini and the drink's balance improves a ton. Until our afternoon of gin, I had thought the beaker was just one more piece of frivolous barware. Totally wrong. If you're serious about stirred cocktails, the $13 investment is well worth it. And if that's too much, I've been using a large working glass at home (about $2) with far better results than the standard pint mixing glass.

Other takeaway lessons:

  • Stir for more than 30 seconds. Less than that and you're cheating yourself out of a proper drink. If you don't feel like timing yourself, just count to 40 or 45. Stir through at least a full verse of "Lady Is a Tramp." The longer you stir, the more the drink's temperature stabilizes. The bigger the ice (all four of our bar folk vetoed cracking the cubes) the slower it will melt. You want to stretch out your stirring time to fully integrate the drink.

  • Colder isn't better. We're not talking about serving a lukewarm drink. You've got below-freezing ice and room temperature (or slightly chilled) ingredients. The result should land somewhere just below 32 degrees, and that holds the martini together far better than treating it to the mixological equivalent of the Polar Bear Club. Hence why you shouldn't freeze your gin, either. A martini shouldn't be about brain freeze; it needs to remain refreshing as you work your way to the bottom of your glass. And you want to relax and linger over your martini, don't you?

  • Smaller is better. Shy of five ounces will help to ensure that you finish it while it's still cold. Better to mix another than have it get warm — or worse, have the remainder sit in a shaker as the ice melts and ruins the second half of your Big Gulp-sized cocktail.

But most important? Find a method that works for you. The martini-making microclimate of your house is going to require fine-tuning. If you really enjoy martinis (or Manhattans, which Gary Regan tackled) arm yourself with a good beaker and take an hour to tweak your habits. It's one holiday gift you'll thank yourself for again and again.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | December 11 2009 at 01:01 PM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, Equipment, Gin, Science, Spirits | Permalink | Comment count loading...

Chefs.Food.Wine ... and cocktails

Cocktails under the Big Tent.

thechancellorhotel.blogspot.com

Cocktails under the Big Tent.

There was much to enjoy about the inaugural SF Chefs.Food.Wine event last weekend — including a lot of pretty impressive wine, fulfilling the third part of the title triptych. But admittedly there was a small swell of pride at Thursday night's opening event at seeing all our Bar Stars doing what they do best.

Not that there was a doubt we had highlighted some impressive cocktailians. But to have them all under one roof (OK, tent roof) at the heart of Union Square, stirring, shaking and flaming up a storm, was ultimate gratification. You'd be hard-pressed to drink better at any one place at any time. Among those appearing: Brooke Arthur (Range); Martin Cate (the forthcoming Smuggler's Cove); Marco Dionysos (until recently of Clock Bar; now a free agent); Reza Esmaili (Conduit); Neyah White (Nopa); Dominic Venegas (Gitane and more); Thad Vogler (Camino, Beretta, etc.); Carlos Yturria (Bacar and more).

Even with some Monday-afternoon quarterbacking here at the Chronicle offices, we couldn't settle on which drinks we liked the best. They were all pretty spectacular both in flavor and execution. Among the feats pulled off: Neyah White's gallons upon gallons of strawberry shrub. To wield that much vinegar probably requires a license in most states.

Here are a couple recipes from the lineup. Fair warning: One reason these drinks left such an impression is the level of advance planning most of them required. If you have other favorite drinks you encountered during the Union Square extravaganza, let me know and I'll try to get recipes. Meantime, break out your kitchen torches and maple syrup.

The Dead Reckoning

This effort by Martin Cate was both seamlessly constructed and potent. Like many of Cate's neo-tiki efforts, it will serve as a summer drink in both the traditionally sunny and San Francisco contexts

2 oz. aged rum (Cate used Flor De Cana 12-year; he also recommends Cockspur 12-year)
1/2 oz. Navan vanilla liqueur
1/2 oz. pure maple syrup
1/2 oz. tawny port
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 oz. pineapple juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 oz. soda water

Combine all ingredients except soda water in a cocktail shaker. Add ice, shake and strain into a highball glass over fresh ice. Top with soda water. Stir gently to combine. Garnish with pineapple leaves, mint spring, and a lemon spiral.

Pacifico

For this rather intense effort — seared cinnamon and all — Dom Venegas wanted to source ingredients that could be found all around the Pacific Rim, hence the name. For the strawberry and pineapple juice, you'll either want a juicer or a blender and a good strainer. Perhaps more of a weekend-project drink.

2 oz. blanco Tequila (Venegas suggests 7 Leguas)
1 oz. fresh strawberry juice
1 oz fresh pineapple juice
1/2 oz. infused agave nectar (see below)
1/2 oz. fresh ruby red grapefruit juice (optional)
1 1/4 tsp. cinnamon, freshly grated
Pinch of cayenne pepper
Pinch of black pepper

Combine the cinnamon, cayenne and black pepper and set aside. Place the Tequila, agave nectar and juices together in a cocktail shaker. Add ice, shake and pour into an old fashioned glass — either straight up or over ice, your choice. Sprinkle a small amount of the spice mix on top. With a kitchen torch, very briefly flame the spices floating atop the drink to release the scents. Garnish with an optional pineapple frond.

Note: To make the infused agave nectar, take a bottle of agave nectar. Add several slices of fresh ginger and 1 tsp of cayenne. Let it sit for 1 to 2 days.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | August 12 2009 at 01:15 PM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, Recipes, Rum, San Francisco, Tequila | Permalink | Comment count loading...

The Dark 'n' Stormy, reconsidered

A rare sighting of Blenheim ginger ale.

Jon Bonne/The Chronicle

A rare sighting of Blenheim ginger ale.

For those outside the fog belt, we're now into the throes of summer. That means, among other things, we can indulge in proper summer drinks.

Key among them is the Dark 'n' Stormy, that mix of dark rum and ginger beer that so perfectly sums up the lovely dichotomy of Bermudan life -- one dose of tropical ease, one splash of British colonial snap.

Of course, as Jonny Miles revealed yesterday in an excellent New York Times column, the Dark 'n' Stormy must be made with a very specific rum -- Gosling's Black Seal. Or else. The Gosling family, which has been doing business in Bermuda since about the time the American navy was fighting the First Barbary War at the turn of the 19th century, has trademarked said drink. Should you want a Dark 'n' Stormy, legally, there had better be Gosling's in your glass.

But as Miles puts it, locking up the intellectual property of a drink "seems anathema to the current bartending practice of putting creative individual spins on time-tested drinks." Apparently open-sourcing (I rather like his description of it as "a wiki process") has not escaped the beverage world, either.

So now seems like the time to share a recipe I've been enjoying since last summer, one that incidentally happens to harness three of my favorite tastes of last year.

There is the notion of the Dark 'n' Stormy in this drink, though I view that more as departure point than anything else. For one, the D'n'S is really more of a highball than a cocktail -- lovely in its two-ingredient (plus garnish) simplicity, but really more a refresher than a concoction. This brings in more overt ginger flavor, with the Domaine de Canton providing a baseline for the ginger ale. And lime, rather than a garnish, plays a crucial role in tying together the richer notes of the rum and liqueur and the sharp ginger kick. As to the rum, it really is a matter of taste. Gosling's will work here, though I find its charred molasses notes outshout the other flavors.

One holdup: the Blenheim No. 3 hot ginger ale. Despite my repeated kvetching, its brief appearance at BevMo has not been repeated for a while now, and whether you believe the theories about the scarcity of one of South Carolina's greatest resources, it has not been around on this coast lately. (I'm down to my last two bottles.) As a backup, I'd suggest one of the spicier ginger beers around -- Bundaberg works fine -- with a drop or two of Tabasco if you want to edge closer to Blenheim's fire. Myself, I find the heat in the drink notably takes the edge off a hot day.

Finally, there's the name, especially since use of the original is so highly regulated. This one took a while, but ultimately when thinking of the original name, my thoughts turned to "The Tempest" -- island, storm, the pieces all fit. (Note that Miles' thoughts also turned to Shakespeare.) The curious phrase "last of our sea-sorrow" is how Prospero describes the endgame of his and daughter Miranda's arrival on the island. It seemed a proper choice.

Last of Our Sea Sorrow
(With thanks and/or apologies to William Shakespeare)

2 ounces Ron Pampero Aniversario or other dark, aged rum
1/2 ounce Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur
1/4 ounce lime juice
4 oz Blenheim ginger ale (hot, preferably)
1 slice lime for garnish (optional)

Mix rum, Canton and lime juice in a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake vigorously for 10-15 seconds. Either strain over fresh ice cubes into a highball glass and top with ginger ale, or strain into small goblet and add chilled ginger ale. Garnish with lime.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | July 06 2009 at 10:30 AM

Listed Under: Cocktails, Recipes, Rum | Permalink | Comment count loading...

A serious spot for Tequila

Gothamist.com

Do not ask for a salt rim. Really.

New York is in a tizzy of new cocktail boites -- Clover Club, Rye, Dutch Kills -- but my one must-stop this past trip was to Mayahuel, the new project from Phil Ward, an East Coast bartender cocktail virtuoso (formerly at Death & Co.) who we've featured before and who has made the occasional appearance behind a San Francisco bar.

Ward's muse for Mayahuel is Tequila; mezcal, too. Virtually every drink on the cocktail list includes them in some form, often both together. This particular focus has brought the bar, and Ward, plenty of attention. Typically the hook is that Mayahuel propels beyond its worm-and-sombrero antics, past the realm of cheap Cuervo and low-grade Margaritas. Fair enough. But Tequila was already getting ample reconsideration both at venues like Death & Co. (thanks in part to Ward), and at San Francisco haunts like Tommy's Mexican and Cantina.

This has evidently been Tequila's year to finally earn to serious-tipple status. New bottlings like Don Pilar or Ocho's latest vintage release have allowed the fixated among us to fill our upper shelves. What Mayahuel brings to the table, however, isn't just Tequila, seriously. It's the long-awaited anointment of Tequila in a properly serious cocktail context.

Ward's menu is divided into two halves -- the "Agave Fresco" side covering sweeter and citrus-based drinks, while the "Strange Stirrings" (indeed) side filters agave through a savory context. (There are also four pages of Tequilas and mezcals you can order neat.) It's a philosophical divide on Tequila/mezcal I can endorse. The night I visited, amid a brutal downpour, I stuck to the savory, belly-warming side.

The Italian Inquisition (cocktails $13) is a bitters-lover's paradise: Punt e Mes, Averna and the Bittermens Xocolatl Mole bitters (now commercially available from Germany's The Bitter Truth), with Solerno blood-orange liqueur and reposado Tequila. Dark and brooding, with a carousel of subtle bitter notes, it's just the thing for a Negroni lover going through a Sylvia Plath phase.

From there I was guided to the Slight Detour, which combines agave four ways: jalapeño Tequila, reposado Tequila, joven mezcal and agave syrup, with a bit of the Xocolatl Mole as an accent. It was an intense meditation on agave and heat -- vegetal and smoky notes coming from every side, with two distinct kicks from the jalapeños and bitters. There were many subtler offerings on the list -- consider the Trato Hecho, with pinapple-infused mezcal, lime, Chartreuse and maraschino liqueur -- but it was around 1 a.m. on a very quiet, very rainy evening and I suspect I was getting the advanced course.

My agave evening was one of many stops this trip, including a return to Jim Meehan's PDT (holding up just fine amid the attention), a return to Terroir (the pork blade steak really is all that; also -- Marc Roy Marsannay Blanc) and a spendy, fruitless visit to Apotheke ($45 for three drinks, one sent back) that reinforced any skepticism about menus without prices or the notion of using cilantro in a cocktail. (Also, a winery visit you can read about in Sunday's paper.)

But Mayahuel makes its point. Its very existence speaks not only to Tequila's long-awaited resurrection from a long spring-break purgatory; it also proves that the era of serious Tequila cocktails is upon us. Suddenly vodka seems like a distant memory.

Mayahuel, 304 E. 6th St. (near 2nd Ave.), New York, (212) 253-5888.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | June 25 2009 at 10:15 AM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, New York, Tequila | Permalink | Comment count loading...

San Francisco gets a temple to rum

Martin Cate will be back behind the bar this fall.

Craig Lee/The Chronicle, 2008

Martin Cate will be back behind the bar this fall.

Though the Tequila onslaught continues, rum has been quietly making gains as the must-drink spirit of the moment. Now comes news that Bay Area rummies will have a new watering hole of their own, from none other than neo-tiki master Martin Cate.

Cate, a founder of Alameda's Forbidden Island and one of our 2008 Bar Stars, will be opening Smuggler's Cove in November. The San Francisco bar will maintain a keen focus on rum, not unlike Cate's impressive collection of rums behind the bar in Alameda. We've been wondering where Cate would surface since he left Forbidden Island in February, saying that he was looking for a location for a project of his own.

If Forbidden Island kept largely within the tiki context, Smuggler's Cove will expand the rum repertoire, wrapping in traditions from the Caribbean and particularly Cuba. It will also, according to a release, "include waterfalls, vintage nautical decor and rum memorabilia, and relics from some of San Francisco's most famous historic watering holes," which may be some relief to those convinced that the potential demise of the Tonga Room will mark the end of life as we know it. "It will be pretty dramatic," Cate says of the decor.

As for the drinks, there may be some modern variations on rum themes, but Cate says he also wants to focus on some earlier traditions that have since been disregarded: "I think some of the old classics aren't explored very much." For instance, the El Presidente, a classic Havana cocktail, is "long overdue for a revisit," he says, as is the Planter's Punch.

And what of the much-loved/much-hated Rum & Coke? Could that get a thoughtful mixological revisit? "As long as youve got a bold rum that could come through and a really great cola," Cate says. Don't rule it out. (But don't expect it as a signature drink either.)

Smuggler's Cove will be a straight bar -- so no food aside from what Cate describes as "some artisanal snack products." But, thankfully, he promises to have one feature that helped perfect the vibe at Forbidden Island: swizzle sticks.

Oh, there is the matter of location.

Cate is mum on the subject. But those with a keen eye will spot a hidden link on the new project's web site, which leads to a "Lost"-like game with clues to where Smuggler's Cove will be. Happy hunting.

smugglerscovesf.com

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | June 04 2009 at 09:20 AM

Listed Under: Bars, Cocktails, Rum, San Francisco | Permalink | Comment count loading...

An in-depth guide to Champagne

It takes a steady hand ...

Craig Lee/The Chronicle

It takes a steady hand ...

For as much as Champagne is beloved, there's a gaping void in advice about it once you move beyond the same few obvious names.

Part of this is intentional: Champagne more than most places is dominated by its largest brands (in turn run by large corporations with more than bubbles on their minds), and despite the endless enthusiasm of we writer types for many smaller houses, most have neither the money nor werewithal to compete. So Champagne remains wrapped in a well-woven mystique.

It has been a pleasure, then, to road-test the newly launched ChampagneGuide.net, created by Peter Liem, a writer and senior correspondent for Wine & Spirits who moved to the Champagne village of Dizy in 2006 from the United States. (Liem is also a contributor to The Chronicle.)

Liem is one of the keenest Champagne tasters around. After nearly three years of filling notebooks, he has turned his collected wisdom into one of the most comprehensive efforts yet on the subject, writing with an informed on-the-ground perspective that's virtually unmatched.

Profiles of more than 100 houses are already available -- a mix of famous names like Krug and obscure gems like Ulysse Collin. Liem plans to add more regularly; Champagne has thousands of producers, so he has no shortage of source material, but as readers of his blog know, he has a precise radar for newsworthy and talented vignerons, regardless of size.

The profiles are perhaps the most detailed anywhere, expanding on works like Richard Juhlin's "4000 Champagnes" and Tom Stevenson's "Champagne." Liem elevates them above the usual frothy prose, as he offers a sense of each house's philosophy, style and methods of working. (Example: Larmandier-Bernier finds spraying with a helicopter beneficial for its biodynamic regimes.)

Tasting notes -- with about a half-dozen for each producer, there's already more than 600 -- are equally thoughtful, with Liem's precise palate extending well beyond the usual mix of fruit. The Gatinois Brut Rosé Grand Cru is "a vividly aromatic wine, showing brambly notes of crushed red fruit with the peculiar sense of concentrated berries typical of (the Champagne town of) Ay."

Added bonus: A Google mashup map locates each producer, providing a valuable geographic anchor often missing from discussion of Champagne.

At $89/year, it is priced for the connoisseur. I asked Liem about the pricing last week, and he said he wanted to price competitively but felt that amount was the least he could justify for his years of work. (At a time when it's fashionable to give away your collected wisdom online, that's a laudable stance.) He intends to expand to other formats including, potentially, the dead-tree sort.

Of course, the price is about two bottles worth of good Champagne. If you drink more than that in a year, Champagneguide.net should prove a valuable guide through a region where quality is often obscured by endless layers of marketing fizz.

More at Champagneguide.net. (See a sample profile here.)

Y mucho mas: If you haven't yet checked out the 30/30 project by Chronicle contributor Paul Clarke to commemorate the fourth anniversary of his Cocktail Chronicles site, do so. Like so many bloggers (say it, brother) Paul found his original momentum for writing about new cocktails had flagged. This is his revival effort (currently on No. 27) with everything from the Tchoupitoulas Street Guzzle to more au courant picks like the Wibble. The only thing better than a week of cocktails is a full month; 30/30 is like cocktail grad school on overdrive.

Posted By: Jon Bonné (Email, Twitter, Facebook) | May 14 2009 at 01:50 PM

Listed Under: Champagne, Cocktails, France, Sparkling Wine, Spirits, Web | Permalink | Comment count loading...

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