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keep your 40 – I’ll have an Earl Grey tea

Earl Grey shirt from Threadless, design by Richard Lee

Although it is known that the second Earl Grey, who served as Prime Minister from 1830-1834, gave permission for the production and sale to the Twinings tea company of the blend of black teas flavored with bergemot oil that bears his title, the actual inspiration for this blend seems to be lost to history. The practice of flavoring oolong teas with blossoms is a Chinese tradition. One that has used the blossoms of jasmine, osmanthus (cassia flower), rose, and other flowers to infuse tea leaves with a floral note.

These days, there are at least a hundred blends of tea sold under the description Earl Grey. At the website Tending Toward Tea, Julie gives tasting notes on 160 different brands. My personal favorite is Numi Aged Earl Grey, made with organically grown Assam tea leaves and Italian bergemot, and infused by aging, like a traditional Chinese blossom teas. Also it has a rich dark orange color when brewed.

But this is a blog about booze, I hear your fingers flex as you work up the nerve and wit to leave a belittling comment to that effect. (Continued)

A report on some new hardware

Chicago Ted basically shamed me into buying a flask. (This is the second major favor he’s done me. The first was a free pack of Chinese cigarettes.)

I bought this one, and a funnel to go with it.

Now I drink every day, but I drink especially on Thursdays. So last night, despite that my evening was projected to take place entirely within my apartment, I filled the flask with Jack Daniel’s (don’t hurt me Ted, seriously – I’m a yankee and I don’t know no better). I then repaired to my stoop to draw pictures of my feet until I got too depressed and had to stop.

I drank happily from the flask, chasing it with Sapporo from a tall, sexy can. This liquor concealment was completely unnecessary, as my neighbors watch me drink daily, but I wanted to, you know, try it out.

Once I got too depressed with drawing my feet and had to stop, I pocketed the flask and went inside. And in my pocket the flask stayed, for several hours, as I completely forgot about it.

Around 10:30 my phone rang, and, impulsively, I headed to the East River for the conversation. I live in Queens, steps from the river, where the view of Manhattan is a romantic comedy waiting to happen.

On my way I passed three officers of the NYPD, anxiously conducting some kind of investigation. It involved their arguing over a map. I walked thirty feet up the sidewalk and settled against the railing, smoking and still on the phone. “Having a drink would be really great right about now,” I thought, as I turned to sit, and felt the flask in my pocket.

There was movement from the cops; I looked and they were staring past me, trying to make out some feature in the far distance. The flask’s true test had come.

I reached into my pocket and felt for the captive top. It was loosed with a quick spin. Staring down the police, I raised the flask and drank, wiped my mouth with the vessel still in hand, and replaced it in my pocket.

The cops turned back to their map.

Postscript: I’ve decided to name my new ninja hardware. I’m going to name it “Fuck The Pigs 666 Hail Satan.”

RIP Michael Jackson

…the beer guy, not the pederast, has gone to that great lauter-tun in the sky.

He passed away in his London home last night, 2007-August-29. Aside from his voluminous works on beer, in fact he could single-handedly be responsible for getting beer into the mainstream press, he traveled extensively and suffered from Parkinson’s for the last ten years.

The last article he published,  Did I Cheat Mort Subite, seems awfully chilling now.

The world is worse off without you, Michael. The North American Booze Council salutes you, sir.

First Taste: Tanqueray Rangpur Gin

Gin seems to have taken a back seat to vodka in recent times. One needs only visit their local package store to see this. The vodka section takes up the whole aisle: vodkas infused with every conceivable berry, fruit, or spice; unheard-of brands in bizarrely shaped bottles, trying in vain to jump on the “premium” bandwagon started by the Grey Goose; twelve flavors of Absolut, thirteen Stolis, and as many as seventeen Smirnoffs.

And then there’s the gin corner, full of stodgy stalwarts like Beefeater… Gordon’s… Tanqueray… and Bombay Sapphire in the plastic bottle. The message is clear: vodka is the spirit of the young and the restless. Gin is what hobos buy and people make in their bathtub.

Perhaps because of this, Tanqueray has recently introduced Rangpur, its first attempt at a flavored gin. It’s not infused like most vodkas are, the Rangpur limes are distilled into the spirit. It has a lower alcohol content than traditional Tanqueray, perhaps part of the distillation process or perhaps to help it sell — the company doesn’t seem to have a launched a major campaign for it. In fact, it’s not even mentioned on the Tanqueray website.

Obviously, the important question is… how does it taste? Unfortunately, I do not have the discerning palate that Ouroboros does, so you will have to bear with me as I describe it. Perhaps the best way is to compare Rangpur to their signature London Dry Gin.

Let’s face it: most gin smells a little bit closer to a pine tree air freshener than we’d like to admit, and Tanqueray is no exception. It has a sharp but warm and inviting flavor, and fairly clean aftertaste. There are hints of other botanicals, but the juniper does dominate the spirit. Tanqueray is 94.6 proof, making it noticeably stronger than the 80 proof that many alcohols have standardized on.

Now for the Rangpur. The scent is nowhere near as harsh; it’s as though the gin put on some citrus deodorant to mask that evergreen smell. It’s 82.6 proof (a 6% difference in ABV, for you math majors), which probably contributes a bit to that subdued fragrance. That difference also makes it a bit smoother to drink. Still warm and inviting, it’s less harsh, and finishes with a lime aftertaste that lingers for just a while.

Tanqueray Rangpur is priced slightly higher in comparison to the London Dry, and the decrease in alcohol adversely affects its Bodine Value. I’m not sure I care. Though I’ve been drinking it straight, it feels like it might make a better gin and tonic than the London. At the very least, it’s worth a shot if you’re a fan of gin. And if you’re not a fan of gin…. hmm… well?

A very long paragraph describing the only bone I’ve ever broken while drunk

This is from a draft of a novel I’m writing. At this point in the story, the perspective has switched to third-person from first-, and the narrator is now a plastic action figure. Really.

It’s a true story. Please don’t think I’m a hack because this one paragraph is so long. The book has many other paragraphs that are much shorter.  Plus, there are many more compelling reasons why I am a hack.

(Continued)

the Greater Northwest American Distillers’ Festival

This weekend I (and Misuba and Xen) attended the Great American Distillery Festival at the Armory Theater in Portland. This was an event co-sponsored by Rogue Spirits and Imbibe Magazine. Someday they’ll grow into the name, but in this, their fourth year, the majority of distilleries that attended were from the Northwest region. That said, tables were extremely approachable, and it was easy to open conversation with pourers and other attendees.

We chatted a little with Phil from Lamb Martini, “an unholy marriage of food and drink”. A really nice guy, who prepared a cheatsheet on all of the offerings, with pricings. I’m sure he is planning a blogpost on the event, so I won’t crib from his homework [much]. [UPDATE: here is a link to Phil’s blogpost on the GADF]

Tasting notes follow, after the jump. (Continued)

The Bodine Value and You

Imagine a familiar scenario. It is 3:30 on a Saturday morning and you don’t really know where you are. The last clear memory you have is thinking that the hot blonde you’d been flirting with was really into your shit before suddenly realizing you’d actually been talking to a potted house plant for 40 minutes. At some point in the evening you’d been engaged in a melee, possibly with the same house plant. You’re standing in a bath tub, but it appears to be located in an alley, not a bathroom. Through the haze of inebriation you remember that bathtubs belong in bathrooms, not alleys. You throw up in it anyway.

Stepping gingerly over a hobo you emerge from the alley to discover that you still don’t really know where you are. You may not even be in the same city anymore. What you do know is that things and stuff are getting clearer and more acute. This is a sure sign that you are sobering up, and may become dangerously lucid any moment.

Rifling through your pockets you discover an empty cigarette pack, three tickets to see the Bangles dated October 2005, two drivers licenses from different states with different names, and $6.78 in wadded bills and loose change. You think you can get back to deliciously numb drunk with that much money, but you’re not sure.

What you need is the Bodine Value. Named after that esteemed pioneer of the industry, Jethro Bodine, the Bodine Value is an easy way to scientifically determine the usefulness of a given alcoholic beverage by leveraging the powerful forces of Math. The Bodine Value is equivalent to 1ml of alcohol per dollar and can be simply calculated using the following formula; (vol * %) / cost. Note that the formula uses the percentage of alcohol by volume, not the proof, don’t confuse the two. In the US, the proof number is twice the alcohol content by volume at a temperature of 60 degrees Fahrenheit. US Federal Regulations (CFR 27 5.37) requires labels to state the percentage of of alcohol by volume so it should be easy to determine, unless you’re already really messed. If you can’t find the ABV value on the label though, simply reduce the proof number in half and move the decimal point two places to the left. 80 proof is therefore .40 ABV.

For example, a 750ml bottle of 80 proof alcohol that costs $15 yields 20 BV. (750 * .40) / 15.00 = 20. Lengthy research has revealed that Bodine Values can vary tremendously and often times present choices that would otherwise be, undesirable. High ABV content liquor, for instance Bookers Bourbon, would seem to offer a high Bodine Value, but given it’s relatively high cost per bottle we find that the adverse is true. The market price for Bookers is around $60 a bottle rendering an average BV of around 7.5, which as you can clearly see is almost effete. Our example rendered a BV of 20, which is a very acceptable Bodine Value and in most instances will serve the contemporary drunk well, if you have $15.

You’ll note that our hero the imaginary drunk, you, only has $6.78. (Don’t look at me like that, you know you’ve accidentally flirted with a house plant before. I’d bet more than one of you has accidentally slept with a ficus.) In most markets, $5 will get you a 750ml bottle of Thunderbird. At 18% ABV that yields a very respectable 27 BV. That’s the kind of math that will get you through the night.

Unfortunately, you may have already realized the single caveat of the Bodine Value, those beverages with the highest potential value, are almost always the least desirable from a perspective of flavor and not going blind. The Bodine Value is not a hard and fast rule, but a guideline that serves the drinker with a mission that has to live on a limited budget.

It should be noted, that all free booze has an infinite BV, and is therefore the most desirable.

quick shots

I’m back home after a whirlwind trip through California. During the weekend I had the chance to sample a number of noteworthy beverages. Here are some quick summaries.

a jeraboam of Smith & Hook 1979 Cabernet Sauvignon At a family party we drank a jeraboam (5L bottle) of 1979 Smith & Hook Cabernet Sauvignon (Santa Lucia Highlands, Monterey County, California). It was rather amazing. I mean, of course it has lost the brambly notes that I remember from the last time Dear Old Dad brought a bottle out, but it must have been 15 years ago that I last tasted it, and it is still a large cabernet with good structure. It may well be in the “drink it if you’ve got it” category. But I know there are more in the Dad’s cellar. I avoided food saturday night in order to help Dad finish the bottle.

potent potables For a late night treat, I brought a bottle of Nocino della Cristina from Monteverdi Spirits and we had drams of this thick sweet (green)walnut liqueur. The producer describes it as divestivo but I find it so sweet that it is more of a nightcap, perhaps a seduction device. And it would be incredible in steamed milk. All of us who tasted it found it almost syrup-sweet.

For my former housemate Aaron’s birthday, I brought him a bottle of Eau de Vie of Douglas Fir from Clear Creek Distillery (Steve McCarthy) I’ve been a champion of this white spirit flavored by infusing dougles fir buds since I tasted it in 2004. It is a perfect digestif: incredible aroma that cuts through the postprandial drowsies and slightly fiery with alcohol, precisely what is needed to fuel the fourth round of a full evening’s discussion.

Aaron and Kami have been growing a dwarf citrus tree, the Rangpur Lime. It is an incredibly sour and tart, surprisingly orange, thick-skinned citrus fruit. It is an amazing lime. I want a tree, if it will produce in Portland. If you ever see these mandarin limes, lemandarin, nasaran, sour tangerines, listed, obtain some for gin and tonics.

Aaron has taken up brewing again. This time his interest is in belgians and flemish and older styles. He had a soured porter that was in its second bottling (the bottle fermentation was uneven and too sour, so he blended half the batch and re-bottled). We tried it sunday night. I found it amazing (Aaron thinks that the blending worked and it had also mellowed a bit); I want to taste this style again. Does anyone have suggestions of commercially available examples?

On my agenda for the next two weeks is a comparison of maraschino liqueurs, a couple of endorsements of liquor stores, and the formulation of a couple of drinks we’ve been subjecting to bibation analysis here at the Prince of Cups.

On Mojitos, and the Men That Make Them

The Mojito.

First, let’s get this as clear as a cocktail: if you are of the opinion that Mojitos are meant to cost $14 and come with a black straw, you are a victim of small thinking. If you believe rum drinks are for girls in Ugg boots, I’d like to remind you that pirates do not wear Ugg boots.

Furthermore, I’d like to remind you that the Mojito was Hemingway’s favorite cocktail, and that man ended up BLOWING HIS OWN DAMN FACE OFF.

Here’s the Princeton Review SAT Prep version of what I am saying:

Courtney Love & Heroin : Kurt Cobain’s face :: Mojitos : Hemingway’s face.

That said, I make the best Mojito ever conceived. Sadly you do not know me personally, because I would be happy to make one for you. Also I’m quite the conversationalist so I’m sure you’d enjoy my company. Quite a shame for you.

(Continued)

For the sports-themed drinker on the go with more money than sense

It’s like an energy gel, but for drunks – the Pocket Shot. Not only is it not price effective – only 10 Bodines – but it’s disposable. No word yet on if the bags are recyclable.

I can’t see any particular use where this would be better/nicer than a flask. In fact, if you poured bottom shelf plastic jug tequila in a sammich bag, you’d get about the same effect. Now pound that back at a $60-per-ticket-plus-$20-in-ticketbastard-fees Hot-Topic-teen-“punk-means-wristbands-and-eyeliner” concert until Mommy can come pick you up in her BMW X5 and you’re dead in their marketing sights.

In the Booze Council’s opinion, this thing sucks. Pounding back a pocket shot means you’re an underage, sleazy alcoholic with too much money. Taking a nip off your flask is classy, tasteful and refined. Not to mention it’s cheaper, allows you to put in whatever top shelf whiskey you please, more environmentally friendly but has a certain je ne sais quoi that exudes charm and dignity.

The pocket shot – yet another flashing banner ad in the myspazz world of drinking trends, a world that should be overstuffed recliners in an oak-paneled library with a greyhound peacefully snoozing next to a roaring fireplace. Buck these awful new trends. Raise your flasks, America, and ignore these terrible new ideas.