From the October 25, 1937, issue of Life magazine.
A weblog detailing cocktails, spirits, liqueurs, barware, bars, and bitters. Maintained by Michael Dietsch, a writer and hobbyist mixer in Brooklyn.
Repeal Day came and went this year, with nary a comment from me. What can I say? Bad blogger. Today, though, I want to revisit a cocktail I first explored four years ago, for Repeal Day 2006: the Thistle. The Thistle is a simple cocktail; my version came from Robert Vermeire’s Cocktails: How to Mix Them, and it calls for 2 parts Scotch, 1 part Italian vermouth, and 2 dashes of Angostura bitters.
Wait a minute. Scotch, sweet vermouth, and bitters? Yes, you’re going to say the same thing someone else said in 2006, and that Erik “The Obscurist” Ellestad noted earlier this year: that’s a Rob Roy. Okay, it’s a Rob Roy. It’s a Thistle. It’s a York. You can call it a peppermint patty for all I care, it’s a fine damn drink.
I don’t know how to admit this to you, dear readers, but I actually prefer a sweet Thistleroy to a sweet Manhattan. Even made with rye, a sweet Manhattan simply tastes too sweet to me. For it to be truly tasty, I have to make the perfect variation on it: 2 oz. rye, 1/2 oz. sweet vermouth, and 1/2 dry vermouth. Scotch, though (even a blended variety), brings enough smokey character to the cocktail to rise up and tame the sweet vermouth.
Four years ago, I used Dewars for the scotch, and Cinzano for the vermouth. This time, I went a different route, and came up with something my wife and I loved. First, I wanted to play with a single malt in this instead of a blend. I used Knockdhu Distillery’s An Cnoc 12, a well-balanced and relatively inexpensive Highlands whisky.
For the vermouth, I chose a product that wasn’t even available to me (or anyone in the United States) in 2006: the French Dolin Rouge. I’m really starting to shun the available-everywhere products like M&R or Cinzano, in favor of more bitter and herbal vermouths such as Dolin or Carpano Antica, the latter of which I have to schlep from Boston. I found that the Dolin’s bittersweet herbaceous qualities married well with the An Cnoc.
Finally, I rounded the drink out with Jerry Thomas Decanter Bitters from the Bitter Truth. I remembered, too late, that I had drained the Angostura the previous evening. But it’s okay, because I like the Christmas-spiciness of the Jerry Thomas.
In all, the Yorkeroy is a great drink that deserves a regular spot in my drinks rotation, and it’s proven itself as open to experimentation as a horny college student. I’ll have another.
(If you’re joining me from Serious Eats, welcome aboard. Look around, kick the tires, poke the cats, and pour yourself a stiff one.)
A while back, I highlighted an advertisement by Johnnie Walker, in which the striding man attended the gala coronation of Britain’s George VI. I made a note of the fact that I had scoured Google Books to see whether JW had run similar ads afterward, and couldn’t find any. Well, look here:
This ad, from New York magazine’s issue of January 10, 1977, says, “In America, anyone can grow up to deserve Johnnie Walker Black Label.” The timing? The January 20, 1977, inauguration of Jimmy Carter as the 39th president of the United States. Now to hunt for similar ads for other inaugurations.
Oops, managed to miss a week. Been so busy helping prep Cook and Brown for opening that I forgot to upload a new ad post last week. Onward. This next ad comes courtesy the May 24, 1937, issue of Life magazine, and it’s a nod toward the history of the Johnnie Walker brand.
As the ad states, old John is celebrating his sixth coronation of a British monarch, in this case George VI. George never expected to take the throne; he only assumed power after his older brother Edward VIII abdicated to marry Wallis Simpson. George was succeeded in turn by his daughter, Lizzy Deuce. John Walker started blending scotches in 1820, so the list of regents that his avatar would have seen crowned are George IV (crowned in 1821), William IV (1831), Victoria (1938), Edward VII (1902), George V (1911), Edward VIII (who doesn’t actually count in this list, since he abdicated before his coronation), George VI (1937), and Elizabeth II (1953).
I know what you’re going to ask at this point. Did JW run a similar ad in 1953? I dunno. I looked through all the magazines on Google Books and couldn’t find one, to my disappointment. Hey Johnnie! You can have this one for free. Lizzy ain’t gonna hold out forever, just sayin’. We know you love your history!
With C&B ramping up to opening in early March, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to do a write-up on these ads every week. So temporarily, I’m reverting back to the previous model, where I run an ad or two a week sans commentary. This allows me to schedule several weeks worth of ads out in advance and not worry about them. Sorry, chums.
With Thanksgiving approaching, it’s time to plan for festive cocktailing! Mrs. Bitters has already started prepping our locavore Thanksgiving (there’s a story behind it being locavore, but you’ll have to wait for it), so now’s the time for me to plan my approach. I haven’t quite figured it all out yet. I know I want to get some Calvados and make a batch of sage simple syrup, so that I can mix up the Apple Sage Old Fashioned I created for the autumn issue of Edible Rhody (still on the stands, so if you’re local, grab a copy–it’s the one with the cranberry bog on front).
For my second drink, I’m still working my brain on it. In Friday’s edition of the Wall Street Journal, Malt Adovocate editor John Hansell edited a small advertising supplement on whiskeys. Included was a piece on cocktails by Gary Regan, or gaz regan as he apparently prefers to be called these days. Old gaz included four cocktails in the piece, one of which I think I’ll adapt for Thanksgiving. Here’s the gaz version:
- 1-1/2 oz. scotch
- 3/4 oz. B&B liqueur
- 1/4 oz. absinthe
- 1 lemon twist, for garnish
Stir over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Add garnish.
As gaz discusses in his piece, scotch marries well with anise flavors, and we definitely found that to be the case here.
Earlier this year, I picked up a bunch of anise hyssop from a local herbalist. Back then, I used it in a variation of the New Orleans classic cocktail, the Vieux Carre. On Saturday, when we were at the market, we stopped by the Farmacy table to pick up some local honey for Thanksgiving baking. They happened to have as well some small jars of honey infused with the anise hyssop. I immediately started thinking about cocktail applications and eagerly bought a jar. I might do a variation on the Babbling Brook. Or, I might do a scotch Sazerac instead, with a syrup made from the hyssop honey. I don’t think I’ll go wrong either way.
How about you? What Thanksgiving-themed drinks are you planning to mix this year? Do you have special Thanksgiving snacks that pair well with cocktails? Sound off in the comments!
At 3pm Eastern today, I’ll be in sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by bottles of scotch. How is this any different than a normal 3pm in Chez Dietsch? Today, I have an excuse. Johnnie Walker’s black-label blend turns 100 years old this year, and to celebrate, Johnnie’s jetting his master blender, Andrew Ford, over to New York City, to lead a webcast focusing on the blending process.
I received an invitation to the webcast a couple of weeks ago, and shortly after I accepted, the FedEx man brought me a large box of kit.
Inside the box, I found seven sample bottles of single malt and grain whiskies, a small bottle of Johnnie Walker Black, a nosing glass, a measuring beaker, a funnel, and an empty bottle.
Andrew Ford will be walking us through the process of blending scotch whiskies. He’ll also be taking questions, so if there’s anything you want to know, leave a comment here, and I’ll try to pass it along.
One question I have is why the grain whiskey appears to have been barrel-aged. I’m also curious about the number of whiskies they sent–one grain whiskey plus six bottles from various regions of Scotland (or in the case of the sherry-cask whiskey, a type of finishing method). Black Label is blended from at least 40 different whiskies. I know that Walker couldn’t possibly have sent 40 bottles without breaking their bank. Even this shipment wasn’t cheap, I’d wager. Now, what I don’t know is whether each of those bottles is actually a single malt, or if each bottle has a blend of several malts–say, several malts from the Islay region–to approximate the 40 whiskies that comprise Black.
A few weeks ago, I received a review bottle of a product that’s been reintroduced to the American market (albeit in a reformulated recipe)–Canton Ginger Liqueur. I love ginger in all sorts of forms: I love the slices you get to clear your palate between bites of sushi; I love ginger beers and ales; and I love ginger as an ingredient in food and cocktails. So I was excited to accept an offer of Canton.
As soon as I got it home, I opened it and poured a dram into a small snifter. Both Paul and Jamie have already written about their bottles, and I find no fault with their tasting notes on the straight liqueur–ginger and honey with a note of vanilla.
Alone, it’s a really pleasant quaff, delightful as an after-dinner sipper. But the big question is, how does it mix? Gotta say, I’m still workin’ on that. The first thing I did was to follow Jamie’s suggestion and mix up a Debonair, using Oban for the scotch. Wow. That Gary Regan knows his shit; the Debonair is a great drink, both smoky and gingery.
Then I started experimenting to create something new. And at this point, I made some dumb mistakes. I won’t say what they were, but if you knew, you’d say, “WTF were you thinking?! Have moths eaten your brain?” Let it suffice to say that it’s pretty easy to bury the Canton’s flavor if it’s up against aggressive ingredients.
Finally, I hit upon a winner, a simple, if somewhat obvious, blend of cognac, Canton, vermouth, and lime.
- 2 oz. cognac
- 1 oz. lime juice
- 3/4 oz. Canton
- 1/2 oz. dry vermouth
Technique: Shake over ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.
I’m curious to try a variation of that with rye.
Don’t talk about it much here, since this ain’t the right venue, but another of my favorite hobbies is grilling and barbecuing. You can imagine, then, how happy I was to see these.
The scotch-barrel chips are unavailable here, but the Jack Daniels chips should do just as well. I’ll have to order some soon. I’ve been meaning to smoke a shoulder for pulled pork anyway.
A MAN named after his father’s favourite whisky has travelled 4,000 miles to see the distillery that makes it.
The American, Nicholas Glenfiddich Lahren, thought to be the only person christened Glenfiddich, made a pilgrimage to the Speyside distillery where the single malt is made.
Hmmmm… How does Sazerac Dietsch sound?
If you read any cocktail blogs other than this one (and, by God, you really should), you already know this is Repeal Day, the seventy-third anniversary of the repeal of Prohibition.
To celebrate, I dove into a vintage cocktail book, Robert Vermeire’s Cocktails: How to Mix Them, which first appeared in print in Great Britain in 1922, when the untied states were in the middle of their crazy delusion called Prohibition. I thought it would be fun to find a recipe that was current during that period.
Because Dewar’s has had so much fun marketing its blended scotch to Repeal Day celebrants, I thought it would be fun to drink the Kool-Aid, so to speak, and have some Dewar’s.
So I looked through Vermeire for a new scotch cocktail and found the Thistle (pictured above). Vermeire calls for 1/6 gill of Italian vermouth, 2/6 gills of scotch, and 2 dashes of Angostura bitters. Although I normally translate his gills into the exact number of ounces (1 gill is 4 oz., so 1/6 gill is approx. 3/4 oz.), in this case, I simply used 1 part vermouth to 2 parts scotch, plus the bitters.
So, my recipe:
- 2 oz. Dewar’s White Label scotch
- 1 oz. Cinzano Italian vermouth
- 2 dashes Angostura bitters
- Lemon twist, for garnish
Technique: Fill a metal shaker with ice. Pour scotch, vermouth, and bitters over ice. Stir until shaker frosts over. Strain into chilled cocktail glasses. Add garnish.