Hey there stranger…

So its been almost 2 months since my last post, and I’m still trying to figure out the impetus behind my apathy. But that’s not important.

Bartending in Boston is tough. The places you want to work never have jobs, and its even more embarassing when you cant get a job pouring beers at the neighborhood watering hole.

So, I faithfully toil on at my job outside the city, outside the last vestige of creativity (read: Cambridge), and attempt to peddle my wares and a bit of knowledge to the sleepy folks that occupy the surrounding suburbs. Luckily, I find enough interesting and interested people every night to keep me from falling into a creative coma.

Take the recent Red Sox World Series Victory. I created a cocktail that I named “Sangre de Vive”, but to ease the minds of our hesitant customers, we coined it “Sox over the Rocks”. The description of the drink wasn’t even neccessary, because hearing that name threw people into a cocktail-swilling frenzy. The 4 games of the World Series marked the first 4 nights that a daily special outsold our most popular cocktails. Ever. And while people may not have known what they were drinking, they LOVED it.

Usually, I’d rant and rave about people missing the forest for the trees, how they can’t appreciate the time and effort that goes into creating a mix of flavors that work together without muddying themselves, how they’re esentially buying into a short-lived craze. But I didn’t, and it felt good. Seeing the slips pop up one after the other, calling for the creation I’d thrown together not two hours before made me happy. And that was enough.

I’ve been out and about, and I’d love to tell you some more about that, but I think I just strained my brain putting all these words together into sentences and paragraphs.

si-yeh!

-tCP

“Sangre de Vive”, or Sox over the Rocks

1 oz Blood Orange Juce, strained.

1 oz Benedictine

1 oz Bombay Gin

1/4 oz Homemade Grenadine

1/4 oz Fresh Lime Juce

5 mint leaves

First hand-muddle the mint, being careful not to shred it, just to pound it. Add it, along with the other ingredients to a dry shaker tin. Add ice, and shake hard. Strain over fresh rocks in a pre-chilled double rocks glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

To my overseas buddy(ies)

Eggwhite or Eggyolk-based cocktails are beginning to flow more easily past the lips of the cocktailers in this town. However, that does not mean that everyone knows how to make them. So, here’s a quick recipe because an expat-friend of mine needs a little refresher course in the almighty Pisco Sour.

Quickly:

2 oz Pisco

1 oz Lemon Juice

1 oz Simple Syrup

1 Egg White

Shake the Egg White separately at first, for no less than 20 or 30 seconds. Add the rest of the ingredients and fill your shaker with ice. Shake HARD for about 75 seconds, and strain into a rocks or double rocks glass.

Garnish with a couple dashes of Angostura Bitters, and swirl to create a well-balanced top of the meringue.

Sorry to have been AWOL, but the stitches just came out of my finger, and typing is only now becoming easier. More posts to follow.

Everything’s Going Pear-Shaped

During this year’s CHOW’s Cocktail Square Off, that is. Report back here for developments on my as-now-secret cocktail concoction, which should fare incredibly well in the competition. They won’t know what hit them. But, they will know my name, blog address, and probably home address. So, maybe I should keep it civil.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Donovan

(he’s in the middle. and he’s not the hot chick)

August 22nd, 2007. A day that will live in infamy for the sole reason that Samuel Edwin Donovan popped into this world 23 years ago today. Now, Sam is a tall, gangly man, but that hasn’t swayed him from embracing his Irish heritage and engaging in a spirited (no pun intended) pursuit of all that is good and alcoholic.

As far as I know, his poison is Jack Daniels, but I am confident that with a little easy (read:threatened with tire-slashing or castration) persuasion, I can turn him into a real true-to-life cocktail enthusiast.

On September 1st, Sam, Glen Ryan, Vijay Kotecha, and myself are moving into a house in JP that I am sure will spawn some of the greatest inventions, cocktailian or not, since Einstein did that thing for which he is so famous.

But for today, we celebrate the birth of the gangly one, and so I give you the recipe for a classic cocktail just recently served at the Chartreuse Cocktail Fest put on by LUPEC at Green Street. I couldnt make it that night, but it was rumored to be the most fun most people had enjoyed with their clothes on. So, I give you the

Scoff-Law:

1oz Whiskey (jack, in sammys case)

1oz Noilly Prat Dry Vermouth

3/4oz lemon juice

3/4oz GREEN Chartreuse

2 dashes of your favorite Orange Bitters.

Thanks to Lauren at DrinkBoston for the recipe.

Shake and strain into a chilled glass.

Happy Birthday man.

Fresh, Seasonal Ingredients

Instead of repeating the title, I want you to read it again. Preparing food and spirit with the freshest that nature has to offer yields the best results. I omit a few key items, like truffles and fatty tuna flown in from Tokyo’s fish market. Otherwise, if it was grown around where you live, use it.

My latest creation, a efferfesent celebration of summer, utilizes Arlington Farmer’s Market blackberries and basil from my own garden.

The Montgomery Fizz, as the masses (read: John and I) have grown to call it, speaks to the palate on a number of levels, with the sweet-tartness of the blackberries setting the stage for the supporting basil and lemon juice to both balance and round out the otherwise simple flavors of the drink. Now, when I think basil, it usually accompanies a plate of vine ripe tomatoes and fresh buffalo mozzarella. In that case, the basil stands on its own, a delightfully spicy herb that complements the milky cheese and sweet tomatoes.

In this drink, however, it lays quietly in the back, only doing so much as to lend an extra layer of body and complexity- like a jazz bassist- when present, almost unnoticeable, but when removed, the entire ensemble falls apart.

The final component is the DRY (note: Dry) sparkling wine, which lends a tangy and smile-widening bubble to the whole thing, and allows the blackberries to showcase their tart as well as their sweet side. Plus, who doesnt like sparkling wine?

Video to follow.

-Alex

MxMO 18- The Lazy Monday

My first attempt at Mixology Monday, this week hosted over at the Intoxicated Zodiac, is as follows.
Prep:

Steep 3 large casually chopped fennel tops in 750ml of your favorite dry gin. No super-premium stuff with dozens of infusions of other flavors, because I want the fennel to stand out. Steep for 5-6 hours, then strain back into the bottle.

In a mixing glass, combine
2oz of the fennel gin,
3/4oz of Cointreau
1/2 oz fresh lime juice
1/4 oz simple syrup (1:1 recipe)
5 dashes Fee Brothers’ Orange Bitters

Add ice, shake, and strain into a chilled Coupe, or if none are available, 5 oz Cocktail glass.

Garnish with a slice of seedless Cucumber.

The name? Took me a while to figure it out, what with the cooling of the fennel, the sweetness of the Cointreau and the contrasting bitterness of the Mssrs. Fee.

So?

I christen it the “Lazy Monday”

Making of a Gin Flip

KO Prime and the Importance of Curiosity

KO Prime, Boston babychef Ken Oringer’s new brain child, seemed to me to be a place where the rich and famous would gather for their 90 dollar-a-filet steaks, but unlike at Smith and Wo’s, or even Ruth’s Chris, the socialites would gladly empty their wallets in the hopes of being accepted into “foodie” circles.

So I stayed away. I read their menus and cocktail offerings, and I salivated over the idea that two of the greatest in Boston, namely Jamie Bissonnette and Josh Buehler were the real generals of the kitchen at KO.

But then last night, curiosity got the better of me and I trekked over.

A note to myself- it is WAYY up tremont. I parked next to the 4 seasons and ended up almost passing out on the walk over. But enough about being out of shape.

The entrance is very chic, and leads to a dimly lit staircase that seems to spiral into the upper atmospheres of sense and taste. The bar/lounge hits you first, of which I totally approve, and its nice. Tall tables and chairs, low, leather couches and a sparingly but tastefully appointed bar looks like it might be almost as fun to work behind as to sit at.

Alyn (thats ay-linn) greets me with a mesmerizing smile, and asks what I want. I drop my benchmark “do you have eggs behind there?” question, and while she answers in the negative, she cheerfully explains that yes, this is a restaurant, so they must have some in the kitchen. Off she goes. When she returns, she explains that she doesnt actually know what to do with them, and I offer to walk her through one of the basic, but most crucial egg-white-based drinks, the Gin Flip.

MAN! She moves through the creation of this drink like she’d done it a million times before, taking instruction, but lending her own personal touch to it. When it finally rests in the glass, the meringue glistening and lightly colored with the bitters, I could detect the air of pride in her coy smile, knowing she’d pulled off a miracle.

In case you’re wondering, it was in the top 5 Flips I’ve ever had, and that includes my own and some mixed by gods and goddesses in this world.

I moved onto Jamie and Josh’s charcuterie plate, as it was getting late and the full menu was unavailable. Delicious, as I expected, but the description of each item left me tasting as hard as I could as to be able to decipher the combinations. So, Alyn- you’re cute, mix a great drink, but PAY ATTENTION in pre-meal. You’re selling the food. Cheers.

All in all, I’ll be going back, not for dinner, but for another lesson in mixology and possibly the KO burger.

I love this town.

for all your drink recipe questions and intrigue, visit www.cocktailDB.com and just browse.

Hot Dogs? Yes Please…

The new best-in-show ratings are out for our fair city, and to everyones amazement, but no one’s surprise, The Lower Depths (476 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, MA) won out with their grilled, buttery take on the Fenway Frank. Now, if someone can explain how grilling a normal Fenway Frank along with its bun can be surpassed, I’ll eat my hat. However, I’ll wash it down with one of the aforementioned Tap Room’s 106-or-so delicious beers.

Now, I’m gonna call a spade a spade. To me, even the most maligned Schaefer 40oz can be as mouth-tantalizingly good as a well-chilled Chimay Bleu Gran Reserve. While their prices may differ by orders of magnitude, there’s a time and a place for any kind of grain and hop-related beverage. Amen to Jim, Lindsday, Chris, Jen and Steve (if i left anyone out, lemme know) for keeping their place friendly, unpretentious, and a damn good time.

I’ll take this space to let everyone know that I’m 58 beers into their 106-beer “Mug List”, which, upon completion, allows me to a 32oz draft of whatever is on tap that day, but at bargain basement prices.

Killing my liver? Draining my wallet? Tightening my waistband? All perfectly affordable consequences in the pursuit of this most holy of mugs.

New to this blogging thing, but here goes nothing…

If you’re reading this- Welcome. My only goal is to put forth a somewhat coherent record of my all-too-busy brain’s thoughts and feelings about life, but more specifically, food and drink in my beloved Boston.

Sitting at the bar at the Franklin Cafe (278 Shawmut Ave, Boston) last night, I couldnt help feeling calm and quiet inside, no thanks to the pumping house-cum-breakbeat jams that were pulsating through the dark, almost dungeon-like space.

Karen, an attractive blonde woman, greeted me with a smile and an air of carefree whimsy, which I took as an invitation to lay my drinking fate in her hands. I only let on that I was a Bourbon drinker, and she returned with a wonderful take on a classic, and top favorite of mine, a Sidecar. However, the brandy was replaced with Makers Mark (I would have gone a little more top-shelf for the intricacy of flavor, but thats not what I asked, so I let it go), and once I asked her for the addition of 2 or 3 dashes of Fee Brothers Orange Bitters, I was perfectly content.

I am not a sweet cocktail guy AT ALL. Or, I should say, not anymore. Since my “transformation” 8 or 9 months ago, I’ve embarked on a quest to subject my tastebuds to all things savory, bitter, salty and otherwise not of the sucretous (made up, but you get the point) persuasion. However, this drink made me feel like a vegetarian after his/her first bite of roast suckling pig.

The subtlety and sweet/tangyness of the Cointreau contrasted beautifully with the pungent and aromatic orange bitters. The bourbon did its job of staying mostly out of the way, but as I said before, a more complex spirit would have lent a little more heat, which would have been most welcomed. The lemon juice, which i might add, was being poured out of giant 2-quart containers (do they REALLY squeeze that much fresh stuff everyday? I’m skeptical.) just took the edge off with a much-needed tang.

Karen- you did me a real mitzvah (i apologize….but I’m swedish, and our only word for something that approaches that would sound like a garbage disposal going off). Skol.

Thats it for now, I’m heading to work to satiate the bellys and tastebuds of the first unlucky souls braving the fallacy that is Restaurant Week in Boston. More on that later.