Wednesday, September 9, 2009

J.W. Lee's Harvest Ale (Lagavulin Casks)

Well it was a bit of a cold and dreary morning, so I thought I would have something good for breakfast. Didn't really feel like cooking, how about J.W. Lee's Harvest Ale aged in Lagavulin Casks? If you're not familiar, Lagavulin 16 is one of the quintessential Islay single malt scotches - smokey, sweet, complex. I tasted this beer at Brouwer's in Seattle and was very happy to find it at John's Marketplace here in Portland. If you haven't been to John's Marketplace, you should. Hands down the biggest beer selection in Portland and an extensive wine selection was well.

Why yes, that does mean I was sitting in my front yard drinking a English style barleywine at 8 in the morning. Kids walked by excited for their first few days of school, but little did they know about the tasty ale I was about to swill.

This 2005 beer pours a cloudy amber with pinkish highlights when held up to the light. Lots of suspended yeast floating about. No foam, but the beer sticks to the glass like a full bodied chardonnay. An extremely sweet, malty nose, mainly molasses and honey. The flavor is similar, sweet, almost buttery, warming alcohol (at 11.5% ABV) and finally notes of wood and peat smoke on the finish.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Euphoric Drunk: Dutch Kills, Milk & Honey

The last day of the conference wrapped up around noon and I had one thing on my mind, and that was getting to Dutch Kills and Milk & Honey, two bars held in the highest regards in the cocktail world. I was staying at the Brooklyn Bridge Marriot, so the subway to Queens would be a little bit of a ride. Since I would be passing by Union Square, I thought I would follow through with a promise to myself and sit down for a meal at Union Square Café. A good half pound bacon cheeseburger on a poppyseed bun, fries, three oysters on the half shell – Raspberry Point, Pebble Cove, Hood Canal, a beer, and a coffee. This meal would be the last solids consumed for the rest of the day.

30 minutes on the subway later I found myself in Queens for the first time. Big, a little deserted, and industrial, with a few tall office towers on the horizon, this was quite a different scene from both Manhattan and Brooklyn. Once again I found myself lost in New York looking for an incredible bar I had heard about, only to realize I had walked right by it. At 27-24 Jackson Ave there is a non-descript brick building with a metal door and small lit BAR sign. Inside, there is a row of dimly lit booths on a pathway to the bar. Behind the bar there is a big block of ice with a knife in it. I warmed up with a refreshing Prescription Julep, a classic with rye and cognac, and a cognac French 75. Then I asked bartender Giuseppe Gonzales for something I could only get at Dutch Kills and I was brought a delicious original cocktail with tequila, lime, house orgeat, fresh ground nutmeg and big ice. I was about to leave, but was convinced by a new friend, writer Robert Haynes-Peterson, to have one more round, a Pisco Sour variation with a little Angostura art on the foam. Ah…

Dusk now, I hopped on the subway back to Manhattan to look for Milk & Honey in East Village. I really thought I would have figured out the New York speakeasy/hidden bar thing, but Milk & Honey is just about as hidden as it gets. Actually a private club now based in London, Milk & Honey’s New York clientele is only members and by invitation. I wanted to get a few drinks from Sam Ross, the world-class bartender I had met last year at Little Branch. I will refrain from disclosing excessive details about my experience out of respect for the establishment, but also not to ruin the mystique of Milk & Honey if you ever find yourself there. I will say that I found it, the door is somewhere in this photo, waited a good two hours, and got a seat at the bar where Sam made me three fantastic cocktails: 1) Bourbon, Aperol, lemon, Amaro Nonino 2) Gin, Carpano Antica, Bonded Applejack, Chartreuse 3) Bermuda rum, coffee liqueur, egg, cream, nutmeg. Milk & Honey has no cocktail menu, so if you do find yourself there, have a favorite spirit or flavor profile in mind. Yeah, this night couldn’t have gone any better.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

A Little East Village Crawl

Thursday night I was back in East Village, familiar to me from my last visit. There was a new addition, however, to the elite cocktail establishments previously comprising of PDT and Death & Company: Mayahuel Mexican Restaurant at 304 E. 6th Street. But first I returned to Death & Company to show a couple friends and of course, indulge in some mixed drinks. A new flavor experience for me, the North by Northwest with champagne, Aviation Gin, fresh lemon juice, and St. George Absinthe, was outstanding; for a moment making classic champagne cocktails like the French 75 seem, bland.

At Mayahuel I found a couple familiar faces. Katie, from Clover Club, was behind the bar along with Phil Ward, former barman from Death & Company whom I had become acquainted with a year prior via three delicious whiskey cocktails. Mr. Ward is now behind the bar program at Mayahuel which is highlighted by some of the finest spirits from Mexico, that is, tequila and mezcal galore. I will defer to Dale Degroff, founder of the Museum of the American Cocktail to define mezcal (or mescal, if you prefer): The general category of which tequila is a subcategory, mescal is made primarily in Oaxaca, Mexico and has a smoky quality from the slow baking of the agave pina in clay ovens over hot rocks. In my experience, I have seen one premium mezcal in the Northwest and that is by Del Maguey, which you can find at Uptown Liquor on NW 24th and Burnside. My first order was a mezcal old-fashioned, inspired by a Jeff Morgenthaler tweet during his last visit. I deferred any specifics on the cocktail to the bartender and was not disappointed. The flavor was rich, bright and smoky, less sweet and heavy, if you will, than a bourbon old-fashioned. If you want to taste of this in Portland, Mr. Shoemaker at the Teardrop Lounge can help you – although it’ll cost $16. My second and final cocktail of the night (the rest would be Pabst and shots of well tequila) was the bartender’s choice using mezcal. I was served a nice bittersweet cocktail, still with the characteristic mezcal smokiness – most likely a little Campari or Aperol in this one.

A little more casual and a little less exclusive, Mayahuel may be a little easier to get into than PDT or Death & Company, if you’re prowling this neighborhood. Next time, how about a tequila/mezcal flight?

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Clover Club, Brooklyn

I found myself back in New York City for another conference about a week ago, just short of one year since my first visit. In 2008 I managed to patronize PDT (Please Don’t Tell), Death & Co., Little Branch, Flatiron Lounge, and the Pegu Club in 48 hours. With fond memories of that tipsy and surreal bar crawl, I wanted to continue where I left off. Armed with a list of target establishments compiled from consultations with friends and cocktail enthusiasts, I took a walk from my hotel to the Clover Club in Brooklyn where I had been told the classic cocktails were among the best in the business. With this in mind, I guzzled down (while savoring every sip, of course) a Martinez, Hemingway Daquiri, and Remember the Alamo.

The Martinez (a predecessor to what most of us know as a Martini containing gin, sweet vermouth, maraschino and Boker’s bitters) was icy cold with an extra ounce and half served on the side on ice in a small carafe. The Hemingway Daquiri (gin, lime, maraschino, grapefruit), the best I’ve ever had. When I asked the talented bartender, Katie, what the secret was, she suggested perhaps that citrus just tasted better on the east coast – in this case, I’d have to agree. The Remember the Alamo (tequila, Dubonnet, Cherry Heering and orange bitters), a tasty tequila variation on the classic Remember the Maine cocktail. The Clover Club interior is cozy but sophisticated with candlelight and classic interior design, dark wood, tin ceilings and brick walls. Definitely a must-drink in NYC. If you need additional proof of this, check out their full menu on their website.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Moqueca e Caipirinha: Salvador, Brazil

This past December I had the incredible opportunity to experience my first international travel and visit Brazil.

I was aware that Brazil was a huge country from seeing it on maps, but the diversity of people and culture became very clear as I traveled from city to city. My adventure began in the Northeastern city of Salvador. Located in the state of Bahia, Salvador was Brazil's first capital and is known for its Bahian cuisine, baroque architecture, and music. To begin to understand the culture of Salvador, it's helpful to know that over 80% of the metropolitan population has some Black African ancestry. I have never been to Africa, but being surrounded by the people, sites, and sounds of Salvador, I imagined that this was what certain parts of Africa might be like.

I spent my time in the historic center of Salvador known as Pelourinho (pelo-reen-yo). Cobblestone streets, churches, street vendors, practitioners of Capoeira - an Afro-Brazilian non-contact martial art/dance, historic buildings - some restored, others falling apart, and did I mention churches? Travel-worn, I took the recommendation of the hostel owner and sat down at a restaurant called Restaurante encontro dos Artistas for some nourishment. More importantly, my first Caipirinha in Brazil. Simply put, there was lots of lime, lots of sugar, and lots of cachaca - the Brazilian spirit distilled from sugar cane. Served on the rocks with a little straw, the drink hit the spot.

This was my first experience with Brazilian cuisine, more specifically, Bahian. I went with the first entrée on the menu, Moqueca, a seafood stew flavored with onions, garlic, tomato, cilantro, chili pepper and more. The Bahian version is characterized by the addition of palm oil and coconut milk. Offered with various seafood combinations, I went with camarão y peixe, or shrimp and fish. Served with rice and a side of farofa (a simple dish of toasted maize flour or farina), this savory and zesty stew was a delicious meal that I highly recommend.

At night, the streets of Pelourinho were about people, cold beer, and music. The drums of a bateria (a percussion band of a Samba school) resounded through the town, a solo musician played Brazilian classics like Garota de Ipanema on his guitar, and I sat down with an ice cold macrobrew lager, Skol, a very popular Brazilian brand owned by InBev.

A few other adventures in Salvador included Forte de São Marcelo, Mercado Modelo, a Capoeira practitioner simultaneously asking for donations and hitting on my girlfriend (who speaks Portuguese, I do not), being rather insulting and persistent I might add. It did cross my mind to return the favor and demonstrate some contact martial arts and put him on his back with a double-leg and drop an elbow to his forehead.

If you find yourself visiting Salvador, I would recommend seeing the churches, seeking out the best Bahian cuisine, escaping vendors and pan handlers and getting to the beach if you can, which I failed to do. On to Recife...

Monday, February 23, 2009

NYC: The Last Day pt. 2

Wrapping up at Prune, I got a text message from a friend saying that I must check out Tavern on the Green. Overlooking Central Park and not far from John Lennon's Strawberry Field's Memorial, Tavern on the Green has gone through several renovations since it's reincarnation in 1976 when it became the place to see and be seen in Manhattan.

I don't know if it was all the good food and drink or what, but I was feeling quite bold and decided it was a good idea to catch the subway to the edge of Central Park, laptop bag in hand, and run around like an idiot tourist looking for the Tavern. I ended up jogging around Central Park in the dark and successfully disorienting myself, resulting in me having to walk around half the damn block when I came out on the other side.

Finally arriving at the Tavern, it appeared that there was some kind of private event going on. To this day I'm still confused as to what exactly the function was. Anyway, it was still open to the public and there was a $10 cover, which I decided to pay, even if it was just to peek inside. The festivities were taking place on a sprawling outdoor patio with lanterns dangling from the natural canopy of a large tree. Live or recorded music? I couldn't tell. There was music, lots of people, and a bar. I bought a plastic cup of cabernet and explored the venue. Inside what appeared to be a banquet room there was dancing and a DJ, and hallways to other rooms full of mirrors, etched glass, brass, and other sparklies. Now, looking at their website, I get it. The Tavern has rooms for all kinds of events: The Crystal Room, The Crystal Pavilion, The Rafters Room, The Chestnut Room, The Terrace Pavilion, The Park Garden, and more. I had done what I came to do, and it was time go. I'd like to see Tavern on the Green again, maybe for, lunch!

Not wanting to test my luck in Central Park again, I hopped in a taxi and headed to the corner of 7th Avenue and Leroy Street to look for one of the last must-sees on my list, Little Branch. Arriving at my destination I was a little confused finding only a suspicious, unmarked brown door. But, now being a veteran of New York hidden bars and speakeasies, I entered without much hesitation and walked down a dimly lit staircase to find a small bar bathed in a reddish light packed with people. I was planning on only having one drink; then I met the man behind the bar. He had a bushy mullet/mohawk, a mustache and an Australian accent and was shaking up drinks so hard it looked like he would throw his shoulder out. Little did I know this man was nominated for Global Bartender of the Year at Tales of the Cocktail. His name is Sam Ross. Being a naive newcomer, I tested him with a Sazerac, which he aced. I was blown away at the combination of speed, precision, and ultimately the final product - this guy meant business. I deferred the choice of my next two drinks to him and guzzled down a Prescription Julep, and a Penicillin. I have not seen Sam Ross since, but heard of his success 3 months later at the Martin Miller's Gin Master's Competition in NYC courtesy of Jeffrey Morgenthaler. On that note, if you'd like to try Sam Ross' original, Penicillin, Jeff became familiar with his recipe at the Bar Convent in Berlin and could can recreate one at Clyde Common in Portland if you pay him a visit.

I admittedly did not do my next stop justice. I burned at least half an hour walking around looking for the famous Pegu Club, once again, missing a somewhat hidden door and small pink lion logo. I was exhausted, sleepy, and fairly drunk. You can learn more about the Pegu Club at their flashy website (pun intended). In the state I was in, I struggled to finish the tasty and tart Pegu Club Cocktail. A few drunk texts, a cab, and the night was over.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

NYC: The Last Day pt. 1

I have fallen behind. I failed to even finish telling about my bar adventures in Manhattan and I'm sorry. I woke up on my second day of freedom (since the conference had ended) and made my way to Joe's Shanghai for a breakfast of soup dumplings. I left very content and in a daze most likely from the rich, meaty broth I had just consumed and hopped on the subway towards Wall Street.

After a very brief stroll around the financial district I decided it was time for another meal and navigated my way to Les Halles, where Travel Channel star and my hero Anthony Bourdain worked as executive chef for many years. The place was pretty packed and bustling with what I assumed were brokers and investment bankers on their lunch break. Alright, so it was probably a bad idea to order a plate of bratwurst, other sausage, and ham on a bed of sauerkraut when I wasn't exactly starving and was coming off a very heavy breakfast, but I did. While I found this dish to be nothing better than what I could find at Gustav's back home in Portland, I enjoyed it paired with a Leffe, a Belgian pale ale.

My time in Manhattan was limited and I had to make the most of my last day. Another subway ride to what is known as the Flatiron District to find the Flatiron Lounge. After strolling into an interview session for cocktail waitresses, I waited outside and took pictures of the purple Flatiron flag that hung over the sidewalk. The Flatiron Lounge struck me as a long, tubular, super chic bar. Bellying up to the bar, alone, to order my Maxwell's Return (rosemary, pineapple juice, lime juice, and yellow chartreuse) I felt my masculinity fading away. Nonetheless, great service and a good looking a drink was put in front of me. Smelled like rosemary and had a nice balance of citrus tartness and the signature herbal blend of chartreuse, no complaints here.

Down the street to the famous Union Square Cafe! By pairing great food and wine with a spirit of warm hospitality, USC has earned Zagat's Survey #1 ranking as New York's Most Popular Restaurant an unprecedented 8 times. Owner Danny Meyer is the author of New York Times Best Seller, Setting the Table: The Transforming Power of Hospitality in Business. The decor was simple, inviting, and brightly lit. Unfortunately, I wasn't in any condition for a full blown second lunch, so I sat at the bar and ordered some light fare - beef sirloin carpaccio garnished with crispy artichokes, rocket (arugula), and parmigiano reggiano and a couple oysters on the half shell. The dish was put together very nicely and the peppery nuttiness from the parmigiana and rocket was great with the slice of sirloin. I will definitely come back one day and do the menu justice.

Back on the subway to East Village. I had to check out a place called Prune, one of Anthony Bourdain's favorite haunts. I also had to order exactly what he ordered on the New York episode of No Reservations: roasted bone marrow and prawns in anchovy butter. This was the right choice. First time for me eating roasted bone marrow, and it was everything I thought it could be. Rich with a delicate beef flavor, spread on a bruschetta, oh yeah. The prawns? Hot as hell and hard for me to shell as an amateur, but buttery, salty, sweet and tender. An unfamiliar abbey brown ale to cap things off, Corsendonk, but the oh so familiar ripe fruitiness and brown sugar sweetness of Belgian ale.

To be continued...