Vintage Fernet Branca Tasting... With Mr. Branca!

Last month I was lucky enough to get the chance to taste some old bottles of Fernet Branca during a promotional event in Portland hosted by a sixth-generation member of the family business, Edoardo Branca.  Mr. Branca pulled bottles of 1970's and 1980's Fernet from the company archives, so we could taste older versions of the liqueur alongside the modern product.  (The rightmost bottle in the picture is actually an unopened antique bottle that someone else brought to the event.)

If you're not familiar with Fernet Branca, it is an inky, delightfully bitter-tasting herbal liqueur.  Fairly sweet, you could simplistically describe Fernet's flavor as medicinal, but there is a lot more going on than that. There is a whole class of these digestive liqueurs that in Italy are called "amari" -- singular "amaro" -- which appropriately means "bitter".  But the concept is not unique to Italy. I have been obsessed with these things since I first tasted Unicum during a trip to Hungary in 1990, then I found out about Gammel Dansk (Denmark) and Rigas Black Balsams (Latvia) before I made my way to amari like Fernet Branca.

Spirits don't benefit from aging in the bottle in the way that beer or wine do.  The point of tasting the 30- and 40-year-old Fernets was to see the subtle variations over time, as ingredients and tastes change.  Here were my impressions from the event:

• 1970's Fernet: Maybe stronger than today's 78 proof? Serious echinacea bitterness, but a very long finish, with flavors developing on the tongue long after swallowing.
• 1980's Fernet: More of a chocolate bitterness in this one.  A little dusty in the beginning, with aromatic cedar notes.
• 2017 Fernet: Mintier, fresher tasting than the older ones.  A little cola-like effervescence on the tongue.

Three cocktails containing Fernet Branca were also shown off at the event.  Personally, I find that a little sacreligious.  Here is a complex herbal recipe with 150 years of history, why are you burying its flavors under a bunch of other stuff?  I asked Edoardo Branca about that, and he said reasonably enough that he doesn't object to someone drinking Fernet however they care to do it, though personally he prefers it either straight up or in a caffè corretto -- espresso with a shot of amaro in it.

He had a good story about his grandfather, Pierluigi Branca.  That gentleman also disapproved of mixing Fernet Branca, and didn't hesitate to chastise anyone he saw adulterating it with anything.  In 1955 or 1956, he happened to be in Cannes for the film festival, and in a hotel bar he overheard the revered opera singer Maria Callas as she ordered a Fernet Branca with sugar and mint added.  As he shouted his disapproval at her, his wife (Edoarado's grandmother) started shouting back at him, "You don't behave like this!".  Edoardo didn't say what Ms. Callas' reaction was, but family legend credits the encounter as the inspiration for the milder, mintier Branca Menta liqueur.

The cocktails we had that night did not do much to change my mind about the impropriety of diluting your Fernet.  In the picture at left, the bartender is making a complicated drink called The Italian Icon, with Fernet, Carpano, rum, and egg white, cleverly finished off with a disk of rice paper bearing the Branca logo.  It seemed like a lot of trouble, especially since hardly any herbal flavor at all remained in the finished product.  Somewhat more to my liking was the Shakerato -- Fernet, cold brew coffee, coffee liqueur, and cream.  The best cocktail served at the event was the Toronto -- basically a Manhattan with Fernet Branca instead of vermouth.  The herbal liqueur played well with the bite of rye whisky.  If you're interested, this article has the recipes for the Toronto, Shakerato, and a couple of other Fernet cocktails.

One more point about mixing Fernet.  The biggest market for Fernet Branca outside of Italy is Argentina, where Fernet con Coca -- Fernet mixed with Coca-Cola -- is something like the national drink.  That is also the only other country where the company produces Fernet Branca, and it is made a little stronger there, 86 proof instead of the 78 proof version made in Italy -- be sure and bring back a couple of bottles next time you find yourself in Buenos Aires.

Fernet Branca is aged in oak barrels for a year.  Since breweries these days are always looking for unique barrels to age beer in, I asked Edoardo if they ever sold their used barrels to anyone to make funky beer with.  He gave me a funny look and a curt "no".  Later I realized that a lot of their aging is done in barrels as large as 17,000 liters, so it's not like the whisky model where a lot of small barrels are used once or twice and then passed on.  No wonder he thought it was a strange question.  I did enjoy a very interesting Odell Brewing Fernet-aged Porter a few years ago, but those barrels were from a Colorado distillery.

Here's another take on the Portland event, with a lot of nice photos.  Many thanks to Edoardo Branca for visiting us in Portland.  The vertical tasting was something I never would have expected to experience, and it was great to hear his personal insights about a classic drink.

't Arendsnest, Amsterdam

On our recent trip to Europe, I expected excellent beer during our 3 days in Belgium, but the most pleasant surprise to me was what a wonderful beer town Amsterdam is. I already wrote about Gollem's Proeflokaal, but my favorite pub of the whole trip was  't Arendsnest, a beer bar in the western canal district of Amsterdam that only serves beer brewed in the Netherlands.  It's not just the selection of 30 Dutch taps and scores of bottles that makes it a great place, but the cozy, comfortable digs and the relaxed atmosphere.

On our first visit, Carla and I had very little idea what to order.  The only familiar names to me on the taplist were La Trappe, which I figured is readily enough available in Portland, and Jan Hertog, which I had seen alongside Grolsch at the supermarket in the Jordaan neighborhood where we were staying.  Luckily in scanning the taphandles I noticed that the "Rook & Vuur" on the chalkboard was actually a smoked doppelbock ("Smoke & Fire") from De Molen -- possibly also available in Portland, but never on tap, and pretty pricey in the bottle.  Now we had to figure out something for Carla -- treading around the abbey-style ales that she doesn't usually like -- but a quick consultation with the bartender led to an excellent choice: Jopen Extra Stout.  The Rook & Vuur had just the right touch of smoke on top of a deep, complex beer.  The Jopen was a delicious, dark, roasty, creamy stout that arrived with a thick, tan head that stood up over the top of Carla's goblet.

In the picture at the top you can see a sink of soap suds and a sink full of clean water.  When you order a draft beer, the glass is washed and rinsed before being filled, then carefully submerged first in the soapy basin and then in the clean basin before being handed to you, to keep you from having any sticky beer on the outside of your glass.  Is this outside rinse after the pour the usual Low Country ritual?  Maybe we tended to order bottles more often at other places, but 't Arendsnest is the only place I noticed the rinsing ritual.

Carla went bigger with her next beer, a fantastic 2009 Imperial Stout from Dutch brewing collective SNAB called Czaar Peter; I went for something lighter with a satisfying malty amber called Roodborst (Redbreast) from De Snaterende Arend, which is the house label of 't Arendsnest.  In trying to pin down the parentage of those two beers for this post, I see that both of them were likely contract brewed at De Proef Brouwerij, whose distinguished-sounding name completely obscures the Dutch joke that it is merely The "Test" Brewery.  (While we're doing a Dutch lesson, I'll reveal that 't Arendsnest means "the Eagle's nest", and is a pun on the owner's last name -- Peter van der Arend.  The 't is a contraction of het, which is the definite article for neuter-gender nouns, though it beats me when you use het and when 't.  "De Snaterende Arend" means "the clucking eagle", according to this very detailed history of the place on the White Beer Travels website, and is a pun on the names of Arend and a brewer named Snater.)

More good beers were had on a second visit.  I pressed the light and hoppy Jopen Gerstebier into service as the beer side of a kopstootje, somewhat to the amusement of the Arendsnest bartenders, but I was a little disappointed that the shot of genever wasn't served in the tiny glass that gets filled up past the rim.  Carla continued her imperial stout mission with an Emelisse on tap.  I wasn't all that happy with my next beer, a low-gravity De Molen rauchbier called Geboren & Getogen ("born and raised").  I was hoping for something like Rook & Vuur's little brother, but they seemed to be totally unrelated; Geboren had some "band-aid" phenols that I didn't care for, and a tiny bit of sourness that didn't go well with the smoke for me.

I consoled myself for that beer disappointment with a taste of barrel-aged 3-year-old genever from Zuidam; as luck would have it the bar didn't have enough for a full shot, so I was compensated with a half shot of 5-year-old genever from the same distiller.  It was more along the lines of a whisky than a gin, but still pretty dry and with nice aromatics.  The 5 was much smoother than the 3, and that's what I'd get if I were having it again.  (By the way, It's Pub Night sponsor Master of Malt sells Zuidam 5 Jaar Zeer Oude Genever, including small samples.)  The evening was capped off with the Java Tripel from Holland's De Halve Maan brewery (not the one in Brugge).  Don't worry, it wasn't a coffee tripel, just a straightforward, decent abbey-style ale.

A little bit of snack food is available at 't Arendsnest, cheese or sausage trays and a few variations on the peanut -- I liked the crunchy corn-battered borrelnoten.  The pub is not terribly large, so I imagine it might get a little crowded, though we easily found spots at the bar on both of our visits.  If you have a large group and you want an introductory lesson on Dutch beer, 't Arendsnest takes reservations for guided tasting sessions that are held in a separate area in the basement, though you'll miss the ambiance and camaraderie of the ground floor.

'T Arendsnest is a knockout.  Don't miss it if you're in Amsterdam.

Master of Malt: Caol Ila 30 and Highland Park 13

The British whisky retailer Master of Malt sent me a couple more samples from their Drinks by the Dram program that I wrote about back in January.  Drinks by the Dram is a slick way to try some scotches you wouldn't otherwise be able to afford, or that you might splurge on if you knew you were going to enjoy it.

That's pretty well illustrated by these two recent samples, bottled under the store's own label.  First up, an unusual single-cask 30 year-old Caol Ila.  I love Caol Ila's standard bottlings, especially the 18.  On the other hand, the little exposure I've had to really old scotches has led me to believe they aren't necessarily for me.  This fits the Drinks by the Dram model really well:  I wouldn't risk $135 on a bottle of it, but I can't deny that I'm curious how it would taste.  Similarly with the second sample, a single-cask 13 year-old Highland Park.  In this case, I'm not a huge fan of the distillery, but this is a non-sherried expression -- it was aged in bourbon barrels -- so again, my curiosity is piqued.  And the $5 sample price is tough to beat.

Dave next door is at least as big a peat freak as I am, so I took the samples over the other night so we could talk them over.  (The picture above is a glass with my half of the Caol Ila -- double that to get an idea of the sample size.)  We agreed that the Caol Ila was stunning, but neither of us was very impressed by the Highland Park.

Here are my notes on the two:

Caol Ila: Pretty hot and intense: 57% ABV. As expected for 30 y.o., a little dusty and astringent at first (maybe even a pine tar sensation), but it opens up on the tongue, for a long, complex finish. Smoky, but not overpoweringly so, less than my recollections of "regular" Caol Ila. If you can bear to add a drop of water -- literally a single drop -- it takes a little of the initial astringency off. Very good dram.

Highland Park: Not a huge fan of the distillery, but it's interesting to have a non-sherried sample. Very sweet in a surprising way. I miss the sherry; I think it would help with a vegetal or mushroomy taste that's present. I wouldn't recommend it except for someone who is a Highland Park follower that wants to try something quite different from the usual expressions.

By the way, as part of my half-hearted attempt to make some money off of It's Pub Night, I've enrolled in Master of Malt's partner program, because I think it's a pretty good service they're offering, plus U.S. customers can request a VAT refund on orders -- effectively a 16% discount.  Master of Malt will give me a kickback if you buy something after arriving there from the links in this post, or from the links to them I've put in the blog sidebar (with a few other moneymaking schemes under the "Monetize Me" headline).  I don't expect to make a dime off it, but if you're going to buy something from them, click one of my links so they'll know I sent ya.

Pearl Specialty Market and Spirits

Pearl Specialty's Beer and Cigar Selection

Since I realized the other day that Bridgeport ESB had been discontinued by the brewery, I've been on a mission to find a few remaining bottles on sale somewhere. One of the bottle shops that I scoured -- to no avail -- was Pearl Specialty Market at 9th and NW Lovejoy. Even though the Pearl Market couldn't fulfill my ESB quest, I realized that the place is a hidden gem that a lot of people might not be aware of, offering a classy selection of micros and imports. It has flown under the radar to become the best bottle shop in NW Portland or downtown -- the only other competition in that part of town are the big grocery stores.

I'd been aware of Pearl Specialty for a while.  It created quite a splash when it opened, because the OLCC granted it one of the few licenses in Oregon to sell beer and wine alongside stronger spirits. More to the point, I realized it was one of the few liquor stores in town to be open until 10 PM -- most of them close at 7.

The liquor selection

I've saved a couple of neighborhood parties with that knowledge.  [As an aside, click here for my trick for scoring bottles of gin and rum even later into the night.] And for a while it was one of the few liquor stores in Portland that opened on Sunday, though the Republican Recession has made that a more commonplace occurrence in the last couple of years.

So I was aware of it as a liquor store, and I knew they sold beer, but I was surprised to see how much the beer selection has improved since my last visit a couple years ago.  According to the owner, Pearl Specialty started adding more beers when the store expanded in September of last year.  They are working towards a goal of stocking 1000 beers.  The picture at the top shows most of the beer section, and there is also another bank of coolers full of bombers and 12-packs outside the frame to the left.  They carry the Oregon standards, plus a high-end selection from beyond our fair borders:  off the top of my head, they seemed to carry pretty complete lineups from places like The Bruery, Dogfish Head, and Trappist breweries like Westmalle, St. Bernardus, and Rochefort.  You won't have a problem finding something to suit your mood if you go in there.

The beer prices are pretty normal -- not Beermongers cheap, but not predatory like you'd expect from a shop in the Pearl District.  I was mighty pleased to snag a bomber of Caldera's Rose Petal Imperial Golden for about $4.50, and stalwarts like Ninkasi and Lompoc ring in at the usual Portland price of $4.  Plus, there is a 5% discount if you buy 3 bottles of beer or wine, and a 10% discount if you buy 6 bottles -- that brings the Ninkasi down to $3.60, which actually is about as cheap as you'll find.

You've got to appreciate Pearl Specialty's motto:  Purveyor to those seeking the finer things in life.  To my mind that starts with good beer and high-end booze, but they also have a decent selection of wine and sake, and a cigar humidor.  Apparently designer bottled water was part of the original plan, but it isn't conspicuously on display there anymore and doesn't show up on the website.  Tough sell in a town were the tap water is as good as it is here.

Bottle shops have been springing up all over Portland in the last couple of years.  Following Belmont Station's lead, the latest fashion is to attach a bar to a bottle shop (Beermongers, Bottles) or vice versa (Saraveza, Hop and Vine [bottle shop opening Saturday]).  Pearl Specialty's angle of bottle shop plus liquor store is another interesting business model.  You could think of it as one-stop shopping for beer cocktails.  Anyway, cool place.  If you need a bottle of booze after the other liquor stores are closed, or if you're in the Pearl and you need to pick up a good bottle of beer, Pearl Specialty is the place to go.

Master of Malt: Drinks by the Dram

Almost all of my alcoholic beveraging is beer these days, but I do have a soft spot for a few distilled spirits, especially single malt whiskies. My involvement peaked a few years ago when my neighbor Dave and I got into an Islay arms race at about the same time we fell in with a poker and Scotch group that included some prodigious collectors who were very generous with their whisky hoard.  Below is a picture of the buffet at my house one night -- the collection was often twice as large if we were playing at the chief instigator's house.

Scotch and Poker Night, 2006

Hanging with a crowd like that, I got to try a range of bottlings much broader than any bar would ever stock.  But in the quest for novelty you sometimes end up with a pricey bottle of something that sounded special but that doesn't really suit you that well.

So I was definitely intrigued when I got an email from British spirits retailer Master of Malt, touting their Drinks by the Dram program, where you can order 3 cl samples of many of the whiskies they sell, for prices mostly in the range of $3.50 to $8.50 (at today's relatively favorable exchange rate of £1 = $1.56)  all the way up to $122 for a rare 1952 Glenfarclas. Now, I'm not likely to go for that 1952, but in a moment of weakness I might part with $28 for a taste of the Glenfarclas 1966 -- distilled the year I was born.  The real usefulness of Drinks by the Dram is to get a reasonably-priced sample of something you might want to buy a whole bottle of -- for example, plunking down $7 on a 19 year old Laphroaig bottled by Signatory before taking a $95 chance on a full bottle.

Master of Malt recently sent me 5 free samples from Drinks by the Dram.  The samples were packaged in little screw-top vials that are then sealed with red wax.  If 3 cl doesn't mean anything to you, consider that bars usually pour you a 4 cl dram of whisky or brandy, and airplane/minibar liquor bottles are 5 cl. The picture at left shows one of the samples poured into a Reidel single-malt glass: slightly smaller than what I'd normally pour myself from the bottle, but enough to get a good idea of the taste.

The prices of the samples ranged from $5.43 for MM's 12 year old Islay from an anonymous distillery (Bruichladdich is my guess) to $13.31 for Johnnie Walker Blue, but if you're ordering from the U.S. -- or anywhere outside the EU -- request a VAT (value added tax) refund in the delivery instructions when you place your order.  VAT is 20% right now, so your refund is effectively a 16% discount on the list price.  For example, a dram listed at $6 will get you a $1 refund.

The total cost for my shipment would have been $34.08 ($40.56 before the VAT rebate), plus $15.68 for shipping to the U.S., which should take a week or so.  It's a little pricey per ounce, but a very economical way to try some hard-to-find stuff.  Consider that bars here in Portland would charge you $8-$12 for a dram of Scotch, and the total cost for the Drinks by the Dram pencils out to be about the same or maybe less, especially if you are tipping correctly.  You'd get a little more whisky at the bar, but your selection would be much smaller.

It's especially nice that the more expensive the bottle, the more reasonably priced the sample is as a percentage of the cost.  For example, the Johnnie Walker sample at $13.31 is about 6% of the $209 price of a 70cl bottle, but the house-bottled Islay sample was almost 10% of the price of a full bottle ($56.71).

OK, enough about the pounds and pence, I'll tell you about the whiskies I got to try as part of this deal.  Dave is at least as big a whisky hound as I am, so he came over and tried them with me.  Neither of us had tried any of them before, so chalk one up for novelty.

• Johnnie Walker Blue - Blended whisky is so far off my radar that I didn't even know there was a Blue label JW.  Apparently it's the top of the line, and it showed.  It was impressively smooth, with just a hint of smoke in the finish. Quoth Dave: "I could drink gallons and gallons no problem".
• Tyrconnel 10 y.o. Sherry Cask - Irish single malts are also a new concept for me.  This one had a nice caramelly sherry palate, followed by an aromatic finish that had me thinking "hairspray", though not in a totally disagreeable way.  Worth a try if Irish whiskies are your thing.
• Master of Malt 12 y.o. Islay - Intense smoke over a full malt body, followed by a light touch of iodine. Like one of the smoky Bruichladdich bottlings.  I love this style of whisky, but $56 plus shipping for a 700ml bottle isn't a great deal for US buyers.
• Edradour 10 y.o. cask strength - Hot, woody, and dusty. A little bit of a wine flavor. Tastes a lot like a 25- or 30-y.o. (i.e., too long in the barrel).  Not my thing, but if you like that dusty flavor of a long time in the barrel, it might be for you.
• Zuidam 5 y.o. Rye Whisky - From a Dutch distiller better known for his traditional gins (genevers).  This whisky is smooth, understated, quite dry. The fruity rye flavor takes a while to hit you. Dave says it's like sucking on a honeycomb -- not sweet, but dries your tongue out like that.  If you're a rye whiskey person and want something a little mellow, it might be for you.

Anyway, Drinks by the Dram is an interesting service.  As I said, I'm not the whisky man I used to be, but I can definitely imagine myself ordering a few samples to satisfy my curiosity about a given distiller or bottler, or to try something special I wouldn't otherwise be able to afford.

Laphroaig 18 Year Old

Today I'll take a break from beer and review Laphroaig's latest expression -- an 18-year-old bottled at cask strength 48% ABV, 10% stronger than the Laphroaig 10 and 15 year old bottlings.  [Update 2011/04/26: An astute reader pointed out that I mistakenly said it was cask strength.  Yes, it's stronger than the 15, but not cask strength.]  It has been on the market for at least six months now, but I spend so little time in liquor stores these days that I didn't notice it until a couple of weeks ago.  Man, oh man, I'm glad I finally did.  I have a new favorite Scotch whisky. Well, the legendary sherry-cask Talisker 20 might never be displaced, but let's say that of all the whiskies available to me today, this is tops.

Laphroaig is a long-time favorite of mine.  I love the intense smoke/seawater/medicine flavors of Laphroaig 10; I appreciate the mellower, more refined presentation of Laphroaig 15; I respect the big Islay wallop of the Laphroaig Quarter Cask.  Take the strengths of those three variants and put them into one bottle, and voila, you have Laphroaig 18.  In other words, if you're a fan of the distillery and you haven't had this yet, you must try it.

The 15-year-old -- which by the way is being replaced by this 18 -- is a nice dram, but it always disappointed me a little bit because it gives up too much of the flavor you get with the 10-year-old.  On the other hand, there's no denying that Laphroaig 10 is perhaps a little too pungent.  The 18 is the best of both worlds.  It rounds off the harsh edges that remain in the 10, without losing the massive assault of peat smoke and iodine that defines Laphroaig.  The peaty, briny finish stays on the tongue for ages.  It's a big 'un, too:  96 proof.  Don't dilute this masterpiece very much, but to really open up the flavors, add 1 or 2 drops of water.

The price is a steal for this caliber of whisky:  right now it's $78 in Oregon liquor stores.  That price may be headed up: Google turns up prices over $100, and a California liquor store favored by some Scotch-loving friends of mine is selling it for $130 (for comparison, they list Laphroaig 10 at $30, far cheaper than the usual Oregon price).  Click here to order Laphroaig 18 from British retailer Master of Malt: it's a 70 cl European bottle, but remember to request your 16% VAT refund if you're ordering from outside the EU.

New Deal Vodka

Saturday we marched our out-of-town guests Michael and Ana down to the open house at New Deal Distillery. That's Tom, one of the founders, manning the bar. New Deal started up a few years ago with a mission of providing Portland with quality local vodka at an affordable price. At first they worked out of a cheap office in the ActiveSpace building at SE 9th and Main Street. At some point they moved across the street into more spacious digs, which gave them room for better equipment, more experimentation, and Saturday afternoon open houses (noon to 5 PM).

It's been a while since I had New Deal's eponymous 80-proof vodka, and it was even nicer than I remember it -- perhaps a testament to the new equipment. It is distilled with a few secret botanicals to add a little aromatic flavor, but not enough to push it out of neutral vodka range. I'm not a spirits expert, but that was news to me: I always thought vodka was just pure distilled hooch with no fancy additives. Next time you need some vodka, buy local! It's good stuff.

We also sampled their other wares: Portland 88, stronger and less aromatic than the flagship vodka; Hot Monkey, a pepper vodka made with five secret chiles; and a chocolate vodka that hasn't hit the store shelves yet. I didn't expect to like the chocolate vodka, and I didn't for a couple seconds, but it grew on me quickly. It wasn't half bad. The Hot Monkey was more to my liking. Carla and I argued over which pepper types are in it -- ancho was the flavor I picked up, but she claimed chipotle. More research is needed, so I bought a bottle to take home.

Distilleries have taken off in that neighborhood in a big way. We wanted to make another stop at Integrity Spirits, but no one was there Saturday afternoon. Just a few blocks south on 7th is House Spirits, and distillers Sub Rosa and Artisan Spirits are somewhere nearby.

New Deal is also producing a line of organically-grown liqueurs for a Bay Area company called Loft Liqueurs. We tried three of the Loft flavors: lavender, ginger, and lemongrass. Pretty fancy. I liked the ginger best, but I'm especially impressed at how good the lemongrass liqueur was. I love the flavor of lemongrass, but when I tried to infuse some into vodka a few years ago, it was a disaster -- an alarming chemical-solvent flavor was what I ended up with. Not so with Loft's lemongrass: its delicate herbal lemon flavor was right on. Certified organic and repels mosquitoes, should be a big seller.

If you find yourself at the Lucky Lab or the Green Dragon some Saturday afternoon, walk over to New Deal and take advantage of the open house.

Integrity Spirits Trillium Absinthe

Last week at the Green Dragon I ran into Rich Phillips, one of the founders of Integrity Spirits, the startup distillery that shares the same building with the Dragon. I told him that I really enjoyed Integrity's 12 Bridges Gin, and wished I had tried their Trillium Absinthe. Thinking out loud paid off for me yet again, because he invited me to follow him back to Integrity for a taste of la fée verte.

Of course I knew Integrity was distilling right there, and House Spirits is located just down from Roots at 7th and Harrison. But while we were chatting, Rich pointed out that there were three more distilleries in the same few blocks bounded by Stark, Division, 7th, and 12th: New Deal (very incognito right near the Lucky Lab), Artisan Spirits, and Highball Distillery. We're not going to get thirsty here in 97214.

Back at Integrity, Rich poured me a generous shot of Trillium into a tapered glass, and topped it off with water from an industrial-looking hose hooked up to their purified water system, as seen in the grainy cellphone photo. None of this flaming sugar-cube pretentiousness for these guys (full disclosure: I am pretentious enough to own an absinthe spoon). And really, that was the perfect way to drink Trillium: there's just the right amount of sweetness in there that I wouldn't add sugar. Diluted three- or four-to-one like that, it's very pleasing to the eye, a slight green tinge to the milky liquid. The licoricey anise flavor is smooth and beautiful -- not harsh like Ouzo or cloying like my recollection of some other anise drinks. Something in the mix numbs your mouth a little like cloves would. A very relaxing experience.

I couldn't wait to pick up a bottle of my own. I almost flinched at 11th Avenue Liquors when I saw the $60 price tag, but keep in mind that this is a concentrated solution -- 120 proof. This isn't your cheap Spanish or Czech absinthe that you pound back in hopes of seeing stars. It's a work of art, made by true believers right here in Portland. Dilute it and savor it, it's worth the investment.

Beer Martini

The other day we had some guests over and I shook up some martinis. If you're a stickler for correctness, you know that James Bond has it wrong: the classic martini is stirred, not shaken. However, I consider shaking an improvement on my usual technique, which is to just put everything into a martini glass and stir it with my finger.

After the guests had left and I was cleaning up the kitchen, I remembered that I had a few ounces of Laurelwood Hop Bale Pale in a growler in the fridge. It was totally flat, almost a week old. Hmm... can it be put any good use? Yes, of course. Here's my beer martini recipe:

Stale Pale Ale Martini

• 2 oz. pale ale
• 4 - 6 oz. gin
  
• 3 olives
• 3 ice cubes

Put everything into a glass. Stir with finger.

Keep your gin in the freezer so the drink will be nice and cold. Use good olives, also -- I find that garlic-stuffed olives are a good choice, or a mix of garlic- and jalapeno-stuffed. Important: for those of you arriving here from Google searches: use good beer (Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, Sam Adams Boston Ale -- not Boston Lager). Note that a "single" at a bar uses about 1.5 oz. of gin, so the recipe above is a big drink. Scale it to fit your glassware/tolerance.

The beer martini was mighty tasty with some 95-proof Cascade Mountain Gin. It's a little sweeter than a normal martini, and the beer complements gin's aromatics very nicely. Don't be afraid of using a hoppy beer -- this also worked well with Sierra Nevada's Chico Estate. In an interesting bit of synchronicity, a couple days after my first beer martini, the Oregonian reported that the official Oregon cocktail was a concoction made with Terminal Gravity IPA. Are you ready for beer cocktails?

By the way, if you want to make a killer regular martini, simply substitute cheap white wine or leftover champagne for the pale ale. That's a trick I learned long ago from that culinary classic, Bull Cook and Authentic Historical Recipes and Practices. The inimitable George Herter points out that vermouth is nothing but wine that was so bad that it could only be sold by flavoring it with bitter herbs. Instead of paying a premium for vermouth, go buy the second-cheapest Chardonnay at Safeway, and have yourself a decent martini.