Category: blogging
columbus, Gin, Marketing, Rule 2

A Watershed Distillery Documentary

This lovely little video tells a bit of the story behind one of Columbus's fine local distilleries, Watershed. It is a student project by Kelly Insinga here at Columbus College of Art & Design. The quality of this little six minute documentary says great things about Insinga's talent, and the instruction at CCAD. I've featured Watershed's products on this blog before, as well as a (far less impressive) video of my own, but they are worth talking about again. And again. There are small distilleries popping up all over the country, and I visit every one I can when I travel. I have taken to using Watershed, which I have studied since they opened, as a benchmark by which to measure all these other brave ventures. And most every visit to another micro, whether I'm impressed with what they are doing or not, leaves me a bit more impressed with Watershed in one way or another. Their Four Peel Gin is my favorite among their products. I like the citrus-forward profile. The price is reasonable. But most importantly, They have locked it down. Gin is a deceptive spirit to make. It requires no aging, so the economics make great sense for a startup, but it is devilishly hard to make consistently over time, especially for a small manufacturing concern. Watershed definitely had some wobbles after a great start in their first few batches. I know a number of people who first tried it back when their production first started to accelerate... um. I had some of those early two-digit batches myself. I didn't find them bad, just not as special as those very first runs were... or as special as the current gin is, batch after batch. Consistency is the key in gin, and Watershed has had it for a while now. Right now, you can only get their products in Ohio for the most part. Given Watershed's success so far, and the way they've achieved it, I expect that will change in future years. In the mean time, come visit Columbus. Drop me a line.abc
drinking, Rule 4, science

Thoughts on “The Wagon”

[caption id="attachment_11186" align="aligncenter" width="2000"]Not this wagon, more's the pity. Not this wagon, more's the pity.[/caption] So March was an interesting month for me. I always have a big motivation hangover after Tiki Month in February, so this year I decided to lean into the curve and just go fully dry for the whole month... up until a family wedding at the very end. I'm not crazy. Why do people take a temporary ride on The Wagon? Lots of reasons, I suppose. There is a custom called Dry January, which seems to have originated in the United Kingdom and has in recent years become a fund-raising event as well. A number of my Twitter friends and followers seem to give it a go each year as well. My reasons for trying it (albeit in March) were two-fold. First, and most importantly, I wanted to make sure I could. My family has had its share of members who have suffered from problems controlling their drinking, from simple difficulty with portion control to full-blown alcoholism. I do not wish to go down any of those roads. In fact, one reason I like cocktails so much is that I firmly believe that one way to control the slippery slope of Just One More is to choose to drink things that are just enough of a pain in the ass to make that you think twice before each and every one. Thus, March was an on-going experiment in measuring how much difficulty I would have in not drinking, and how I felt during the effort. What I expected to happen was much like what this British writer describes: cravings, dreams, cheating, and an altered social life in aid of succeeding. I was ready for all that, but I found that I had relatively little difficulty at all. First and foremost, I never felt like I just needed a drink. I never found myself reaching for something unconsciously. The number one most important thing I learned is that not only am I not overly dependent on alcohol, I really don't feel dependent on it at all. I'm not saying I didn't miss cocktails. I missed them often, but what I was fantasizing about was flavor. I've claimed for years that what I value in drinking is the culinary value, not the buzz. I was a little bit surprised, honestly, to discover that I haven't been bullshitting. And keeping sober was easier than I expected in other ways too. Lots of wagoneers change their social habits in self-defense, just like smokers who avoid the things they used to smoke during while going cold turkey. While I didn't go out as much during March, I still did go, still sat at the bars, even ate there (or didn't). I wasn't miserable, or even particularly tempted. I also deliberately did not encourage the PeguWife to get on the wagon with me. I sat beside her evenings while she had her glass of wine, and I did not feel jealous. I even made her cocktails. Testing a drink before serving has become a habit for me, and remembering not to do that may have been the hardest thing during the month. I genuinely did not know how I'd handle the test, and I'm almost smug about how well I did. But I will never stop being careful on this front. Second, my liver is not getting any younger, and I'd like to remain friends. The liver is designed to handle toxins like alcohol, that's what it is there for. But there is no doubt that a relentless workout takes its toll over time. Years of alcohol consumption will inevitably leave scars on any liver. But there is some pretty solid science that demonstrates the liver's amazing ability to regenerate itself, given a break. A month of teetotaling gives the body's waste processing plant a chance for a lot of maintenance. Liver health will improve, in many cases rather dramatically. Major changes include reductions in organ hardness and liver fat deposits, both precursors of serious liver problems. Other health benefits claimed on behalf of a month of sobriety are weight loss, lowered blood sugar, and a host of other lifestyle effects like better sleep, etc. I didn't do any clinical tests on myself, but I did take a careful inventory of how I felt and how my body treated me before, during, and after March. I have sleeping problems whether I am on the wagon or not, but they are different. Going to bed with a few drinks in me, I usually wake between two to four in the morning for a brisk half hour or so of wrestling with whatever haunts me currently. When I wasn't drinking, I woke much less in the middle of the night, but I had a lot harder time actually getting to sleep in the first place. That was pretty much a wash. The big difference was how I felt in the mornings. Until I went dry, I didn't realize how bleary I was feeling many mornings. I felt a lot better before lunch all of a sudden. The best part is, now that I'm back to regular drinking levels, I still feel better in the morning than before. Not as good as I felt when sober, but still markedly better. I will be interested to see if this keeps up over the next year, and if I can tell. I also have lost a good bit of weight, but I doubt the sobriety had anything to do with that. I've been keeping to a low-carb diet since I put away all the Tiki Month syrups, etc. I've enjoyed nice, steady, noticeable weight loss the entire time, and going off the wagon has not changed that. But that's another post. I will say here, that most Dry January weight loss seems more due to reductions in carbs and calories from beer or wine. If you are a cocktail drinker with tastes like mine, I seriously doubt you will get much weight loss from stopping booze. What makes a month so special? Probably nothing, other than humans' need for nice round numbers. The science says some benefits appear well before a month. What the sweet spot is maximizing benefit for amount of effort is not known. It could be two weeks, it could be seven. What is known is that a month seems to give pretty good results. And for someone who is less lucky than me in terms of the mental effort needed to stay sober, a nice, defined period of "suffering" would likely make chances of success a lot higher. My March on The Wagon was well worth it. I will do it again. I may not do it again the same month, and depending on the results of my annual physicals, I may not do it every year. But I feel it was certainly worthwhile. I'm going to press the PeguWife to try it soon. And I suggest, if you haven't given it a shot, and you are no longer so young as to imagine yourself to be indestructible, you ought to try it too.abc
General Cocktails, Rule 2

Outstanding Video on Cocktail First Principals

I just want to highlight an outstanding new video from The Mixology Guys on the Small Screen Network's YouTube cocktail channel. Embedded below it is a brisk 90 seconds of slow-mo drink pr0n and four bedrock principals in making any drink the best it can be. For those who can't watch it for whatever reason, here are the four elements that go into a truly good drink:
  1. Mix Ingredients. You might say, "duh", but until you understand why this is important, you don't really understand the Dao of cocktails. The purpose of making drinks is to produce a potable that is better in some fashion than any and all of its component ingredients. A few years back, I went to a session at Tales of the Cocktail where some of my favorite big names in the liquor industry discussed how seldom they actually drank cocktails any more. The gist of the argument from much of the panel was, "the distiller's art has reached previously unheard of heights. There are so many beautifully crafted spirits out there, it makes sense to enjoy them on their own to fully appreciate them." Fair enough. There are indeed many truly fine, expensive bottles of whiskey, brandy, rum, and even gin out there that are so crafted as to make them immune to the "improvement" of the mixed drink. But if you can spend your life drinking nothing but ultra-premium liquor with naught but the occasional splash of water or ice, you are either a wealthy alcoholic... or a brand ambassador. (Some might argue that the difference is that brand ambassadors are seldom wealthy.)
  2. Dilution. Enough said. Until you understand the effects of dilution, you can't really understand how to make a really great drink. Anyone who sneers at dilution on general principals doesn't know the first damn thing about cocktails.
  3. Temperature. Make sure your cold drinks are cold. (And your hot ones actually hot.) Ever get into a really good argument with someone and turn back to your Sidecar, only to discover it has gotten warm? Ew.
  4. Aeration of Ingredients. This is both perhaps the best element of this video, and the only part I have a quibble with. For the vast majority of mixed drinks, air is critical to making it the best it can be, for the reasons they outline beautifully. But not for all drinks. I strictly adhere to the "clear ingredients—no shake" credo. I like my Martinis stirred. I will call Child Services and report you if you shake your Manhattans. I don't muddle fruit in my Old Fashioneds, so I also don't add any soda. Air is amazing in what it can do to for drinks that can benefit from it. 90% of the drinks I make can, and I take great care to ensure that I apply aeration liberally there. But please, please remember that this rule is NOT universal!
abc
Bartenders, General Cocktails, Marketing, Rule 4

The Next Word We Need To Banish: Curated

Can we talk? It is time to recognize that another word has gotten out of control. It is rampaging through the cocktail (and general culinary) industry, making those who employ it look insufferably twee. And worse, making the entire industry which is perilously close to embracing it look twee as well. I mean more twee than craft cocktails already kind of are. To be sure, this word is also being abused in many other arenas as well, but I write about cocktails, so that's where it pisses me off the most. It's just pretentious as hell. I'm talking about our sudden need to claim that we "curate" everything. Stop it. First off, most people don't know what it means, even if they just read the bare bones definition a few minutes ago. Most folks hear curate or curator and think of it as someone who collects and presents rare and precious things in museums. The positive image that probably lurks in their subconscious when they think of curators, especially if they are considering identifying themselves as such, is this guy: indiana-jones-curator No. That guy is in "Purchasing". A curator is more this guy. X1QAr1GR_400x400 Not quite the same, huh? But either way, the subtext cocktail types who employ the word curate want to portray is collecting, organizing, presenting, and protecting things that represent the great works of a civilization. You know, as in, "This belongs in a museum!" And that is the subtext most people who see the word employed have as well. And that's the problem. A cocktail menu, I don't care it is Dead Rabbit's or Smuggler's Cove's, is not a collection of the great works of a civilization. Sure, the Manhattan may well be the single greatest culinary achievement of American civilization. I happen to think it is. But let's face it, your list of house-created seasonal recipes is not the Louvre. It's not even Ripley's. And even if a cocktail menu is made up of nothing but time-honored masterworks, prepared to perfection... it's a list of drinks. And putting them on a menu does nothing to protect them for posterity. It is a colossally pretentious word for a list of products available for sale in, for practical purposes, unlimited quantities. Even if you have a "carefully curated selection of rare whiskeys", it is still a bunch of bottles on a shelf or three. If a particular bottle is still made, it is something for sale, again, in relatively unlimited quantities. If it has been discontinued, the purpose of offering it for sale is ultimately to destroy it permanently. None of all this is curation. The most charitable interpretation of this phenomenon is just another cutesy element in an industry that already dances so close with being "precious", a chaperone needs to swing by with a ruler to separate them for the craft's own good. JAEb383 At it's worst, this "curation" fetish is self-important, "Tulip Bubble" kind of thinking that encourages a dangerous disconnect between the value of a product as perceived by customers and by producers. Whether you are Le Lion de Paris or Bob's Bar (The Cultural Hub of the Midwest!), You. Are. A. Business. You are not a revered academic institution. Seriously guys, this term is creeping into use by people I both like and highly respect. Stop it. You are only damaging your industry and your own enterprise. And looking just a bit like an ass doing it.abc
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