Home Bar Basics is going the KickStarter route to publish their book. I ponied up!

Food & Wine Magazine releases a cocktail annual almanac each year. I’ve bought a couple of them over the years, and only just got around to picking up a copy of Cocktails 2010 today from a display at my local grocery store where I had gone to pick up yard-long straws for use in Scorpion Bowls (but that’s another post). I had not even intended to review it at all, as the series is well-known already. But the PeguWife noticed an absolutely killer feature in this edition that would merit a full post in and of itself.

I’ll detail said feature last, after I mention a few things about the book otherwise. There are over 160 recipes, ranging from some standards, to forgotten drinks, to updated old recipes, to new creations. They are broken up into sections, each introduced with a profile of a famous mixologist. Jeff Berry (natch) introduces the rum chapter for instance, and a host of other All-Stars have at least an original recipe included. It’s a good format that thinks a little outside the box. In general, it works effectively, but I confess I cannot understand the inclusion of genever and aquavit in the vodka section….
There is a section of pretty good-looking mocktails, and of course some delicious recipes too. Most of the recipes would make good hors d’oeuvres, but a few are full on entrees or other dishes more suited to the table than a cocktail party. This threw me for a loop at first, but it actually makes sense. Since cocktails are becoming more readily acceptable with dinner (as opposed to just before and after), it makes sense to look at meals that complement them as well.

But the killer feature, the feature that should be found in every damn illustrated cocktail book published, is this: The model and maker of every glass used in every picture is detailed right on the page. I love collecting beautiful glasses, and reading most cocktail books is at least a partial exercise is frustrated covetousness. I hate seeing gorgeous glasses that I can’t find. With the simple addition of a caption, Food & Wine lets you at least find the glasses they use in the pictures. They even let you know what the wallpaper is you can see in the background of some shots.

Whether my finances will allow me to buy the glasses in the book that I like most is another matter. The Iittala Ultima Thule Highball, shown here containing a Jalisco Sling, goes for 52 bucks a pair on Amazon. I haven’t pushed the One Click button yet, but I may.

The Bamboo Tumbler (by Roost) showcasing the Sugar Hill Punch has already been ordered (not from Amazon, alas) because it is only $17.

Without this feature of glass brand and model information, Cocktails 2010 would be a good buy. Its inclusion makes this attractive little book a super one.

So I have been fighting a new addiction lately, more powerful than even Demon Rum. It’s called Twitter. (If you aren’t following me yet, shame on you. Click here… now!) Up until a week ago, I’d have called Twitter completely useless fun, but now I only call it mostly useless fun. Someone’s retweet brought to my attention a little book called Old Man Drinks: Recipes, Advice, and Barstool Wisdom. I thought it might be good for a laugh, so I punched Amazon’s Buy Now button.
Not only was I not disappointed in Old Man Drinks, I was pleased way beyond my expectations.
What I expected was a book full of funny quotes from geezer barflies, illustrated with pictures of said geezers. The book certainly delivers on the quotes, such as:

I’ve taken an involuntary vow of celibacy.
—Pablo, 69, janitor

and

A little booze’ll make you charming, a little more will make you an ass. I hope to ride that line tonight.
—John, 68, painter

There are many better one’s in the book, but I chose those two since the author already shared them via the book’s own Twitter feed.
Many of the photographs are charming and show that age can be a beautiful, if sometimes haunting thing. The layout is very well done as well. For just these things, Old Man Drinks would be worth the fifteen dollar cover price (ten bucks on Amazon). But what really surprised me are the recipes to be found inside.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to find, but I guess I was looking for Boilermakers, hard shots, with perhaps the Martini and Manhattan presented as drinks for old Fancy Dans.
Instead, you find in Old Man Drinks as wonderful collection of classic cocktails, the kind of drinks we cocktail geeks love to rediscover and riff upon. Yes, there’s the Arnie Palmer, but the next page has the Aviation (Modern Bar version). For every Cuba Libré, you will find several Ward Eights. Ol’ Harv is there, but so are the Pisco Sour and the Sazerac. There is even a drink called the Grumpy Old Man.
Each recipe is presented with a chatty discussion about the drink, or its history, or it origin.
It is not a comprehensive collection of drinks, but one generally well suited to the theme. A few may not seem on the surface to be Old Man suitable, and the case made for these drinks can be somewhat tortured. I still do not understand why Queen Elizabeth II’s fondness should make the Dubonnet Cocktail an Old Man drink….
The author, Robert Schnakenberg, claims on his website, Schnakworld, to be America’s Most Beloved Author and Raconteur.

Now that’s just silly, Doug!
You are America’s most beloved Raconteur!

Apparently, modesty is a vice both Robert and I have bravely fought off.
The exact extent to which Schnakenberg has been taken to America’s bosom aside, he has a very rich and varied oeuvre. Along with a bunch of youth sports books, some pop histories, and Old Man Drinks, he has titles such as Sci-Fi Baby Names. If that is not enough for the Sci-Fi fans out there, try what must surely be the ultimate compendium of all things awesome: The Encyclopedia Shatnerica: An A to Z Guide to the Man and His Universe

Old Man Drinks is a fun read for any of my readers, but more importantly a great gift/gateway book to give to that guy you know who thinks he’s a beer or wine guy, but you are sure would make a great cocktailian. It is a fun and engaging read that ought to give plenty of incentive to a neophyte mixer to try some of the classics resting therein.

I have been fascinated by the concept of the Brand Ambassador ever since I first encountered the concept. This, despite the fact that I have never (here in the AA minor league cocktail market that is Columbus, OH) actually met such a beast in person. My good blog friend, Jacob Grier, has just become a brand ambassador for Bols Genever out in Portland, Oregon, and that’s as close as this stay-at-home blogger has gotten to this point.
A brand ambassador represents his brand in his territory, or even worldwide. His job is to educate about his client, promote his client, and look out for trouble that may be out there for his client. If it’s minor issues, he may fix it himself. How brand ambassadors do all this, I’ve never been clear on.
A day or so ago, Darcy O’Neil wrote a quick post on a short book he helped edit, entitled A Special Relationship. It is by Philip Duff, a successful brand ambassador himself. Special Relationship is a free e-book, and while it is aimed at industry professionals, particularly bar owners and managers, it contains a wealth of information that, ahem, Power Customers like myself will find illuminating.
Of particular interest to me is Duff’s mention of the man he calls the “ultimate brand ambassador”, Charles Heidsieck. Champagne Charlie, as this adventurous entrepreneur was called in America, was one of the first men to seriously attack the US market with french champagne. First, he was lucky in that he recognized that there was a vast, virtually untapped market for champagne in the young United States. Then, he was unlucky in that his success came just as the Civil War broke out. Then he was really unlucky when his yankee importer used wartime laws to refuse to pay him. Adventurer that Heidsieck was, he traveled to New Orleans where he attempted to collect his debt in the only thing his southern customers had of value, cotton. When he tried to run the Union blockade, his luck got worse and both his ships were sunk. When he tried to get back to France himself, he proved that his luck could get even worse. He was caught carrying letters the Union didn’t like and he was imprisoned for seven months in a POW camp. When he got out, he was destitute and in failing health.
At last, his luck changed back. His yankee creditor’s yankee brother had discovered the cheat and endeavored to repay Heidsieck with some real estate. Since the land he was given ended up being about a third of Denver, Colorado, things soon looked up for Champagne Charlie. He was able to re-open his production and make himself one of the premier champagne houses of the day. You can still get Charles Heidsieck champagne today (it’s not the Piper-Heidsieck), and I for one think it’s pretty fine stuff.
I have a fairly strange connection to Champagne Charlie. I was living in Atlanta in the 80s, when a little biopic simply entitled Champagne Charlie was being filmed there. The wrap party was held in my building, and Maggi and I got to go and drink champagne with the glitterati. I can’t remember if the man who played Champagne Charlie, a then little-known actor by the name of Hugh Grant was there. As far as I remember, there was no swooning on Maggi’s part, so perhaps he was not.
For my part, I was far more impressed by the demonstration they had of sabering the bottles of bubbly.

As you can guess, the film took a few liberties with Chucky’s story. When you have Hugh Grant in your cast, you don’t waste a lot of time with Union prison scenes. You show him swaining around New Orleans, up to his eyeballs in Southern Belles, having a great time drinking his champagne and convincing everyone that they needed to too.
In my research for this post, I have come across convincing evidence that the Hugh Grant, sex appeal-laden version of the story is likely overblown….

Hugh Grant

Not exactly Hugh Grant….

Regardless, Champagne Charlie made a hell of a brand ambassador. He promoted his brand, and opened new markets. He was instrumental in getting Americans to drink champagne. And he certainly made herculean efforts to deal with problems besetting his brand. He probably would have been better if he’d looked like Hugh, but certainly sufficient unto the day.

Via Jacob Grier, who I keep pointing out gives me too many of my blog ideas, we have this non-cocktail related blog idea: List the ten books which have most influenced your world-view, and why.

Here we go:

1. The Lord of the Rings—I’ll have a lot more fiction on my list that others I’ve seen. Tolkien’s book(s) completely changed my life. They utterly remade my expectations of all books, increasing my reading attention span by an order of magnitude. They also raised my expectations of what an author could and should produce. I don’t expect, well, anyone to duplicate Tolkien’s scope, but I find myself utterly brutal in my evaluation when I encounter shallow thought.
   Moreover, LotR instilled a sense of scope and grandeur in my mind-set. For well or weal, I tend to on the one hand look for that grand scale to think about, and on the other to assign a grand scale to whatever interests me….
2. King Lear—Until I read Lear, I never got any of the other Tragedies. I enjoyed MacBeth and Romeo and Juliet, but I didn’t feel them at any visceral level. In fact, I did not ever really feel the painful impact of any serious litt until Lear unlocked something in me.
3. Cocktail: The Drinks Bible for the 21st Century—A fun gift from my wife led to… well… this obsession. Paul Harrington changed my life is some fundamental ways. Whether or not this is a good thing remains open to question….
4. Six Crises—Yep, that’s right. Richard Nixon’s first book is among the most influential upon me. If you have not read anything he wrote, and he wrote a lot, he was a heckuva writer.
5. Accounting Principles—Yep, my first Accounting textbook. I never took Accounting with any intention of being an accountant. I took it as a foreign language. I’ve slogged through a lot of texts beyond this one, and all taught me a number of things, especially how to understand what financial types and bureaucrats are really saying, and how much difference there may be between that and what they seem to be saying.
6. The Gardener’s Palette—My other major creative outlet, sadly neglected these last few years, is gardening. This simple little garden planner unlocked for me the concept that gardens were a creation, that they don’t just happen.
7. How to Make War—To be a responsible citizen in a democracy in a dangerous world (i.e. this one) you need an appreciation of how war works, the pressures it places on societies, what it can and cannot accomplish, and how unbelievably awful it is. If you learn of these issues only from our pop culture, or from pointy-headed, tweed jacketed types in the Ivory Tower, you are not equipped to do your job. This book won’t fully do the job either, but it at least addresses the subject as dispassionately and apolitically as any work out there.
8. The Dungeon Master’s Guide—Seriously. I haven’t played D&D for 22 years, but the endless hours I spent with it when I was young shaped my personality and relationships in so many ways. From D&D, not writing classes, I learned to be a story-teller.
9. The Bible—God knows, I don’t live by it. But I have read most of it at one time or another. There is of course much to learn within its pages, but the most important thing you learn from reading its fascinating, occasionally horrifying, pages is how you personally react to it. Atheist or believer, examine your reaction to this book, and you will learn a lot about yourself.
10. Whatever book it was that led me to a haphazard way of approaching everything in life, especially the creation of lists like this.

Recently I received a copy of the just released book, Japanese Cocktails by Yuri Kato. In a sea of drink books out there, this one is different enough to write about, for several reasons.

The book mixes more than 60 beautifully photographed drinks with short sections on Japan, Japanese culture, and how cocktails inhabit a very different place in the culture of Japan than they do here in the United States. Some of these vignettes are personal experiences of the author, who was born in Japan, but now lives in New York. Others are related to the theme of a particular cocktail, or to the different ingredients in common use in Japanese cocktails. This book is the kind of cocktail book that I refer to as an a la carte drinks book. Each bit is interesting in itself, and while the book is well-organized, there is nothing in it that requires you to read it from start to finish. Instead, you can pick and choose whatever catches your momentary fancy and consume the book in whatever order you like.

The recipes are divided into four sections: Saké drinks, Shochu cocktails, Whiskey cocktails, and other drinks. There is some interesting stuff about the base ingredients here. For instance, I learned that saké is closer to rice beer than rice wine, and I got a chance to begin to understand what this shochu stuff is that I’ve had in my bar for months now. As I said, there are some gorgeous drink photos that do more than please the eye. Not only are Japanese cocktails often made with different ingredients, but they look different in many cases from western traditions. Something I really have enjoyed with this book is expanding my horizons in ways to garnish or serve drinks.

The drink picture I used to illustrate this review is actually one of the more western-style to be found in the book. The drink is called the Black Ship, named in honor of the American naval vessel of Commodore Matthew Perry, whose arrival in Japan forced an end to time of isolation. For two centuries plus, many had tried to bribe their way into the world of Japan, but Perry had the good sense to include a bunch of whiskey in his gifts. Whether this was the deciding factor or not, it can’t have hurt.

The Black Ship is a nice little drink, and it gives a good entry point to examine the subtle differences from ours in the Japanese way of mixology. Buy the book and continue the journey.

(Note: I modified this recipe from that in the book to account for how I personally made it.)

There is only one Beachbum Berry. He is the modern day’s preeminent sage on Tiki history and drink lore. And he appears to be a bit of a natural cult-leader, as most who hear him speak feel compelled to start buying Hawaiian shirts and rum in large quantities, and develop ninja-level knife skills with tropical fruit. Fortunately he employs his powers in bars, rather than in the jungles of Guyana or Washington. (UPDATE: He also uses his powers to send readers here! Welcome Idlers of March to the joint.)
He has written several books over his career that have apparently prevented him from starving to death, and my book purchase for this year’s Tiki Month was one of them, Beachbum Berry’s Grog Log. The Grog Log is a pretty little spiral-bound book that does each of its several jobs well. It begins with a tightly written history of American tropicalia, the forces that created it, and some of the personalities that shaped it. It discusses the market and cultural forces that finally killed Tiki as a commercial fad. Finally, Berry muses on how Tiki can re-emerge as more of a personal, DIY art form. The book was written in 1998, and I would say that all is proceeding as he has foreseen.
The second section is the obligatory, how-to-set-up-your-bar section of virtually any drinks book. The Bum saves this part from perfunctitude with the single best set of descriptions of rum types I have read to date. If all you need is a clear explanation of what the hell drink recipes are talking about when they specify “light Puerto Rican rum”, versus, “Rhum Barbancourt”, versus “gold Jamaican rum”, the Grog Log is worth it for that alone. I’m not saying the rest of the dissertation on measures, methods, and other ingredients aren’t well-done, but the rum section is just so darned… essential for Tiki drink making.
The meat of the book is the recipes. Unearthing and confirming these was not an easy task, and showed a lot of skill and knowledge beyond mixology. Sure, you can look around today and see all sorts of quality Tiki recipes from the old days. You can see them because most of them were unearthed by Beachbum Berry. Any complete bar library ought to have at least one of the Bum’s books. In the Grog Log, he serves up 84 of these historical artifacts.
Each drink is served up, one to a page, with a generous helping of vintage or original drawings or occasional cartoons. Along with an exacting recipe, there are specific mixing instructions and some good historical information on the origin of the drink. (Usually. As with all archaeology, some information is lost forever.)
An especially fun element of the book is the pictographic key at the top of each page. It starts with a picture of a little drunk guy, and you can tell from the extent of his disrepair how strong the drink is going to be. Next is an icon representing what the drink should be served in. Lots of drink books use icons like this, but how many use icons of flaming skull mugs? Lastly, there is an icon for preparation vessel, so you can screen for, or screen out, styles that you just aren’t feeling right now, blender drinks for instance.
At $9.95, the Grog Log is a super investment for the budding Tiki-phile, or even just the Ti-curious. If you’re a book snob and don’t like spiral-bound volumes, you can wait just a short while and buy Beach Bum Berry Remixed, which apparently compiles the recipes from the Grog Log, as well as the Bum’s other early work, Intoxica!, into a new volume. I haven’t seen it, so I can’t say whether it will keep the raw, vintage feel of the Grog Log, and whether it will retain such cool features as flaming skull mug icons. I do mention it here however, becuase it gives me an excuse to end this post with the trailer for the upcoming book.
Wait.
When did they start putting out trailers for books?!?

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

Nine Buddies Boozing,
Eight Barmaids Serving,
Seven Blues a Blazing,
Six Glasses Gleaming,
Five… Golden… Rums!
Four Cocktail Books,
Three French 75s,
Two Jars of Olives,
And a Shaker Full of Martinis!

Attention! After yesterday’s Rule 5 Barmaid Cleavage-stravaganza, I have forced Doug to include equal time for the ladies. See below for your Ninth Day, drinking-themed beefcake!

On the Fourth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

Four Cocktail Books,
Three French 75s,
Two Jars of Olives,
And a Shaker Full of Martinis!

OK. The presents are all opened. The wrapping paper is strewn all over the house. The most expensive toy you bought Junior is neglected in the corner, while he plays with the box. Your spouse was less enthralled than you hoped she would be with her Slanket™.
You need a drink.
And you got a gift card for Christmas.
Let’s go back to that drink, shall we? Go make a Pegu, I’ll wait.
How are you going to put that gift card to good use? Well, this is not likely to be the last time you will need a really good drink. And, since most of you Visigoths out there won’t simply repeat that Pegu above until satisfied, I have a use for that gift card.
In fact, may I suggest that this item is the single most valuable thing any serious cocktail maker can have in his or her home?

What if I got the card?
I don’t actually make the cocktails, I just enjoy them.

Then order this, and give it to your guy. He’ll think he’s getting a supplemental gift, while you will reap the rewards.

The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks, by David Embury, lovingly republished by Greg Boehm’s Mud Puddle Books, is simply the best book ever written on crafting cocktails, full stop.
In many ways, I have learned more about making cocktails from The Fine Art than I have from all the blogging I have done since starting this website.

One of the great things that fuels cocktail blogging is that mixology is an art form which can be practiced at the highest levels by complete amateurs. You don’t need hard to find or expensive tools, nor do you need difficult to acquire training from specialized schools. It is fitting therefore, that this greatest of cocktail books is not written by a bartender, but by a tax lawyer.
In 1948, Embury wrote this bar book unlike any other, aimed entirely at the home mixer who wants to craft better cocktails than he can get in almost any bar, anywhere.

Most cocktail books are basically lists of recipes, sometimes a bewildering list of recipes. Many cocktail books focus on how to set up your bar, the equipment you need, and maybe how to use it. Embury does both of these, but neither is what is remotely important about this book.
Embury includes a truly vast number of recipes in The Fine Art. But he tells you that he is doing this to illustrate that recipes are a double-edged sword. You can have far too many of them (a fact lovingly illustrated by a lot of iPhone apps that either get this, or don’t), and most of them on any large list will be pond water. Embury in fact states baldly that many of the recipes he includes himself are pond water.
The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks will not teach you a lot of great drinks to make. Well, it will, but that is not what it is about. If you read and absorb the first half of this book, and you have good taste and a sense of adventure, you won’t really ever need another bar book at all. Because the real title of this book should be The Fine Art of Creating Drinks.

Embury presents that sea of recipes so that he can break them down to show how similar many of them are. Then he shows the basic formulae of each class of drink. Finally, he discusses how you can then take the ingredients you have on hand, match them with the style of cocktail you want to make, and create your own drink that will likely suit your own tastes better than any recipe, no matter how exactingly you were to follow it. Similarly, you can use this information to modify existing recipes to meet your taste, or to work with the ingredients you have.
Read Embury, absorb Embury, and you will know more about making cocktails than most of the bartenders on Earth.

Not that it matters, but the book is not perfect. Embury’s discussion of brands, based on 1948 offerings, is dated at best. Many of these brands hold little resemblance to their modern counterparts. His understanding and description of vodka is particularly entertainingly out of date. And the last third of the book is a sea of those “example” recipes, largely unreadable and almost pointless if you’ve buckled down at the start.

But those quibbles are irrelevant. Not only is the knowledge imparted in the meat of the book invaluable, but it is presented with exceptional clarity and readability.

Wait.
I thought you said the guy was a lawyer?

Lawyers who write in a clear, entertaining manner do exist, you know.
If you love mixing cocktails, you will absolutely love this book. It will live by your bedside while you absorb it, then take a place of prominence from then on on your bar or in its library. Get out that gift card, order it (check the buying options), and make a New Year’s Resolution to make no more mediocre drinks!

The Liquor Fairy Was Here!
The following product, The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks, by David Embury, was recently provided to me as promotional consideration to encourage me to discuss it.
For a complete disclosure of my policies regarding promotional items and all other financial interests, please click this link, or follow the Liquor Fairy link in the header of this page.