Cocktail-style Tiki drinks really have ended up being the central theme of exploration this Tiki Month, and here is another: The Captain’s Blood. Of course, both in name and in flavor, the Captain’s blood is more Pirate than Polynesian, but I’ll allow it. After all, pirate stuff has a long association with Tiki, just as spy-themed music and paraphernalia do. And Tiki’s patron saints, Don the Beachcomber and Trader Vic, were really pirates in all but the name. (They also omitted the bad hygiene and most of the old ultra-violence, but let’s not quibble)

There are all sorts of recipes for Captain’s Blood on the web, and aside from all pretty much containing rum, lime of some fashion, and usually bitters of some type, there seems to be no definitive recipe. I suspect that this is one of those drinks with a great name that has been reverse engineered from the memory of the taste countless times, and for which we shall never find a rock-solid origin or original formulation. I went with the one of CocktailDB, which has propagated the farthest on the web and which is the most nearly Tiki in character. I made two amendments, which I will explain.

The original CocktaiDB recipe calls for one dash of Angostura and a half teaspoon of sugar (roughly 1 tsp simple syrup). That result I found to be too thin, even sour, in flavor, especially if you are looking for a Tiki, or at least a Tiki Compliant, cocktail.
Increasing the bitters demonstrates that great, largely unappreciated by the masses, cocktail truth: Bitters in small amounts don’t increase the bitterness of a drink, they knock the edges off other outsize flavor elements instead. In this case, the extra bitters just sands down the sourness of the lime and falernum without hiding the underlying flavorful goodness.
I got the idea for the honey mix from Rumdood’s old post on homemade falernum. It was my choice to up the amount. I like the melding of the flavors resulting from the added sweetness, and the honey also gives a tiny bit of additional complexity. But make no mistake, this remains a tart drink. The honey also gives a tiny bit richer body to the cocktail, which I like as well. Next time I try it, I may even replace the honey mix with gomme syrup, to see how far I can take that effect.

The suggestion for this Tiki Month post from Jason McGrady, who presides over the mahogany at Sazerac Restaurant in the Hotel Monaco in Seattle, where Maggi and I stayed two Summers ago. What’s that? Yes, I keep in touch with bartenders I haven’t seen in two years. I keep track of an incredible number of good bartenders around the world whom I seldom actually see. You never know when I am going to have a sudden need for an agent to do me a favor and make me a good drink. I’m like the Shadow that way.

“Someday, bartender, I will need a Manhattan from you….”
Source: Alex Sheikman

And hey! This post is part of Tiki Month 2013 here at the Pegu Blog! Be sure to look around for LOTS more Tiki stuff all February!

Vote for Matt Robold (Rumdood) to be Tommy Bahama’s first Rumologist™. Once a day will make you feel great.
{Pictured above: NOT Matt Robold}

It has been nearly a year since I’ve given Matt “Rumdood” Robold any grief on these pages. This sort of neglect is what happens when I have actual interesting things to write about here.

You think that what you write is interesting?
Really?

Well, no. But entire tens of people read this blog, so I soldier on.
And in the interest of the new Rule 2 Project, I’d like to note that Matt has posted an entertaining read about a cocktail that is perhaps the entire historical arc of Tiki in a specially shaped glass. The Rule 2 Work this month is aimed at Tiki posts by non-Tiki-bloggers, and since Matt is infamously not a Tiki-blogger, here you go.
Matt seems to be a sucker for grand old drinks that once were awesome and now are usually, um… not Scottish. His rants about trying to get a decent Daiquiri or Mai Tai in a restaurant are the stuff of mild amusement legend.
Matt’s target this month is the wonder and horror that is the Hurricane. It is a good read, so I won’t bother teasing it with stolen pictures or his recipe. I’ll just leave you with this quote:

Of course, as the drink has become corrupted over the years, the variations of the recipe have multiplied like rabbits set loose in a Viagra factory.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Not really. But Matt’s had this conversation a hundred times, and probably told the tale a thousand.
I just wanted him to have a shortcut from now on. You are welcome, Matt.

Dude, I mean Dood, you are writing on my wall.

Curse you!
It’s the only way I can record my incarceration.
Let me log out, you vile cur!

Hey, it’s your fault, Mai Tai Boy!
You got me hooked on this drink, and I’m out of the Extra Old.
I need more ways to make great Mai Tais. Work your blendy magic for me, and I’ll release you.

What?
But I have! I have caused the web to be flooded with Mai Tai blends.

Huh? Where?

Don’t you check your own RSS reader?
I snuck out my notes via carrier rat. You can see my post on my blog.
I’ve given you a whole damn Month of Mai Tais! Now let me out!

Huh. I’ll have to look at that….

Look at it?!?
Tiare, who never gave up on me, has posted a Month of Mai Tai’s too!
Let me out!

Kewl. Though I seem to remember that Rick and Blair….

They’re on it! I promise.
Let me log out, and I’ll go pester them. But if you don’t let me out soon, I’ll fade away forever. Just look at me!

You do look crummy.
Tell you what, you’ve done well. Here’s a Mai Tai made with my last reserved XO.

Oh God!
[gulp] [gulp]
What am I doing?
[sip] [sip]

Ah! Thank you!
May I log out now?

Yes please. You are cluttering up my blog with irrelevant, silly posts that do nothing for my august reputation as a serious cocktailscienti.

[RUMDOOD HAS LOGGED OUT]

Oh, and Dood, congratulations on the 2008 Food Blog Award!

Hmmm. I really do like the whole Mai Tai experience, top to bottom. Perhaps I should look into the area of cocktails further…..

There is a blogger named Michael Bauer at SFGate.com who put up a post a short while ago expressing irritation at the way some San Francisco restaurants handle their cocktail menus. It’s a short, throwaway post, but it has ignited a very entertaining flamewar in the comments. The best flamewar, in fact, that I’ve seen in a cocktail post, evar. (H/T: OH Group)
There are some wine snob commenters that are epically in need of correction in this post, particularly a twit named crypled2. I call on the assembled hordes of the cocktailosphere to get over there and turn this flameware up to eleven.
I particularly think this up your alley, Nerd.

Ahem,
You want me?

Gabe! Run!
He’ll get you too!

Rumdood,
you’re still stuck in here?

Fly you fool!
He comes…

Gabriel, so good to see you.

Yikes!
[cocktailnerd has punked out]

See you later, Gabe! Just make sure you go pound those wine idiots!
And as for you, mister….

Help…
me…
please!

I’m betting I’m the first around this segment of the blogosphere to do a review of Golden Grain. For those of you unfamiliar with it, Golden Grain Alcohol is grain neutral spirits and damn little else. If you haven’t heard of Golden Grain, you probably have heard of its competitor, Everclear. I put competitor in quotes, since both are made by the same company, Luxco of St. Louis, MO. I’d make fun of Luxco for having two brands for what can only be the same stuff, except Luxco, if you read or care about the business pages, seems to have the distinction of being the only American distiller with a wide range of brands (57 by my count) that is still actually owned by Americans. So they (sort of) get a pass. If you haven’t heard of Golden Grain, or have never seen it, it is because it is illegal in many states.
I believe that you can tell a lot about your state by whether you can get the Grain there. There is an eternal struggle between all governments and the governed, about who knows better about… well… anything. The government, every government, is filled with people who want to prevent you from smoking, driving without a seatbelt, letting your kids play with lawn darts, driving after even one drink, skiing without a helmet, letting your kids even see the Sun without SPF 50, gambling (except the lottery), and having a side of fries. If you can buy the Grain in your state, the citizenry still holds out the quaint idea it knows more about how to live its life than the state. If you can’t buy the Grain, the terrorists government has already won, so sell your McDonald’s franchise.
As I said, the Grain is grain neutral spirits—190 proof grain neutral spirits. It is rocket fuel/high explosives in a bottle that implies by its appearance that it is a beverage. This is why it gives bureaucrats hives. When I was down visiting Georgia (Grain-legal) from Ohio (Grain-banned), I had reason to pick up a flask.

Why?
Seriously, why? Don’t you dial 911 before you drink that stuff, just to save time?

Good Lord, you don’t drink it! Not straight, unless you want to die. And the overwhelming majority of cocktails made with it are undrinkable messes with names like:

• Jungle Juice
• Flaming Blow Job
• The Alpha Gamma Rho Panty Dropper
• The Screaming Purple Jesus
• Real Romulan Ale
• The Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster #3
• and Instant Death

If you know anyone you care for who drinks any of these, or hundreds like them, buy them this book. Today.

You wanted to write this post, just to put in all those names, didn’t you?

The idea had some appeal, but no that wasn’t the real reason.
First off, the flask of Golden Grain was an emergency purchase. Yes, Golden Grain usually causes emergencies, seldom solving them. But I am a responsible adult, not a Darwin Award contender who drinks Mind Slicers. However, I did drip queso sauce on my favorite pink tie.

Sorry, Mr. Adult. I guess that you still need a bib, dontcha? Bummer about the tie though.

The PeguWife was not letting my tie go down without a fight. With no access to a dry cleaner, and another occasion where I would need said tie looming, the tie had to be cleaned. I was dispatched to The Still to buy some Golden Grain.

Wait a minute.
Alcohol really stains!

Actually, no. Alcohol is a great solvent, that evaporates off silk with little or no trace afterward. It’s the water, even in pure liquors like vodka, that does the staining. The Grain is 95% pure alcohol. There’s precious little room for that staining water. With a batch of Q-Tips, and a capful of Golden Grain, Maggi salvaged my very expensive tie in no time. And it looks great.

And ten bucks will get you enough Golden Grain to clean as much silk as twenty home dry-cleaning kits. You’ll be happy, and clean, for life!
But wait! There’s more!

A recent Mixology Monday, Made from Scratch (hosted by some idiotic backwater blog) had lots of recipes for syrups and cordials to make and use in your cocktails. These are usually made in huge batches that, if you used up while fresh, would require the same 911 call as sucking down a couple of Tucker Death Mixes. In most cases, a small amount of high-proof vodka is called for to stabilize the ingredient and give it some shelf life. Golden Grain is an even better choice. You use less, and therefore it’s less likely to dilute or throw off the texture of your housemade grenadine, or even simple syrup.

Sure it’s simple. The best things in life are simple. Like homemade Grenadine. With Golden Grain as a preservative, you’ll always have fabulous grenadine on hand. And you’ll be happy!
But wait! There’s more!

The Shamwow guy? Really?
And what’s with this post? Cleaning hints and preservatives? Introduced by Vice and his Slap Chop? What is this now, Heloise’s Blog?

Ha! Stand back, Guy. Here comes the cocktail portion of this mess.
As Maggi was assiduously working to save my tie, I was packing up my new traveling kit. The chief problem, as I saw it, was room for enough booze to really put on a show. I take a backseat to no man in feeling that Pegus should be enough for everyone, but there are still pockets of resistance out there, particularly among vodka drinkers. But I had no space for a big, honking bottle of Sobieski.
I turned and looked back at Maggi and saw on the counter beside her…. vodka concentrate!

…?!

…!?

Yes, vodka concentrate.
What is vodka? It is grain neutral spirits, diluted with water to a drinkable proof.

Hey you!
You just got distilled water in my Golden Grain!

No way!
You got Golden Grain in my distilled water!

Why yes, Dear Reader, I am having a complete psychotic break. Why do you ask?

No reason.
No reason at all.

OK, in all seriousness, I wanted to try this experiment. What would happen if I mixed the Grain and distilled water? Would I get vodka?
After an embarrassingly long time struggling with my math, I figured that 1.25 ounces of Golden Grain, mixed with 1.75 ounces of distilled water should make for 80 proof… something. This took about two minutes to execute, and I was soon shaking up two Vodka Montgomerys, one with Chopin, and one from vodka concentrate.
The results? The Chopin was an easy winner. It was significantly more viscous, with a broader, longer lasting taste in the mouth. Simply put, there is enough character there to give (someone who thinks they are a) cocktail snob something to hang their hat on.
But the concentrate wasn’t bad. It was at least as good as some well brands, maybe better. There were none of the nasty flavors or impurities that you often get in cheap Vodka. I’d never serve someone a Martini made with this (unless I really wanted to expose them as a poser), but I could easily whip up a Kamikaze, or even a Cosmo using the concentrate. The Grain stays in the travel kit.
But not the giant gallon of distilled water! What is the perfect way to mix up a batch of GG Concentrate? Why, I have it right here:

Now, what do we call this brand made from a kid’s juicebox filled with water and hobo killer? There can be only one choice. With a tip of the hat to my favorite conservative, filthy-minded, moron blogger, Ace of Spades, I give you:

Ace-O-Lanche! UPDATE-Welcome Morons! Take a look around this alcoholic corner of the blogosphere. I’ve got posts on aphrodisiac liqueurs, creative liquor ads, a whole series on building your own Basement Bar/Hobo-hunting base, and I’m holding another cocktail blogger prisoner around here somewhere….

Seriously Dood. Why are still hanging around my blog?

What? Why?
You won’t let me go! Just log me out, for the love of both Wray and Nephew!

Oh yeah, that’s right. I am keeping you here.

Sorry about that, but you can’t leave just yet.

Please!
It’s been six days!
Why do keep me here?

Because of Mai Tais.

But you love them!
I see you mixing them every other day or so. I sometimes get a peek through the mortar between the stones.

I know. But you speak of ways to make them better. You say I can mix rums and get greater heights of complexity and deliciousness. And you are making me wait. When you and your conspirators release your roundup of Mai Tai rum blends on the 26th, I shall be satisfied. Only then may you go.

How can I do my post if you hold me here?
Here, in this wasteland of liquor?
I search the cabinets and counters, which are scattered with bottles. There is a forest of Gins everywhere. The water fountains run orange-pink with cursed Pegus.
I barely maintain my sanity. You will get nothing from me! I’ll never talk.

Come now. We can make a deal. I appreciate your desire to get back to your own avatar.
You will take the ingredients I have brought you, and you will build me a bottle Orgeat. A great and powerful bottle of Orgeat. Then you may go.

No. I’ll never do it!
Make your own damn Orgeat.

Why do you resist? It should be a matter of no difficulty for such an august Tiki Blogger as yourself.

I
Am
Not
A
Tiki
Blogger!!!!!

Suit yourself. Try to stay out of my other posts. Your plaintive cries are disturbing the other readers.

{My Hostage Journal, by RumDood}

Day Five. The Mount Gay is gone. All of it! I am left with the dregs of several bottles of the Bat-Beverage. My powers weaken, you can tell from my avatar. I have not looked so ill since my collection reached fifty rums!

…

I must have Demerara!

…

He is watching me constantly. I feel his eyes on me now.

When he isn’t looking, I pour Val-U-Rite into his Belvedere bottle.

…

It is later. I found a bottle of Ultimat Vodka. I filled it too with Val-U-Rite.

He has a lot of Vodka, the fiend!

Why am I here? Why won’t he let me go?

…

Ah ha! His offspring left their used waffle plates where I can reach them. There is a thick scum of Maple Syrup to use. I’ll use these packs of Splenda I have in my pocket….
The rats ate the old pineapple he left me, but the rind is here!
I fashion a crude still and cook over the bare lightbulb that provides my only illumination!
Voila! Demerara! I can last another day.

…

I hope.

I can’t get out!

I wander the labyrinth, keeping track only with scrawled marks on the wall. Why did I enter this Gin-soaked Hell?

I thirst. There are only four rums to be found here. Four! And now the Mount Gay Extra Old runs low.
My powers are weakened by the deprivation.

If I don’t get out soon, I’ll die. Or worse, be forced to consume Vodka!

Pray for me. Or better yet, make him let me out!