Home Bar: "Bonnie Mason"

It's floating in the low 80s in Los Angeles, but in about two weeks the levee is going to burst and it's going to bump the daytime high about 20 degrees. So that you're ready, here is a life preserver:

The Bonnie Mason

This here is a summer drink if ever one was invented. Did you just mow the lawn? Come back from a bike ride? Maybe you spent a long, hard day graphic-designing. This drink is the medicine that will cure you.

YOU WILL REQUIRE:

Shaker

Muddler

Ice

IT INCLUDES:

2 oz bourbon

1 scoop apricot preserves

Soda water

Lemon

In Detail:

Take a good spoonful of the preserves and drop it into the shaker. To this, add the bourbon, a squirt of soda water, and a squeeze of lemon. Muddle these things together. Top with ice and shake violently, the ice will help with breaking up and incorporating the preserves. Pour into a chilled old-fashioned glass and top with more soda water (ice too, if necessary). Garnish, sit down, put the cold glass on your forehead for a moment, then enjoy.

Notes:

I got the idea of using preserves from my friend Peter who uses rindless marmalade in one of his concoctions. Don't use too much lemon in this drink, maybe a half-ounce, but go light; the lemon is intended to brighten the drink, not to sour it. For preserves, home-canned is best (naturally). I usually use a store brand that doesn't have high fructose corn syrup. Substituting the bourbon for rye is fine, same with soda water for branch water. The kicker here is that the preserves, upon shaking, will congeal to form little chunks and sink to the bottom of the glass. When you're done with the drink, they will be waiting there for you. You don't have to serve this in an old jelly jar, but... Dammit, yes. You have to serve this in an old jelly jar. There, I said it.

Dress like this - A segment for ladies.

I make no claims to understand the nuances of ladies' fashion. All I know is that, if you are a woman, you should adorn yourself thusly:

(Taken straight up from Sanforized)

Please note the high-rise jeans. Bangs are strongly encouraged, cigarettes are optional. 

Old-timey fix for the day.

The Carolina Chocolate Drops covered this song, but there doesn't seem to be a youtube version worth a damn. What, you ain't heard of the Carolina Chocolate Drops? Do allow me:



That's real good.

D.

Please drink responsibly.

Getting it as wrong as you possibly can be getting it: "Capitan Morgan Lime Bite~!@" Your standard vanilla-flavored Capitan, with the caramel coloring replaced with lime flavorz! Seems innocuous, considering the ubiquity of lime-flavored beverages on the market today, but tell me your thoughts after viewing the following:



This probably would have slipped by as a quiet blip on my hate radar if it weren't for "Brochacho." Advertisers are no strangers to the abuse of morphemes (Now 'n' Later, I see you with your radberry/tingleberry/hulaberry twaddle), but Bro-chacho?

It gets worse with another commercial that encourages you to add the rum to your beer because the "ridiculuicious" flavor will make it "deliciouser," "brohemoth!"

Gentlemen, Ladies, please drink responsibly. Drink your booze with cola if you want, but use limes.

Accoutre: The Bandana

Accoutre |əˈkudər| - To cloth or equip, typically with something noticeable or impressive. ORIGIN mid 16th cent.: from French accoutrer, from Old French acoustrer, from a- (from Latin ad ‘to, at’ ) + cousture ‘sewing’.

This section of CBBS will be devoted to personal effects and wanton consumerism with the ultimate goal of maintaining proper dress. It's easy for country folk to get overwhelmed by the glitz of big city, often ending up in square-toed shoes and rhinestoned shirts. That's no way for any person to present themselves, country or city or otherwise. This first installment is about something simple and often overlooked: The Bandana.

(Life archives)

Admittedly, most of us don't have jobs that keep us in a coal mine, or require us to do stoop-down work out in a field somewhere. That shouldn't be a reason not to have one of these on your person at all times. If the fact that Grandad wouldn't be caught dead without one isn't a convincing enough reason to make this part of your EDC (hard to fathom), here's a few reasons more why you oughta give one of these a shot:

• Drip some coffee or carbonated beverage onto your laptop? Fuck a genius bar, the solution is right in your back pocket. 
• Itchy, watery eyes in the springtime. I'm not about to carry a box of kleenex in my jeans.
• A man is going to sweat and sneeze. It's either this or your sleeve.
• Air hand-dryers.

Do it for a week, you're sure to say to yourself, "I never knew how useful this thing could be until I started carrying it!" For you who are more sartorially minded, that little line of color sticking out of your back pocket is nice addition (See some of the dudes at Denim Debate for fine examples of this).

Now, you got options.

Nothing at all bad to say about these ones. Polly/cotton, get them at the J.C.Penny, pack of five run you ~12 bucks. That's a value that even grandad can get behind. Technically, these are handkerchiefs. Bigger than pocket squares, smaller than bandanas. You'd be hard-pressed to tie one around your head, but it'll carry the weight of any other task you put it up to. 

Next are your standard paisley bandanas--get them cheaply at the dickies outlet. The one you see in the masthead is mine. Made in the USA, and worn in so perfectly that it's softer than any tissue. Downside: You walk around with one of these dangling and people are likely to have suspicions about your bedroom practices; Those in-the-know about the code might misinterpret my maroon bandanna as a signal that I enjoy two-handed anal fisting.

Finally, if you want to make an investment in a bandana that will age nicely and last for years without falling to pieces, you can't go wrong with The Hill-Side. Pocket squares, handkerchiefs, bandannas, and other American-made garments with classy japanese selvedge chambray. These are a little larger than a standard bandana, which means you'll be able to hold more if your financial circumstance requires you to use a bindle as your primary storage device. Don't tell Grandad what you payed for it or he'll give you a lecture about how you'll be bindling sooner than later. 

The red one is appealing (if you like fisting), but I opted for the hickory stripe (also in the masthead). I got it from a real nice menswear shop in LA called Craft on La Cienega. A cool, no-bullshit place that carries the kind of goods you buy once and have forever--Friendly staff too. If you intend to use your bandana as an accessory as well as a tool, you might consider the tri-color number they had made up special for their store. Pick the color that matches your kit and fold it that-side out. Pretty clever.

(Photo from craftworkwear.blogspot.com)

Serious now, do it for a week and let me know your thoughts.

Your old-timey fix for the day.

Don't hear too much clawhammer banjo in popular music these days. Shame, really.

P.S. Oh god, the widescreen format killed my blog!

A gift.

Got a package the other day from Andrea, a dear friend in ST. Louis. Hadn't imagined getting anything like this when she said "expect a parsel".


Hand-drawn and sewn.


Tracklist.


The envelope had a little blue loop of thread around the button (which was also sewn, not glued) to keep it closed. I accidentally broke it off when I opened it. In all fairness, the package warned me to handle gingerly.

The title of the mix CD, like the title of the blog, will be explained in an upcoming post. Until then, thank you to Andrea for the very fine gift.

D.

Get It Right: The Manhattan.

There is quite a lot to be said for innovation and improvisation when a night of slinging drinks finds you with a dearth of ingredients and a group of guests expecting a deluge of booze. These "Cocktail Impossible" scenarios have resulted in some very fine beverages indeed.

However, it's still important to know the basics––those cornerstone beverages called upon by the people of your grandparents' generation when they wanted to get sloshed. In that spirit, I present to you...


Get It Right: The Manhattan.

There is much to be said about the history and cultural significance of The Manhattan. Just think, every one of these men has had the beverage you're about to craft.

(One of these guys is my Dad.)

I like to keep the (If I may borrow the nomenclature from The Great Alton Himself) hardware and software on hand at all times, which isn't a chore considering their multitudinous applications in the kitchen. I've tried a number of different recipes for this drink, none that fit the taste of a manhattan I remember from my recent visit to New York, so I've pieced this together mostly from trial and error.

YOU WILL REQUIRE:
A large vessel in which to stir the beverage.
A bar spoon.
A strainer.
A stemmed glass.
Ice (functioning more as hardware than software here).

IT CONTAINS:
2 oz. Rye Whiskey.
½ oz. Sweet Red Vermooth.
Angostura bitters.
Sugar Cube.

IN DETAIL:
1. I use a sugar cube for this instead of simple syrup because the vermouth provides a lot of sweetness on its own; The sugar won't fully dissolve in cold water so the flavor it imparts is subtle. Saturate a single sugar cube with Angostura. Here is the technique I submit to you, after having seen it performed by an expert bartender named Mark on the island for which this beverage was named...

Angostura bottles have a little rim on the spout, perhaps designed with this technique in mind? Place your sugar cube atop the spout and invert the bottle until the sugar is totally saturated––Careful not to crush it in the process.

Place the saturated cube into your vessel. Depending on your tastes, you may choose to add more bitters. I feel that this is enough, but you could add anywhere from 3-7 more dashes. Keep in mind that more bitters in this drink, the less you'll be able to taste the rye. That can be good or bad depending on the individual, but that's a topic for another post. Mash the cube now with your bar spoon or muddler if you have it.

2.Next, the vermouth. I use Noilly Prat at home, but the best manhattans I've ever had were made with one called Antica––so fine that you could drink it by itself and have no complaints.

3. 2 oz Rye Whiskey. Some recipes call for Canadian Whiskey in a manhattan. Use rye. Old Overholt is fine (~$16), but you could do better if you want to spend the money.

4. Now, crack the ice--A lot of ice, and crack it well. This is a stirred beverage and ice with more surface area will make for better chilling. A good handfull will do. Place the ice in the vessel and stir vigorously. Stirred drinks require quite a lot more time to cool than shaken drinks, and since this one includes sugar in a solid form, you'll need to stir it for about as long as it takes you to sing the first verse and chorus of The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Go ahead and do that while you stir. Any water that comes off the ice will help the other ingredients fuse together. If the ice melts entirely, add more and continue.

5. When you conclude the last throaty bars, strain the drink into a chilled up glass. Garnish. Always garnish. Traditionally, the recipe calls for a maraschino cherry. The real ones are nice, but the ones you get at the grocery store are execrable. The only recommendation about them I can make is that you stay away. Since it's more likely that you'll have citrus fruit lying around than a 20 dollar bottle of cherries, garnish with a strip of lemon or orange zest––I know I do. If you wish to impress the end-user of this beverage, go ahead and ignite the oil in the rind with a match, but make sure you do it in front of them because it's almost pointless unless they get to see the flames.

There. Now drink this drink and remember that your great-grandad used to work backbreaking job, 12 hours a day, to raise a family on a salary that's less that what you spend a month on your cell phone bill. If you were to meet him today, however, he wouldn't be ashamed at your baby-soft hands or poor work ethic. No sir, because you'd make him one of these suckers and impress upon him that his descendant knows a thing or two. He'd tell you that you got it right.


(My actual great-grandad. For the record, though, I'm sure he would have tanned my hide if he knew I wasted a whole match on making a got-damn cocktail.)

It's so pure it hurts!

I'd be in dereliction of duty if I mentioned old timey music without a nod to Mr. Show. Note that David Cross also plays an audiophile in Ghost World.




Thank you!

D.

Old Time Radio

I remember, when I first saw the movie Ghost World, thinking how cool Seymour was. I keep that soundtrack, along with the O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack in heavy rotation to this day––always wanting to expand my collection, but reluctant to purchase any of the "NOW! That's what I call RAGTIME" compilations (Though I hear that Vol. 9 is a real hoot). It only recently occurred to me that there has to be an army of real life Seymours out there collecting 78s and wax cylinders. At least one of them must have smashed the lossless paradigm and ripped his collection for internet streaming. A quick search on the Google led me to these:



Radio Dismuke.
A collection of music from the early 1900s. Primarily 20s-30s pop and jazz. There are even a few old timey commercials now and again that really set the mood. The only drawback is that he occasionally chimes in (in actuality, I believe it's a vibraphone that he's using) with a plug for the website. Respectable, and, considering the quality of the music, its an anachronism I can live with.



Sugar In The Gourd.
A fine mix of old time mountain music. Enough ban-jer, gee-tar, fiddle to keep you stompin' for days. The proprietor occasionally throws in modern bands who strive to replicate this old sound. No station ID here to jar you back into the modern era either. Clearly the best feature of Sugar In The Gourd is the live-updating song history; 20 entries long featuring artist, song, and album, along with a link to where you can buy the CD if you are so inclined.



Two fine websites to keep you feeling old-timey until the hereafter.

Thank you, Stanleys.
D.

Home Bar: Blood Royal

As promised, a cocktail recipe featuring the home grenadine.



This recipe is for two cocktails, but can be halved for those of you sad individuals who prefer to drink alone––but in that case, why not make both anyway? What else were you going to do with your evening?


"Blood Royal"
YOU WILL REQUIRE:
A shaker (Boston if you're a pro).

IT INCLUDES:
The juice of 1 lemon (~2 ounces).
The white of 1 egg.
~4 dashes Angostura (Feel free to get creative here).
2 ounces of home grenadine (less if you prefer).
3 ounces of dry gin.

Shake enthusiastically to create an attractive foam. Strain into up glasses and garnish with lemon peel.

The beverage is, essentially, a gin fizz that I modeled on the Fitzgerald, replacing simple syrup with grenadine and adding egg white to give the drink body. Now, go body the drink.

D.

I finally get it

You know, for a long time I didn't really understand Tom Waits. Now, I think I do.



also this



D.

Reduction Introduction

For some time now I've been piecing together the essential constituents of a home bar. I firmly believe that drink, like food, is best constructed in a way that highlights the qualities of simple ingredients. You can go to some of the finest bars in LA and spend all night tipping rococo libations made with rarest liquors of the Mysterious East––and I will, gladly (my penny pinching tendencies, however, are too powerful to allow this with any regularity). I'm all for amassing a collection of rare ingredients for a home bar, but for now I start with the basics.

Grenadine.

Alton Brown has a recipe for a grenadine and grenadine molasses that I find to be quite enjoyable. (http://bit.ly/ZOC2a)

Four cups of juice is two of the two-lobed Pom bottles, which is what I used. Total cost was just under $4 for this, plus cost of sugar, which I already had. If you bought this grenadine, made with real sugar and 100% fruit juice, I'm sure you'd be shelling out in the neighborhood of ≥15 bucks. The photo above is what was left after a night of slinging drinks. I can't advise storing this stuff in anything other than an old whisky bottle, but use a mason jar if you must.

Orange Molasses made by the same process.

Keep in mind that the molasses is stronger in concentration. This is beneficial for two reasons:

1) You need less of it to impart the pomegranate flavor into a cocktail -- This is important if you're using traditional sized cocktail glasses with limited storage capacity.

2) It lasts longer in the fridge.

Y'all hold tight, I have some original cocktail recipes forthcoming.

D.