As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a fan of guilty pleasures. I refuse myself as little as possible in life and, occasionally, this leads to make drinks that, shall we say, I would be ashamed to serve my high school girlfriend’s sorority-loving sister. And, about once-a-year, that means the Horny Monkey. This is a Pina Colada gone horribly wrong, and that’s saying something.

The malevolent forces that align to drive me into the arms of the Horny Monkey tend to fall out like this:

1. It’s late, very late
2. I’m drunk, very drunk
3. It’s Summer
4. I’m looking for a combination of alcohol and sugar shock to stay awake
5. There are no manly men present.

So, should you find yourself in this scenario, your demise goes something like this:
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Like Jeffrey Morgenthaler I really dislike Vodka on general principle; it’s Gin without pants on wearing tighty-whiteys, a party no one shows up for, a bar with flourescent lighting, and only people who think Greedo shooting first and replacing the Force-Ghost of Anakin at the end of RotJ with that Rat-tailed assface was an improvement should drink it. I recently read a book that said bascially, take any drink using vodka, replace it with gin, and you’ll have a much improved drink. And generally, I agree (except for the Moscow Mule – gin just makes it fussy).

So, all that being said and now that you and I understand one another, when a marketing firm, distributor, or producer contacts me with a request to try a sample, and it’s vodka, I usually decline. However, with ‘Pinky’ vodka, that it’s infused with roses and violets along with other botanicals caught my attention, especially given my pursuit, capture, and subsequent love of Creme de Violette anything with violet overtones was welcome. Read More »

First of all, a guilty confession; for several months I couldn’t make this drink. No, we’re not to the guilty part yet…wait for it. I couldn’t make this drink because I couldn’t find Ginger Beer…nope, still not there; that’s not out-of-the-ordinary, not being able to find an ingredient in Oklahoma. In fact, I was ranting and raging against the blasted unfairness of Oklahoma’s limited and paltry ability to provide my senses the required tantilizing ingredients for perfection (see: maraschino liqueur, rhum agricole, pisco, falernum, cold beer, decent local wines, et al), ‘I reeeeeaaaalllly want to try this drink, but NOOOOOoooooo, Oklahoma doesn’t CARRY ginger beer in its liquor stores! Stupid Oklahoma!’ I whined, the kids staring forlornly at their mishap of a father. Mind you, Joana sat there quietly minding my tilting at windmills when she finally realizes what I’m on about and sweetly says, ‘Hon, ginger beer is like root beer, they carry it in grocery stores, not liquor stores…’ Jeezy creezy, what’s a boy to do with his god-given right to moral outrage in the face of logic like that, eh?

Alright…fine.

A trip to the grocery store later I’m stocked with Ginger Beer (though it wasn’t until one of my Denver cavortations that I found Reed’s Ginger Beer) and ready to tackle this classic drink. Read More »

First of all, my many sincere thanks to Jay at Oh Gosh! Who essentially co-wrote this post and has first-hand experience with Zubrowka in Poland that he was generous enough to share. If you haven’t visited his site yet, I highly recommend it. It’s attractive, informative, action-packed, and smells minty fresh with a hint of lemon zest.

Now, there is a whole byzantine backstory with Żubrówka and its brand, trade, and patent rights for export from the EU (what is the deal with vodka and trenchant legal issues? sheesh) which you can read about here, but that’s not nearly as much fun as discussing the spirit itself. Simply put, Żubrówka (roughly translated as ‘Bison Grass Vodka’) is a style of vodka, traditionally distilled from rye, that is infused with a tincture of bison grass found in the Białowieża Forest in eastern Poland and western Belarus (see fancy graphic at right). And technically, the use of this grass is the only method of creating a true Żubrówka vodka. Żubrówka came about during the 16^th century because Polish distillers had a rough time covering up some of the less pleasant qualities of their product, and much like the Pontiac Fiero, they dressed it up a bit with a flashy native tincture to make it palatable (or in the case of the Fiero, allowed owners to overlook their obvious draw to a death trap of an automobile). It first became massively popular for two reasons:

1. The Polish royalty loved this shit and would request in hunting lodges as they traveled throughout northeastern Poland. And, where the royalties’, or the rich’s, tastes go, so do the peasantry’s. (see: big stupid ridiculously oversized sunglasses on waifish girls for a recent development of this nature)
2. In the 17^th century, J.A. Baczewski Liquor and Liqueur Distillery first mass produced it. And Poland was thirsty. Read More »

“UV Lemonade”, eh? And it’s pink…hmmmmmm, a boy’s tempted to stop accepting samples from companies at this rate. It’s like they’re subtly implying, ‘It’s ok, we sent it in plain-brown-paper packing… No one has to know what a little sorority girl you are inside…’ Hmph, okay then, ‘Little girl self, let’s do this!’

And do it we did. The first thing I wanted to do in sampling this product was test it against a known quantity. And as you can see from the picture on the right, known quantity; thy name is Skyy Citrus! Skyy Citrus is what I use for my Cosmopolitans and little else. It does a fair job and I’ve not really given it much thought, but now it’s got a contender; a new lass in town ready to take it to the mat. So, how does my crusty, dusty, and heavy blue bottle hold up to the pink lady of ultraviolet trendiness? It doesn’t. Drinking them both neat, UV Lemonade has a much cleaner, crisper, and truer “lemon” flavor than Skyy. Skyy Citrus came across as extremely dry, and not in a good way. It was harsh with a chemical timbre where UV Lemonade is sweeter but also cleans and leaves the palate in a way you appreciate; unlike the Skyy which leaves your tongue feeling like The Joker after a good bath in a warehouse. This, I was not expecting. Read More »

After writing about The Field Guide to Cocktails and having the author, Rob Chirico, comment on my post with a reference to his ‘Summer Rain’ cocktail, I couldn’t resist trying it. I’ve been avoiding purchasing Pama liqueur for a long long time because the concept of Pomegranate liqueur seemed a bit bandwagoneerish and I am, therefore, suspicious of its quality and worth (especially when it costs over $25 per bottle here). However, Rob’s recipe gave me an excuse to revisit the purchase and, lo and behold, upon entering my favorite liquor store I found that they were finally stocking a 375ml bottle at $15. Thus, my risk and commitment aversions were both swept aside in one fell swoop. So, ‘Summer Rain’ it is.

Admittedly a variation on the Mojito, the thing I thought of first in reviewing the recipe was how the tartness of the Pomegranate juice (and presumably the Pama) would affect the balance of the drink. However, the second thing I noticed was that the amount of lime, at least for what I use in my Mojitos, is reduced whereas the amount of simple syrup remains relatively consistent. So, in short, there’s hope. Read More »

Let’s be frank, not everyone is going to be as excited as you or I about the vintage, classic, or the ‘ohmygod it’s perfectly balanced!’ cocktail. And, if you’re like me, you find that your principles of honoring and believing in the beauty of transcendent and timeless drinks conflict most often when you ask a guest or patron, ‘What can I get you?’. Most often you’ll get back, ‘Well, what do you have in mind?’, or ‘What’s your specialty this evening/week/these days?’, or ‘What do you think I’d like?’. To which, after your running through a myriad of wonderful cocktails you just can’t wait to further espouse the beauties and history of, they respond, ‘Ehhhhhh, I’ll just have a/an <insert insipid flavorless and most likely vodka-based drink here>’. Your heart drops, you pause, and finally you turn, broken and defeated, to your bar muttering about truth, and beauty, and how you were born in the wrong damned century… All true. Read More »