Booze You Can Use

“Good evening, ma’am. What can I get for you?”

“Gimme a glass of your house white wine.”

“Sure. We have a few house whites on hand tonight. Is there a particular grape-?”

“HOUSE wine. I want your HOUSE white wine. Dry. I want dry.”

“Great. I have a really nice Chardonnay from-”

“I don’t want Chardonnay! I want DRY WHITE WINE! I thought y’all spoke English here in Canada! And my husband wants a martini.”

“Any particular kind of martini?”

“Dry.”

“Vodka or gin?”

“A dry martini. And I don’t have my wine yet.”

“Yes ma’am. But should I make the martini with vod-?”

“Drrrryyyy maaaar-tiiiii-niiii.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Gin or vodka?”

“Look, it’s real easy, son. One glass of white wine and one dry martini.”

“One dry vodka martini coming up.”

“No, a dry martini’s got gin in it.”

“Dry just means less or no vermouth.”

“No, I don’t want that. I want a dry gin martini.”

“Olives or twist?”

“Martini!”

“Yes, with olives or a twist?”

“And a white wine! Is there a manager here?”

“I am the manager.”

“Well, what’s taking you so long?”

“One martini and a glass of pinot grigio, there you go.”

“This is dry wine?”

“Sure.”

“Lemme try it first. I ain’t payin’ if I don’t like it. And I want the martini on the rocks. But in the nice glass, like before. Extra olives.”

“How’s the wine?”

“It’s real good, thank you. You got somewhere I can throw out my gum?”
–Dan

It’s been a busy couple of days in booze news I want to diffuse so you can use, so roll up and strap yourselves in real comfy for a cruise through my views on …

Throw up from the train! Actor Danny DeVito is taking lemons and making limoncello. The pint-sized actor famously showed up hammered on the Italian lemon-flavoured liqueur for a taping of The View, which redeemed him slightly for agreeing to appear on The View in the first place. Danny DeVito’s Premium Limoncello was unveiled at some booze wholesalers convention thingy in Florida; Booze You Can Use will try to sample when it becomes available here in Ontario (ha!).

Plymouth rocks! So concluded a panel of gin drinkers for a New York Times piece today. I’ve loved Plymouth ever since I was introduced to it in England, where it commands unbelievable brand loyalty among a people who don’t even usually drink martinis — the forum where the beautifully balanced spirit shines brightest. “The Plymouth was confident… it really seemed to know what it was doing,” says one panellist in the interactive online feature gizmo. Mmm-hmm, we like gin that’s confident and competent: Gin you’d trust to fly you home.

But seriously, Plymouth, please go back to the old bottle:

… which was so much better than the present one, which is uh, giving me technical difficulties. Look here!

The new bottle looks too much like Smirnoff Vodka anyway.

Am I wrong, readers? Comments more than welcome. Ah, but I digress when I could be talking about …

Booze venues you can cruise! Spirit of Toronto and the Santé Wine Fest, two booze events coming to the T-Dot very soon. Spirit of Toronto is a whisky thing, and the Japanese whiskies have me excited — I can already feel a Pavlovian tingle in the lips in anticipation of some Nikka Yoichi. Now to get invited … those $105 tickets just aren’t in the BYCU budget for 2007 (which, incidentally, is $0).

Go fix yourself a drink while I work on bringing you more booze news to amuse. I might even have an update soon (mañana, even?) about the best thing to come out of Cuba since Ricky Fuckin’ Ricardo. So sit tight, amigos y amigas.

— Adam

A certain National Post reporter has a little piece in today’s Arts & Life section about the Brandy Alexander, a forgotten cocktail recalled with admirable artistic appropriateness by Ms. Leslie Feist on her new album, The Reminder.

Remember: The cool kids buy the print edition.

— Adam

Perched above Cumberland Avenue’s Sushi Inn, and no doubt reaping the benefits of cocktail-thirsty Yorkvillians temporarily without their beloved Sassafraz, The Y Not Lounge is serving some of the finest and most original concoctions that Toronto has to offer. Managers Serguei and Sylvain, le duo dynamique, have designed a cocktail list that perfectly compliments the je ne sais quoi that the dashing young Frenchmen bring of their six month old establishment: Y Not is fun but heartfelt, flamboyant but stylish, dancing provocatively on the fine line between sultry and promiscuous (and occasionally, dancing on the bar).My tasting began with the “Basil Instinct” (fresh basil infused Level vodka, with fresh tomato juice and dry vermouth), a delightful synthesis of cocktail and appetizer. Aware of my weakness for fine tequila, Sylvain then whips up a round of margarita shooters, with kiwi and banana muddled into the shaker to delicious effect.

Who wants to be at work on a nice, sunny spring day?

Not that we’re having a nice day in the T-dot, but I can feel the spring tingle rising in my breast … and speaking of breast, if you don’t think you like a bright, red Italian liqueur that tastes like quinine bark**, perhaps Salma Hayek’s rack will convince you. Hey, if Campari’s good enough for ol’ Salma — better than diamonds, in fact — it’s good enough for me. In the long run, certainly better than beer, which makes you feel like a wet, stupid towel after a few on a hot day. Can’t wait for a tart, pink, fizzy Campari and soda. Mmm-mm.
—Adam

** Quinine bark is what they make malaria pills from. My standard joke (try it at home!): The stuff works — I drink Campari and I didn’t get malaria all last summer. (Har!)

Boobs you can use?

(Corrected May 2 so Salma isn’t spelled wrong three times.)

If you’re in Toronto, we have good news for you: Ideal bock weather has finally arrived. Eric Asimov of the New York Times provides the basics.

Raise a cheer for dark German beer!

—Adam

Strange but true: The Hudson’s Bay Company not only used to sell liquor in Canada, but they still have one product being produced under licence in the U.S. and A. (enter your DOB and then look for Hudson’s Bay Scotch at the bottom of the page):

http://216.35.178.12/frontdoor/brandhome.cfm

http://www.bambootrading.com/proddetail.asp?prod=3004&cat=210

Finally, there’s this at HBC’s own site:

http://www.hbc.com/hbcheritage/faq/

FROM HBC SITE:
“In fact Hbc used to have a full line of spirits - scotch, rye, brandy, rum, and gin. Of these the best known was probably the scotch, which was marketed under the name “Best Procurable”. At one point Hbc owned about 25% of the famous Glenlivet distillery in Scotland. Liquor was one of the major pillars of the wholesale division, a part of our business which included tea and coffee, cigarettes and tobacco, and confectionery. Hbc sold these items not only in their stores and fur trade posts, but also to other 3rd party retailers who carried the stock in outlets and small town general stores across the country. Hudson’s Bay Co., Inc. was our U.S. wholesale subsidiary selling to the American market.

The recession of the 1980s caused Hbc to re-examine all its business which was very diversified at that point. It was decided that non-core businesses would be disposed of. The liquor business was one of these. In 1987 Hudson’s Bay Distillers was sold to Seagram’s. As a result Hbc spirits became unavailable in Canada. However, Hudson’s Bay Company Blended Scotch Whiskey continues to be sold in the U.S. thanks to special licensing arrangements with Sidney Frank Importing.“

The information at U.S. distributor Sidney Frank’s site is patchy, so I’m going to inquire about where this product is sold, etc. It looks to be a blended Scotch but beyond that … ?

At first I thought, “Whisky from the Bay? And you can only get it in the States? How awesomely Canadian is that?” But before long I put two and two together: Like those smallpox-coated blankets, this stuff (or an ancestor of it, anyway), was once used to screw with aboriginal Canadian communities. Um, cheers?

Still, I’m curious. Actually, I’ve managed to find a bar in Toronto that purports to serve HBC hooch (information withheld for suspense purposes). Is it an old bottle, or one brought up from the U.S.? Well, dude, we just don’t know. Stay tuned for a debriefing …

—Adam

You nudge your way through the shadowy ambience and the lounge designer‘s chic wet dream of style and sophistication, the oh-so-trendy electric music pulsating seductively beneath the din of cocktail-induced laughter and conversation, and gaze down the slick bar top. You make a quick perusal of the cocktail list: the printed parade of colourful adjectives (“The Hyperactive“); thinly-draped sexual connotations (“The Panty Melter“); something vaguely tropical-sounding (“Luscious Lagoon”); and a bit of celebrity whimsy for good measure (“The Kournikova” - ooh, it’s made with vodka!); and make your selection, upon which the ridiculously beautiful bartender gets to work. You’ll feel even more cool, more adorable, more virile, with that elegant martini glass twirling through your fingers like liquid silk. With this drink in hand, your boozy badge of honour in its Technicolor glory, you will become infinitely classier than anyone else in your co-worker’s office baby pool (“She’ll be born on Tuesday but before noon!”). Even waiting at the bar makes you feel special.

Thirteen dollars (twelve for the drink and one more for the tip) later and you are ready to party. You lift the glass to taste the marvellous concoction that has completed your image, legitimating your right to socialize at such a swanky venue, and it tastes… umm… well, it tastes like booze: sharp, candy-sweet (most likely the same saccharine green melon liqueur responsible for that radioactive colour), and isn’t really selling you on a second round. Somehow, you expected more - aren’t these supposed to be good? - and you’ll now look like a lightweight, ruining your newly purchased image, if you don’t finish it.

We’ve all been there, and one day, you will get terminally bored of it. There is hope though: yes Virginia, there is such a thing as a good martini. In fact, many fine bars and restaurants I’ve been to produce some truly magnificent martinis, each passing the test of great cuisine in that every taste is as well-balanced and delicious as the one before. The trick to finding these gems for yourself is to know what it is that you are drinking: are the cocktail’s flavours coming from freshly squeezed fruit juices or crappy, brightly coloured liqueurs? Is the barkeep using premium spirits in the mix or dumping out whatever was on special at the liquor store that week? Is the garnish elegant, like a fresh mint sprig or luscious rambuttan, or tacky, like a maraschino cherry on a plastic sword or a mere lime wedge? The next time you’re out for dinner at a well-reputed and high quality restaurant (treat yourself, you deserve to eat well), enquire of your server or the floor manager where they would take a hot date for cocktails. The industry won’t lie to you and will direct you to the quality. After all, it’s your thirteen bucks.

—Dan

It’s T-minus two hours before the big two-nine and it’s been sort of a lousy day, so to relax I try to do the brandy and cigar thing, like they did back in the day, but of course it’s never quite as you would like it. Rule number one is make the best of what’s available.

Today I fiddled with getting a concrete drill, an unready construction site, laundry, taxes, three visits to the bank (don’t ask) and dishes. Then the news is nothing but incomplete reports about a senseless campus massacre. It’s time to de-stress, and what better way than to finally crack open the bottle of Martell XO Cognac that’s been burning a hole in my bar cart.

The only cigar I can scare up is a convenience store special suffering from rigor mortis brought on by age and neglect and the only brandy I have to compare with the Martell XO is the more or less generic St. Remy XO, but what’s rule number one again?

And after kind of a bad day, there’s a nice little surprise. Of course the Martell ($199) is delicious, subtle, sophisticated. It’s a classic Cognac and I look forward to comparing it with, say, Hennessy XO some day. But fruity, simple St. Remy ($27) actually scraps pretty good for a little guy, and while he’s never quite in it you’ve got to admire him trying. Next time I buy Cognac on the fly — shut up, it could happen — I will keep in mind that the St. Remy wasn’t so bad.

So now, after much procrastination, Booze You Can Use [flourish!] is up and running. This post is just an epigraphic teaser, an amuse bouche, before the inevitable statement of principles or what-have-you that usually kicks off a blog. Over the next few days and weeks I and co-hooch hound Dan Leberg will probably write a little about what BYCU is and what it hopes to accomplish, but for now I’m just going to turn off this damn word machine finally and enjoy my Cognac.

And I promise I’ll explain the whole VS - VSOP - XO thing with Cognac someday.

—Adam