Today I was enjoying a stroll through one of my favorite thrift shops, which I will not identify by name for fear that you will go there and buy all of the good stuff. (Okay, it was Thrift Town, which I went to because my real favorite, Thrift Land, was apparently experiencing a donation shortage or something, since all of the shelves were 75% empty). I found a book with a title so incredibly creative that I couldn't help but pick it up: The Collection: a cook book.

The book was published in 1976 by none other than the Junior League of Austin. This find is very exciting because it means that this book actually features dishes and beverages that people in Austin were making around the time that my mother and father were doing whatever it is that married people do to have beautiful babies like me (there is one other recorded incident of such behavior, the evidence being my younger sister).
My parents were pure South Austin, and my mother was certainly no Junior Leaguer, so this book is not an exact snapshot of what entertaining was like in our humble abode. But I am still thrilled to find a written record of what certain Austinites were partaking of during the time of my conception.

Not to downplay the culinary genius of 1970's upper crust Austinites, but I will move past the food recipes and straight to the chapter marked "Beverages."

WARNING: Under no circumstances should you actually attempt to make these beverages. They are listed here only for historical research purposes.

Percolater Punch
9 c. unsweetened pineapple juice
9 c. cranberry juice cocktail
4 1/2 c. water
1 c. packed brown sugar
4 1/2 t. whole cloves
4 cinnamon sticks broken into pieces
1/4 t. salt
Combine juices, water, and sugar in 30 cup coffee percolator. Place cloves, cinnamon and salt in basket; plug in percolator and let it perk as you would for coffee.
Serves 30.
Mrs. Howard M. Richards (Katherine Ross)

Umm... Mrs Richards, isn't something missing, like maybe...the booze? I mean I don't want to sound like a drunk but isn't the point of punch that it makes you feel so special? Couldn't you throw in a little claret or brandy to spice it up? Your friends will love you for it.

Very Old-Fashioneds
1 qt. bourbon
1 c. light rum
1 c. sugar
1 T. Angostura bitters
1 17 oz. jar mixed salad fruits, undrained
Maraschino cherries
Combine all ingredients except cherries. Cover and refrigerate one week.
Serve over ice garnished with maraschino cherry.
For very cold days
Serves 10.
Mrs. Frank N. Beard (Carol Foster)

Light rum in an Old Fashioned? "Mixed salad fruits"--I don't even know what that is. But while I may not agree with Mrs. Beard's recipe for the Old Fashioned, I am inspired by her ambition. I mean, if you factor out this recipe to ten portions, each one has a whopping 3.6 oz of booze. A quart of bourbon?? That's serious stuff. Very cold days, indeed. And hard day's nights, too.

Tonight is $2 Pint Night at Uncle Billy's on Barton Springs Road.

I typically do not patronize Austin Java and its various enterprises (my opinion on the 'tree controversy,' for what it's worth, is after the jump), but I have to make an exception for Uncle Billy’s. As a matter of principle I will refrain from using the full name--Uncle Billy’s Brew & Cue--because it is just dreadful and gives me acid reflux. Uncle Billy’s is on Barton Springs Rd. in the former location of Good Eats and half a dozen other failed establishments. It seems like the Rick Engel crew is making a good go of it.

The Brew Master at Uncle Billy's is Brian Peters, who worked in the brewery at the Bitter End before it burned down. Before that he also helped start Live Oak brewery, one of my favorites. At Uncle Billy’s, Peters has a lineup of half a dozen house brews, and the bar also pours a number of good local beers from Real Ale, Live Oak, and others.

We initially ended up at Uncle Billy's only after getting on the long waiting list at nearby Shady Grove, and went to have beer while we wait. But then we bumped into Tim Schwartz (Real Ale’s master brewer) and talked to him for a while. The great thing about Tuesdays at Uncle Billy’s is that all of their house beers are $2 for a pint. In such dire economic times as these, such a bargain is especially appealing. We asked Schwartz for his recommendations, and took them. Fist we enjoyed a couple of pints of their Rye ale pulled from a cask. This was one of their house beers in a cask variety. Typing this makes me realize that I don’t understand what makes the cask tatse better, anybody have an explanation? For round two, Joe partook of the Smokehouse Porter while I enjoyed the Rye, non-casked. The Smokehouse is a super smoke-rich beer that I believe is a style that Peters specializes in.

After a while Peters came by with a pitcher of Bitter End Wee Woody, a brew from the fabled brewery that burned down several years ago. It has been sitting in a keg ever since they rescued it from the ashes. I had the pleasure of tasting this beer not too long ago at a picnic that I described here. But that beer had been poured from a growler and had lost its carbonation. This beer came out of the keg, and was still fizzy. It was awesome to get to taste this beer again. (The Wee Woody, as I understand it, was a Wee Heavy that they aged in used whiskey barrel). Needless to say we missed our Shady Grove table pager going off, and by the time we stumbled back over there we didn't have much room for dinner.

The Southwest Expo used to be the premier restaurant trade show in this region but this year’s show was merely a shadow of its former self. Every row of the show was pockmarked by empty booths and some of the old standbys took a scaled down approach this year. The saddest of this latter category was the “Glazer’s Alley.” In years past the Glazer’s distributing company would rent a long row with dozens of booths, demonstrating a countless number of spirits that the company represents. That section of the show was always a party. People would show up at the convention center ready to work, and slowly but surely (definitely by lunch time) wind their way over to Glazer’s Alley. This year, not so much. Although the Glazer’s area was certainly a popular one, it was tiny in comparison to previous shows. They also shut down and packed up before the show was even over, which defeats the purpose of happy hour as the show winds down each day. It was a sad sight to say the least.

In the last couple of years the TRA has taken up the practice of grouping all of the liquor and related beverage vendors into an area called “Café 21.” Café 21 is one of those trade-show attempts at making something cool out of something that is by its nature uncool, as in, anything related to a tradeshow. (I should note an exception to this rule, and that is Tales of the Cocktail, which is at once a tradeshow and cool). I want to know who comes up with this kind of crap. Who approached the Expo organizers and said, "Let's put all of the bar products in one area and call it 'Cafe 21!'" It is some of the dumbest shit I have ever seen. Cafe 21 was a sad sight to see this year, with so many empty booths that you had plenty of room to test drive your Cruzer Cooler.

Given the manifold disappointments of this year’s Café 21, there were a handful of highlights. One is the Beyond7 firm’s fabulous treatments of plexiglass, bubble water, and colored lights. As we walked by the display of illuminated plastic dancefloors and bubble columns, the girl asked us if we wanted a flyer. I explained that we did not have an establishment and that the flyer would therefore be wasted, she said, “Oh, that’s okay, we do residential too!” She had me at that. I started thinking of all of the places I could employ this technology—breakfast bar, bathrooms, obviously. But also I could take out the decorative ironwork column off my front porch and replace it with a beautiful Plexiglas variety with bubbly water that lights up at night. I then wondered—could they do fish? That would be very special, and I think a real treasure for the neighborhood.

One of the usual highlights of the Café 21 area is seeing all of the stupid ass new products that are coming on to the market. Last year there was an endless supply of Budweiser “Chelada” tallboys, which could be found on every horizontal surface and in every trashcan. And unlike most of the other booze products, these were tossed out without being finished. You know a product is bad when you can’t give it away in an exhibit hall full of industry trash (like myself).

Last year I found many full cans of Chelada in the trash--where it belongs

Unfortunately this year I didn’t get to try anything as offensive as Chelada. The only thing I saw that was even close was Peace Frog Margarita Wine Cocktail. Alas, the booth was un-staffed and so there was no one there to offer me a taste. The small print on the bottle reads, "Agave wine and other than standard orange wine with natural flavor." Huh? What is standard orange wine? The only orange wine I can think of is MD 20/20. One thing the producers of this product want you to know is that it is VERY authentic. How can you tell? Because the label around the neck of the bottle says "Keeping it Real."

A note to the producers of Peace Frog: I would like to propose an even more clever and authentic catch phrase for the next redesign of your package. "Peace Frog--a Ribbiting experience!"

I stopped off at Beaver’s BBQ which is my opinion has the best bar in Texas. With all due respect to the local Austin boys and girls who are fighting the good fight behind the bar, there is no place (yet) in Austin that compares to Beavers. Bobby Huegel is the mixmaster and Kevin is his inspired sidekick. The bar has an incredible selection of spirits, bitters, and housemade syrups and other potions. These boys take craft mixology very seriously, and have a very reputable blog (as opposed to, say, this one) where you can read about their adventures. But the best way to experience their energy and creativity is to sit a spell at the bar and let the boys work their magic. I did so twice this week. I ordered a handful of different cocktails, and here are the highlights:

The Abyss—made with aged rum, and Elysium, a black Muscat dessert wine from Andrew Quaddy. This drink was made during a visit by the folks from Quaddy Vineyards, who hosted an event at Beavers. There were a number of other cocktails but this one was my favorite.

Following the lead of Jamie Boudreau, the boys have been flaming Angostura bitters into a glass with a sprig of Rosemary, and then pouring different cocktails in. I tried a Last Word served over crushed ice in a snifter that had been seasoned according to the Boudreau method for the Rubicon. Very interesting (albeit labor intensive and perhaps wasteful to the bitters)

I took a trip to the Spec’s Megaplex in Downtown Houston. There are dozens of Spec’s stores in Texas, and several in Austin, but none is as complete as the one on Smith St. I picked up a couple of bottles that I had not seen in the stores in Austin, but nothing too exciting (My heart skipped a beat when I saw a shelf tag for Sazerac Thomas Handy Rye, but there were no bottles behind it). I picked up a bottle of Hirsh “Canadian Rye” which I have mixed feelings about. Bobby has tried it and disavowed it. He also said that unlike American ryes, the Canadian alternative is not regulated.

I will leave you with this image of one of my favorite phenomena of the trade show, the bloated schnorrers who tote around a dozen shopping bags full of swag and other useless crap. They shamelessly grab everything that is not chained down, and are not above asking "Is this free?" Some of them even drag wagons and dollies to maximize their haul of free crap. It is in their spirit that I offer this tribute:

On Friday night Tipsy and I divided and conquered so that he could attend a happy hour with his coworkers at Hickory Street, and so that I could do the same with one of my former UT professors at the Dog and Duck. When prompted to describe his Hickory Street experience, Tipsy confessed that he had "a beer. The bar is basically nonexistent." I found this to be a pretty depressing confession. There was a story in the paper a few months ago reporting that the new owner of Hickory St had managed to purchase the original bar from the Driskill Hotel. The story was short on detail, so I don't know exactly how he managed to find such a treasure. Regardless, I was thrilled to find out about it, because the Driskill is one of the great historical treasures of the city, and the only one that I can think of that is both a historical treasure AND an alcoholic beverage venue. So the thought of there being a bar fixture, that was once the sight of pre-Prohibition cocktail mixology, being restored to its former glory was very exciting to me. One night shortly after the article appeared we went in to the bar to check it out, but the bar looked unoccupied (not just devoid of patrons but also of staff) so we sat at a table. I thought that they just hadn't gotten it hooked up yet.

Tipsy's report from Friday night confirmed that no such restoration of glamour has transpired since our last outing there.

Later in the evening I was standing outside Lambert's waiting for a performance by Hunter Cross and the Strays, when I received this amusing voicemail from Tipsy:
"If Tony Abou-Ganim was dead, he would be rolling around in his grave. This is the Cable Car from the Brown Bar: Smirnoff vodka, orange curacao, fresh lemon juice, a splash of oj, and a cinnamon sugar rim. Mmm... fake cable car. They also have one called the Austinite--Crap."

It is a shame that so many bartenders in Austin lack the basic skill of looking up recipes. This so-called Cable Car is a particularly shameful example. The Cable Car was invented by and is the signature cocktail of Tony Abou-Ganim, who calls himself the Modern Mixologist. The recipe is such a tightly held secret that it is posted on Tony's own Web site. What makes it a Cable Car is the spiced rum--that's the drink. The person who made the Brown Bar's recipe not only doesn't know the recipe for a Cable Car, he or she doesn't understand the concept behind it. Abou-Ganim altered the base ingredient of the classic Sidecar, thus changing the drink's profile. But since it is a close variation of the classic, the name variation is a clever play with words. The cinnamon sugar rim reacts with the spiciness of the spiced rum; in this vodka drink such a presentation doesn't make sense.

Regarding the Austinite, anyone who saw the Statesman's XL-Ent coverage of the best summer cocktails in Austin will recognize the Austinite, which was the last one on the list and the only one that I vehemently disagreed with. The drink consists of 3 ounces of Tito's Vodka and four house-made olives. Good for them for making their olives, but bad for them for making this drink. If this drink is worthy of the name Austinite, ie truly reflective of our mixological values as a people, then we are a municipality of unimaginative alcoholics. And shame on the Statesman for falling for this cheesy marketing. If the drink wasn't called The Austinite, it would not have even been noticed, since it is a glass of cold vodka with some olives. And what is so refreshing about that? It seems more likely to knock out a summer sipper than to revive and restore one.

While I'm at it, I have a few more small details that I have to bitch about regarding the Statesman's summer cocktail guide...

There is an old dilemma that confronts those of us who are inclined towards quality beverages, and that is what do you drink in circumstances when glass bottles are not allowed? Ie by the pool, at the beach, and on the river floating in an inner tube.

Historically there have been very few beers (at least that I know of) that are both 1) canned and 2) good. This is not to say that the river is not a perfect home for a Lone Star tallboy or a 12-pack of Pearl. But what do you do if you want more flavor? A handful of brewers have responded to this problem by producing craft beers in cans. Oskar Blues Brewery of Lyons, CO, has apparently been producing its Dale's Pale Ale for several years, though I just started noticing it on shelves in Austin recently. (Statesman beer writer Patrick Beach discusses it here). It has been acclaimed as being the best canned beer and I in my limited experience cannot contest that claim.

I did not take this picture, which is why it is so clear and enticing

For tube floaters looking for more local flavor, check out Southern Star Brewery.
I found it at Central Market but I don't know where else it is available. Their Web site laments that "Unfortunately we cannot tell you where you can buy the beer due to Texas Law." That is such a stupid law that I would have thought it even too stupid for Texas... . Though the brew is no Dale's Pale, it is certainly a great start for the new brewery.

This beautiful picture is a Tipsy Texan original, featuring a tallboy of Pine Belt Pale Ale in a sea of Torchy's Tacos and queso.

Today there is a cover story about iced coffee in the Austin American Statesman's food section. I guess my years of evangelizing about the merits of cold coffee have finally paid off, since the Statesman's Addie Broyles ran a picture and blurb about the Cappuccello that we serve at the Farmer's Market on Saturday's. I'm glad they properly attributed the origin of the drink to my friend Bobby Heugel of DrinkDogma.com.

I appreciate all of Addie's nice words and thank her for giving me the opportunity to speak about iced coffee, however I do have to make one clarification. She refers to me as a "master mixologist." I appreciate the high praise, and I suppose I am closer to a master mixologist than I am to a master plumber, but I have a ways to go before being a "master" of anything... . I would say I am more of a well-studied cocktail enthusiast. Today, however, we are off to New Orleans for Tales of the Cocktail, where the real masters are. Dale DeGroff, Audrey Saunders, and many more, these are the masters of the trade, and they are all at Tales.

There is also a mention on Addie's blog at Austin360.com. The video shows a short demo on how to do cold brew "toddy" process in a French Press, as well as a demo on the "Japanese" method of hot-brewing cold coffee that results in a completely different product than cold brew. Cold brew is super smooth, with almost no acidic bite. The Japanese method yields a cup that tastes like a cold version of hot coffee, though not watered down and bitter as a hot coffee that was just poured over ice would. Both methods have their merits. They edited out the part about Vietnamese iced coffee, but anyone who has ordered that drink around town knows how it is done!

I was reading the summer issue of Drinks, the magazine of Spec’s liquor stores, and came upon an article about Plymouth Sloe Gin. This was something of a fantasy come true, I thought, as I had only read about the Plymouth Sloe Gin, and never tasted it. I assumed that if the Spec’s magazine had a story about it, including the suggestion of drinking it with lemon juice and soda for a refreshing summer fizz, that the product would at least be available at Spec’s stores. So Tipsy was on his way to the liquor store earlier this week, getting supplies for our Tales of the Cocktail kickoff cocktail party, and I asked to check out to see if it was on the shelves yet, and the answer was a negative. Tipsy asked Carter what was the deal, and he said that there was some problem getting the TABC to approve the sale of the product in Texas. (For those outside the lone star state, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission is the draconian regulatory agency that takes its sweet ass time approving every new alcohol product that comes to the market in Texas, which is why we are so far behind the times. We have not, for example, gotten Canton on the shelves yet.)

Carter explained that Drinks is a nationally-distributed publication that "Spec's" had contracted with, and their name was only on the cover! Doh! I should have known that it was too good to be true that Spec's would have a magazine with writing by David Wondrich and other cocktail super-powers.

Anyway, we arrive yesterday in New Orleans for Tales only to find out that we have just missed the Plymouth Sloe Gin tasting seminar! This means I am going to have to spend the next few days trying to track down Simon Ford, Plymouth's brand ambassador, to see if I can plead my case with him and get a sample...

Among the things that we missed yesterday because we are so damn slow is the official Toast that kicks off Tales of the Cocktail. What was special about this year's toast is that they were making the announcement that New Orleans has been granted an official cocktail, The Sazerac. Of course we knew this already because of the unrelenting emails sent out by the festival, and also this article by Eric Asimov in yesterday's Times. New Orleans is supposedly the only city in the country that has won legislative approval for an official cocktail.

I knew that I wanted my first drink in New Orleans to be a Sazerac, and I wish that it had been with the festival folks. Because when I finally sat down at a restaurant (Cafe Degas) and ordered one, what came to the table was a syrupy sweet glass of liquid that only hinted at whiskey with an even fainter whisper of Herbsaint. Also, they served it on ice. Not sure but if memory serves you serve it chilled in a chilled glass... the New Orleans cocktail police need to get out there and straighten this out if the Sazerac is going to be the city's official cocktail. But I suppose in the city that still has that morbid Hurricane Katrina "graffiti" on many buildings, cocktail standardization will be a long time coming.

Meanwhile, I think we need to get to work on Austin's official cocktail. (My suggestion: NOT the Batini!!)

Yesterday was pretty much a waste due to the extreme consumption that took place the night before. After an aggressive day of conferencing, we went to dinner at Cochon with Bobby Huegel and Morgan from drinkdogma. Dinner was great and ended with an impromptu moonshine tasting, which I'm sure Bobby will post about as soon as he recovers from New Orleans. After dinner we had the cab drop us off at the Swizzle Stick Bar at Cafe Adelaide, where we enjoyed some cocktails with Gabriel and Joana of cocktailnerd. From the bar we walked back to the hotel, and then on to the Absinthe House, but not before I inadvertently offended the Swizzle Stick barkeep by clarifying that Austin was in Texas. "Really?" He said. "Yes," I replied, before he completed his sentence to the effect of, "I work behind the bar AND I'm a complete moron. Go figure" Well, you can't win them all.

The Absinthe House is a bizarre blend of tourist trap, local hangout, and important ancient artifact. As a tourist trap, a so-so drink costs $9. As a local hangout, it is less touristy, though still on Bourbon St. As an ancient artifact, it is important in that it is one of the few bars that remain from the period of Absinthe's heyday, and managed to survive the lifting of the ban. As such, it was something of an after-hours hangout for the cocktailians' post-conference refreshments. They do serve many of the historic cocktails such as the Ramos Gin Fizz and the Sazerac, though they seem a tiny bit put out by the enthusiasm of all these cocktail people who have flooded the bar this week. I met Jay Hepburn from OhGosh! at the Absinthe House as well as a few other folks who I knew of but whom I'd not yet met. That is the cool thing about Tales. Well the meet-and-greet and of course the booze.

The booze is what took us down the road a few blocks to Clover Grill, not because they serve booze but because they serve greasy diner breakfast that helps prevent ill effects from a night of copious consumption. It was almost 5am when we wandered back past the Absinthe House, and thought the doors were closed, many of the Tales folk and other revelers still lingered on the sidewalks outside. When we made it back to the hotel, we laid down to a slumber that would in turn take up the better part of the next day, day three of Tales.

Today I attended a seminar entitled The Green Bar. I guess I thought I was going to be attending a talk about how to use fresh/seasonal/local ingredients in cocktails, but that was only a small part of this session (not to mention, of course, a theme that ran through a great many of the seminars). The Green Bar was moderated by Bridget Albert, who worked under Tony Abou-Ganim at the Bellagio and who has come out with a book about farmer's market cocktails. The two panelists were H. Joseph Ehrmann, known as "H", who is an evangelist for fresh fruit cocktails at his bar Elixir in San Francisco, as well as with his job as Brand Ambassador for Square One Organic Vodka; and Allen Katz, of Southern Wine & Spirits and Slow Food. My complete notes are posted below, but here are the main themes:

>"Greening" your bar is not just the environmentally responsible thing to do, but also makes business sense, as long as you keep in mind that you can't always make the "most green" decision because it may not be feasible.

>For consumers, there is a responsibility to share information and to ask questions. Talk to your local establishments about what you want to see on their menus, and ask businesses questions to find out if they are really sustainable, or just "greenwashing" to appear as such.

>Sustainability in the bar relies on using not just fresh ingredients, but also seasonal and regional ingredients. But this is only one part of a much bigger picture that encapsulates the entire business, from the light bulbs you chose to the cleaning products you use. Vendor choice is also important, and it is critical to establish relationships with the people who are producing your products: farmers for food, brand ambassadors for spirits; and through this process establish a reputation for quality with your customers.

>There is a cultural heritage aspect present in cocktail bars that serve classical drinks and those made with "heritage foods", ie all of the countless varieties of produce that are available. A drink is thus not just a drink, but a connection to our cultural and agricultural past.

>Going the sustainable route is not the easiest, but it is still accessible. Businesses that make the commitment will be rewarded with a loyal clientele, even if they have to accept a different margin than if they took the conventional route. The business can be green and also be profitable

Last Sunday afternoon we went to Uncle Billy’s on Barton Springs Rd. for their 1st anniversary party. Due to construction behind the brewery, we parked in their temporary lot down the road where they offer a convenient shuttle. Being driven by around Barton Springs Rd. by the hot valet type shuttle dude, I couldn’t help feeling as if I was somehow on an exotic tropical vacation in my own town. There were quite a few people at the party and there was a live band on the patio. In celebration of their anniversary, Uncle Billy’s was offering half-price appetizers and $3 pints of their house-brewed beers, crafted by Brian Peters. The featured beer on tap right now is an Agave Wit, which is a refreshing summer pour.

Oddly the celebration price of $3/pint is $1 more than the “pint night” price that they offer all day long every Tuesday.

We ordered several pints of beer and because of an unhealthy relationship that I have with chicken wings—I cannot, for the most part, abstain from ordering them—we ordered the Buffalo and BBQ wings, as well as a bowl of chips & queso with chopped brisket. The beer will always be the star for me at Uncle Billy’s, though the chicken wings were pretty good. I did have not such a problem with the queso, though Tipsy was certain that it didn’t taste like cheese at all (our waitress opined that the ‘famous’ macaroni & cheese wasn’t very good, perhaps they have a problem with cheese dishes?). I did not order BBQ at Uncle Billy’s because the first time we ate there it was pretty much the pits, and I don’t mean the kind where you smoke meats. I have thought about giving the menu another chance, but have heard mixed reviews about the place. One thing I will say in their favor (besides that the beer rocks) is that they must be listening to customer opinion, because they now offer both BBQ plates and sandwiches, whereas when we went at first it was all family style, which struck me as very odd at the time.

A few weeks ago we went out to Real Ale Brewing Co’s 12th anniversary party. Real Ale is located just outside Blanco, which is about an hour outside Austin. Needless to say they have had a few years of practice at throwing birthday parties. I hope with proper tutelage Uncle Billy’s will learn to throw a Real Ale-like birthday bash. Upon arrival, visitors are gifted with 4 beer tickets redeemable for free pints, as well as a food ticket good for a plate of BBQ. Brewery tours started periodically throughout the day. After the party, we drove into Blanco and jumped in the river at the Blanco River State Park. The river was the approximate temperature of spit but it was refreshing nonetheless.

To summarize, here is a statistical comparison of Real Ale party v. that at Uncle Billy’s:
(4) Free pints of fresh Real Ale v. $3 pints of Uncle Billy’s
(1) Free plate of BBQ v. Half-price appetizers (possibly fake queso acc. to Tipsy)
1-hour Hill Country drive v. free shuttle driven by hot valet
Brewery tour v. no brewery tour
iPod v. live music
Spitty Blanco River v. Crisp, cool Barton Springs

A careful evaluation of these two birthday bashes reveals that there are benefits and drawbacks to each event. Both of course offer great beer, with Real Ale being my favorite of the two. Where Real Ale offers value and scenery, Uncle Billy’s delivers convenience and hot valets. My conclusion is that in order to maximize your beer celebration experience, the best option is to attend both parties. And any other beer event you can get your pint glass on.

What a pleasure it was to see LeNell Smothers (with Eric Seed) in her seminar "Cracking The Egg." LeNell owns a liquor store in Brooklyn and has a tendency to pepper her seminars with as much sexual innuendo as possible. She ended her seminar on the use of eggs in cocktails, a favorite subject of mine, with a surprise finish that I would not have thought possible for such a venue. Even if she hadn't ended her talk with such a grand climax, it would have been an enjoyable session, and certainly the liveliest I attended.

LeNell began by going through a list of egg facts, including debunking a few myths. The brown ones aren't necessarily better, as it happens, and you don't need a rooster, though she admits that "roosters are fun to have around... ."
My full notes from the session are at the bottom of this post.

Importantly I think Eric Seed made a convincing case that eggs are relatively safe to use in cocktails. If his numbers are correct, the average consumer encounters a contaminated egg once in 42 years. They discussed safety considerations, most of which fall into the category of "if you are not a complete dumb-ass, you already know this." She suggested, for example, that it was not very attractive for bartenders to separate eggs with their fingers.

Excitingly, an important and heretofore-unbeknownst-to-me use for Vodka was discovered: spritzing the outside of the eggs with Vodka serves to sanitize them.
I also learned that the spring can be removed from a Hawthorne shaker and put in the cocktail shaker while "dry shaking" the ingredients, with the effect of throwing a whisk into your shaker. This helps immensely with the arduous shaking tasks required by cocktails such as the Ramos Gin Fizz.

LeNell went through a history of the use of eggs in cocktails, many of which I have never attempted--Caudles, Possets, Syllabubs among them. Use of eggs began diminishing in the mid 19th century and by the 1960's had all but faded away. Judging by the number of mixologists in the room, it appears that the new guard isn't afraid to put an egg in the shaker.

We tasted two egg drinks, LeNell's own Mae West Royal Diamond Fizz (recipe below) and the Ramos Gin Fizz (which by most accounts is pronounced RAY-mos). Then LeNell moved into the Grand Finale. She asked for a volunteer from the audience so that she could demonstrate the best way to enjoy a Prairie Oyster. Since the volunteers didn't exactly rush the stage, LeNell called from the audience a strapping young man whom she identified as Matty. Once he ascended the bimah, LeNell promptly removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, and instructed him to lay down on the table. She then proceeded to crack a raw egg yolk into his belly button, prepare it with soy sauce and tabasco, and lick it up. I have never had the opportunity to partake of the Prairie Oyster in this fashion but having now seen it I am left with no doubt that this is the most enjoyable method.

"Why use eggs?" asks Lenell. “The are just so f*cking sexy!” (For evidence, she attempted to show a clip from the film “Tampopo," though suffered from an A/V malfunction. I personally thought she had enough evidence laying on the table...)

Do you think that most people who are consumed by craft mixology can clearly pinpoint the genesis of their obsession, that single come-to-Genever moment at which they realized that perhaps salvation could be found in bottles and shakers? For me, it is not so difficult to determine when I was infected with the spirit of spirits. One night a couple of years ago I came home to discover that Tipsy had found this book at the Half Price Books store by our house. It set off a period of soul searching the likes of which I had never experienced. Sure, I had been through phases before, but I had never seen the light. It was a cocktailian coming out, a voyage of discovery that satisfied so many basic needs: Suddenly I had an academic excuse to spend time and money in liqour stores and bars. "Booze hound? Thanks for your concern, Mom, but this is research..." This mixological mission also breathed new life into my thrift store scavenging. I was growing tired of the search for the same old kitchen wares, now I had an entirely new category of unnecessary items to pursue.

And by that I mean booze. We needed a few supplies, so we went shopping...

For readers who are familiar with the Julie/Julia project, this will sound like a familiar gimmick: Begin by selecting one of the most significant works in the canon of gastronomical writing, set out to prepare and consume each recipe in the volume within the course of one year, and blog the entire process for the world to see. (The next steps, of course, are: get press coverage from The New York Times, gain an international readership and score big book deals/ quit day job/ start new job of being famous foodie person.) Julie Powell set out to cook and eat every recipe in Julia Childs’ Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one year, 524 recipes in all. She was, as far as I can tell, a possessed woman for attempting such a feat. I am no Julie Powell. Julie toiled through Pate de Canard en Croute and Rognons de Veau Flambes. I have chosen a different path: I would instead like to attempt to drink my way into the blogosphere's stratosphere. I have selected The Craft of the Cocktail and intend to mix and drink each of Dale DeGroff’s 500 recipes in the span of one year, and hope that my liver, my wallet, and I live to tell about it. This will be in many ways a crash course in the classic cocktail cuisine, as MtAoFC was a crash course in French cooking for Julie Powell. Dale actually offers a brick & mortar cocktail course that he teaches in New York City. Someday I hope to muster up the $3k+ that the cocktail camp costs, and go spend a week with the master. In the meantime I will be taking the distance-learning approach.

This is no Julie/Julia Project (I can probably produce a Knickerbocker cocktail faster than I could a Mousseline de Crustaces) although I thank Ms. Powell for giving me the inspiration for it.

Why Dale? Why David? Why now?

The first drink of the Dale/David Project will be the Sazerac. According to cocktail legend, the drink has its early origins in the apothecary of Antoine Amedee Peychaud, who created his now famous bitters in New Orleans in the 1830's. Bitters were used at the time for medicinal purposes. According to one variation of the story, Peychaud mixed his bitters with Cognac in a "coquetier" (egg cup), and the "cocktail" was born as stubborn/ignorant/hard-of-hearing Americans mispronounced the word. (The word "cocktail" appears in print several decades earlier)

As certain as we can be in the murky depths of cocktail history, we can be reasonably sure that in the 1850's there was a 'coffee shop' (euphemism for booze den) by the name of Sazerac, so named for the brandy produced by Sazerac de Forge et Fils. According to Dale, the bar was opened by John Schiller, who in 1859 applied the name Sazerac Cocktail to a drink based on Sazerac Cognac, and Peychaud's bitters. John Handy supposedly took over the bar at some point and changed the base spirit to Rye whiskey. With the decline in popularity of Rye, Bourbon became substituted in some quarters. (Although according to Chris McMillan, it is NEVER made with Bourbon.)

Robert Hess reports that the bar was owned by a Sewell Taylor, a friend of Peychaud's. The absinthe was a later addition to the drink, as was the switch from Cognac to Rye.

In honor of the cocktail's early heritage, Dale uses both Cognac and Rye in his Sazerac, in equal parts. To that he adds a small amount of simple syrup and equal parts of Peychaud's and Angostura bitters. He chills two cocktail glasses; one will be rinsed with Absinthe and have the cocktail strained into it and garnished with a lemon peel.

For this entry we decided to do a tasting of several Sazeracs with different ryes, from Jim Beam (when did we polish off the Old Overholt?) on the low end to Sazerac 18 on the high end. I know it is bad form to use this latter whiskey in a cocktail but I couldn't help myself. The Sazerac 6 or the Wild Turkey variation is a better traditional cocktail, though it is undeniable that the "Millionaire's Sazerac" made with Sazerac 18 and Hennessy VSOP is a pleasure to drink... . In Allen Katz's Rye Nation seminar, the distiller from Buffalo Trace said something to the effect that he cringed at the thought of the 18 being used in cocktails. But Chuck Taggart, in his definitive discussion of the Sazerac, claims that "Sazerac 18-Year-Old Straight Kentucky Rye Whiskey might just makethe best Sazerac in the world."

A few other references and variations:

Tonight we decided to continue with the cocktails of New Orleans, both in celebration of our recent trip there, and as a way to make up for some of the deficiencies we encountered with "classics" we were served in their own home town. For example, we ordered the Ramos Gin Fizz at the Carousel bar and received a vanilla-y milkshakey drink served on ice. Likewise we had a number of Sazeracs served on ice, though it seems like the classic recipes call for an up drink. The worst drink we saw we didn't even stick around long enough to be served--at the Old Absinthe House, we wanted an Absinthe Frappe We sat for some minutes as a bartender stocked shelves and ignored us. Finally she asked what we wanted, and when I ordered an Absinthe Frappe she explained "That's not really Absinthe, absinthe is the one with the ice water." We had spent several nights at the Absinthe House over the course of the conference, and had seen a bartender (Will) lovingly fill the cup with a dome of shaved ice, then drizzle Lucid Absinthe, Herbsaint, and simple syrup over the flaky ice. This girl grabbed Herbsaint and DeKuyper Anisette and poured it over a skimpy portion of shaved ice, then blasted it with soda and gave it a stir. As another bartender began arguing with her about something, we took our leave. Absinthe abuse continued at Tujagues the next day as the bartender lit a sugar cube on fire and stirred it into the Absinthe.

The Ramos Gin Fizz was created in New Orleans in the 1880's and was popular until Prohibition. Consisting of London Dry Gin, lime juice, lemon juice, simple syrup, egg white and a few drops of orange flower water, the signature of the drink is that it requires a very vigorous shake to achieve the appropriate "ropy" texture.

Charles H. Baker Jr. describes the drink in the Gentleman's Companion:
THE ORIGINAL GIN FIZZ which Was Long a Secret of the Brothers Ramos, and which Was Given out by Them, in a Fit of Generous Aberration during Our Alleged & Ridiculous Drought of the Prohibition Era...the Ramos Fizz has long been synonymous with the finest in all the New Orleans art. Thinking that the formula, like any history dealing with the dead arts, should be engraved on the tablets of history, it was given to the world after the now rejuvenated Ramos bar closed for the "dry" era. The main secret of excellence was the platoon of 8 or 1 doz blackamoors who passed the shaker over shoulders to the next, after each had literally shaken his heart out chilling the drink...

Continuing with a wrap-up of New Orleans drinks following our visit there, I have decided on the milk punch for tonight, though perhaps I should have saved it for tomorrow morning. I don't know if this is a New Orleans drink per se, but it is a popular Southern drink that is certainly a fixture of brunch dining in New Orleans. Some Milk Punch recipes call for Bourbon but I prefer the Brandy variety and I suspect that is the older one, though I'd have to consult drinkboy or Dr. Cocktail to know for sure... . In Early American Beverages I found an 1860 recipe for a brandy or rum milk punch in which the spirits are steeped in oranges and lemons; and an 1884 recipe that is sherry-based and calls for milk "warm from the cow." This latter recipe calls for nutmeg to taste; the modern recipes likewise often call for a garnish of grated nutmeg.

Milk punch is often served from a punch bowl, preferably sterling silver (not at my house). The Dale recipe calls for 2 parts brandy, 1 part simple syrup, and 4 parts milk. I used half & half which resulted in a very frothy head. Though the recipe does not specify, I believe this drink is usually served without ice. At a famous New Orleans brunch restaurant that shall remain unnamed, I was served a milk punch over ice which I found to be rather disappointing.

(Unfortunately we are still suffering from some technological difficulties so my pictures will be posted later, for what they're worth.)

I have been trying to both follow Dale's book and feature the cocktails of New Orleans, because I am still in a post-Tales recovery period. Unfortunately Dale does not feature all of the famous New Orleans cocktails in his book. He does, however, have a DDG (Dale DeGroff) original called the New Orleans Cocktail which I made tonight. Consisting of Bourbon, a few dashes of Peychaud's bitters and a couple dashes of orange curacao, the drink tastes...Bourbony. Sort of like a dry Old Fashioned, served up in a chilled cocktail glass, with a DDG signature, the flamed lemon peel.

We also made the Cocktail a la Louisiane which is not in Dale's book, but which I felt like making tonight in our New Orleans cocktail roundup. The Louisane is is like a Vieux Carre (also not in the Dale) without the Cognac and was, according to Chuck Taggart, the signature cocktail at the Restaurant de la Louisiane in New Orleans.

Wrapping up our tour of the drinks of New Orleans we finish with the Hurricane, one of those maligned tourist trap drinks from Pat O'Brien's that you have probably had but not in the same thought process as "cocktail". The problem with this drink when you get it at Pat's is that it comes out neon red and tastes about as natural as it looks. This is not to say that you can't put down a few of them in the right mood, as long as you don't mind the FDC Red #666. What really turned me off last year when we went to Pat's is that they already had the Hurricane glasses par-filled with Hurricane, so that when you order it all they have to do is add ice. Where is the love in that?! It's like going to the cafeteria where they have the half-filled iced tea glasses lined up and ready to go.

Although you won't be seeing this picture until we resolve our technology malfunction, we served up our Hurricane in a Patty O's Hurricane glass, available at any thrift store in town for approx $.99.

With Dale's recipe, we get to experience this cocktail in its natural state. A blend of light and dark rums, with fresh orange, pineapple, and lime juices. The recipe also calls for passion fruit juice or syrup; for lack of fresh passion fruit, I used the syrup but I chose to use Philibert Routin 1883 which is a higher quality syrup than most (ie no artificial colors or flavors). The drink, I have to say, was delicious. I remember that we tried to make the Hurricane a few Mardi Gras ago, following the DDG recipe, but I must have taken some unwise shortcut because the result definitely did not taste like this. I think the secret is in using all fresh-pressed juices, which is labor intensive when referring to pineapple, but totally worth it.

The melons are out of control at the Farmers Market right now. Today, in addition to the last of the blueberries and peaches, we had honeydews, cantaloupes, canary melons, some weird little "snack melons" that look like palm-sized watermelons but taste like honeydew, and a cantaloupe-looking heirloom from Finca Pura Vida that was described only as "Indian Melon from the Indians of Costa Rica."

Our post-market cocktails today consisted of:
Crushed Peach you-name-it:
We made a Tom Collins on top of a crushed peach, and a margarita, and some other things I've forgotten by now. Crushed peach on a classic cocktail = yummy while you're trying to figure out what else to make.

We also made a lovely pitcher drink of fresh pressed cantaloupe and canary melon juice, gin, maraschino, lemon juice and agave nectar. Serve long with a squeeze of lime and a spritz from the soda siphon. Mmm... Markety.

And by "we", I mean Bill Norris and all of the people in Austin who care about craft cocktails.

Tonight was the 42 Below Cocktail World Cup finals party. A dozen or so bartenders competed for the honor of representing this region at the Cocktail World Cup later this year in New Zealand. Going in to the event we had our sights set on Bill, because he was the only one of the contenders that we had heard of. Boy did we see a diverse representation from the mixology community tonight! We saw everything from fire breathing and simulated topless dancers (Henry Acosta of the Yellow Rose) to dry ice and a "Below Freeze" served in hollowed out & peeled kiwis (Duc Dinh of 219 West) to the tantalizingly titled "Sorority Bubble Bath" (Cassandra DeBakery of Lucky Lounge).

The competition kicked off with Justin Stidham of Pangaea, who mixed up his "Morning Glory" cocktail which featured a fascinating mixture of not one but three different vodkas: 42 Below, of course, but also Charbay Green Tea and Grey Goose le Citron; to that he added Honest Tea Green Tea and a lightly shaken egg white. He served the cocktail glass on a plate of fresh fruit with a packet of Advil tablets (Duh! It's a morning cocktail!)

Jason Spurgeon of Cuba Libre shook things up with his "Kiwi Lime Martini", served up in a cocktail glass rimmed with graham cracker crumbs. This innovative cocktail seemed inspired by the Key Lime Martini (also made with Keke key lime liqueur and a graham cracker rim) that was on the Ruth's Chris Steakhouse menu in the early 2000's--with a pedigree like that, I thought, he can't go wrong. He did not, and captured the third place finish in this evening's competition.

Phil Vuong from Six Lounge took second place with "Twigs & Berries"--I must have been in one of the drink lines b/c I missed this performance, but we want to congratulate him on his strong finish.

The last bartender to compete tonight was Bill Norris, the classicist from FINO. Norris took the stage in a suit and tie--no cowboy hat, no wifebeater, and no backup dancers. No blenders, no dry ice, and no BS. His bag of tricks consisted merely of three bottles of liquor, his shaker, a pepper mill, and his skilled hands. I was a bit concerned that the crowd would not respond well to this minimalist approach, given the tremendous zeal with which they had received the flashier presentations. But I was wrong. By the time Norris was pouring his drink, many in the crowd were chanting his name. (I should note that I think he was the only bartender tonight who chilled his cocktail glasses, an important detail that I think the judges noticed. I know the emcee noticed because she seemed surprised that he was dumping out the glasses). When the announcers called the first place winner and it was Bill Norris, I felt like justice had been delivered. Tipsy claims that I was crying but I think he was full of BS (and 42 Below).

The only problem with Bill taking the top prize is that I'll never get a damn seat at that tiny FINO bar again. But on behalf of the entire staff of tipsytexan I want to congratulate Bill Norris for representing us like a true pro--THANK YOU!

I guess I was so busy drooling over the fact that FINO's Bill Norris won the contest last night that I forgot to mention his winning cocktail. Before doing so I want to say a few more things about the event. Although by my estimation there were only a few true craft mixologists in the bunch, this is not to say that everyone who competed didn't put forth a strong effort. In the way of showmanship, there were some tremendous performances, such as the gentleman from 219 West who built a tower of bottles and glass platforms encased in a dry ice fog for the presentation of his cocktail; there was also the bartender from the Yellow Rose who erected (?) a screen behind which there was a titillating (?) display of sexually charged shadow dancing while he mixed, all of this before he ingested a mouthful of high proof rum and exhaled a fiery plume onto his glasses. The entertainment value here is incontrovertible.

What I would have liked to see is more of the craft--the artistry in the glass, and not just in the presentation. I tried many of the drinks. Most were drinkable, some were excellent, while some were just bizarre (one drink had the taste and consistency of cake batter). Some drinks showed real creativity while some were completely derived. Is derivative mixology necessarily a bad thing? Not when the source material is solid. Take for example Tony Abou-Ganim's now famous Cable Car, just one ingredient away from the Classic Sidecar, and his is now arguably considered a modern classic.
But the Kiwi Lime Martini with the graham cracker rim is a spitting image of the Key Lime Martini that was on the menu at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse many years ago. That is not a drink that in my opinion is worth emulating.

What is at the root of this situation is that some of these contestants, who obviously have a passion for bartending, do not have the necessary education to execute great cocktails. Take for example the fellow who used three different vodkas in his green tea cocktail. Why use both green tea vodka and green tea? Why use citron vodka instead of real citrus? Why put an egg in the drink and then barely shake it? He had an idea, but not the background information to follow through on it. He knew that egg whites are used in cocktails, but didn't know to shake it to achieve the proper emulsion. He obviously wants to do something creative but needs to be doing his homework so that he actually can follow through.

That said, everybody had a great time last night and I'm glad that all of these contestants were here. I'm glad they at least care enough about their mixological philosophy to enter a contest. I'm glad that hundreds of people showed up to support their contestants, and to support the industry, and to drink cocktails. If what was being served at the bars last night was not cocktail brilliance, at least it wasn't a Bud Light. If "flare" bartending keeps people from ordering a Bud Light, that is a step in the right direction.

And now for the winning recipe, the Bee Sting by Bill Norris

I am going to attempt three things with this post: First, I am trying to keep on schedule with the Dale/David project after yesterday's unfortunate lapse. Second, I found a couple more drinks (the French 75 and Cafe Brulot) that I think belong in this quick wrap-up of New Orleans cocktails that I have been working on in the context of Dale's book. Third, I discovered that this month's Mixology Monday theme is New Orleans cocktails--cocktails from New Orleans, cocktails inspired by New Orleans, or even cocktails that you quaffed in New Orleans. I will be touching on all of these facets in this post, which, for the record, and in typical form, is taking me so long that I hope I don't get denied participation privileges by the MxMo moderator. It is after midnight, I know, but it is also still Monday night in that I am still awake from Monday...does that count? Assuming for the moment that it does, here goes my first attempted participation in Mixology Monday, the world's foremost online monthly cocktail party!

The French 75: Conflict, Conundrum, Compromise
The French 75 does not necessarily originate in New Orleans but seems tied there because of the French 75 Bar at Arnaud's, which has a long association with this drink. Some legends tell that the drink was invented by Arnaud himself; regardless of who invented it, the drink was named after the French 75 cannon which was used extensively during WW I.

In The New Orleans Restaurant Cookbook (1967) Deirdre Stanforth specifies this recipe:
Arnaud's French 75
Dash lemon juice
1 oz gin
1/2 oz Cointreau
Champagne
Lemon peel
Shake lemon juice, gin, and cointreau with ice, strain into a champagne glass, and top with champagne and a twist of lemon peel

Anyone who has stopped by that bar in recent years may be surprised to see gin make an appearance. Just recently during Tales of the Cocktail my friend Paula was at the bar and ordered a French 75 "the traditional way", meaning with gin. She was admonished by the barman who told her something to the effect of "we cannot put English gin in our French Champagne." When we went there the next day, a different bartender told us that he didn't like to talk about drinks, he just liked to make them, and would make whatever the customer wanted. We had it the way they serve it, with Cognac and I believe some type of orange liqueur.

Gary Regan writes in Joy of Mixology that the French 75 invites controversy over not just the brandy/gin base but also whether to use lemon or lime juice. I have not found a recipe yet that suggests lime. His recipe calls for gin and lemon juice, over crushed ice, which begs another question--whether to serve the drink up or on ice.

Regan cites Harry Cradock's Savoy (1930) as the earliest printed reference to this drink. Cradock outlines a traditional version with gin and lemon juice, served over cracked ice, and notes that the drink, like its namesake, I suppose, "Hits with precision." Regan attributes the Cognac version to David Embry, whose Fine Art of Mixing Drinks is finally being reprinted by Mud Puddle Books.

According to Ted "Dr. Cocktail" Haigh, the French 75 is made with gin, served up in a Champagne flute. The Cognac version is called a French 125. I have read that a vodka version is the French 76, though I don't recall where. Chris McMillan, in his series on New Orleans cocktails, makes the French 75 with gin and strains it into a Champagne flute.

Since this is the Dale/David project, I should discuss DDG's version: Brandy, lemon juice, simple syrup, and Champagne; shaken and strained over ice. In the book Dale doesn't discuss this drink as he does others, so one can only speculate as to the reasoning behind his choosing brandy over gin. I made this version and then made several other of the more traditional variety (what else was I supposed to do with this open bottle of Champagne?) Dale's version is a tasty cocktail but he seems to be outnumbered by his colleagues who favor a gin-based drink.

Taking all of this into consideration, I decided that I would do my meager part to settle the score, and created this cocktail of compromise:
The French Détente
1 oz. Cognac
1 oz. Gin
1 oz. Lemon juice
3/4 oz. Simple syrup
Shake all with ice and strain into a chilled Champagne flute; top with Champagne.

Tonight is catch-up night. A week into the Dale/David Project and we are already scrambling to stay on schedule. This is amazingly similar to how college was for me, always trying to keep up with the reading. But playing catch-up with academic reading isn't nearly as fun as trying to catch up on one's drinking.

For our mixing pleasure this evening we made the Brandy Crusta, which is yet another drink from the Dale that belongs in the New Orleans cocktail wrap-up. We also shook up three more "French" drinks; and Tipsy randomly selected the "Stella's Rose", a DDG original.

The Brandy Crusta was, according to Dale, invented by Joseph Santina at a bar in New Orleans called the Jewel of the South. What makes this drink unique is the thick sugar "crust" on the rim of the glass, followed by a very wide lemon peel garnish. The rest of the cocktail is Sidecar-like--brandy, cointreau and lemon juice--with the addition of a small amount of maraschino.

In Vintage Cocktails Ted Haigh shows an early recipe (from Jerry Thomas's 1862 Guide) that calls for Cognac, lemon juice, orange Curacao, and a dash of Boker's bitters. Haigh explains that this drink is significant as an "ancestor" cocktail, having begat the Sidecar, which begat the Margarita, etc. Haigh's formulation led Gary Regan to codify the broader category of "New Orleans Sours" in his Joy of Mixology.

The French 95 is a riff on the French 75 but uses Bourbon instead of gin/brandy, and orange juice in addition to lemon juice. It is topped with Champagne and is quite tasty.

The French Kiss is a simple preparation of equal parts sweet and dry vermouths, with a lemon peel garnish. I used Vya dry vermouth and Martini sweet vermouth. This was a refreshing wine cocktail and the lemon made a big contribution.

The French Connection is a drink that surprised me when I saw it, because I had "invented" this drink last year without knowing it had already been invented. The difference between my Sun King and the French Kiss is that mine is served on the rocks with a flamed lemon peel, making it a deconstructed postmodern Sidecar, and the French Connection is served neat in a warm snifter.

Yesterday in the NY Times dining section there was an article about Greg Boehm who is reprinting a number of vintage cocktail manuals. I picked up a few of these books at Tales of the Cocktail and they are really remarkable. As facsimiles, they are virtually identical to the originals. This is much cooler than most reprints that put a modern cover on a classic work. At Tales I picked up The Mixicologist (1895) and Barflies and Cocktails (1927). These were offered as premiums with our Tales registration. What I'm more excited about however is Boehm's reprints of Jerry Thomas's 1862 Bartender's Guide: A Bon Vivant's Companion, which is one of the first books written on the subject, and was the inspiration for David Wondrich's award-winning Imbibe!; and Harry Johnson's Bartender's Manual (1900) which Robert Hess describes in the introduction as being "perhaps as important as the Rosetta stone." That may be a bit of a stretch but having these rare manuscripts available again will no doubt provide important insight into the ancient history of the trade for those of us who are the modern practitioners of it. The books are available at cocktailkingdom and amazon, though it looks like the Thomas reprint will not be out for a couple more months.

Tonight we went to a beer tasting dinner at Blue Star Cafeteria. This is the second in their new monthly series; last month featured the beers of Independence Brewery. The setup is a pretty good deal--for $15 you get four small plates by chef RJ Spade, paired with tasting portions of four beers from a local brewery, in this case Real Ale Brewing of Blanco. (The Tipsy Texans recommend that you order a full-size beer to sip on while you dine).

No that's not pickled ginger... it's fresh locally grown canary melon from Boggy Creek Farm, along with blueberries and poached pear. The dessert course was served with the Lost Gold IPA.

The owners and several crew members from the brewery were available to talk about the beers. They sampled their original lineup of year-round beers plus the seasonal Lost Gold IPA. Of their four bottled beers, the Full Moon Pale Rye is my favorite, undoubtedly one of the best beers in Texas, though the Fireman's 4 is their runaway popular hit. Demand is so high for this beer in bottles that they are restricting sales to retail outlets like groceries and liquor stores;