In my capacity as president and chief operating officer of the Society for the Preservation and Restoration of Classic Cocktails, I hearby declare jihad against the Bubblegum Martini.
In the immortal words of a great philospher:

In my capacity as president and chief operating officer of the Society for the Preservation and Restoration of Classic Cocktails, I hearby declare jihad against the Bubblegum Martini.
In the immortal words of a great philospher:

Ah, Thanksgiving approaches. And what are we thankful for this week? TMQ cheerleader photos, perhaps?
I wanted to link to this article on the Old Fashioned (hattip: Daring Fireball); I actually think this is a pretty well done take, and I was previously unfamiliar with the American Drink website.
The problem I have, though, is that the American Drink site seems to me to be annoyingly laid out and far more difficult to read than it should be.
I’m wondering if it might be time to revive the Society for the Preservation and Restoration of Classic Cocktails, in blog format; possibly even as a group blog. Glen? Mike? RoadRich? Would you guys be interested if I fired something like that up?
My opinion of the Civil War is well known within my circle of friends. In brief, I find the Civil War for the most part a rather uninteresting area of history, and think far too much attention is given to it. I would rather see 1/10th of the amount of attention devoted to the Civil War given to the American Revolution. Or Vietnam. Or Prohibition. (Don’t ask me about the Compromise of 1850. Just don’t.)
That said, I was shocked at how much I liked James Swanson’s Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer. I think part of the reason I enjoyed it so much is that Swanson chose to write his book more in the style of a true crime work, rather than a standard history. I’ve been waiting for his sequel, Bloody Crimes: The Chase for Jefferson Davis and the Death Pageant for Lincoln’s Corpse
, since I finished Manhunt, and I’m happy to be able to say that Bloody Crimes is a worthy successor.
Swanson tells two parallel stories in Bloody Crimes. The first story is: what happened after Lincoln’s death? Swanson does give us some preliminary material about the last few days of Lincoln’s life: his visit to Richmond, his premonitions of death, and briefly recaps the assassination itself. But his main focus is on the after death pageant, the decision making that went into it, how it was pulled together, and how it was carried off. Part of Swanson’s argument is that Lincoln’s funeral train went a long way towards healing the wounds of the Civil War. The exhibition of Lincoln’s corpse, and the public grief that accompanied it, in some way gave the nation closure, and permission to mourn the Union’s Civil War dead. In some way, Lincoln wasn’t just a martyred president; he was a symbol of all the Union soldiers who fell, and his funeral train was exactly the national catharsis the United States needed at the time.
The other half of Swanson’s story is Jefferson Davis. What happened to him, and to the Confederacy, after Lee’s surrender? Davis was at one point the most wanted man in the country – probably even more so than Booth, while Booth was still alive – and his capture ended the Confederacy. Yet within two years of his capture, Davis had gone from “sure to be tried for treason and executed” to free man. What happened? And how did Davis live out the rest of his life? How do you go from leader of a free nation to private citizen, especially after you’ve lost much of your wealth in the war? I’ll confess that I really never thought about these questions with respect to the late Jefferson Davis, but Swanson answers them, and makes the answers interesting. One of Swanson’s great accomplishments in Bloody Crimes is that he manages to make Davis a sympathetic and honorable figure (as Swanson shows, Davis was more honorable than some of his captors) without apologizing for the Confederacy and what it stood for.
I commend Swanson’s books to your attention. But I do wonder what he’s going to write about next, now that he’s seemingly exhausted the possibilities of the late Civil War period?
Another recent book that I’ve mentioned previously, finally managed to find, and enjoyed the heck out of, is Max Watman’s Chasing the White Dog: An Amateur Outlaw’s Adventures in Moonshine. You might be surprised to know that there’s basically two branches of contemporary moonshine making. On the one hand, you’ve got contemporary American micro-distillers, some of whom are fully licensed (such as Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey, which Watman covers in depth), and some of whom operate just outside the law thanks to stupid government regulations. (It is perfectly legal to produce up to 300 gallons of beer yearly for your own use. But God forbid that you try to distill your own booze, even for personal use; there’s no legal way to do that without expensive government licensing and paperwork.) On the other hand, you have the descendants of the old moonshiners in places like the Smith Mountain Lake area of Virginia, who are still producing shine and skirting the law. Except the shine that they produce now is of much lower quality: basically, industrial strength hooch designed to get you messed up fast and cheap, and sold mostly in poor urban areas. Watman does an excellent job of presenting the case for legalized micro-distilling, while at the same time acknowledging that moonshine production has lost much of the luster it had in the Junior Johnson days. (Yes, he does talk to Junior, who’s licensed his name to a fully legal micro-distiller, and is producing his own branded moonshine.) Watman also discusses his own adventures in moonshine production; he makes me want to see if I can find (or build) a small still of my own. (A quick search of Smartflix does not turn up any how-to videos on still building, though, darn the luck.)
Watman’s book also gets an enthusiastic recommendation from me.
One of the things I’ve noticed in my reading of cocktail history is the emphasis on “punch” during the 18th and 19th centuries. Historically, it seems that the communal drink served in a large bowl was much, much more popular during that time period, and then abruptly dropped off – probably, like many other aspects of 18th and 19th century cocktail culture, killed off by Prohibition.
Frank Bruni, in “The Tipsy Diaries” from today’s NYT, has a nifty profile of David Wondrich, the guy who wrote Imbibe! (a “biography”, for want of a better word, of the legendary early mixologist Jerry Thomas). Wondrich has a new book coming out: Punch: The Delights (and Dangers) of the Flowing Bowl
, and Bruni’s piece ties into that.
There’s a couple of things in the Bruni article that I find interesting. One is that you can apparently still purchase ambergris (I love the description of it as “clotted whale cholesterol”). I was also delighted to read that Wonderich became interested in mixology after reading Barnaby Conrad’s Absinthe: History in a Bottle, which was also one of the books that got me interested in cocktail culture.
Oh, my God! Has bootlegging returned to Harlem? Are folks selling mixtures of methyl alcohol out of the back of bodegas? Are we in for a return of the “jake leg“? (Speaking of Prohibition, methanol, and “jake leg”, Deborah Blum’s The Poisoner’s Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York is a damn spiffy book.)
The answer is…almost certainly not. The NYT‘s concern is that people are selling “potent sweet liquor drinks”, “a blend of various hard liquors and fruit juices”. So, basically, they’re selling cocktails without a license.
By way of Daring Fireball, here’s a vintage ad for Beefeater Gin that explains the proper mixing and enjoyment of the martini.
Preach it, brother!
Mike Steinberger has an interesting article in Slate about Daniel Oliveros and Jeff Sokolin, two prominent NYC wine dealers who specialized in very old and very famous wines (for example, 1945 Mouton Rothschild in magnums).
It seems that their dealership may actually have been a major source of counterfeit wines; this ties into the Koch/Rodenstock affray, previously noted in this space, and well summarized in the article.
Prominent NYC bartender and absinthe advocate arrested for pouring booze on the bar and lighting it.
Chief Byrnes said that the fire, set around 2 a.m. along the roughly 15-foot-long bar, was six feet wide and had flames that leapt two to three feet in the air. It burned for several minutes and then extinguished itself. No one was hurt, and no curtains singed, but Mr. Trummer was arrested and charged with reckless endangerment and criminal nuisance, both misdemeanors.
(The photo at the top of the first linked article is interesting, especially in light of the detail from the second linked article about Mr. Trummer’s previous citations.)
Edited to add: Lawrence sends along a link to this YouTube video of bartenders at Apotheke playing with fire. I’m linking instead of embedding because I find YouTube videos a PITA to get properly embedded.
In my family, there’s a running joke: you know it is a slow news day when the local paper runs a story about the timeless, changeless ways of the Amish.
The NYT covers the sudden Federal interest in changing Amish farming practices. Specifically, cattle runoff from the Amish and Old Order Mennonite farmers around Chesapeake Bay is destroying the bay’s ecosystem; the Feds are trying to persuade the farmers to implement practices that would reduce runoff, and even offering government grants to farmers. Of course…
Persuading plain-sect farmers to install fences and buffers underwritten by federal grants has been challenging because of their tendency to shy from government programs, including subsidies. Members neither pay Social Security nor receive its benefits, for example.
In other news, William Grimes (author of Straight Up or On the Rocks and no slouch on the cocktail front himself) covers the reissue of Bernard DeVoto’s The Hour: A Cocktail Manifesto
.
(That reminds me: has anyone out there read Chasing the White Dog yet?)
Yes. I am sure Mr. Duncan arranged his death with the favorable tax consequences to his children in mind.
Oh, guess what? David Lee Powell has filed a new appeal!
Houston attorney Richard Burr said in a 53-page application for a writ of habeas corpus that Powell has been a model inmate, that he poses no threat to society and that to execute him would violate his constitutional rights prohibiting cruel and unusual punishment.
The results of the XKCD color name survey have been blogged in many places, but I haven’t seen anyone pick up on this yet:
A couple dozen people embedded SQL ‘drop table’ statements in the color names. Nice try, kids.
My faith in humanity is temporarily restored.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Harvey Milk’s bullhorn, and the NYT finally picks up on the “new moonshine” trend.
Also in the NYT: CBS was losing so much money on the NCAA basketball tournament, they actually considered paying ESPN to take over broadcast rights. I’ve wondered for a while now if the current model of payments for sporting events rights can be sustained; this is more evidence that the answer is “No”.
Obit watch: Ernie Harwell.
Edited to add: Patrick Beach, one of the Statesman‘s best writers, interviews Dan Aykroyd about Crystal Head vodka.
The juice is made with Canadian wheat and corn (the latter giving it a suggestion of sweetness), with water from the glacial aquifers of Newfoundland. It’s quadruple distilled, then filtered through charcoal and Herkimer diamonds — quartz crystals, actually, from upstate New York. It’s also certified kosher.
So there’s non-kosher vodka? What do they do; filter it through pig intestines?
Headline in the NYT: “On This Oregon Trail, Pioneers Embrace Organic Wine“.
Oh, sure, organic wine is all fun and games, until you die of dysentery.
In other news, “The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick” is coming in two volumes. Also, Valdez is coming, but that’s another story.
Adding to the “Blood in the Streets” watch, two out of three of our local Fuddrucker’s have closed (Anderson Lane, and I-35 North, between 290 and 183 along the access road). I’m curious; if any of my readers live in cities with Fuddrucker’s (I believe the chain is primarily Southern), have any of your locations closed recently?
Edited to add: Brian Dunbar‘s comment prompted me to do what I should have done earlier. According to the Fuddrucker’s website (Warning! Audio!), they’re more spread out than I thought. And I’d never heard of the Koo Koo Roo chain. Additionally, it appears that Magic Brands LLC, who owned both chains, sold “substantially all of its assets” to Tavistock Group on April 21st (for $40 million), and, at the same time, filed Chapter 11.
As part of Fuddruckers plan to concentrate resources in operations with the strongest potential for growth, the company will use the Chapter 11 process to terminate certain leases and will close 24 corporate-owned Fuddruckers restaurants by April 30, 2010.
Here’s a link to Fuddrucker’s announcement of the sale and Chapter 11 restructuring.
Lawrence predicted a while back that someday, people would pay real money for non-existent (i.e. “virtual”) stuff. I don’t remember if he predicted phase 2 of that: real world lawsuits over rights to non-existent property.
What China needs: strict hammer control laws.
Friday Astros update: 8-13, .381 winning percentage, projected 61.722 wins.
There’s a interesting article in the LAT about why everyone hates Alice Waters. I exaggerate a bit, but there does seem to be substantial and increasing animosity to Ms. Waters.
The Caitlin Flanagan article in the Atlantic can be found here.
My own feelings about Ms. Waters and her movement are…complex, and I haven’t sorted all the way through them yet. But I do want to pull this quote for comment:
…she takes a dim view of In-N-Out, though it touts fresh ingredients and hand-cut French fries. “It’s probably better than any other chain,” she said, “but it’s not real or authentic. I’d rather eat from a street vendor in Sicily.”
When a reviewer starts explaining how the preparation of a quiche Lorraine at the restaurant he has visited differs from the way one prepares a true quiche Lorraine, I always want to interrupt. “But did you like it?” I want to shout. “Did it make you happy? Did you clean your plate?” Any chance that I might someday acquire a serious interest in how closely what I ate resembled the true article disappeared one day at a block party near our house while I was eating some homemade gazpacho and talking about how it differed from the authentic gazpacho one got in Seville. The more I talked about the difference, the faster I wolfed down the gazpacho—until I realized that one way what I was eating differed from authentic gazpacho was that it tasted better.
Lawrence suggested that I might want to link to this Reason piece on the cocktail crackdown.
The makers of Tito’s Handmade Vodka have taken a plea in their pollution case.
Obit watch: John Reed, of the D’Oly Carte Opera Company.
…for a generation of fans, Mr. Reed was the memorable embodiment of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “little man” roles, among them John Wellington Wells, the title character of “The Sorcerer”; Major-General Stanley, the very model of et cetera from “The Pirates of Penzance”; Ko-Ko, the nebbish turned lord high executioner in “The Mikado,” a part he also played in the 1967 film version.
The LAT magazine profiles the man who brought Tiki to America: Ernest Raymond Beaumont Gantt. Mr. Gantt is perhaps better known by the name he acquired later in life: Donn E.R. Beachcomber.
Edited to add: I intended to blog this on Friday, but didn’t have anything to put with it, and it slipped my mind when I was preparing these notes: David Parker’s eulogy for his father, Robert B. Parker.
My father, at that moment in a cut-off sweatshirt covered with muffin crumbs, bacon grease, Flintstones Jelly and beer stains replied without dropping a beat–“Yeah, I’d like to see something by Twyla Tharp, I understand she’s quite innovative”.
(Hattip: Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind.)
ETA2: Also forgot to blog the most recent entry in Derek Lowe’s “Things I Won’t Work With” series: dioxygen diflouride (also known as FOOF).
The paper goes on to react FOOF with everything else you wouldn’t react it with: ammonia (“vigorous”, this at 100K), water ice (explosion, natch), chlorine (“violent explosion”, so he added it more slowly the second time), red phosphorus (not good), bromine fluoride, chlorine trifluoride (say what?), perchloryl fluoride (!), tetrafluorohydrazine (how on Earth. . .), and on, and on. If the paper weren’t laid out in complete grammatical sentences and published in JACS, you’d swear it was the work of a violent lunatic.
Also recommended: the “How Not To Do It” archives. Especially the story of the liquid nitrogen tank at Texas A&M.
Both the pressure relief and rupture disks had failed for some reason in the past, so they’d been removed and sealed off with metal plugs. You may commence shivering now.
The Columbus Blue Jackets (that’s the NHL, for all you non-hockey fans out there) fired coach Ken Hitchcock.
The NYT got around to running an obit for Lt. Colonel Archer. Their obit is interesting:
Mr. Archer ultimately maintained that he shot down five German planes — two on separate days in July 1944 in addition to the three in October 1944 — but said he had not been properly credited with one of those downings in July. Shooting down five planes would have brought him official designation as an ace, making him the only one among the Tuskegee Airmen.
In a 2008 review of wartime military records, Daniel L. Haulman of the Air Force Historical Research Agency found that Mr. Archer, while officially credited with four downings, was among the three leading Tuskegee pilots in shooting down enemy planes. His total was matched by Capt. Joseph D. Elsberry and Capt. Edward L. Toppins.
As you may recall, this directly contradicts the WP obit, which states he was credited with five victories by the Air Force.
Edited to add: The WP published a correction to their obit on February 2nd, which agrees with the NYT obit. However, the WP correction is not noted in the original article; I thought this was against WP policy.
From the “Thank you, Captain Obvious” department: Scotland has a drinking problem. The NYT sees Buckfast Tonic Wine as a symbol.
The drink is 15 percent alcohol by volume, a bit stronger than most wines. Also, each 750 milliliter bottle contains as much caffeine as eight cans of Coke.
From the “Art, damn it! Art!” department: I think I appreciate a good bit of art as much as the next guy, but this Giacometti bronze just seems to me to be really ugly. Maybe the photos are bad.
The “Hello Kitty” chainsaw. I want. (And Hello Kitty Hell gets added to the blogroll. Thanks to my great and good friend Commvault Bryan.)
James Arthur Ray, the Arizona sweat lodge guy, has been charged with three counts of manslaughter.
Did you know that Men at Work’s “Down Under” sampled a children’s tune called “Kookaburra Sits In The Old Gum Tree”? Have you even heard “Kookaburra Sits In The Old Gum Tree”?
Edited to add: I’m sure this will be blogged elsewhere, but it is too good to pass up. Sun CEO resigns. By Twitter. In haiku. (Hattip: Lawrence.)
Edited to add 2: Also from the “Thank you, Captain Obvious” department is this actual headline from the LAT home page: “Stew is better without jimsonweed hallucinogen“. (Link goes to actual article which has a different headline.)
(I had originally considered calling this post “Rum, S—-y, and the Lash” but I couldn’t find any good articles about whipping. Plus, I don’t want to get filtered.)
Did you know the NYT had a “Winter Drinks Issue” in the Dining section? Neither did I. Articles include one about the rise of rum, and an excellent article by Harold McGee about vacuum distillation.
By way of Jimbo, here’s a good article on Richard Loeb (of Leopold and Loeb fame) and the greatest lead never published.
Just in case you were wondering what Roseanne Barr is doing, you now have your answer.
Edited to add: I knew I forgot something. I won’t be watching this tonight. (I don’t, and won’t, have cable; I’ve asked someone if they’d be willing to record it for me.) That won’t stop me from linking to Alan Sepinwall’s review:
…with his new reality show “Steven Seagal: Lawman,” Seagal has cemented his position as an accidental comedy savant. It’s easily the funniest thing he’s done since the climactic speech from “On Deadly Ground” (his infamous directorial debut about evil oil companies polluting the Alaskan wilderness), and one of the more entertaining additions to the Has-Beens On Parade reality sub-genre.