KD1191

Perhaps it's a victim of my preconception of what agricole (even a well aged one) should be. My only point of reference with that many years on it would be the Saint James Extra Hors D'Age, which has so much more force and depth than the Guadeloupe. Delicate and agricole don't go together in my limited experience. Yes, indeed. It's not a peat monster, and I don't know if I'd feel as strongly about it if I hadn't just been drinking a lot of other rummy rums, but blindfolded I'd very likely have guessed it was Scotch.

As stated above, I'm much more of a whiskey guy, but had some very interesting rums last night while visiting Three Dots and a Dash in Chicago. I'd mentioned being intrigued by the bottle on the left at a bar in Minneapolis last week, but couldn't stomach the $50 they were asking for a pour to find out if it was any good. Paul offered me a taste, along with a couple other things he thought I'd like better. Turns out he was spot on. The Guadeloupe was somewhere between pedestrian and unpleasant. Not like any agricole I've had. The Duncan Taylor 2000 Single Cask from Hampden distillery was something of a revelation. High ester, lovely proof (106.2). Complexity that makes this rum something I could sip day after day without tiring of, but still rather light. And, the "Caribbean 2003"...which actually smelled suspiciously like a Cuban rum. Perhaps, because it IS (or mostly is?) a Cuban rum. It's hard to set aside the 'forbidden fruit' element of these things and judge them objectively, but I thought it was tasty. Cuban rum is my baseline for rum. Typically, it's not terribly interesting, but it's delicious. Here, the flavors were accentuated in ways that clearly pointed in the direction of Scotland, where it was aged. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but mentioned that there was something Scottish about it (at which point he went and got the bottle below). If you tasted me on this blind, I'd have told you it was Scotch. Nothing crazy peaty or medicinal, but the level of smoke just clearly indicated this was Scotch. Not undelicious, just something completely out of left field for me.

Quite fond of the Roffignac. Into an ice-filled Collins glass go: 2 oz Cognac (I reach for Rye more often) 1 oz Raspberry syrup (homemade grenadine also works) Top with seltzer, swizzle & serve.

This thread reminds me of the fried egg recipe in Modernist Cuisine that calls for separating the white/yolk and cooking at different temperatures before recombining to serve. Is it possible that through much time, effort and/or aforethought that we could reliably create drinks that surpass those created by traditional methods? Yes. I think being able to hit your exact sweet spot on a stirred drink by using freezer-stored spirits and a precise amount of chilled water is fun, but I also know that if my Negroni tasted exactly the same every time it would get old. Level of effort, return on investment, tyranny of the status quo...call it what you will. I'm not sold on this revolution.

That's very true in theory, but the intersection of people who don't care where their rye is made and the people willing to do a blind tasting to determine their favorite has to be awfully small. I would wager that very few people proclaiming they drink Templeton for the taste are making that proclamation from a place that involves choosing it blind, in which case the quasi-deceptive marketing is clearly an influence. In most cases I'm a live and let live person, but the thing that bugs me about the instant case is when uneducated consumers (or dishonest marketing) lump distillers like Todd Leopold who are actually making the effort to craft a special rye into the same group as the folks who only know how to buy and market mass-produced product. It's exceedingly irksome.

I'm worried because the recipe for the At Peace With What Once Was has you pouring the flaming Chartreuse on top before you garnish with mint, and your mint does not appear to be singed.

But...but...the burned mint is the best part of the Vellocet.

I don't know...especially with all the research that shows our perceptions of taste are heavily influenced by our preconceptions about cost, etc. I guess to test it we'd need to find someone out there who prefers Templeton to non-watered down MGP, and who's never heard the whole 'Made in Iowa for Capone' shtick.

Well, I didn't buy it, and it was actually purchased in the fall of 2012, but this finally landed on my bar this past Friday (had to be hand delivered by the purchaser and various events conspired to prevent that for close to two years). Everything I thought about it back here is true. It has a bold rye flavor. In fact, those used to LDI/MGP might be put off by how much this actually tastes like the grain. The berry notes (raspberry, strawberry) are clear as day, as is a chocolate undertone. The finish is remarkably elegant for something that only spent two years in the barrel. Todd is truly dedicated to his craft, and this bottle absolutely shows it.

Right, they are very well respected & reviewed, but you don't have people sleeping on sidewalks and trading their first born to get a bottle like PVW or some BTACs, yet.

Last night it was a pour of the 2014 Limited Edition Single Barrel from Four Roses. While perhaps not the revelation of the 2013 (one of the best bourbons I've ever tasted, bar none), I did remark to the bartender that if it was made by Buffalo Trace it'd never even land on shelves. Then, a 'Spiker and Sponge', made with Dickel Rye, Peach Shrub, Lemon, and Honey, topped with a splash of local Rye IPA and Peychaud's.

Last night, with NY Strips au Poivre and sauteed mushrooms. Your typical pinot is not going to hold up to cracked peppercorn & Cognac sauce covered bone-in steaks, but this is not a typical pinot. It has wonderful grilled meat, black pepper (I locked onto Nepali Timur, specifically), Bergamot, balsa and even light cedar wood aromas...these meaty, woodsy flavors continue on the palate and are joined by overripe strawberry. A silky texture on the entry gave way to plenty of acidity to cut through the richness of the meal and a long, lingering finish with just enough tannin to know it will comfortably age for several years more. 2010 Littorai The Pivot Vineyard Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir

It has been a couple weeks, but I forgot to mention the special cuvée of Chartreuse épiscopale I bought recently. It's the 2013 edition created for les Fous de Chartreuse de Paris, an appreciation society. They frequently commission a blend of aged green and yellow, but the ratio tends to vary from year to year...this edition is heavier on the green, somewhere around 3 to 1, I believe. It's bottled at 88 proof, and very sippable. A lot of the flavor and aromatics of a Green VEP, but quite a bit less heat while not being a syrupy as Yellow VEP can get.

Stuck at home browsing through my Twitter feed full of folks having tons of fun, I came up with what I'll call the: "Who Needs Tales of the Cocktail?" Smash 60 ml Inner Circle Blue Dot Rum 15 ml Yellow Chartreuse* 10 ml Mezcal Vida 1/2 of a Lemon, quartered (plus a wheel for garnish) 12 Blueberries (plus a few for garnish) 7 Mint Leaves (plus a sprig for garnish) Everything but the mint was muddled in a tin, then the mint and ice were added, and the mix well shaken. I double strained onto crushed ice, added a mint sprig, lemon wheel and a few blueberries. *The bottle in the picture (vintage 1999) is nearly full. It's just so pale that it's closer to the quasi-mythical White Chartreuse than any other bottle of Yellow I've ever seen. I have it on good authority that the monks may have been experimenting with alternate, less successful methods of imparting yellow color around this time period (possibly due to saffron price hikes).

I'm also having a hard time imagining linkages between these two. If I was drawing connections between Amarone and the Jura, I'd look to Vin de Paille, which has similar raisination and none of the oxidated nature of Vin Jaune.

Angostura is getting into the potable (outside Washington Island and cocktail geek havens) bitters game.

This, but with Miller High Life. ETA: Craig beat me to it.

I'll be no help here, as mine came from the Fauchon near Madeleine in Paris.

Welcome. Old alcohol is very hard to value. For one, due to myriad and complex laws, it's very difficult to sell. For another, much of it is terrible. I'm on a number of mailing lists for professional resellers of antique bottles, and have found that with rare exceptions (mostly whisk(e)y-related, though much older cognacs also rate) the value is in the bottle more often than the contents. I know very little about Bisquit, but based on this listing, I would suggest it's not worth troubling too much over. My recommendation would be to try it. And, if it's any good, drink it.

It's an aperitif from Provence, made from peaches and their leaves with a white wine base. It's bottled at 15% ABV and I've found it can be used like a vermouth, but works best where you might be looking for a fruitier result.

Picked up a bottle of Lillet Rosé today. Been experimenting with it and RinQuinQuin a la Pêche...they play nicely modified with a splash of lemonade or sparkling water. A delicious way to spend an afternoon.

Had a very nice, summery cocktail at The Catbird Seat last night, which was an outstanding pairing with a dish of heirloom tomato slices topped with a bit of tomato stalk broth & charred country ham bone scrapings. It was described as: Lillet Rosé, Watermelon, Lemon, Blanco Tequila, Laird's Bonded

Last night at Two Ten Jack in Nashville (sensational ramen, by the way), I had the Take & Nickel: Nikka 12 yr, Appleton Estate, Rare Wine Savannah Madeira, Cherry Heering, Benedictine, Lapsang Souchong Bitters I spotted this on the menu after enjoying something quite bitter with Cynar that was on tap. I expressed my concern that it might be too sweet, but the bartender insisted it was "stout." On first sip, I would have said this drink was in fact the epitome of "sweetness," but the smoke & earth of the bitters rushed to the rescue on the finish leaving me quite intrigued, and with an empty glass in short order.

Peaches are finally starting to taste right, so I made an old favorite: 2 oz Elijah Craig 3/4 oz lemon -1/2 oz simple 1/2 a small peach 2 sprigs mint Muddle all but the mint. Add leaves from one mint sprig, ice and shake gently. Pour (no strainer) into frosty glass, add 2nd mint sprig & julep straw.

A Campari Cooler [Campari, Carrot, Lemon, Orange Blossom] at Grain Store, in London: This was complex, yet refreshing and delicious. The essence of 'orange' (taste the color!) with a bitter edge. Thanks for the recommendation, PV. Lovely spot, but would like to go back on a weekday. Lots of prams and ladies brunching yesterday, with a very strange avant garde fashion shoot thrown in for good measure.