slkinsey

The only chicken and dumplings I've ever known were my grandmother's. Elaine Mills Kinsey was born in Canton, Texas in 1902, and lived in the State of Texas every year of her life until she passed in 1999. She was a schoolteacher for her entire professional career. As you may imagine of anyone who grew up and started her teaching career in Texas during those extremely lean and rugged times, she was quite expert at cooking something very good with very little. Her chicken and dumplings, as well as her chicken fried steak, were among a list of dishes for which her versions defined the category in my culinary lexicon. I have neither made nor consumed either one since 1999. Well, now I'm going to start. I'm going to start with chicken and dumplings because, upon reading this thread, I noted any number of recipes made with what appear to be biscuit-like, quenelle-shaped dumplings. Knowing this to be an Abomination before the Lord, I quickly fired off a missive to the paterfamilias of the Kinseys with a request for the Ancestral Chicken and Dumpling Recipe. Herewith, my grandmother's recipe, in her own words: Stew a chicken in plenty of water Strain off about a quart of broth and bring to a boil Measure 2 cups flour + salt + pepper to taste Add enough boiling broth to make a soft dough Knead a few times Roll out like piecrust Cut in about 1 inch strips, then into about 3 inch segments Drop dumplings one at a time in briskly boiling broth Simmer around 12 minutes When done, add about 1/2 cup milk + chicken pieces My father adds that it's important to make sure that the dough is rolled out thinner than you think, as it is easy to have them too thick. He also adds: "I think there is a whole chapter of Leviticus about what the Lord is going to do with anyone who makes chicken-and-dumplings with dropped biscuit-like objects. Not for the faint of heart to contemplate." I would add that you need to make sure you have a very flavorful chicken. That's it. No fancy herbs and spices; no onions, carrots or other vegetables; no broth other than what the chicken makes for itself; no leavening; no quenelles; no browning of the dumplings; no bolt of lightning coming down from above to punish chicken and dumpling heresy. Simple and one of my favorite foods as a child. I hope to make some later this week. What's amusing (to us anyway) is that my grandmother didn't like chicken. Her very first teaching job, straight out of high school, was all 12 grades in a one-room schoolhouse, to which she transported herself on horseback. Part of her compensation from the town (if you could call it a town) was room and board. But the lady of the house had a habit of undercooking her fried chicken, which put my grandmother off chicken for the rest of her life.

Right. I think it's worth noting that there are radically different dumpling traditions. My grandmother, who lived just about the entire twentieth century in Texas, made her dumplings in the unleavened "thick noodle" style. As I recall, they were made with a dough comprised of flour, cracked pepper and some boiling chicken broth from stewing the chicken. The starch from the dumplings was the only thickener. My grandmother's C&D, along with her chicken fried steak, was one of my favorite dishes from the Texas side of the family. I think she made it just about every time she came to visit us in Boston. There was a little milk added to the broth, as I recall.

As far as I can tell, there has always been a variety of proofs and age statements on Seagram's gin products. The "Extra Dry" seems to be the one that is 80 proof and "barrel mellowed" whereas the "Distillers Reserve" is 102 proof and not "barrel mellowed." According to the Seagram's Gin web site, Distiller's Reserve is still 102 proof. But I've heard changing statements as to which was which and what proof was what any number of times. It's a bit odd if they're turning Distiller's Reserve into more or less high proof Extra Dry.

A lot of this has to do with the way the culture is fed. Most people, unfortunately, feed their starters in the worst possible way: by "low dilution." To explain: The optimum conditions for the growth of sourdough microflora is when the amount of "old starter" is equal to, or less than 20%. This means, for example, that if you have 10 grams or 1 tablespoon of "old starter" you should feed that with 80 grams or 4 tablespoons (or more) of "new food." Most people do exactly the opposite -- they hold back 50 grams or a quarter cup (or more) of "old starter" and feed with 50 grams or a quarter cup (or less) of "new food." This leads to poor vitality and health of the sourdough microflora and creates conditions that make it highly likely that the original culture microorganisms will be replaced by other microorganisms that are better suited to the low dilution environment. Most any culture that is refreshed with 50% or less of "new food" at each feeding will not be able to sustain a population of L. sanfranciscensis[/i[, and will be taken over by a more low-pH-tolerant strain -- which of course will result in a change in the fermentation characteristics of the culture.

cocktailDB has a good guide to glassware, etc, right here.

It is by law (PGI) classified as a Plymouth Gin and which has a different flavour profile from your typical London Dry gins in the way that it is not as dry and tends to be slightly softer. Yep. What he said. Plymouth and London dry gins are fairly similar today, it must be said, but one wonders how true that was in the past. I suspect that there has been not insignificant stylistic drift in both. For all intents and purposes, most any gin that is not genever or Old Tom would be considered a London dry gin or a Plymouth gin. Here's where it gets tricky: Plymouth gin is defined by law as being produced only in Plymouth, England. Other than that restriction I am not sure there are any stylistic requirements for Plymouth gin. Theoretically, if a gin identical in flavor to Tanqueray were distilled in Plymouth, England, it could call itself a "Plymouth gin." As for the style... Since Plymouth is the only gin distillery in Plymouth, England, their house style more or less defines the style for the entire category of Plymouth gin. Whether the features of modern-day "Plymouth gin the brand" are representative of "Plymouth gin the historical style" is a meaningful question. There were once, apparently, a number of gin distilleries operating in Plymouth, but they were all bought up and consolidated under the present brand. Clearly there must have been a range, but within that range there must have been some common features. It's too bad there aren't more Plymouth gins to constitute a meaningful categorical style. I wonder if a company selling a "Plymouth-style" gin would be able to do that, similar to "Trappist-style" beed. Of course, since Plymouth is also the name of the only company selling Plynouth gin, which the competing product would be promoting by virtue of such a description, this seems unlikely. The result is that, for dry gins in production today, there is one brand in the category of Plymouth gin, and everything else could be called a London dry gin. This can be a bit confusing, however, because I have to believe there are any number of gins out there that could be considered closer to the Plymouth style (which, as Adam says, is generally considered to mean "less dry, softer, less emphatically flavored") than the London dry style. Nevertheless, they're still all called London dry gins except for the Plymouth brand.

Again, I hasten to point out that this may be true in places where you can get full-strength Tanqueray and Beefeater, but here, where they're both watered down to 40%, Plymouth is both brighter and fuller flavoured than either one, which is why I stock it as my standard go-to gin. The fact that the price difference is less than a dollar only makes that decision easier. Don't get me wrong... Plymouth is great product. But it's a little sad, I think, if due to your local market Plymouth is the fullest-flavored gin you can get your hands on. Because, in the range of gins, the flavoring of Plymouth is not particularly emphatic. More to my original point, however, the OP lives somewhere where full strength Tanqueray and Beefeater are available. Isn't the lack of a juniper-forward flavour what makes it a "new generation" gin? I mean, if it were a real juniper bomb, it'd just be a London Dry. For instance, where would you class Junipero? I've only ever tried it once, but I seem to recall finding it pretty juniper-forward at the time. I would argue that the lack of a juniper-forward flavor profile makes it "not gin." For example, 27 C.F.R. § 5.22[c] says that gin "shall derive its main characteristic flavor from juniper berries" (emphasis added). I don't have a problem with brands of gin that want to use additional or distinctively different secondary botanicals, even at a fairly high level. But at the point where you can't tell if there's juniper in there or not, it ceases to become "gin" and becomes "something else." My suspicion is that these products are designed for flavored vodka drinkers who don't particularly like gin, but like the idea of drinking gin.

Shalmanese beat me to the punch. You shouldn't use "sweet" onions if you are going to cook them, because they not only have less sugar but less flavor overall. "Sweet" onions should only be used if they will be consumed raw. Otherwise they're not so special.

It's always amusing to me to hear Tanqueray and Beefeater spoken of as thought they are second-tier products. In fact, I would suggest that they are almost universally acknowledged as the two pinnacles of the London dry gin style. Don't let the price difference with Plymouth (actually not a London dry gin) fool you... as recently as 2-3 years ago, Plymouth was significantly less expensive than Tanqueray and Beefeater. The increase in price was, I am given to understand, a deliberate move on the part of Plymouth to increase the perceived status of the brand (much in the same way that vodkas are often "ranked" according to price in the minds of most consumers). For my part, this has sadly led to a serious decrease in home consumption of Plymouth because, while I think it's a great product, the softness makes it less versatile than the "ginnier" London dry gins. Strangely, the vast preponderance of "new generation" gins deemphasize the juniper component -- many to the point where it is barely detectable -- and bring citrus or "exotic herb/spice" flavors to the forefront. Whether or not a product whose clear primary flavoring is not juniper can properly call itself a "gin" is a serious question in my mind, and I usually find myself answering "no." I'm still waiting for a "new generation" gin to come out that goes in the opposite direction. I'd love to have one that's a real juniper bomb.

Ah yes, I forgot to mention that. Gomme syrup does not do well with straight extra-high proof spirits. Gum arabic is highly soluble in water but not soluble in most other solvents, including ethanol. This means that it it is soluble in water-ethanol mixtures only up to about 60% ethanol (i.e., 120 proof). The practical implication is that if you want to make a drink with overproof booze and gomme syrup, you should stir the booze with ice for a while before adding the gomme.

Pegu Club is a jiggering bar, so there is really little need for repeated tasting. When you will see the bartenders tasting there is when they are working on something or creating something all'improvviso. That said, I have been to Pegu Club many, many times and see bartenders tasting cocktails plenty of times. Maybe you just missed it. Or perhaps you were expecting them to taste every one. Some bartenders insist on repeated tasting to "correct" cocktails (usually freepouring bartenders -- you may draw your own conclusions) but I have my doubts as to whether this makes much sense. Yes, it makes sense to taste every so often to make sure that the lemon juice hasn't gone off or whatever. But there is a meaningful problem with how well the bartender's tastes as to balance will accord with each individual customer's tastes as to balance, and there is the additional problem of palate fatigue. Differences in taste on the order of what you describe (i.e., that could be fixed to your liking with an eighth ounce of lemon juice) are well within the boundaries of the two problems I describe above. Which is to say that it's entirely possible that the bartender may have tasted your drink and found that it balanced just fine. Or not. There's no way of knowing. The point is that tasting and "micro-adjusting" cocktails is as much pixie dust, performance art and bartender self-aggrandizement as it is anything else. Of course, it's absolutely possible that a minor mistake was made with the Tantris Sidecar. It's also possible that the formulation wasn't quite to your tastes. The Tantris Sidecar was probably created something like 6-8 years ago. That's a very, very long time for this era in the cocktail revival. The Tantris was cutting-edge when it was created, and it's still a brilliant drink, but may be starting to show its age. Audrey has remarked to me a few times that she thinks it might be time to "update the Tantris." The thing is that it works as a basically sweet drink, and it's a great introduction to the new wave of classic mixology for those just coming to it. I'm with you on chips of ice. Not my favorite unless you use a technique designed specifically to produce very fine chips (not actually as hard as some would have one believe).

You can normally get it already in fine powder form. Definitely to not want the large crystals.

. . . It's more likely to be that you're comparing dashes from different bottles and that's where the problem lies; A dash of Angostura Aromatic/Orange will typically give you around 1ml (my testing gave me 20ml of Angostura with just 18-22 dashes) The bottle I use for my Boker's took around 50 dashes to get to 20ml. I like the control this gives however I am looking for another bottle at the moment. The Bitter Truth bottle took around 40 dashes to get to 20ml. I absolutely get that not all bitters bottle dashes are the same. What I'm saying is that two dashes of Bitter Truth aromatic bitters still do not carry the same amount of flavor as one dash of Angostura bitters. From both a bartender viewpoint and someone who compounds bitters, in my opinion there has to be a distinct difference between what I'd quantify as a tincture (a one flavour bottling) versus a true bitters (layers of flavour). When I buy bitters I don't expect a singular flavour, I expect complexity and bitterness. I expect that as well. All I'm saying is that if you're going to call it orange bitters, it needs to impart a meaningfully detectable orange note to the cocktail. Otherwise, it's like eating a piece of chocolate cake where you have to strain to detect the presence of chocolate. Now, obviously there is a range here. If it's too focused on the primary flavor, it has no complexity and might as well be a tincture. If it's too complicated, then it loses a meaningful connection to the claimed primary flavoring. Now, it strikes me that there is a nice, fat middleground in between these conditions. But nevertheless, there are examples of both extremes in the market. I'd say the reason they are not 'must-haves' is because they haven't been around as long as Angostura Aromatic or Peychaud's, and aren't as sought after as orange bitters have been the last 10-20 years and the multitude of drinks calling for them isn't as vast as those calling for those mentioned. However, things are slowly changing and the new bitters are becoming a staple for many bartenders, on many cocktail lists, all around the globe. If you're a bartender serving lots of specialty cocktails, or a home bartender with an interest in this side of mixology, then there's no reason not to have as many different bitters as you can find. As I said, I own around 30 different bitters. And sure, you can decide that you like a certain cocktail best with Angostura orange bitters. That's what I do and that's what you do. But that's a far cry from making the possession of 6 different brands of orange bitters a "must have" for even most specialty cocktail bars. Similarly, I do think it's a meaningful question as to whether different brands of aromatic bitters are all so terribly different rather than being variations around a central theme. It's nice to be able to have some subtle differences in a cocktail depending on whether the aromatic bitters I use is Angostura or Fee's whiskey barrel or Bitter Truth or your Boker's repro or Bitter Truth JT or Hess House or Fee's regular or John Deragon's Abbott's repro or Amargo Chuncho or Hermes. I have and use all of these. But it's a bit like having ten different kinds of black pepper. Which is cool, don't get me wrong! But, while it's nice to have ten different kinds of pepper, it's unclear that one needs ten different kinds of pepper. Or perhaps a better example (albeit perhaps one lost on non-Americans) would be ketchup. There are a zillion kinds of ketchup, and I suppose there might be hamburger fans who felt that it was essential to have ten different kinds of ketchup. But there are few compelling reasons not to have Heinz. For some people it may be different, of course. And time will tell whether some of these other brands of aromatic bitters come to be seen as cocktail essentials on the same level as Angostura. But my strong suspicion is that the vast majority of people would still choose Angostura if they only could have one kind of aromatic bitters. It's the most versatile, the most intenss, the highest in quality and still the standard by which all other bitters are measured. That's a pretty high bar to clear. What I imagine we will see is that some bottlings of some brands will increasingly be seen as "second tier" standards, with the first tier being Angostura and Peychaud's. I'd say that there is still some room for a truly balanced orange bitters to take the lead, since it seems a bit odd that most everyone's standard orange bitters is a blend of two. None of the currently available orange bitters seems entirely satisfactory on its own. So, it's possible, for example, that everyone will decide that a bottle of chocolate bitters is a necessity and that the Bittermens bottling will become the preferred brand. Time will tell. There will also probably also be a market for reproduction bitters for use by cocktailians with an interest in those areas. This, of course, is made a bit difficult by the fact that different reproductions can be quite different and that anyone can make them. Your Boker's repro is very good and having some success, but it is of course possible for someone else to come along and make a different Boker's repro. Not to mention that reproduction bitters can be made by bars and enthusiasts, so a bar might decide to make their own Boker's repro. This I wholeheartedly agree with. That's more or less the substance of my point. If you're putting together your cocktail cabinet, you need Angostura, Peychaud's and an orange bitters. Even as justifiably proud as you are of your efforts, I can't think you would recommend to someone that they would be better off with your Boker's reproduction instead of Angostura as an aromatic bitters if it were a choice between the two. So everything else becomes some kind of "extra" rather than an "essential." Do you want to make the Loop Tonic? Get the BT celery bitters. Do you want to dip your toes into Jerry Thomas-era cocktails? Get your Boker's reproduction. Do you really like Angostura but want some variation? Try the Fee's whiskey barrel aged aromatic bitters. Looking for bitters that work well with tequila? The BT grapefruit bitters are a good choice. And so on. But it does make it difficult to answer in any definitive kind of way that such-and-such are the brands of new-generation bitters that are "must haves."

I haven't tried the Scrappy's grapefruit bitters, but I do have the Bittermens grapefruit bitters and like them quite a bit. Although, again, I must say that the Bittermens grapefruit bitters aren't exactly bursting with grapefruit flavor. I have around 3 or 4 different grapefruit bitters, and I can't say I find myself reaching for them all that often. Sometimes it's fun to put a short dash of grapefruit bitters into something like a Blinker. There's a fine line, it would appear, between making bitters that are one-note and making bitters that are so multi-note that the claimed primary flavor is obscured. Take the BT celery bitters, for example... they are good bitters, no doubt. But if a bitters is going to be called celery bitters, I expect to be able to dash some into a glass of seltzer, taste the seltzer and say: "celery!" This you can do with Scrappy's celery bitters. On the other hand, some people might say it is not as "complex" (whatever that means, and whether or not it is actually always desirable) compared to the Bitter Truth celery bitters. Another good example is to consider Angostura orange (too one-note) and Bitter Truth orange (not focused enough) bitters. Neither of these provides a particularly compelling reason to move away from the standard "NY mix" of 50-50 Regan's and Fee Brothers orange bitters, which preparation has depth, complexity and bitterness but also a forthright and focused orange component right out front. When I use up my current bottles of Angostura and BT orange bitters (which will take forever, as I rarely use them) they will probably not be replaced. It's interesting and noteworthy that, in this vast proliferation of bitters we have seen coming into the community in the past few years, not too many of them have been interesting, versatile and good enough to become "must have" bar staples. I have around 30 different bitters at home, but still go through far more Angostura, Peychaud's and Regan's/Fee's orange than all the other bitters combined. A lot of the other bitters are nice things to have in your repertoire, but they're a bit like specialty salt in that once you have fine salt, kosher salt and coarse salt everything else falls in the category of "extra touches." Will a cocktail made with Fee Brothers whiskey barrel aged bitters or Bittermens Mole bitters be different from one made with Angostura? Sure. But not so hugely different that these other brands are essentials. This is why it's hard to recommend "just a few" of these specialty bitters. None of them is something you "must have" in your repertoire the way you "must have" orange bitters. So the best thing to do is figure out what cocktails you have been curious about and by the bitters accordingly. If you are really wanting to make the Loop Tonic, then by all means that's a great reason to buy the BT celery bitters. Whether you'll use them in many other things? Harder to say.

Try it with both! (Personally, I would favor the corenwyn).

I doubt very much that it's a strategy to make more money by going through more product. Similarly, I don't think it's necessarily an authenticity question either. I am not one lucky enough to have tasted actual historical 100+ year old bitters, but most of the best-researched recreations I have tasted (including some informed by the results of gas chromatography-mass spectrometry analysis of historical samples) have been quite intense in flavor. As for the Bitter Truth "Jerry Thomas Decanter Bitters" -- this isn't a historically faithful recreation so much as it appears to be an attempt to evoke "Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter Bitters." The reason it was called "decanter bitters" is because it was meant to be poured out of a decanter and consumed by the pony glass, not dispensed into cocktails by the dash. The bitters are quite easy to make, although somewhat dangerous to consume in quantity due to the snake-root. The recipe simply states that you take a quarter-pound of raisins, 2 ounces of cinnamon, 1 ounce of snake-root, 1 ounce of clove, 1 ounce of allspice, and one each of cut-up lemon and orange. Then you stuff that all into a decanter and fill with Santa Cruz rum to infuse, replenishing with rum as it is consumed (presumably until the infusion loses strength, at which point you make a new batch). I don't quite understand the reason why, in particular, the Bitter Truth bitters seem to be so much less intense than other brands (I also think, FWIW, that their bottles give a smaller dash, which I am sure contributes). I recently bought some Scrappy's bitters (celery, cardamom and lavender varieties) and even a few drops of the celery bitters makes a difference and imparts a distinct celery note.

No, a touch of a high temperature-friendly oil just before tossing in the steak is a good idea. I think that when he said "non-coated pan" he was referring to nonstick (i.e., with a coating of PTFE).

In general, I find the Bitter Truth bitters to be a bit faint. They're good, but you have to use quite a bit more of them than you would other brands to make an impact. The Bittermen's Grapefruit and Mole bitters are well worth buying. Even a short dash of the mole bitters can bring forward chocolate notes in a drink. The Bitter Truth celery bitters are good... my issue with them is that they don't particularly taste of celery or celery seed. When CocktailKingdom gets in another batch of Scrappy's celery bitters, I would recommend acquiring those. The JT "decanter bitters" are also good and interesting although perhaps even more retiring than the other BT formulations.

Alberta Premium and Alberta Springs are both 100% rye, but the grains in the mash bill have less to do with the differences between Canadian whisky and American straight rye whiskey than the production process. As far as I've found, there's no Canadian whisky that tastes anything like an American rye, regardless of what grains are used. If you want to make cocktails that call for American rye, your best bet is probably to go with a spicier Bourbon (think Bulleit, not Maker's) and leave the Canadian whisky at the liquor store. That said, I do quite like Alberta Springs, as far as Canadian whisky goes The Alberta products would best be described as "Canadian blended whiskies made with 100% rye." They don't have much in common with straight rye whiskey. Which is to say that, while the grain bill may be 100% rye, it is still made by blending ~95% ABV neutral spirits with a smaller amount of ~65% ABV "flavoring whiskey." American straight rye whiskey is not 100% rye, by the way, but there is no blending allowed.

Shelf of the cabinet. Keep in mind that the gomme syrup will be stronger than 2:1 (with the gum arabic preventing recrystallization) and that sugar is a preservative. I also floated a 1/4 inch of vodka on top of the sugar.

If you want to make actual gomme syrup, there are recipes for that posted elsewhere in these forums. It makes a lot of gomme, but on the other hand it keeps quite well in a sealed bottle (I had a bottle of gomme on a shelf for a year and it was fine). Other than that, you can add it in smaller amounts to syrups, etc. in order to make them silkier, help them stay emulsified and keep from separating. It's hard to give definitive amounts. I usually eyeball it and see how it works. I find that the best way to "quick hydrate" the gum arabic so that it doesn't clump up is to put the liquid in the blender, turn it on and drizzle in the gum arabic powder. Then you can go to the stove, add the sugar plus whatever else and bring it all up to heat. As for cocktailian applications... well, that's about it. I have thought from time to time of making a pure gum arabic syrup to use as a non-sweetening "silkening/emulsifying/foaming" agent, but have not got around to experimenting with that as yet.

This comes up from time to time, but it's important to note: Canada has a tradition of calling certain whiskies "rye" that are in fact not straight rye whiskies, but rather Canadian blended whiskies containing not all that much rye grain and not having all that much rye character. Not the same thing at all. If you make a cocktail calling for rye whiskey using Gibson's or some other Canadian blended called "rye" it will not be the same at all. This is not to say that these Canadian blends aren't or can't be pretty good. But they're not "rye whiskey."

You bring up some interesting questions, Adam. Rather than try to address all of them point-by-point, perhaps I can articulate some of my views on freepouring. (Admins: If you would like to split this to a different thread, please do and feel free to edit my post accordingly - slk). I believe we both agree that "freepouring" can be defined as some way of portioning the constituents for a cocktail without any measurement or reference to visual landmarks. This is to say that a freepouring bartender ought to be able to pour accurately even if completely blinded from seeing the mixing vessel. Understanding the foregoing there is a useful way that we can characterize the difference between freepouring and jiggering: jiggering bartenders are making measurements and freepouring bartenders are making judgments. The freepouring bartenders may be making very accurate judgments (I'll adress that infra), but they are judgements and not measurements nevertheless. When we measure something, we "ascertain the quantity of a unit of material via calculated comparison with respect to a standard." If there is no objective standard and no means of directly making a direct comparison of the quantity of the material with respect to that standard, then one is not measuring. Now. Measuring is not always the easiest thing in the world. Most importantly, one has to have a reliable objective standard, and one must do the comparison properly. With respect to jiggering, one must consistently fill the jigger to the top with no underpour or overspill. This isn't necessarily the easiest thing in the world, but it isn't rocket science either. Most anyone can be readily trained to jigger accurately in all conditions with a very low percent of error. They only need to be reminded to make sure they hold the jigger straight, fill it to the top by the side of the mixing tin so that no overpour goes into the tin, and then to dump the jigger out into the mixing tin without spilling. The techniques for this are quite simple to learn, master and maintain. And a properly filled jigger will always be a properly filled jigger. So, let's turn our attention to freepouring. As I said before, this is a judgment, not a measurement. Reduced to its most basic level, a freepouring bartender is using some methodology of judging when he thinks he has poured a certain amount of liquid. There are various techniques that freepouring bartenders employ to help them make these judgments more accurately -- most of these some variant on the "count system" using beats, words, numbers, etc. This is a way of substituting a subjective standard for an objective standard, and then measuring against that subjective standard in order to make the judgment. It is possible with a great deal of regular and intensive training to become quite accurate at freepouring using these techniques and under the right conditions. How many freepouring bartenders there are out there who do accuracy competitions, practice before every shift using a variety of bottles, own their own testing equipment so they can practice at home, etc. in order to attain and maintain this level of accuracy is a serious question, however. And, I hasten to point out, this investment of time and training is all in order to approach the reproducable accuracy of a jiggering bartender. Why did I say "under the right conditions" above? One of the difficulties when one is judging and using that subjective standard, is that the subjective standard can be a moving target. A 1 ounce jigger will always hold 1 ounce of liquid when it is filled to the top. An internal two count, however, will not always take the same amount of time. The duration of that two count will be influenced by external conditions. This is a well understood psychological phenomenon. Let me make an example from my own principal field: Certain comic operas are frequently staged with the performers running about the stage (young lovers chased by an angry father, etc.), and then there will be a pause in the music while something happens, and the music resumes in a new section at a faster tempo. Very often, and especially once the show is on the stage before the public, there is the significant danger that the singers will start the new section far too fast -- although this frequently doesn't become apparent to them until the major trainwreck later in the piece when everyone runs into some passages that they can't execute at that tempo. This, I should hasten to point out, is not an amateur mistake -- it happens occasionally at the highest levels. It happens less frequently at the highest levels because those singers are trained to take the tempo from a more objective measure: they look at the conductor. Why does this happen? It happens because when the body is full of adrenalin and the pulse is racing and one has been engaged in a lot of frantic movement around the stage, it affects the performers' subjective sense of tempo. Of course, many performers know about this phenomenon and attempt to compensate by deliberately forcing themselves to choose a tempo that seems slower than the one they feel they want to choose in the moment. This can lead to mistakes in the other direction or, more frustratingly, doesn't seem to make much difference and the tempo still ends up too fast. There are all kinds of things that can affect our internal judgment of tempo. This is the reason, for example, that we often begin to walk out of our natural stride in time with the music when listening to music with a strong and persuasive beat. I have, at various times today depending on what I was doing and where I was, timed myself saying "elephant" mentally twenty times in a row. My longest count took 50% longer than my shortest one. Tempo, meanwhile, is only one of many judgments that can be hugely affected by external conditions. And this is the rub: When we practice and refine judgement skills, these skills tend to be at their sharpest when the performance environment is similar to the practice environment. Another interesting example may be found among skilled amateur darts players. It's no secret that most darts playing on this level is conducted at the neighborhood pub and fueled with a pint or three. What's interesting is that the performance of these darts players actually goes down when they play cold sober. Why? Because they developed and practiced the judgement and skills under the influence of a pint or three, and when the blood alcohol wasn't there the external environment changed and threw off their judgement. This is the reason I suggested that a test of freepouring accuracy be conducted in an environment that, to the greatest extent possible, reproduced the environment and conditions of a busy bar during the rush. There really isn't much reason to care if someone can freepour down to a milliliter in the privacy of his own kitchen if he can't do it when they're three deep on Friday night. It's also the reason I suggested that bartenders working in quiet bars with a relaxed pace and lots of time to devote to each customer should be able to freepour quite accurately: because the external conditions are condusive to reproducibly accurate judgements. There is, however, a meaningful question as to what advantages, if any, freepouring offers in such an environment (I'll adress that infra). Meanwhile, in addition to the influence of the external environment upon the subjective standard of measurement, there are other possible sources of error to consider. The brand of pourspout will make a difference, as will whether they are all the same brand in the bar (not to mention that seldom-used and especially expensive spirits are unlikely to have a pourspout at all). The technique as to when the bartender starts counting and when he stops the flow of liquid versus his internal system of measurement. The temperature and viscosity of the liquids. The fullness of the various bottles. The shape of the various bottles. The angle at which the bottles are held. These things, and more, are all likely to have an affect on how much liquid ends up in the mixing glass following a certain "count." Now, of course it is possible for a conscientious bar to control for these variables as much as possible, investing serious managerial oversight and training resources devoted exclusively to freepouring accuracy. These are presumably the "top quality freepouring bars" to which you refer. And it is possible for conscientious and dedicated bartenders to train to account for all these variables as much as possible. But it is equally true that the more opportunities there are for error, the more error there is likely to be. A jiggering bartender has around three main sources of potential error: (1) is he holding the jigger straight to the side of the mixing tin; (2) did he fill the jigger all the way to the top; and (3) did he dump out the entire jigger into the mixing tin. A freepouring bartender has many more sources of potential error. It is possible that some freepouring obsessive who trains intensively and constantly for a wide variety of condidions and with a wide variety of equipment, and who has a truly exceptional ability to standardize whatever "subjective standard" he uses to make his judgments in a wide variety of environments could be very accurate. I have my doubts as to just how many such bartenders exist (I find that even the proudest freepouring bartenders frequently are also those who believe fervently in tasting and "adjusting" ever cocktail they make). But, more to the point, these feepouring OCD savants are doing all these things in order to approach a basic level of accuracy that is taken for granted by even a beginning jiggering bartender. But I think it's reasonable to ask why it's worth going to all that trouble. Just what are the advantages of freepouring anyway? Style? Maybe, I guess. Speed is the usual reason given. The problem is that, for all the reasons outlined above and more, freepouring accuracy is likely to be at its very worst during the times when speed is needed the most. And, on top of that, we have the evidence of jiggering bartenders such as Phil Ward who are as fast as any freepouring bartender in the business. Meanwhile, at small quiet bars where the likes of Uyeda, et al. ply their trade (mostly making drinks that are quite tolerant of a certain amount of pouring error, I should hasten to add) it's unclear what advantage there is to freepouring. It certainly wouldn't take them any longer to make the cocktail if they used jiggers.

Just to show how the old is new again, Audrey Saunders has a drink I love called "Goodnight Irene" dating from some years ago. It's 2 parts bourbon and 1 part Branca Menta on crushed ice. Definitely related to the Stinger -- but way, way better.

To be clear (at least on my own behalf), I don't think anyone is suggesting that Japanese bartending isn't really cool. I think it's amazing. I simply question some of the factual claims that are made on its behalf. Something discussion in a different thread has some relevancy to the point I am making here: I agree with Sam, mostly. I think that a drink that is stirred with attention to detail will be better than a cocktail stirred with no attention to detail. A good amount of the difference is that someone who is concentrating on stirring probably took pains with the construction of said cocktail. . . . I do believe that artisans or artisan traditions who spend a lot of time coming up with or executing pseudomystical mumbojumbo around what it is that they're doing, as a general rule of thumb, tend to pay very close attention to the work they're doing and may add extra steps that serve to enhance quality (both usually as a result of jumping through whatever pseudomystical mumbojumbo hoops need to be jumped through). This quite often produces a superior result. The difficulty comes when the artisan or artisan tradition would like to attribute the superior result to the pseudomystical mumbojumbo rather than the extra attention and care, or some side-effect of the pseudomystical mumbojumbo. It is all the more difficult when the pseudomystical mumbojumbo may consist of 25 elements, but only 4 of those things are actually responsible for the increase in quality. And it is even more difficult when some of the things that contribute to higher quality are actually a side-effect of the pseudomystical mumbojumbo rather than part of the pseudomystical mumbojumbo dogma (e.g., holding the spoon at a certain angle and focusing ki on the bowl of the spoon might be the pseudomystical mumbojumbo dogma, but "unintentional side-effects" of this extra care such as a slower stirring speed or a precisely focused attention to dilution might be what really makes the drink better when the pseudomystical mumbojumbo technique is mastered). An unfortunate element of this discussion is the fact that what I refer to as "pseudomystical mumbojumbo" seems to be a major historical feature of Japanese artisan traditions (I should point out that my own field as a classical musician and opera singer is full of pseudomystical mumbojumbo that I follow as much as anyone, so the term is not meant as disrespectful). This is whence come ideas such as "stirring techniques are crucial to binding flavors together," which would have us believe that the two techniques I jokingly describe above would produce markedly different "bindings of flavor" and therefore markedly different end results. It seems better to me to say simply that these elements are all part of the theater and tradition that has evolved into a certain kind of Japanese bartending and bartending philosophy, that cool stirring techniques are cool, that paying a lot of attention to your stirring technique can have a beneficial effect, that being in the presence of this style of bartending (or other styles) can enhance the enjoyment and perceived quality of the cocktails so produced, and that it doesn't have to be true that "stirring techniques are crucial to binding flavors together" or that the hard shake has an exceptional ability to create bubbles that have a unique ability to "act as a cushion preventing one's tongue from direct contact with the harshness of the ingredients and liquor, leading to a smoother taste" and an exponentially better cocktail.