You like whiskey-based cocktails, right? Sometimes? OK. I get that.
Ever had a Boulevardier? No? You really should do something about that, like, now.
The Boulevardier is one of my favorite cocktails – typically one and half or two parts bourbon, one part sweet vermouth, one part Campari. Sound familiar? It’s a bit like a Negroni – another great cocktail – one part gin, one part sweet vermouth, one part Campari. I say “a bit,” because even though the recipes share the vermouth and Campari, the way in which gin and bourbon play with those two other ingredients is kinda like the difference between a bright spring day, full of awakening, and an autumnal afternoon, leaves falling, the cold of winter around the corner.
Too abstract? Think sharp and vibrant (the Negroni) vs. rich and rounded (the Boulevardier). In any case, they’re both great drinks, albeit for different moods. And they’re both easy drinks to make if you’ve got those basics in your home bar. Combine, stir over ice, strain. Kaboom.
Want even easier? With an added layer of intrigue? High West has just come out with a bottled, barrel-aged Boulevardier (they introduced their first bottled, barrel-aged cocktail – a Manhattan – two years ago). For this one, High West does depart a bit on the recipe – going two parts bourbon (a six year old sourced bourbon), one part Vya sweet vermouth, one half part Gran Classico (a bitter and complex cousin of Campari that does indeed work well in Negronis or Boulevardiers). That all then sits in bourbon barrels for four to six months to age into a nice mellow drink.
High West was kind enough to send me small samples of both the aged and un-aged versions of their Boulevardier (only the aged version is for sale) – and the difference is rather remarkable. The time in the barrel results in a smoother, warmer, rounder, Boulevardier, very well integrated. And I must say, the ratios used seem just right, as the bitter components assert themselves without wrestling away the cocktail.
High West’s “The Barreled Boulevardier” started hitting shelves in the past few weeks. Give it a shot if you’re interested in barrel aged cocktails and lack… barrels.
High West “The Barreled Boulevardier”
72 proof
Approx. $50 Retail for a 750ml bottle
Tasting Dates: June 18-20, 2013
Thirsty South rating: Good Stuff – this is one barrel aged cocktail that really benefits nicely from the time in the barrel
Wow – among the very best: knock-your-socks-off, profound, complex liquid gold!
Excellent – exceptional in quality and character, worth seeking out, highly recommended
Good Stuff – solid expression of its type/varietal, enjoyable and recommended
Fair – fairly standard or exhibiting obvious though minor flaws
Avoid – move away folks, nothing to see here, a trainwreck
I don’t drink much tequila. It probably goes back to some bad experiences with the cheap stuff – the kind you drink when you’re on vacation in Mexico and maybe not yet 21 and being egged on by a crowd of fellow tequila-swilling-probably-not-yet-21-party-people until you drink an amount of said cheap tequila that is potentially lethal and definitively harmful until you wake up in a state of tequila-induced torture that only exists in certain touristed parts of Mexico near the beach but not close enough to the beach that the waves of ocean water are able to wash away the sins and stupidity of the prior evening. You know what I’m talking about, right?
Like I said, I don’t drink much tequila. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy tequila. I do. It’s hard to argue with the beauty of a well made margarita (no mixes, please, and nothing frozen but the ice in the shaker). And I’ve tasted some knockout sipping tequilas over the years, as well. But I’m no expert when it comes to tequila.
The good thing is, I have few preconceived notions of what good tequila should be. Which is maybe why I really like the new port cask finished tequila reposado from Herradura. The use of port barrels (or sherry, or Pedro Ximenez, etc.) for aging or finishing is not common in the tequila world. The very notion of it is probably heretical to many. But it’s a technique often found in the world of rum, and very often found in the world of Scotch. And this experiment in port finishing is the the first in what Herradura says will be a series of annual, small batch, experimental releases – dubbed the Coleccion de la Casa.
When I first heard about this, and saw that Casa Herradura (around since 1870) now falls under the Brown-Forman empire (since 2007), I immediately thought of fellow Brown-Forman brand, Woodford Reserve, which has a similar line of special releases (many of which play with different types of barrels for finishing) which they’ve labeled the Masters Collection. So it’s likely that there’s some sharing of techniques and ideas going on behind the scenes here (Masters Collection? Coleccion de la Casa? You don’t have to speak Spanish to see the thread). I can’t say that I’ve loved the Woodford Reserve special releases so far, but I don’t think that cask finishing is inherently a bad thing. So, the question is, what will it do for tequila?
Herradura starts all their tequila with blue agave. Once distilled, it goes into medium-char American oak casks for aging. For this special release, they left the tequila in oak for just under a year (thus reposado, which means it was aged between two months and a year), then transferred it to vintage port casks from Portugal for an additional two months of aging. The stuff is limited to a one time release of 2000 cases, and priced around $90 a bottle, but if you’re inclined to explore what port cask finishing can do for tequila, and not averse to dropping that kind of money, I think it’s worth a shot. Tasting notes follow, from a sample sent by Herradura. Simply put, it’s impressive what those two months in port casks can do.
Photo courtesy of Casa Herradura
Tequila Herradura, Coleccion de la Casa, Reserva 2012, Port Cask Finished Reposado
80 Proof
Approx. $90 Retail
Tasting Dates: June/July 2013
The cool thing about the nose here is that you clearly get both the tequila foundation and the impact of the port cask, with layers of banana, prunes, and nutmeg-ish baking spice piling on to a good bit of heat for 80 proof. There’s a green wood element to this as well, but nothing overbearing as far as the oak or port cask impact.
Sipping neat, room temperature, you first get a sandalwood kind of warmth, then cigar box, then a bit of that prune, with an agave baseline running throughout. Those baking spices show up again, now a bit sharper and almost peppery through the finish. The finish is long and warm, mellow and smoky. Very nice.
Thirsty South Rating: Excellent*. Is this for tequila purists? No, not really. But it’s clearly very good quality tequila with an unusual twist. And the port and tequila seem to enjoy each other’s company quite well. Which is more than I can say for my stomach and the cheap tequila of days past.
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* Thirsty South Rating Scale:
Wow – among the very best: knock-your-socks-off, profound, complex liquid gold!
Excellent – exceptional in quality and character, worth seeking out, highly recommended
Good Stuff – solid expression of its type/varietal, enjoyable and recommended
Fair – fairly standard or exhibiting obvious though minor flaws
Avoid – move away folks, nothing to see here, a trainwreck
When I first heard that Heaven Hill would be putting out a special small batch release of Elijah Craig 12 year old at barrel proof, I was excited. Why? Well, Elijah Craig 12 year old is a darn good whiskey, especially for the price. But I also had the privilege of tasting a barrel proof Elijah Craig 12 not too long ago, and my tasting notes wrapped with, “This is a prototypical/textbook great bourbon. Very impressed.” When I heard that the price for this new release would be around $40, I was even more eager to give it a shot.
The thing is, Heaven Hill did not bottle much of this stuff – at least for now. The stores I talked to that had actually managed to get ANY of it got only 3 bottles. Not 3 cases. 3 bottles. It was gone in the blink of an eye, and I missed it. (Rumor is that they will continue to make new batches of this off their 12 year old stock, making it an ongoing product rather than a “special release” per se. The first batch was apparently about 75 barrels – not much for a national release. But more will hopefully be on the way.) Now, I’m not one to relentlessly chase down hard to find bottles of whiskey, but I did make some phone calls, all to no avail. Oh well.
Six weeks or so later, imagine my surprise to walk into a liquor store attached to a Costco (but run independently) and find… one bottle of Elijah Craig barrel proof! They had gotten their 3 bottles that same day. Two of them were gone. One was left. It was mine. Well, almost.
The cashier and I started chatting about how hard to find this was, how lucky I was to walk in at this moment, how great the Elijah Craig special bottlings can be. He put my bottle in a bag, then grabbed a bottle of wine I was also purchasing. As he placed the bottle of wine into the bag, I heard a noise, then a slow, pained,”Oh no,” from the cashier. The deep aroma of bourbon filled the air. The dark stain of brown liquid spread on the paper bag. He had cracked my Elijah Craig.
The bottle and the break
Despite this horrible turn of events, my luck wasn’t totally lost. A large chunk of glass had come off the top shoulder of the bottle, leaving about 3/4 of the whiskey inside. That was MY whiskey, and I wasn’t about to let some broken glass get in the way of it coming home with me. We brainstormed a bit, the manager came over, then went to the back room to look for an empty bottle, something to pour the bourbon into. Eventually they found a bottle of Charter 101 that they dumped out and used for the remaining Elijah Craig. I still had to pay them for the Elijah Craig (the manager said something about liquor laws and that they couldn’t legally give it to me), but he gave me a reduced price and threw in a few samples of single barrel Evan Williams that the store was considering since he felt so bad. No matter, cheap plastic bottle and all, I was happy to have my Elijah Craig. When I got home, I gave it a quick run through a fine strainer to make sure no glass was left, and Elijah was good to go.
Tasting notes: Elijah Craig, Barrel Proof, 12 year old Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey
134.2 Proof
Approx. $40-$45 Retail (if you can find it)
Tasting Dates: May 23-26, 2013
What I first noticed there in the store, and when I got it home, was that this stuff is dark. Some of the darkest bourbon I’ve seen in a while, an impressive deep amber mahogany. Apparently Heaven Hill uses barrels from the uppermost reaches of their rickhouses for these special releases – meaning they’ve had more temperature variation, more interaction between the wood and the whiskey. Also, per Heaven Hill, this special batch was not chill filtered, which may not have deepened the color, but certainly impacted the flavor. Actually, the lack of chill filtering makes this cloud up considerably when poured over ice – turning from that clear mahogany to a cloudy apple cider hue.
At full strength, 134.2 proof, this stuff is understandably powerful. You get a strong blast of dark brown sugar, dark wood, and the kind of heat you can see rising off the desert in waves. You feel that heat on the tongue, too, in a very visceral way. Your mouth letting you know that this is probably not safe to drink in large volumes. That said, it does hold its heat well, with a pleasant dark caramel taste, a kind of mellow cinnamon, and a bit of dark chocolate-covered orange peel bitterness. Dang, that’s good stuff.
I like this Elijah Craig best with a few cubes of ice, letting the ice melt slowly into the whiskey over time. Even after a few minutes, the touch of the ice brings a much fuller mouthfeel, taking away the alcohol edge. The dark sugars round out into soft caramel. The orange notes come out more substantially. Almond notes emerge prominently – at first I was thinking of those dark cocoa powder-dusted almonds, but then realized it’s more like freshly baked almond cookies. It’s still full and deep, but not at all standoffish – balanced and embracing. You can play with adding water, but I found that a little bit goes a long way. Taking this down to something more like 90 proof by adding water does it a great disservice.
Thirsty South Rating: Excellent*
While this is not quite the WOW that I found in my other recent bottle of Elijah Craig barrel proof (single barrel, from their gift store in Kentucky, for $75), it’s still a great bourbon. And tremendous for the $40 retail price (I’ve heard of some price gouging out there, though.) With a cube or two of ice, you can linger over a small pour for a good hour, letting it evolve in the glass. If you get lucky like I did and stumble upon a bottle of this Elijah Craig barrel proof, snap it up. Just make sure the cashier handles it carefully.
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* Thirsty South Rating Scale:
Wow – among the very best: knock-your-socks-off, profound, complex liquid gold!
Excellent – exceptional in quality and character, worth seeking out, highly recommended
Good Stuff – solid expression of its type/varietal, enjoyable and recommended
Fair – fairly standard or exhibiting obvious though minor flaws
Avoid – move away folks, nothing to see here, a trainwreck
Ever on the hunt for interesting cocktails and the stories that go along with them, I recently picked up the book, To Have and Have Another: A Hemingway Cocktail Companion, by Philip Greene. It certainly helps to know some Hemingway if you want to get the most out of this cocktail book, but anyone with an interest in the drinking culture of the 1930’s-1950’s will find at least a few good stories and recipes as well.
The book is organized by drink – with a recipe for each, and how the drink fits into the Hemingway oeuvre (or his life beyond the pages of his books). There are entries for the Daiquiri (of course), the Cuba Libre, the Americano… but also more unusual drinks (at least to modern tipplers) like the Gambler’s Delight and the El Definitivo. And there are a number of super simple concoctions like gin and coconut water, or Scotch and lime juice, or Armagnac and soda. Which brings us to… the Cognac and Benedictine.
This drink is a 1 to 1 blend of Cognac and Benedectine, an herb and spice-laden liqueur from France that began production in the 1860’s but traces its roots back to the 1500’s. The story goes (and don’t ever fully believe any story about spirits like Benedictine) that this liqueur was originally imbibed by the monks of the Benedictine Abbey of Fécamp in Normandy in the early 1500’s. After the production ceased for a few hundred years, a fellow by the name of Alexandre Le Grand revived the recipe (or at least created the backstory).
By the 1930’s, one of the popular uses for Benedictine was in a Benedictine and brandy (B&B), and the company behind it came out with their own bottled version of B&B (you can still get that today, but buying the pure Benedictine is the way to go, so you can use it in cocktails like the Vieux Carre or the Singapore Sling). Now, Cognac is a specific type of brandy, so the Cognac and Benedictine is basically a (better) B&B. Made with a good Cognac, this is a lovely drink, a touch syrupy, but full of intrigue from the herbs and spices in the liqueur.
So what does this have to do with Hemingway? Turns out, young Ernest wrote a bunch of short stories upon his return home to the States after serving in the ambulance corps in Italy during World War I. One of these stories was set in a dive bar in Chicago, and prominently features the Cognac and Benedictine amidst tales of wartime in Sicily and the wishes of the Royal Republican Chilean Army. Intrigued? Try it yourself. Ernest would be happy to know it was because of him.
Recipe: Cognac & Benedictine
Mix equal parts Cognac and Benedictine in an Old Fashioned glass over ice, stir and garnish with a lemon peel. Enjoy.
You live in Atlanta? You like a Manhattan? Be sure to check out this roundup of Manhattan cocktails around town that I wrote for Creative Loafing:
The Manhattan in its most common form is one of the most straightforward classic cocktails — two parts whiskey, one part sweet vermouth, a dash or two of bitters. But that outward simplicity is deceiving. Will it be bourbon or rye, and which bourbon or rye? Then, which vermouth pairs most harmoniously with that whiskey? What will that magic ratio of whiskey to vermouth be? Which little bottle of bitters provides the appropriate accents? Will it all be vigorously shaken or patiently stirred? Garnished with a toxic red “maraschino” cherry (the horrors!) or something more artisanal in nature like the real deal from Italy’s Luxardo brand? The minute but meaningful variations are infinite.