Likker – Page 14 – Thirsty South

May 5, 2012April 12, 2017

Cathead Honeysuckle Vodka: Tasting Notes

Cathead Vodka

Note: This was written in 2012. Cathead has improved their Honeysuckle Vodka since.

I dig Cathead Vodka. I like the outsider art craftiness of the somewhat menacing looking cat on the bottle. I like the little-bitty blue cat heads on the backside of the back label that are visible through the clear spirit. I like that they “support live music!”(who wouldn’t?). I like that they’re from Mississippi and are doing something good in that state that could use more good things (tamales are my favorite very good thing from Mississippi). And I also like that they are the first company to attempt a honeysuckle flavored vodka.

For sons and daughters of the South, there are few memories of youth as fine as that of discovering a good honeysuckle patch and having an older sibling or friend or parent show you the precious prize that rests within each little flower. You mean there’s more to that messy bush of tiny flowers than just an intoxicating aroma? Then you try one – plucking a honeysuckle flower off the vine, carefully clipping off the end and pulling the stamen on through the flower, hoping and praying that your bit of effort results in a big blob of honeysuckle nectar, then seeing that drop emerge on the end of the string and dipping it onto your tongue. Ahhh, a too tiny touch of heaven. You can see why I might be excited at the prospect of a good honeysuckle flavored spirit – the mystical honeysuckle is engrained in my memories.

And I had reason for hope, too, knowing that Cathead Vodka makes a good Southern product, having purchased a bottle of their regular vodka a few months ago at H&F Bottle Shop here in Atlanta. Well, the Cathead Honeysuckle is now hitting store shelves. The company was kind enough to share a bottle with me for tasting purposes.

The first thing I noticed was that the label sports a smaller cathead, now in gold, missing its eyes and nose and mouth. And I do miss those features, the angry air they lent its older brother cat. The Honeysuckle clocks in at 70 proof, a notch below the standard Cathead Vodka’s 80 proof, so you can say there’s more missing than just the eyes and nose and mouth. So how does it taste? Has Cathead been able to put the essence of springtime in the South into a bottle of vodka?

Let us see. On to the tasting notes:

Cathead Honeysuckle Flavored Vodka
70 Proof
Approx. $20 Retail

My hopes for magic in a bottle are dashed as soon as I sniff this. At 70 proof, the nose is amazingly like rubbing alcohol, cheap vodka, something you might have turned down back in college. Yes, there is some honeysuckle in there, but it’s buried so deep under fumes and a bandaid plasticity you don’t want to look for it. On the palate, layers of sharp burn and cloying sweetness duke it out, with none of the delicate beauty that honeysuckle should display. There’s also a literal lip-tingly burn to it.

The fact that Cathead’s regular vodka is so nice makes this all the more confounding. And the Honeysuckle is just 70 proof? Cathead was on to something when they lowered the alcohol in the Honeysuckle, but they didn’t go far enough if they want anyone to enjoy this out of the bottle. And maybe that’s the point – this cries out for mixing, but it didn’t have to be so.

Sure enough, when a good bit of water is added, the alcohol heat is washed away, kind of like the cool that comes after a storm. The delicate floral notes start to emerge more seamlessly. It even turns into a decent sipper, smooth and clean, with a small amount of sharp sweetness that isn’t quite in the league of honeysuckle, but pleasant nonetheless. There’s plenty of room to use this in cocktails, with pineapple juice sounds nice, or even some dry vermouth in larger than normal proportion to the vodka. But does it capture the pleasure of honeysuckle like sweet tea vodka does for sweet tea? Not even close.

I hate to put out a bad review. Especially on a brand I like. (Thankfully) I doubt they’ll lose any sales because of this, but Cathead Honeysuckle just doesn’t cut it. Hopefully they can improve upon the formula – I’m still eager for a spirit that does honeysuckle right. Verdict? Avoid. If you’re looking for something with a lovely floral profile not unlike honeysuckle that will work great in cocktails, check out St. Germain elderflower liqueur. Or, better yet, head down to your local honeysuckle bush and have at it!

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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

Full Disclosure: Bottle provided as tasting sample for this review.

April 27, 2012November 18, 2014

Two Takes on White Whiskey: Troy and Sons Moonshine, American Spirit

So-called “white whiskey” or “moonshine” brands seem to be breeding like bunnies these days. That makes sense, given the interest in the “forbidden” nature of moonshine and especially given the explosion in startup distilleries across the South and the United States more broadly. If you’re a startup, the last thing you want to do is make a product that you can’t sell for three or six or ten or (gasp) twenty years. White whiskey, of course, is “white” because it’s unaged.

Now, unaged does not mean “without character,” but the character of an unaged whiskey is inherently very different than one that’s been sitting in oak for years. The unaged whiskies I’ve tried have ranged from undrinkable to truly fantastic. At the truly fantastic end of the spectrum is the OMG Pure Rye from High West – delightfully yeasty and a real artisan product. At the undrinkable end of the spectrum are a few of the white whiskies put out by the larger producers who have simply bottled the stuff that goes into their barrels before it ever hits the barrel. At best, these are educational drinks and give insight into the wonderful magic that time in a barrel can make of a spirit that you’d rather spit out at first.

Two of the more interesting Southern white whiskies to arrive in the past year have very different ideas of what a white whiskey can (or should) be, and you get a sense of those ideas right on front of their (beautiful) bottles. The first bottle, Troy & Sons Distillers Small Batch Moonshine, calls out that that it is “handmade with Crooked Creek corn,” an heirloom variety found near their Asheville, North Carolina, home. This is clearly a story of small batch production and small batch ingredients. The second bottle, American Spirit Whiskey, calls out most prominently that it’s “ultra-filtered.” Their calling card is “versatility” and taking the bite out of typical unaged whiskey alternatives. Intrigued?

Both of these products clock in at 80 proof. Both are clear as glass. Both speak with a slow Southern drawl and have wonderful backstories worth checking out (go to their websites for that!). And both put a big emphasis on their ability to make great cocktails. But what about the distinctions?

Troy & Sons is trying to capture the taste of (really good) moonshine from the past, while American Spirit Whiskey is crafting a modern story that both embraces and eschews its whiskey roots at the same time. How’s that?

American Spirit Whiskey is different than any other whiskey I’ve tasted, especially in its composition. I encourage you to read their FAQs for the whole story, but the gist of it is that this is a blend of 5% “bourbon-quality white dog” and 95% grain neutral spirits (distilled from corn) that is then filtered through a unique process that does indeed produce a surprisingly smooth and flavorful result. This is akin to a gateway whiskey for vodka drinkers. And, in that respect, it works. Here in Atlanta, bartenders have embraced the stuff as it is highly adaptable to a range of cocktail recipes. Likewise, Troy & Sons has won raves for their Small Batch Moonshine. One taste lets you know that corn is the source.

So how do the two compare taste-wise? On to the tasting notes:

American Spirit Whiskey
80 Proof
Approx. $30 Retail

The nose is clean, but with a definite hint of grain or malt, a bit of grassy herbs, and just a touch of a purple grape-like fruitiness. Neat, there is a nice smooth body to it, again a clean-ness that drinks surprisingly well and goes down (a bit too) easy. It has a soft minerality to it, and, like the nose, a slight fruitiness. The finish stops short but then comes back with a bit of heat at the end. A cube of ice accentuates the crispness, and brings out a subtle caramel-honey towards the finish. Cocktails? Yes, use this in place of vodka in just about anything for a bit more intrigue. Vodka is actually a better frame of reference for this than “whiskey” per se.

Good Stuff – a unique and intriguing spirit, suitable for sipping or a wide range of cocktails. Calling it “the Most Versatile Whiskey in the World” may not be quite right, but it is versatile, indeed. Here are some good recipes to get you started.

Troy & Sons Distillers Small Batch Moonshine
80 Proof
Approx. $30 Retail

The nose on this nearly explodes with green corn or corn husk, especially after the subtle clarity of the American Spirit Whiskey. There’s a bit of a green menthol undertone on the nose as well that takes this away from a basic corn profile and into the territory of a good sake. The mouthfeel is lush and round, and the sweeter side of the corn starts to show, but again with an herbaceous quality that rounds out the sweet corn character. The finish is pleasantly long, with a lip smacking lingering layer of minty corn. Minty corn? It works. With a cube of ice, the body rounds out even more, the sweetness pops in the mid-palate, the finish smooths out as well. As for cocktails, Troy & Sons says to use their moonshine “in place of gin, vodka, tequila or rum.” That’s a big stretch if you ask me – this is corn whiskey, through and through, and very good corn whiskey at that. I’d say look for recipes that call for moonshine and this will beat out competitors, or for something adventurous, look for recipes that call for sake and see how this works.

Good Stuff – this may be the best commercial “moonshine” I’ve had, meaning it captures the character of what really good moonshine should be, with evident corn but enough complexity and smoothness to make things really interesting.

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* Thirsty South Rating Scale:

Full Disclosure: Products provided as tasting samples for this review.

April 10, 2012

Bartender’s Best Friend

With all the ~~awesome~~ new vodka flavors out there (CAKE! WHIPPED CREAM!!! CHOCOLAT RAZBERI!!!!! FLUFFED MARSHMALLOW!!!!!!!!), I’m amazed no one is talking about what surely must be the best friend to any aspiring bottle-juggling-mixologist-in-training. Bitters? No way. Too old school. I’m talking the ultimate flavor enhancer for your cocktail creations. Something that’s smooth and sweet and likely to cause women to swoon in anticipation. Ahh, yeah, break out the Coffee-Mate! What? You’ve never made a Coffee-Mate-ini? If not that, what about sneaking a little bit of vodka or whiskey into your morning Coffee-Mated coffee flavored beverage? No??? Who are you? C’mon, they’ve already got Amaretto and Irish Creme and Eggnog ready to go; you’re halfway there before you even start.

OK, I’ll be honest. I hate the stuff. You will never ever ever find a bottle of Coffee-Mate in my house. The ingredient list is enough to scare the bejeezus out of anyone opposed to consuming large quantities of chemically-modified foodstuffs (actual example: WATER, SUGAR, PARTIALLY HYDROGENATED SOYBEAN AND/OR COTTONSEED OIL, AND LESS THAN 2% OF NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, SODIUM CASEINATE (A MILK DERIVATIVE)**, MONO- AND DIGLYCERIDES, DIPOTASSIUM PHOSPHATE, CELLULOSE GEL, CELLULOSE GUM, CARAGEENAN, DEXTROSE). Delicious, right? The whole idea of flavoring your coffee with chemically-enhanced “creamer” is antithetical to the whole notion of enjoying COFFEE. Enough ranting, though, let’s get to the cocktails! (There is an actual cocktail at the end of this rant.)

Milk and cream are not entirely foreign to the cocktail bar. There’s the White Russian, of course, and the Irish Coffee. Those are both acceptable uses of dairy behind the bar, if you ask me, but the slope gets very slippery after that, once you head into the land of the Screaming Orgasm (the drink, that is). I did, however, discover another acceptable usage of dairy, particularly the Coffee-Mate “almost dairy” type: when your friends whip up a batch of espresso-bean-infused bourbon during a spring break-induced fit of ingeniuty and invite you to figure out what to do with it. Sure, you can go elegant and play around the robust coffee with aromatic bitters and nut-based liqueurs and even certain dark beers boiled down to a syrup. Or, you can go crass and commercial. Espresso-infused bourbon… meet Fat Free French Vanilla Naturally and Artificially Flavored Coffee Creamer and a few cubes of ice. Magic. You can thank me later. And don’t be surprised next time you show up at your favorite bar and there’s a big shelf full of Coffee-Mate beside the Italian Amaro and Carpano Antica and all that jazz. Just hope they don’t start juggling the bottles, that stuff makes a mess.

March 22, 2012May 10, 2012

Revisiting Jeremy Lin (the Cocktail)

Linsanity has plateaued somewhere far below its peak in New York City, but Jeremy Lin (the player) is still managing to play some excellent basketball. The news this morning captured the current state of the Knicks, “Fueled by a dose of Linsanity and a timely coaching change, the Knicks are making a furious charge toward a division title.” So, with Lin’s mini-resurgence, I decided to revisit the Jeremy Lin cocktail I created a month ago at the peak of Lin-diculousness. How Lin-diculous did things get? Well, the Thirsty South-devised cocktail made the Wall St. Journal. What!? (Scroll down in that link, apparently Rory McIlroy and Andrew Luck take precedent over a good cocktail!)

The day I created the cocktail, I didn’t even have the ingredients I wanted on hand. After all, not many folks have Kao Liang sitting around the house. It was a “theoretical cocktail” (and I am now pursuing my PhD in Cocktail Theory, it takes about a lifetime to complete). Now, though, with Kao Liang in hand, I can present a slightly modified version of the recipe. As intended, this drink is strong, with bite and a nice zing to it, and an undercurrent of earthy mellow sweetness pinning it down. The combination of ginger and rhubarb and the slightly funky brown sugar-y notes of (sorghum-based) Kao Liang really works nicely. I’ve axed The King’s Ginger Liqueur in favor of Domaine de Canton, partly due to the fact that I CAN’T GET THE KING’S GINGER in Georgia, and partly because the Domaine de Canton is a bit more subtle and I think it allows the unusual flavors of the Kao Liang to come through. With that… enjoy!

The Jeremy Lin

Ingredients

1.5 oz Kao Liang
0.75 oz Domaine de Canton Ginger Liqueur
0.25 oz fresh lemon juice
Dash Brooklyn Hemispherical Rhubarb Bitters

Shake ingredients over crushed ice like a madman. Strain into a chilled glass. Slam it home.

March 19, 2012April 18, 2016

Three Cherries – Maraschino, Michigan, and Moonshine

While many folks obsess over which rye whiskey and which sweet vermouth make the most magical Manhattan, not enough attention is paid to the lowly cocktail cherry. I say “lowly” because, unfortunately, what passes for a cocktail cherry in the vast majority of bars around America is a pale imitation of its ancestral archetype. The modern American cocktail cherry is akin to an evil incarnation of all that is wrong with today’s overprocessed food world. Of course, in a truly great cocktail bar, you hopefully won’t find that neon-red, waxed-up and shiny Corvette-paint-job of a cherry that might belong on an ice cream sundae or even in a Shirley Temple, but definitely not in a Manhattan. What you will likely find is either a housemade version or a jar of Luxardo Maraschino cherries. These Luxardo cherries are the real deal, from Italy, since 1821, made with real Marasca cherries, real Marasca cherry juice, real Maraschino liqueur. They are a deep black cherry red. They speak to reality rather than saccarine fantasy.

I love cherries. I really do. Especially the ones you can buy on the side of the road in the heat of summer, in places where they actually grow cherry trees. There’s nothing quite like the joy of spitting out cherry seeds at sixty miles an hour as you cruise down a country highway – except maybe the joy of reaching the end of a good Manhattan and finding a perfectly delicious Maraschino cherry waiting for you at the bottom of the glass. In the name of cocktail science, I undertook a taste test of three different cherries – the classic Luxardo Maraschino, an American take on this classic by H&F Bottle Shop in Atlanta (but using Balaton cherries from Michigan), and a Southern-fried “moonshine” version from Ole Smoky Distillery in Tennessee.

Let’s start with the original, Luxardo. The ingredient list surprises with a few more entries than one might expect – Marasca cherries, Marasca cherry juice, Luxardo Maraschino liqueur, sugar, but then also flavors, natural color, glucose, citric acid. Nothing wrong there, but interesting to see all that goes in to making the classic Maraschino cherry. In the jar, these cherries bear a dark black tint with just a hint of purplish red. The syrup is thick and, yes, syrupy, with an equally deep dark cherry red color to it. When you bite into one, a base sour note kicks in first, followed by a rich dark cherry flavor surrounded by subtle nutty and earthy notes. There’s a slightly petrified crispness to the texture of the cherries, maybe slightly more than I care for, that lets you know they’ve been hanging out in sugar and liqueur for a while. In a Manhattan, they deliver a satisfying range of bitter to sweet fruit that comes on strong at the end. There is a reason this is the standard bearer, as the bitter and sweet fruit accents a cocktail incredibly well. 12.7oz for $16 or so

On to a modern rendition, from H&F Bottle Shop. (If it seems I have a penchant for this particular purveyor, it’s true – after all, who else is in the South is selling housemade cocktail cherries and Bloody Mary mix alongside a killer wine and spirits selection?) So, first, there are the Balaton cherries, which are “harvested once a year” in Michigan and “may be the best sour cherries grown in the States” (according to none other than H&F Bottle Shop!). Then, H&F uses a combination of cranberry juice, sugar, and Maraschino liqueur to pack the cherries and create a nice light syrup. The color here verges to a purple Kalamata olive territory, decidedly lighter than the Luxardos but still dark on the way to black. The syrup is relatively thin and tart, thanks to that cranberry juice. The taste is a little sour, a little sweet, and very natural, much closer to what you expect from a fresh cherry than something out of a factory. In a Manhattan, these deliver a balanced flavor that is tremendously complementary to the rye and vermouth. And the texture is not too soft, not too crisp, really just right. Big props to H&F for finding a way to better Luxardo, at least in my book. Pricey? Yes. Worth it? I think so, at least for a special treat every once in a while. 5oz for $16.

As for Ole Smoky, you can see right away that this jar of cherries is closer to that jar of cherries that is found in too many bars around America – bright red like cherry flavored candy. Visually appealing? Absolutely, like candy to a baby. Tasty? We’ll see… These cherries don’t sit in syrup, but rather in 100 proof grain neutral spirits with flavor added – AKA “moonshine” (?). The taste? Well, my notes said, “ouch, horrible, high alcohol, not much fruit.” I should probably stop there. In a Manhattan, my note simply read, “egad.” I’ll definitely stop there. 750 ml for $24 or so

What have we learned here? Well, first off, ditch that whole notion of cocktail cherries being “cherry red” and opt for something closer to midnight black. Grab some Luxardo if you can find them, call up H&F Bottle Shop if you’re eager for a more artisanal approach, or wait until summer and make up a batch of your own from fresh cherries. That is, if you can stop yourself from eating them first.