Have you chased the white dog? Max Watman has, and he somehow manages to live to tell the tale(s). Hunting down hidden stills. Riding shotgun with a NASCAR legend whose success had a little something to do with his previous experience with moonshine. Building a patched-together home still that just might explode at any moment, in hopes that it might turn out a few drops of precious likker. Chasing the White Dog: An Amateur Outlaw’s Adventures in Moonshine lets you in on the chase, a chase that weaves from the shadows of the Smoky mountains to rural courtrooms to blighted urban landscapes, all touched by the white dog. It’s a mishmash of history lessons, hidden recipes, wild stories, and criminal whodunits that will leave you both fascinated by the possibility of the mythic moonshine and horrified by the reality of what it can leave in its wake. And it’s simply a great read for anyone who has ever had an itch to chase the white dog.
You can pick up the book for a steal over at Amazon, and the paperback is on its way to stores next week. In fact, thanks to the publisher, we have one brand-spankin-new paperback copy to give away to a lucky reader. Just leave a comment below with your favorite name for moonshine (AKA mountain dew, white lightnin, white dog, etc.) by February 16, 2011, and we’ll randomly choose a winner from all the entries. Let the chase begin…
UPDATE – 2/17/2011: We have a winner! “Speedmaster” will now be Chasing The White Dog
I’ve always been hesitant to use long aged (AKA $50+) whiskey in cocktails, thinking that a 6 year old rye or 10 year old bourbon offer a better balance of approachability and complexity from time in the barrel. A bottle such as Pappy Van Winkle 15 year old bourbon has always been reserved for neat drinking in my house, due to its amazing character and its cost, quite frankly, but also because it just seems a bit sacrilegious to mix anything beyond a few drops of good water into something so fine. Now, I’ve heard of Pappy cocktails being served at pairing dinners with Julian Van Winkle III himself at the table, but it wasn’t until I read John Kessler’s brief chat with Charleston chef Sean Brock that I had a strong desire to explore Pappy in a cocktail. Chef Brock shared an approach for making a Pappy Old Fashioned that Mr. Van Winkle himself had recently offered up – a slightly unorthodox approach that, I’m sure, plenty of thought and experimentation went into. So with the Van Winkle-endorsed recipe in hand, I joined a few Pappy-appreciating friends to tinker with the recipe and contrast it with the standalone bourbon. The fact that we were playing with the Old Fashioned eased my apprehensions as well, given that it’s one of the simplest of classic cocktails, one that focuses on the primary ingredient (here, bourbon), layered with the interplay of aromatic bitters and the sweetness of a bit of sugar.
The test was this: Glass A – Pappy 15 Glass B – a conservative take on the Pappy 15 Old Fashioned, adding a cube of brown sugar doused in Angostura and orange bitters Glass C – following Mr. Van Winkle’s lead, taking the above and adding a small wedge of orange to the mix Glass D – blending the Glass C approach with another common Old Fashioned technique, the addition of a touch of club soda
So, we started with the bourbon itself and progressed step by step to cocktails that layered on extra dimensions. The results were fascinating to say the least…
Glass A – Pappy 15 – a genuinely great bourbon worthy of slow contemplation on its own. The first thing that hits you is the depth of the nose that the time in the barrel has provided, caramel, leather, cedar, on and on. There is the evident heat, it is 107 proof, but it’s kept in check amidst the layers of spice and toasty caramel. Close to perfection in a bourbon. How can you mess with this?!
Glass B – Pappy 15 Old Fashioned, with brown sugar and bitters – wow, the nose now is completely changed, gone are the deep aged notes, in are the bright aromatics of the bitters, which really take over. Bitter orange peel, cloves, sharp floral whiffs. Where’s the Pappy? But then you take a sip, and the Pappy emerges, now a bit sweeter indeed, a bit more rounded, present but definitively altered – a cocktail rather than a bourbon in the glass. Is it better? No, not really. Is it good? Yes, definitely. And as the drink sits in the glass, the cube of ice melts a bit, the bitters take more of a back seat and integrate into the bourbon more effectively.
Glass C – Pappy 15 Old Fashioned, with a wedge of orange in the mix – OK, now this is interesting. The orange muddled into the bourbon increases the orange notes (duh) that hit your nose up front, but the sweet acidity of the orange also somehow manages to make the drink “fuller,” smoother, rounder. Dare I say more interesting? This is an excellent cocktail, no doubt, with a LOT going on between the citrus, the bitters, the bourbon itself. It respects the bourbon, but adds a playful element of surprise to the Pappy experience.
Glass D – Pappy 15 Old Fashioned, now with a touch of club soda – a little bit of water can go a long way. Here, alas, the way it’s going is a dead end, a distraction, a verge off into too sweet and too mellow that basically diminishes the glory of the main ingredient. Fail. Well, maybe not a FAIL, but does not compare well to the other versions tested.
Conclusion: Pappy 15 is a glorious thing on its own. It’s hard to justify making a cocktail out of it, BUT… if you are hankering for a cocktail that respects a fine bourbon, there is an Old Fashioned that works delightfully well, that is interesting and engaging, that is OK to put Pappy 15 in! Julian Van Winkle III clearly knows his stuff, and the combination of the brown sugar, bitters and orange is a fine partner for Pappy.
So, here it is, a slightly modified take on Van Winkle’s Pappy Old Fashioned:
Ingredients: 1.5 oz Pappy Van Winkle 15 year old Kentucky Straight Bourbon 1 brown sugar cube (roughly 1 tsp brown sugar pressed into a cube) Angostura Bitters Orange bitters Orange wedge, peeled, fruit only (Satsuma or similar is a good choice)
Preparation: Place sugar cube over a paper towel on top of an Old Fashioned (AKA rocks) glass. Add 6 drops of Angostura bitters and 6 drops of orange bitters to the sugar cube, then let it settle through the sugar – a good portion of the bitters will absorb into the paper towel. Drop the sugar cube into the glass, and add 1/4 oz Pappy and a small wedge of orange. Muddle well. Add one large ice cube and 1 oz Pappy, then stir well. Once stirred, add a final 1/4 oz Pappy. And enjoy!
Notes: Chef Brock uses a touch of sorghum over a regular white sugar cube instead of brown sugar. Mr. Van Winkle commented below to be sure to peel the orange and use the fruit only, so that the bitterness of the pith is taken out of play.
Do you drink like an old man? Well? Do you, punk? I guess it depends on the old man in question. For Robert Schnakenberg, who wrote Old Man Drinks: Recipes, Advice, and Barstool Wisdom, drinking like an old man means favoring classic cocktails – imagine Don Draper from Mad Men forty years older, aging poorly, hanging out at the smokey corner bar down the street, still drinking the same old Manhattans and Old-Fashioneds. It seems like there are several thousand cocktail books out there these days, but this one clearly has a unique point of view – that of the grumpy old man. Mixed in with the 70 or so cocktail recipes are photos of and quotes from the type of salty old guys who populate those smokey corner bars, complaining about the vodka and red bull and appletinis all around them. Dry Mahoney, Grumpy Old Man, Rusty Nail, Harvey Wallbanger, Salty Dog – the names could describe the cocktails or the old men themselves equally well.
A good friend of mine has tackled the book with gusto in recent weeks, well on his way to “Old Man-hood,” and has been taking photos of his cocktail exploits and sharing them on Twitter (a not so “old man” thing to do, admittedly). I can’t help but head over to my home bar each time I see one of these photos, so spellbinding in their directness and ability to capture the essence of drinking like an old man. I have to admit, I’m pretty darn close to drinking like an old man myself. Enjoy…
Photos courtesy of Rowdyfood. Full flickr photo set here. Thanks to Robert Schnakenberg for the inspiration!
See this book? The one with the multitude of darkly enticing bottles and casks on the cover? This is a dangerous book. A book that will cost you dearly. A book that will drive you to drink. A book that just may turn you off vodka forever (OK, that last part is not so dangerous).
Boozehound: On the Trail of the Rare, the Obscure, and the Overrated in Spirits by Jason Wilson is dangerous not because of its somewhat subversive stories of what constitutes a good drink, but rather because it will likely compel any fan of spirits and cocktails into the dangerous realm of obsession that the author clearly occupies. A world where chasing down rare brandies or long forgotten liqueurs is a path to wallet depleting joy and illumination.
Mr. Wilson finds a way of weaving tales that will leave you tipsy and laughing and thirsty for more. The book is literally a tour through some of the world’s great libations, their history, their path through glorious popularity or confounding decline. A jaunt into the agave fields of Mexico juts up against a tale of teenage tippling in suburban New Jersey. Secret formulas of herbs and uncommon ingredients are juxtaposed against the hyperbolic and highly suspect modern marketing “backstories” that seem to come with every new bottle on the liquor store shelf. Cocktail recipes appear at the end of each chapter to entice the mind, to further the already deeply felt urges that the stories implant – WHERE can I track down that rare Calvados, HOW can I live without that Creme de Violette, WHY is my collection of Italian Amari so minuscule???
Beware. Reading Boozehound is dangerous stuff. Now I better get over to the liquor store to pick up my bottles of Dubonnet, Benedictine, Amaro Montenegro, Creme Yvette, Luxardo Maraschino, rhum agricole…
Blackberry Farm sits amongst the bucolic hills of eastern Tennessee, a retreat for lovers of rustic elegance and the ideals of farm-to-table Southern goodness. Enough has been said elsewhere about the excellence of their hotel and restaurant – Blackberry Farm has been rated the #1 resort, small hotel or country inn in the U.S. many times over- so we’ll concentrate on their incredible bar program, and, more specifically, their bourbon collection. Now, we must preface this by saying that one must be a guest at the hotel to access the bar – this is no neighborhood hangout. And staying at the hotel requires a small fortune (or a large fortune, depending on your point of view). Nevertheless, once you’re settled in to the cozy confines of Blackberry Farm, especially on a cold winter day, the bourbon beckons.
While the wine list is one of the most ambitious in the Southeast, the whiskey selection is inherently closer to the ideals of this Southern farmstead. They say: “After all, we are surrounded by the core of American whiskey production. Of course our collection is comprised of both American and international whiskies. However, the one closest to our hearts are the ones produced closest to our homes. We like to believe that our region is at the forefront of the American whiskey revival, and the amber glow that emanates from within our bars clearly represents our passion for brown spirits. … our selection of artisan American whiskies demonstrates the skill, craftsmanship, and traditions of American Master Distillers.”
There are close to a hundred selections of American whiskey on the menu, ranging from a $5 pour of George Dickel #12 Tennessee Whiskey to a taste of rare experimental batches from Buffalo Trace (or equally rare A.H. Hirsch of W.L. Weller aged bourbons) that will set you back a very pretty penny. There are Pappy Van Winkle bottles hand selected for Blackberry Farm’s beverage manager and mixologist, Andrew Noye. There are multiple vintages of single barrel releases. It is a veritable bounty of bourbon.
On a recent cold and blustery December night, we were guided through the bourbon offerings by Jesse behind the bar, a knowledgable bourbon guide if there ever was one. He discussed Blackberry Farm’s intentions to be a bourbon nirvana, and they are certainly getting close. We opted to go for two bourbons we hadn’t tasted before – a Black Maple Hill 21 year old and an A.H. Hirsch 16 year old that was originally set in barrels back in 1974 by Michter’s Distillery in Pennsylvania – plus a good ole Elmer T. Lee single barrel. It was an interesting lineup – the Elmer T. Lee’s nose just about knocks you out with butter caramel popcorn, the A. H. Hirsch is laden with spice and vanilla, and the Black Maple Hill 21 presents a complex and deep puzzle of aged mysteries. Choosing a favorite among them was nigh impossible, as each one was completely unique and full of character.
Like that Black Maple Hill, Blackberry Farm’s bourbon library is full of mystery, with only a few lucky souls able to explore it in depth. It is a rare opportunity to venture back in time, to savor some American artistry in the shadows of the Great Smoky Mountains.
, drinking like an old man means favoring classic cocktails – imagine Don Draper from Mad Men forty years older, aging poorly, hanging out at the smokey corner bar down the street, still drinking the same old Manhattans and Old-Fashioneds. It seems like there are several thousand cocktail books out there these days, but this one clearly has a unique point of view – that of the grumpy old man. Mixed in with the 70 or so cocktail recipes are photos of and quotes from the type of salty old guys who populate those smokey corner bars, complaining about the vodka and red bull and appletinis all around them. Dry Mahoney, Grumpy Old Man, Rusty Nail, Harvey Wallbanger, Salty Dog – the names could describe the cocktails or the old men themselves equally well.
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