A Cocktail of Sorts: Sippin on Gin ‘n Jews

“Gin ‘n Jews.” This is a cocktail that is about as Southern as Santa Claus. It comes from a French Canadian cookbook from a couple guys in Montreal who have a thing for the food and wine of Burgundy… it’s a riff on the drink made popular by a prominent West Coast rapper… it features one ingredient closely linked to the Dutch and the British… and, most surprisingly, it features another ingredient known for its place on the table for the Jewish holiday of Passover. Whoever decided to bring Manischewitz into modern cocktail culture was either a genius, or a madman. Or maybe both. It deserves a place behind the bar at any fine cocktail establishment. (OK. I lie.)

Anyway, as you can see from the photo above, the recipe calls for gin, Manishewitz, lemon juice, and an egg white. Mix it up. Shake till frothy. Bang. Gin ‘n Jews.

I do admit to digging on some Manischewitz once a year or so, but even still, my expectations were not high. It’s a gimmick drink, for sure, but it turned out surprisingly well. The gin notes manage to bust through the juicy concord grape wine, and the freshly squeezed lemon juice brings a nice sharpness to it as well. Smooth, balanced, interesting. Even still, I felt it was missing something. I threw in a splash of Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur, which did the trick. Maraschino and Manischewitz? A match made in the holy land. Who knew?

For the recipe, buy the book! The Joe Beef “Cookbook of Sorts” is an awesome collection of stories, recipes, and guides to things like the top Canadian train itineraries. Seriously. And it also features the “Sausage Martini” with a Vienna sausage garnish, “The Raw Beef” cocktail which does indeed include raw beef, and a guide to making your own absinthe. We’re all in deep trouble if this gets into the wrong hands…

Giving Thanks

I am thankful for so many things, one of the smallest of which is the camaraderie, conversation and just plain fun that has come of sharing the Thirsty South. On our table there will be a very good bottle of the single barrel Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey that was picked out for my father-in-law’s 85th birthday on a recent trip to Tennessee whiskey country. And a turkey that is still sitting peacefully in a lemon/herb brine in the fridge. Wishing everyone a happy Thanksgiving. Cheers!

Collier and McKeel Tennessee Whiskey

It’s not easy going head to head with Jack Daniel’s and George Dickel. But that’s essentially what any product that calls itself Tennessee whiskey has to do, no matter how different the process, the batch size, the target audience, or the ratio of “done by hand” to “running on automatic.” The final stop on this year’s Thirsty South tour of the Tennessee whiskey trail was the newest distillery in the state (at least for the time being – there’s at least one more on the way next year), little Collier and McKeel. Collier and McKeel introduced their first products this year, and their flagship is a Tennessee whiskey. They also have a white dog, a cinnamon whiskey, and a vodka, but let’s focus on that Tennessee whiskey for now. Collier and McKeel is situated next to Corsair Artisan in Nashville’s Marathon Motor Works building, their startup home. They use a 570 gallon copper pot still made by Vendome, and just about everything (down to a thumbprint on each bottle) is done by hand. Given the small batch nature of their production, Collier and McKeel has been experimenting with the optimal barrel size and aging time to deliver the profile they’re looking for – a throwback to Tennessee whiskey of old. The barrels thus far have been tiny compared to what the big boys down in Lynchburg and Tullahoma are using, starting with 5 gallons and moving on up to 15 gallons. The smaller barrels provide a greater degree of interaction between the oak and the whiskey, given the greater ratio of barrel surface to whiskey volume. Now, as for being a “Tennessee whiskey,” Collier and McKeel does use sugar maple charcoal mellowing, just like the big boys. And they make their own charcoal, too. However, Collier and McKeel’s approach is a bit different, as they pump the new make whiskey up slowly through the charcoal, a few times, rather than using a gravity-driven drip process. The mash bill is a mix of corn, barley and rye, on the order of 70/15/15. And they use limestone filtered water, straight from the “family farm on Big Richland Creek,” making for a nice story of earth-to-bottle (not unlike the stories told by Jack Daniel’s and George Dickel, by the way). Collier and McKeel’s whiskey is available in Tennessee for now, but they hope to expand distribution in 2012, including Atlanta. If you happen upon a bottle, be sure to check it out and contrast it to the more commonly found Tennessee whiskeys. This little distillery certainly has the gumption to take on the establishment, and now it’s up to the whiskey to do the walking. Note: The Collier & McKeel distillery is not typically open for public tours, but send them a note to see if a private visit can be set up.

While you’re here, check out all the stops on our Tennessee whiskey tour.

Southern Comfort Pepper Tasting Notes: Maybe I’m Crazy

I’m a little bit ashamed to admit it, a little bit proud – I never had a SoCo phase in my youthful drinking days. This may seem remarkable for a boy who grew up in Memphis and now lives in Georgia, but I went from Bartles & Jaymes (did I just type that?) to Absolut to Jagermeister, then somehow, thankfully, latched onto good bourbon. So I tend to approach Southern Comfort with a blank slate (though a negative blank slate, as you’ll see a few paragraphs down). No seared-in-my-brain memories of frat parties gone bad. No happy memories of hanging out in the parking lot before a big game, though, either.

Now, Tabasco, that I am a fan of. They make a great product, or two. They sometimes make a good Super Bowl commercial. They have a wonderful history in Louisiana. But, while I’m known to douse quite a few things with Tabasco, whiskey is not one of them.

When I received a sample of Southern Comfort Fiery Pepper – I was extremely skeptical. Southern Comfort? I wouldn’t touch the stuff normally. Isn’t it basically whiskey flavored alcohol? Honestly, I’m still not sure exactly what Southern Comfort is. And Southern Comfort seems to like it that way. On the label they call this one “an original concoction” and that seems fitting. Actually, down further on the label, it reads, “liqueur and whiskey with natural flavors and caramel color.” Deliciously evasive. So, my best hope for this bottle was that it could be horrible in historic ways. Or the Tabasco could actually make the SoCo palatable. The truth is somewhere in the middle.

So, on to the tasting notes:

Southern Comfort Fiery Pepper
“An Original Concoction”
70 Proof
Approx. $15 Retail
Tasting Date: October 31, 2011

SoCo Pepper is a nice copper/amber in the glass. Swirl it around, then take a deep sniff. A heady dose of chili peppers hits your first, then a more vegetal green pepper note, then red hots, then … here’s where the “maybe I’m crazy” comes on strong… sweet grape soda. What!? It’s true. Try it. And once I smell that grape soda, that’s all I can get. Sugary grape soda, with some red hots sprinkled in. Not promising, is it?

When you take a sip, SoCo Pepper first hits as smooth and sweet, a bit of that sickly grape soda, then some Tabasco-ish heat comes on and carries through over layers of caramel popcorn and more grape soda into a long, mouth-tingling finish with flashes of cinnamon and more red hots. It’s remarkably smooth alcohol-wise. Well, maybe not so remarkably since it’s just 70 proof. The burn it does have comes across as more of a spice burn than a heat (alcohol) burn. And, you know what? I kinda like it. It’s weird as heck. It feels like I should be in the back parking lot of a pawn shop swigging it from a brown paper bag. But I kinda like it.

Fair, on the way to Good Stuff* (if you happen to be in the back parking lot of a pawn shop). This is crazy stuff, a ridiculous gimmick, a melding of Southern flavors high and low. And that’s why I like 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: this bottle was provided as a tasting sample

Maker’s 46 Tasting Notes: I Like ‘Em Fat

I like ’em fat, I like ’em proud.
Ya gotta have a mother for me,
Now move your big a$$ round this way
So I can work on that zipper, baby.

Prince (inspired by James Brown)

I don’t throw around raunchy Prince lyrics lightly, but Maker’s 46 was shoutin’ out for something loud. Before we get heavy though, some background is in order…

Maker’s 46 debuted a bit over a year ago, and highlights a trend towards untraditional forms of aging and impacting the flavor of bourbon (see Woodford Reserve’s Maple Wood Finish as another prominent example). These spirits are not for purists or traditionalists, they intentionally tweak the straight bourbon approach to deliver something new. Maker’s Mark former president Bill Samuels called Maker’s 46 “a breakthrough in the contemporary craft of bourbon” with “innovative techniques never before employed.” So, yeah, not for folks who dig on tradition. The innovation? Taking regular old Maker’s Mark and re-barrelling it with seared French oak staves inside the barrel for a few extra months, imparting some amped up flavor and playing Jedi mind tricks with the whiskey inside. I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of regular old Maker’s Mark, finding it a bit flat and without enough spice to balance out the sweet, but I do think the injection of extra oak into the process alters and generally improves it in a noticeable way.

So, on to the tasting notes and a little Prince:

Maker’s 46
“Bourbon Whisky Barrel-Finished with Oak Staves”
94 Proof
Approx. $35-$40 Retail
Tasting Date: October 25, 2011

Maker’s 46 pours a bright honey amber in the glass, possibly a touch darker than regular Maker’s Mark, but still not dark. The aroma is full of warm toasty oak, butterscotch and caramel, with a crusty, bread-like wheat undertone. Nothing crazy, it’s a bigger, stronger brother of regular Maker’s Mark. It’s on the tongue that 46 gets FAT and the nasty Prince groove comes into play. It’s luscious, round and chewy. Maybe Sir Mix-a-Lot would be more appropriate. Vanilla, caramel, and more slightly buttery toast coats the tongue. There’s a nice, welcome cinnamon spice that kicks in on the back that starts to balance things out, to give it some sass. The chewiness continues on through the finish, with an almost cabernet-like woody tannin pucker coming in at points and lingering on the tongue. So, while many may dig on this sexy MF, I must admit that it’s not quite up my alley. Too much chunky chew, not enough depth or elegance. I guess I don’t like ’em fat, after all.

(Not quite) Good Stuff* – better than it’s little brother, but far from a good value at $35 plus. If you like ’em fat, though, this may be for you.

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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: this bottle was provided as a tasting sample