North Shore’s Sirène Absinthe

The lovechild of Derek and Sonja Kassebaum, North Shore Distillery in Chicago, has plans to release its new absinthe Sirène next week for those of you who live in and around the Windy City. I used to be able to get my hands on North Shore products when living near Chicago about a year ago, but nowadays, I have to settle for my few remaining ounces of their Distiller’s Gin No. 6. I knew I was going to miss out on more North Shore products when I moved away, but their absinthe plans seems to have been classified until just recently. This absinthe will make North Shore the second domestic absinthe produced since shifts in absinthe regulations occurred. The first was St. George Spirits‘ Absinthe Verte, and two other American distilleries, House Spirits and Integrity Spirits, both from Oregon, plan to release an Absinthe later this year.

North Shore’s absinthe appears to have been developed in two styles, a verte and a blanche. Verte absinthes are the more traditional bolder, green absinthes, while blanches are usually white and lighter in flavor. Here’s what North Shore had to say about the upcoming release:

“We take a very traditional approach to creating Sirène. We use the traditional trinity of absinthe ingredients along with a proprietary blend of additional herbs and spices to create Sirène’s richness and complexity. The process requires a significant amount of time, preparation and botanicals, but the result is worth the effort.”

This sounds like there is some potential here. If you can’t get your hands on any North Shore products yourself, the very least you can do is check out Sonja’s blog, Thinking of Drinking. For more information on the green fairy, check Drink Dogma’s posts on absinthe or visit The Wormwood Society.

Real Ale Devil’s Backbone Trippel Finally at the Bar

Texas is a big place; we have shore lines, high plains, wide valleys and a beautiful hill country. In amongst the green trees and white rock outcroppings of Texas’ hill country lays the small town of Blanco, the home of Real Ale Brewing. Real Ale is one of Texas’s smaller breweries offering only 4 beers year-round in 12oz bottles and draft, but small size can be a useful trait if used correctly. Although I like all of Real Ale’s year-round beers, they put out some of the better seasonal beers in the state. One of the most appealing aspects of Real Ale’s brewing style is there mix of local Texas attitude and international flavors. Their most recent seasonal brew is a great example of this philosophy; The Real Ale Devil’s Backbone Belgian-Style Trippel. This beer takes its name for the narrow ridge line running from the brewery’s home town of Blanco to Wimberley officially known as RR 32.

This Belgian beer weighs in at an ABV of 8.1% and 36 IBU’s . The beer pours a hazy fall color with hints of yellow amber and orange. The white head is made up of small fizzy bubbles that give it a creamy texture. The head is lasts for a decent amount of time; it pours thick at first then settles down into a thin body that stays with the beer until you take the last sip. This beer has good lacing that follows the head to form about an inch further up the inside of the glass. The body of the beer is what you would expect from a good Belgium beer; hazy with a medium body and tiny particles. This beer had “pick me up and drink me” written all over it.

Upon diving in, the beer simply explodes with aroma; the olfactory experience is intense. The nose on this beer is firing on all cylinders, and I can pick up on malty, hoppy, yeasty and spice flavors. The brew has a moderate malty nose that hints of lightly baked bread and fresh grains. The Belgium yeast nose was very complex giving off the feeling that I was standing in old bakery with a rich clay wood fired oven and fresh dough being kneaded. While the hoppy component of the nose was not on the forefront, the Czech spaaz hops make their little green presence felt - a light hoppinness mixed with fresh citrus. The brew also had a very clear spice factor to it; the most prevalent smells being coriander, honey, and vanilla.

If the smell is the foreplay then the flavor was worth the buildup. At first taste, there is no denying that this is one complicated woman. As the, medium body of the brew hits the tongue the spice and malts are the first things you get. The carbonation pricks the tip of the tongue as the roasted coriander and malty graininess hit your taste buds backed up by a moderately sweet and lightly acidic secondary flavor. The watery mouth feel of the beer helps transition the flavors from the tip of the tongue to the back of the mouth. The finish is all about yeast; the earthy overtones play nicely with the freshly active yeast flavors. The finish flavor is short lived, but tastes of toasted malts and fresh yeast with a hint of indisputable coriander and honey.

Overall this is a very complete brew; the appearance and the nose make a promise that the flavor kept. While I am admittedly a big fan of the Real Ale line of beers, a line that consists of a great barley wine that will cellar very well, this might be my favorite beer by them to date. Beers like this one make it is easy to understand why sometimes we in the beer community can pass over lighter styles in favor of something big and Belgian.

There has been a lot of talk in the community about America’s lightning fast move to the front of the beer world in the last 10 years. It could be said that this move is thanks in part to the increased globe popularity of the “American Light Lager”. Other beer brewing regions have shifted their flavor profiles away from their regional specialties and more toward the flavor trend of lighter is better. The movement in the American micro world has been in the opposite, moving away from the American Light Lager towards deeper more full bodied styles. That’s not to say that there are not good Dobblebocks coming out of Germany or good Trappist coming from Belgium anymore, that would be ridiculous. But what is happening is that the old division in the American beer market between many imports and domestics has become imposable to make. Consequently, beer lovers everywhere have supported their local microbrews with greater vigor.

I am glad that we have both Real Ale and St. Arnold’s here in Texas, both creating what will certainly develop into nationally recognized beers. While I won’t be able to make it out to the Hill Country any time soon to take that great drive along Devil’s Backbone, the landmark’s namesake beer will more than make up for it in the time being. Real Ale only sent a few kegs of this great Belgium to the Houston market, and we are really fortunate to have gotten one. So if you’re in town, swing by the bar and let me or Robert pour you one on draft while our only keg lasts. It does make Texas seem just a little more beautiful.

St. Arnold’s Summer Pils

As the mesquite smoke floats off the coals, past the sizzling steaks, and into my eyes, I retreat into the garage and pop open the beer cooler. After a long day of grilling, I need something to hydrate me long enough to finish off the rib-eyes. My cooler homes a plurality of beer types from different regions; perhaps, I should have a big IPA, a nutty brown, a cellared barley wine, or a black lager? Oh I know, that bottle of Stone Smoked Porter a friend gave me would be perfect! Wait, no, If I drank that bomber without him Robert, he would kill me.

My sister walks in and asks, “Hey Kev, do you have a Bud Light?” I love my sister, but sometimes I just don’t know how we are related. Note: she drinks Malibu and Coke or Cherry Vodka Sours, so complex flavors are not of the utmost concern. “Of course I don’t have a Bud Light, but why don’t you pour yourself a glass of water and have the dog piss in it instead”, came my hot headed response. As she nonverbally expressed her displeasure, I reached for a beer she would enjoy I realized that I really wanted was something easy drinking as well. In reality, her choice of beer was much more fitting for the warm spring temperature and the smells of fresh cut grass mixed and the grill. Lucky, I always keep a six pack of the latest local Texas seasonal beers in the cooler, so it was a logical choice when I pulled out two bottles of Saint Arnold’s Summer PIls, the traditional summer offering from Texas’s oldest micro-brewery.

I will admit that as I was finishing the steaks, I drank the first few beers strait out of the bottle. But, after the dinner guest had left and the last of the dishes were done, I was able to sit down a truly analyze this light and tasty Texas summer brew. The beer pours a very clear light gold. The clarity of the beer is so perfect that I can hold the beer to the light and look up through the side of the glass and observe the fizzy white head dissipate from below. The head poured was a vigorous thick white but didn’t hang out for the party, as it disappeared very quickly.

The beer has a very light nose; in fact, it was so light that I got a nose full of brew as I leaned in for a better sniff. After cleaning my nose, I was able to pick up on a light malty aroma highlighted by sour citrus and sweet lemongrass notes.

Initially, the beer dances off the tip of the tongue and is defined by high carbonation with an underpinning of black pepper spiciness. Midway through the taste of the beer becomes so light that hardly any flavors stand out, but the end of the taste reveals the hops show and their floral little green heads. The finish ends with a light, but hop-flavored finish that s perfect for this otherwise simple beer.

Overall I found this beer to be quite drinkable and refreshing. While the beer could have a little more to offer between the hoppy finish and carbonated spiced initial taste, It is a shame that this beer only ranks in the 35 percentile on ratebeer.com and a B from beeradvocate.com. These low rankings likely come from the predisposition of beer nerds to dismiss lighter brews in favor of the big, the bold, and the dark, overlooking the light, refreshing, and drinkable artisanal brews. I will admit that we here at Drink Dogma have manifested the same beer snobbery, but with the changes of the seasons and the arrival of family cookouts, I suggest you take my sister’s lead and reach for something light and refreshing, the Saint Arnold’s Summer Pils would be a great place to start. If you want to try one on tap, swing by the bar and have us pour you one.

Carpano Punt E Mes

I consider one of my purposes in life to introduce Campari to as many people as possible. I just think you should try and make a difference in the world before you go. But, helping people to appreciate Campari is kind of like teaching a child to play catch. You know you’re going to hit them in the face, but this is something they need to learn so they can enjoy future experiences. Similarly, it can be difficult to lead someone down the pathway towards Campari as bitterness is often a powerful and distinct flavor. So, I start with a softer ball of bitterness, Punt E Mes.

Punt E Mes is a type of Italian vermouth that has a bitter component similar to Campari. Punt E Mes, which literally translates to “point and a half”, was named after a stock market jump which was commemorated through the Italian aperitif. The bitter qualities of this delicious libation basically add another dimension to a traditional, bold sweet vermouth. This can, when used correctly, form a more complex structure in cocktails as well.

If you like trying different types of vermouth instead of settling for everyday staples, I would strongly recommend picking up a bottle of Punt E Mes to play with in your favorite cocktails calling for sweet vermouth. This approach helps to demonstrate the unique qualities of Punt E Mes because there is an established standard for comparison between the newly created cocktail and the standard recipe. If you want to try a cocktail that calls for Punt E Mes; check this one out (from Sammy Ross of Milk and Honey I think):

Red Hook

2 oz Rye
1/2 Punt E Mes
1/2 Maraschino Liqueur (Luxardo)

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.

The Red Hook (not to be confused with a brewery that was once making good beers before being bought by the beer leviathan, A.B.) is one of those outstanding cocktails that carefully utilizes each ingredient in a manner that is extremely well-balanced, despite its varied spectrum of flavors. The bitterness in the Punt E Mes is held in check by the sweetness in the maraschino; essentially, you get an awesome cocktail similar to the Manhattan with a wider spectrum of flavors. I like to also add 2 dashes of Regan’s Orange Bitters and 1 dash of Angostura to my Red Hooks. I find that like Campari, small amounts of orange flavors compliment the bitterness in Punt E Mes extremely well.

Punt E Mes is one of those ingredients that is overlooked far too often by cocktail enthusiasts. It adds an entirely different dimension when used in cocktails, that otherwise would lack a bitter component. My ongoing efforts to share the beauty of Campari with the world may not appear to be the most noble of pursuits, but man, it is soooo good. You’ve just got to want to share it with people if you have a humanitarian bone in you.

Unfortunately, my approach of using Punt E Mes as a gateway aperitif is a bit unfair to the vermouth. Punt E Mes shouldn’t just be a Campari sidekick. Actually, they are very distinct, and, aside from their bitter elements, don’t really have all that much in common. Punt E Mes is independently a wonderful ingredient that needs to be used for its precise makeup. Perhaps, it is ignored because of people like me opting for Campari too often. This is a grave mistake that is destroying the possibility for countless great cocktails with less focus on bitterness. Ok, new mission, share the Punt E Mes with the world.

The Margarita Alternative: El Diablo Cocktail

The measure of a good bartender for the majority of eager patrons in Texas is the margarita. This standard is generally unfair as the criteria for the most classic of tequila cocktails is constantly under attack from inferior orange liqueurs like Patron Citronge, this month’s “best margarita mix”, and the notorious frozen varietal. With such a wide spectrum of margarita preferences, it is anyone’s guess what the guest staring at me from across the bar is requesting. I’m hoping that they are going to appreciate the bold, yet refreshing, balance of tequila, Cointreau, and fresh lime juice in a true margarita. But, this being Texas and all, home of the machined margarita, the future is very uncertain. So, I’ve started avoiding the margarita altogether; instead, I opt for another wonderful tequila cocktail with similar characteristics: El Diablo.

Spring’s grasp on Houston is in full affect at this point, so revisiting the lighter seasonal drinks of a year ago has become a priority. Fortunately, this week’s Mixology Monday topic of fruit liqueurs is a perfect opportunity. The Diablo is, to my knowledge, first documented in Trader Vic’s Book of Food and Drink (1946) as the Mexican El Diablo, and it uses crème de cassis brilliantly:

“Mexican El Diablo

1/2 lime
1 ounce tequila
1/2 crème de cassis
Ginger Ale

Squeeze lime juice into a 10-ounce glass; drop in spent shell. Add ice cubes, tequila, and crème de cassis. Fill glass with ginger ale.”

Some of my older books are at the bar right now, and I don’t have them in front of me. So if anyone has an earlier source, please let me know. I actually only have Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide, Revised (1947), but other sources say that Trader Vic first listed this recipe in the 1946 publication. Either way, the daunting name of El Diablo, which means “The Devil”, certainly doesn’t live up to its name. The crème de cassis and ginger beer make this tequila option extremely refreshing, certain to please any margarita lover. What I enjoy most about this cocktail is the diversity of flavors. The traditional characteristics of tequila work so well with the fruity currant element of the crème de cassis, the spiced dimensions of the ginger beer, and the acidic component provided by the lime.

To help this cocktail reach its full potential, however, the original recipe should be updated slightly. Instead of squeezing half a lime, use half an ounce. More tequila is always a plus; up the portion here to one and half ounces. Additionally, I don’t rely on filling the glass to determine how much ginger ale goes into the drink; measure the ginger ale and use one ounce only. Choosing tequila brands here is pretty basic, as a solid blanco tequila will do, but being picky with the crème de cassis is a wise choice here. There isn’t a better option than Marie Brizard Crème de Cassis Bourdeaux in my opinion. Finally, don’t use a generic ginger ale; make your own ginger beer or pick out a quality bottled brand. Now, that’s better; try this one out:

El Diablo

1 1/2 oz Tequila (Don Julio Blanco)
1/2 oz Crème de Cassis (Marie Brizard)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1 oz Ginger Beer

Shake the tequila, crème de cassis, and lime juice with ice and strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Top with the ginger beer and garnish with a lime. Consider this option whenever ordering a margarita in the future.

I am glad that this week’s Mixology Monday topic coincided with the oncoming spring season so well. This part of the year, more than any other, is such a creative time because of the availability of fresh, seasonal fruits and the persistent desire for refreshing cocktails. The Diablo is one of my favorite refreshing cocktails because it maintains a respectable level of complexity while offering an alternative to far too common drinks, like the margarita. If you’re searching for more drinks with fruit liqueurs, be sure to check out this week’s Mixology Monday host, Morsels and Musings for a list of everyone’s posts.

Unreasonable Expectations for Beer

Over the past several weeks, I noticed an ongoing trend in my beer selection. Instead of opting for the well-crafted, seven to eight dollar six-pack, I found myself seeking out the exotic, extreme bomber. For example, over the last week, I consumed Avery’s Maharaja Imperial IPA, the Malheur-12 Dark Ale, and the Dogfish 120 Minute IPA. Also, awaiting their doom in the fridge are Avery’s Collaboration Not Litigation Ale (Batch #2), Northcoast’s Le Merle Belgian Style Farmhouse Ale, and Unibroue’s 16 and 17 Belgian anniversary bombers. Man, what happened to the reliable, blue-collar lager that used to greet me as an after work treat?

All I know is that I wasn’t always this way. As a matter of fact, there was a time when drinking beer was really out of the question. Sure, the cold longneck is generally the introductory alcoholic libation for experimenting teens, but I opted for wine initially. Knowing people deeply involved in the industry from the time I turned 21 provided easy access a wide selection of great wines. I guess I just couldn’t convince myself to acquire a taste for beer when wine was so plentiful. However, when I began to regard bartending as a profession, I wanted to be sure to make accurate recommendations for my guests about wine, spirits, cocktails, and yes, even beer. Before I realized what was happening, beer was not only another obsession, but a reliable option that could be found in any bar.

Lately, however, I have been disappointed by several beers despite high recommendations by people that, in the past, have been reliable sources for finding a great brew. Take tonight’s beer, Avery’s Karma, a Belgian Gold Ale. I generally like Avery’s beers. They have created what are hands-down some of the most flavorful and creative beers to come out of the American micro-brew scene. The Karma, however, was really underwhelming. I expected a complex and flavorful American take on a traditional Belgian-style ale, but what I got was a lighter, subtle summery brew – not the beer I wanted. I said to Kevin, “Man this beer sucks; I usually really like Avery’s stuff.”

When I tried to expand on my criticism, I found myself unable to provide any specifics. Sure, the beer wasn’t the most flavorful I’ve experienced, but it was anything but bland, had a good mouth feel, and, overall, was very balanced. What more could you want in a beer? To be short, I wanted the characteristics of the Avery IPA I tried earlier this week, the Maharaja. That beer was awesome; it had some of the most intense hop flavor of any IPA I’ve experienced.

It occurred to me, however, that assuming that every one of Avery’s beers should live up to the reputations of the Maharaja, or heaven forbid, the Mephistopholes, is an unreasonable expectation. One of the most important lessons that I learned from my introduction to appreciating wine when I was younger was that every bottle of wine should be judged by its own merits. Judging a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc against an Australian Shiraz is a ridiculous way to formulate an opinion. Every bottle makes a promise; the only way to determine whether it is a good wine, spirit, or beer is to find out if it keeps it. The Karma never promised to provide what I’ve come to expect from Avery’s small production beers. It is supposed to be an easy to drink take on a Belgian ale, and that’s exactly what it is.

When analyzing their drink of choice, people frequently forget that not every bottle can be the best. If they where, the experiences and memories of those special gems that have become our favorites would not exist, as everything would be reduced to a standard average. While wine snobs have the reputation of being the most notorious critics of “inferior” bottles, beer elitists are threatening the throne of libation pretentiousness. One need only look at Beer Advocate’s List of the Top 100 Rated Beers to see this circumstance exemplified. Seriously, are we really supposed to conclude that, with a few exceptions, the best beers in the world are all imperial stouts, double IPA’s, and extreme Belgians? More importantly, would you want to drink more than one or two of these beers in an evening?

If the answer is no, I think we have to question the validity of ranking beers without, at least, some categorization. Instead, beers should be considered for what they are; a solid lager can still be a good beer. Now, I’m not saying that the types of beer in my fridge are going to change anytime soon. I enjoy drinking beers with intense flavors more than those that are more drinkable, but my preference does not mean that other beers lack quality and wouldn’t hit the spot at a ball game or after a real busy shift. This is the standard by which we will choose to recommend beers, wines, spirits, and cocktails on this site, and we feel is a better approach that anyone who thinks about their beverage should employ.

The State of Rum

The world of cocktails and spirits is caught in a persistent rotation of new hits. Actually, none of these spirits are “new”; instead, they are classic, but forgotten, spirits that have been resurrected for today’s renewed fascination with the antique cocktails. It started with the appearance of small-batch bourbons; then a few bottles of rye squeezed their way on to the shelves. The English no longer monopolize gin, and even absinthe has found its way to the party. These are exciting times for anybody who loves fine spirits. I am not sure what will be the next; all I know is the constant: rum.

Almost a year ago in an article littered with comments from rum aficionado Ed Hamilton, Time declared “rum is the new cognac.” While the article pointed out that sales of high-end rums have jumped dramatically, their use in cocktails seems to have not increased with the same tenacity that spirits such as rye have. Despite its crucial role as a classic spirits ingredient, social impressions of rum as a cocktail component still tend to be dominated predominantly by drinks like the Mojito. Sure, a correctly made Mojito is a fine thing indeed, but it is a poor representative for rum cocktails as a whole. One need only examine the Tiki era to find a slew of recipes that utilize far more complex rums in conjunction with various atypical juices, spices, bitters, and just about anything else that tastes right. Furthermore, many of these drinks utilize different types of rum to form complex, but balanced, combinations that blend everything from Gosling’s Black Seal to Flor de Cana Extra Dry. Where are the cocktails that blend different types of gin?

Not that blending gins together is a bad idea (sounds like an excuse for experimenting), but rum really is the spirit that has been used in cocktails more than any other. It was rum that first captured the hearts of the colonists. Following Prohibition, it was rum, not gin, not rye or bourbon, which renewed American interest in cocktails during the Tiki era. With such a diverse and extensive timeline of use, I would think that the most dedicated purists would give rum more attention. Unfortunately, I rarely see rum getting the respect it deserves on cocktail menus and store shelves. I am just as guilty as the next bartender, but the situation is somewhat baffling to me for a couple of reasons.

Initially, rum is cheap. In comparison to every other group of spirits, rum is definitely sitting under the blue light. In a market dominated by overpriced “ultra-premium” vodkas, it is clear that to some degree spirit consumers associate price levels with quality. Unfortunately, this mistake is far more likely to cause someone to miss out on a great brand than it is to help them find something they will enjoy. Many of these missed opportunities included great brands like Lemon Hart, Matusalem, and Lemon Hart, all of which provide spectacular bottles below the twenty dollar mark.

Classic and Tiki rum cocktails also generally require more effort and ingredients than other types of cocktails. Most bars like to keep produce inventory and cost down as much as possible and this means that often times, rum doesn’t make the cut. Sure, Tiki bars have been appearing throughout the country lately, but rarely do we see the bar that does both classics and Tiki drinks with equal advocacy. Sadly, many bars do stock significant rums selections, but they are under-utilized time and time again in preference for whiskey or gin.

Even if mixing up one of these drinks isn’t worth the time, in a cage match between the best rum you can get for fifty bucks and any other bottle in the world for the same price, rum is always going to win. I challenge you to find any bottle that gives you more bang for the buck than Ron Zacapa Centenario 23 year. I recently bought a bottle on sale for $36 – that’s like a $1.50 a year! That’s unheard of in any other spirits category. Not only that but, pricing aside, this rum can hold its own with any bottle, regardless of price. Hell, the rums little brother, the 15 year, can boast the same claim.

Above all, the rums that are available in today’s markets have been made by the same companies on the same islands or Latin American countries forever. Unlike the newer brands of classic spirits that have made by new micro-distilleries or worked into larger distilleries’ production lineups, most rums available today are produced with more experience than newer brands of other spirits.

That being said, some micro-distilled rums are beginning to appear on the market. In Texas alone, two rums have appeared over the last year, Treaty Oak and Railean. It will be interesting to see if these types of brands can find a place in a market where cheap, outstanding rums are already available and more widespread. Treaty Oak just hit Houston, and it has a lot to offer. Being one of the only micro-distilleries in the U.S. to actually start with the fermentation process, Treaty Oak truly is a small-batch local rum. I will be getting my hands on some very soon as well as meeting Treaty Oak’s owner, and I will be sure to report back.

A year ago, it seemed that rum might indeed have been the next new hit spirit, but looking back, the hype of countless new premium brands like Pyrat XO seems to have already fizzled somewhat. This development is unsettling because classic brands seemed to have never been given their due attention because of their lower prices and cocktails involving rum almost always went the light and fruity route. So do yourself a favor; mix with rum or buy the bottle of Lemon Hart with that unattractive label on it. If there is any time of the year for working with rum, this is it, but any season would be ideal for a good rum.