Veuve Clicquot Rosé

"I'm not going to sleep with you," said Tiffany Case in a matter-of-fact voice, "so don't waste your money getting me tight. But I'll have another and probably another after that. I just don't want to drink your vodka Martinis under false pretenses."

Bond laughed. He gave the order and turned back to her. "We haven't ordered dinner yet, "He said. "I was going to suggest shellfish and hock. That might have changed your mind. The combination's supposed to have quite an effect."

"Listen Bond," Said Tiffany, "it'd take more than Crabmeat Ravigotte to get me into bed. In any case, since it's your check, I'm going to have caviar and what you English call cutlets and some pink champagne. I don't often date a good-looking Englishman, and the dinner's going to live up to the occasion."Suddenly she leaned forward towards him and reached out a hand and put it over his. "Sorry,"She said abruptly, "I didn't mean that about the check. The dinner's on me. But I did mean it about the occasion."  

So begins the chapter "Bitter Champagne" where Bond, under cover, reunites with Tiffany Case to celebrate their successful diamond smuggling job. Three Martinis and some surprisingly barbed banter later, Bond orders and tastes the champagne. He finds it ice cold and tasting faintly of strawberries.  In retrospect, I can't help but wonder if his impression of the champagne is a metaphor for Tiffany. 

From James Bond Omnibus 001

Tiffany Case is emotionally damaged and mercurial in a way no other character in the series is with the possible exception of Bond himself; seeming for all the world like someone desperate for escape from her life but unable to imagine anything more lasting than a fancy dinner and a few cocktails with a handsome Englishman she has no intention of taking to bed.  The entire chapter is devoted to their evening at Club 21 in New York as Bond tries, mostly without success, to charm information out of her about The Spangled Mob.  She is clearly unashamed, even proud, of her work but clearly hates it and herself for doing it all the same.  007 is out of his depth with Tiffany Case and the disconnect between their obvious attraction to one another and their own self loathing about their individual and conflicting jobs is what gives the novel its vaguely schizoid emotional center as well as propelling the needlessly complicated plot forward. 

In a sense, this feeling of unattainable or unrealized potential resonates with my own feelings about the champagne they drink with dinner; Veuve Clicquot Rosé .  On the whole, I found it pleasant but somehow inconsistent. What flavor notes were present were balanced in a way not unlike Bollinger N.V. (at nearly the same price point) but, unlike the Bollinger, the mouth feel seemed a bit rough with what one of my tasting companions described as "vivacious bubbles."  Where the flavors and texture of the Bollinger were in complete harmony, I felt the Vueve Cliquot Rosé was a study in minimalist melodies with arrhythmic structures.

I did not encounter notes of strawberries but those of cassis and green apples. I found this mildly surprising as cassis is not a flavor one associates with Reims where the Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin champagne house is located but with Dijon (some 200 miles south).  

Another of my companions enthusiastically remarked that the wine tasted "like An Affair to Remember", sophisticated, romantic and dry and, perhaps, this is where it comes to down to personal taste. Everything I might want from a Rosé Brut is here but I prefer bold, confident notes to delicate ones and while this was a very enjoyable champagne and one I would not hesitate to drink again (particularly with seafood), where I found myself wishing for a delicate texture, I found it rough and where I yearned for slightly stronger flavors, I found restraint.  

That said, this would be a delightful champagne to pair with crème de cassis for a Kir Royale, owing to the predominate (such as it is) cassis flavor.

Note: It is, perhaps, worth mentioning that in a party of four, mine was the minority opinion. My companions all found the Vueve Cliquot Rosé to be a more than satisfactory champagne. 

Raki and Ouzo

It is evening in the gypsy camp outside of Istanbul. It is an inopportune evening to arrive but because Kerim Bey is a friend of the family, he and his guest, James Bond will be allowed to stay. "Ah, raki!" He says with enthusiasm as he sits down to dinner, "filthy stuff!" Later, after the Bulgars attack the camp and Kerim Bay is shot due to his pistol jamming, Bond pours raki over his wound and says "Meanwhile, I'll take care of this 'filthy stuff'" as he starts to take a swig of the bottle. Powerful stuff, I think to myself, after all, Kerim Bey's bullet riddled arm heals in just a day or two. Magnificent! I must try some.


So it goes anyway in the film version of From Russia with Love. In the novel, things transpire slightly differently. First, his the way to Turkey, Bond endures a harrowing flight to Athens and then, once safely landed, walks straight to the transit lounge bar and orders an Ouzo, drinks it down and follows it with a mouthful of ice water. Fleming writes "There was a strong bite under the sickly taste of anise and Bond felt it light a quick, small fire down his throat and in his stomach. He put down his glass and ordered another." Thus, he is fortified for the next leg of his journey. Well, after "an excellent dinner, half a bottle of Calvet claret and two martinis", he is, at any rate!


Once in Turkey, Bond meets the Head of Station T, Kerim Bey. Unlike his celluloid counterpart, the novel's Kerim Bey is a big, powerfully built man but much as in the film, he has strong opinions and is intensely likeable and pragmatic. When Bond arrives, he opines that serious discussion can only transpire with Turkish coffee or raki and, as it is morning and too early for raki, he chooses coffee. Of course, their discussion continues well into lunch, and he introduces Bond to his first taste of raki. Bond's appraisal is that raki is identical to ouzo and he drinks it down without complaint. But, of course he does! He is Bond.



The next time Bond encounters Raki, it is served at the gypsy camp the way many people today serve table wine. There is an open bottle in front of them, served with water on the side and several other unopened bottles, planned for a long evening of dining and deliberation. It is clearly meant to accompany the hot, spicy goulash they are served and meant to eat with their fingers. After the attack, Kerim Bey is not injured as in the film, although his gun does indeed jam. Bond has some raki to calm down and hands some to Kerim and to Vavra, leader of the gypsies.


At no point in the novel is raki referred to as "filthy stuff" In fact, in my own research, I found many remarks about it's similarity to ouzo and even to absinthe but I found none that supported such a remark. Rather the opposite. Many claim that raki is the unofficial liquor of Turkey.


In part owing to the fact that From Russia with Love is one of my favorite 007 novels and certainly my favorite of the film series featuring Sean Connery, I was deeply intrigued and purchased a bottle each of raki and of ouzo so I could try them side by side and see for myself if Ian Fleming was correct about them being identical. I did not find either had a "sickly taste of anise" but then, that is a matter of taste. Understand that I only bought the best of the handful of brands available to me, this is by no means a definitive evaluation of the two classifications of spirits; merely this writer's impressions of two examples of this spirit.



Ouzo - Compared with raki, ouzo (in the form of Ouzo 12) is the lower proof of the two spirits (at 80 proof) and more straight forward in terms of nose and flavor profile. The nose is very anise forward with a hint of lemon and lime. The flavor is anise forward with a subtle note of wintergreen in the finish. The color, when mixed with an equal amount of water was cloudy but not opaque.


I found that it pared nicely with spicy food, cleansing the palette as needed. My companion and I found it very drinkable but a good deal less herbaceous and far sweeter than absinthe or Herbsaint but certainly drier and more nibble than Sambuca or, another anise-forward spirit. Paring with food did much to repair this potential inequity.



Raki - Indeed, as Mr. Fleming asserts, very similar to ouzo but not identical. While both spirits are made from fermented poultice of grapes and occasionally other fruits and both are distilled with anise and other herbs found in abundance around the Mediterranean and both are sweetened, the are not identical. Our example of raki possessed a deeper flavor with subtle savory notes and pronounced, but not unpleasant, bitter notes not present in the ouzo. Very much an "anise spirit" but with enough other herbal notes present that the anise seemed less "forward" while the alcohol burn was stronger; which is not surprising considering the spirit is sold at 90 proof. Oddly, the raki possessed in both the nose and the flavor, in addition to the expected anise presence, a kind of acrid quality that was hard to identify. My companion said it reminded her of cheap tequila "mixtos" from her youth while it reminded me of the scent of tires; certainly a "funk". This is not necessarily a negative. Many old spirits, Maraschino and Batavia Arrak in particular, possess a kind of funk that modern palettes find disturbing. I attribute this to what I imagine was a wider, more forgiving palette in generations past but if this quality is present in all or even most incarnations of raki, I can see why the 007 filmmakers chose to refer to raki as "filthy stuff". There is a kind of unrefined quality to it. Not at all unpleasant but a taste to be acquired. By the end of the tasting, I preferred the raki (although I learned that it is not to be mixed with other spirits- a tale I will hopefully never tell!) and she far preferred the ouzo.


Since both raki and ouzo are relatively affordable spirits, I would suggest that any Bond fan truly curious, try both. If you do not care for the flavor of anise, you are missing out on one of the oldest flavors in the history of mankind and you just may find that these spirits could change your mind.


Enjoy.

Gin and Tonic

In today's world, a cocktail is anything with ice and spirits in a glass. But, then, Tommy Bahama shirts are considered appropriate in a casino where, once, only black tie (a tuxedo) would have done.  So spins the world. In any case, the Gin and Tonic is only barely a cocktail by old time qualifications (spirits+sugar+bitters) in that modern tonic water uses quinine (which is traditional) and is sweetened (which is less so).

Oft referred to as a G&T within the British Isles, the Gin and Tonic is a highball, or tall cocktail. James Bond orders one in the novel Goldfinger where Auric Goldfinger quite improbably allows Bond unfettered access to his home in England while he steps out so that he can record by film whatever it is Bond is looking for.  Bond has, by this point in the novel, already interfered with Goldfinger's vacation-oriented hijinks in Miami and Goldfinger knows Bond is up to something; he is just not sure what. He invites Bond to dinner and makes up an excuse to leave for a short while, putting Bond in a position where he can search Goldfinger's estate.  Unbeknownst to 007, Goldfinger has rigged a movie camera to film Bond's every move from behind a two way mirror.  Before searching the house, Bond, quite reasonably, fixes himself a drink. He chooses a Gin and Tonic which, for a heavy drinker, is a logical choice, as it is a tall drink and takes one time to work through.  Bond drinks another (or three, if memory serves) in the novel Doctor No.

As the weather is warming a bit where I am at the moment, I thought the Gin and Tonic might be a worthy drink for this entry.  Ostensibly, just tonic water and gin, the G&T couldn't be an easier cocktail to prepare. It is also somewhat austere as most of Bond's preferred cocktail are.  Originally developed by the army of the British East India Company in India to encourage their staff to drink quinine which was used to prevent malaria. The gin apparently made it more palatable and, I would imagine, more compelling. 

The gin and tonic has many interpretation in terms of proportions but remains fairly simple in terms of ingredients.

In Doctor No, Bond orders a double Gin and Tonic and cuts the lime in two, squeezing the halves into the glass, dropping them in and topping it with ice and tonic. A single G&T is:


A highball (tall) glass filled with ice, pour and stir in:

• 3 measures of gin,
• Fill the glass with tonic water
• squeeze one lime, cut in half, into the glass and drop in as a garnish

 So far as I know, Bond never calls (specifies) the gin although we know from past entries that he very much enjoys whatever it was Gordon's was producing in the 1950s. He also never specifies the tonic, which is probably because most bars don't offer a choice.


That said, I prefer Q Tonic brand to the more common Schweppes brand as it's a much subtler flavor that does not feature high fructose corn syrup as the sweetener (I'm certain Bond's tonic water enjoyed good, old fashioned sugar as the sweetener).


The Legendre Thirst method:

While limes are common and, initially refreshing in the G&T, I prefer to leave them out as I feel they eventually seem to dominate the drink. Instead, I make what is known as a Pink G&T (pictured), omitting the lime, adding 5 or 6 enthusiastic dashes of Angostura aromatic bitters and building the following in an ice-filled highball glass: 

• 3 oz. gin

• Add 6 robust dashes of aromatic bitters 
• fill with Q-Tonic tonic water and stir

If I want a bit of lime in the bouquet (which contrasts the flavor of the bitters beautifully), I'll use a twist of the peel instead of the whole fruit.

I enjoy Old Raj gin in my G&T as it has a stronger herbal quality than most gins while still remaining somewhat citrus forward. The infusion of saffron lends it a certain savory quality in addition to the amber color. Old Raj is probably too high proof and, perhaps, too flavorful for the delicate balance that makes a Martini but it is perfect for a tall, somewhat more forgiving drink like a Gin and Tonic as it brings a surprisingly flavorful companion to the tonic, adding  a pleasant and subtly savory kind of interest..  Unlike in the Pink Gin cocktail, the bitters only play a supporting role in this drink.  The result is pleasantly effervescent with refreshing vegetal notes vaguely reminiscent of the strawberries and cucumbers one might find in a Pimm's Cup (albeit much more dry) with a slight creamy flavor while the mouth feel remains crisp. The citrus notes in the gin are sufficient to add a warm, celebratory note to the cocktail while the bitters bring out and occasionally offset the other herbal notes. (If you cannot find or afford Old Raj, Tanqueray Ten is an acceptable alternative. Somewhat less flavorful but arguably smoother.)

Try it both ways.  Imbibes most pleasingly in balmy weather.

In Doctor No, 007 enjoys 3 double G&Ts.  This amounts, to roughly, 18 measures of gin. As the average human liver can only process 1 ounce of alcohol per hour, this writer would like to recommend you start with singles first and work your way up.

Enjoy!

-L.T. 

The Negroni cocktail

If ever there was a post-prohibition cocktail that embodied the butch, steely eyed quality of the early cold-war era, it is the Negroni. According to lore, in Florence, around 1919, Count Camillo Negroni asked the barman at Caffe Giacosa to add some kick to his Americano with some gin. While gin is a brilliant mixer, I believe the Count could have done better but we'll get to that later.

 In the short story Risico (In the collection For Your Eyes Only), which was adapted in part and modified for the film For Your Eyes Only, 007 waits for Kristatos and enjoys a Negroni, specifying (his usual) Gordon's gin. The Negroni is commonly made with equal parts: sweet (aka Italian) vermouth, Campari and gin, usually served over ice, often with a splash of soda with a twist of orange peel. Occasionally an actual orang slice will be used but this is a forgivable offense in a Negroni.

This is all well and good but a few years ago a bartender on the left bank opined to me that, contrary to common belief and wisdom, the amounts of Campari and vermouth do better when they, put together, equal the amount of gin at which point it becomes: 2 parts gin to 1 part Campari and 1 part vermouth. This is an excellent idea and it, following my Parisian barman's advice, it is how I enjoy mine; served up (as shown,, although on the rocks is acceptable) with a twist of orange and partitioned thusly:

• 1.5 oz. gin 
• .75 oz. sweet vermouth (I like Dolin for balance) 
• .75 oz. Campari.Stir for at least 1 minute (dilution is not your enemy, it is, like fire, your powerful friend) 

Twist a strip of orange zest over the top of the drink so the oil covers the surface. Drop the peel in, sip and smile.

The Negroni is another varsity-level cocktail. James Bond was, if anything, a man's man and he proved it with his toughness as, in many ways, a drinker.  With the Negroni, I have had good, hard-drinking friends look at me as though I have served them turpentine when tasting it.  It is not a beginners cocktail. The proportions are irrelevant; Campari is an intense concoction, sweet, smoky, bitter and until you acquire a taste for it, anything made with it is... challenging. The Negroni is sweet upon introduction with the palette and then, quite suddenly, bitter and astringent. This is not exactly a negative critique. It's a fine, elegant cocktail, as is the Americano upon which it is, ostensibly, based. But it is, like any spy might be in or after the cold war, unfriendly to strangers. Courting it's favor is a worthwhile endeavor. It is refreshing, crisp and adds spice to life. 

And we could stop there.

But, that said, in the same way that the Martini and the Manhattan are related (initially only differing in proportions and choice of spirit), the Negroni also has a sibling and it surprises me, given James Bond's proclivity for bourbon (not to mention that of his creator Ian Fleming who, when instructed by his doctor to give up gin, simply took up bourbon instead), that he never once in the books or the films, enjoys a Boulevardier.

 The Boulevardier, was the signature drink of Erskine Gwynne (who, by all accounts, looked a bit like a cross between Roger Moore and Patrick MacGoohan, best known for playing John Drake and was turning down the role of James Bond prior to Sean Connery winning the part), expatriate writer, socialite and nephew of railroad tycoon Alfred Vanderbilt, who edited a magazine in Paris called The Boulevardier. It is, in almost every respect, a superior cocktail to the Negroni but it lacks its elite, macho bravado. Which is to say, it is so much more accessible than the Negroni that I suspect it, like the sweet Martini, is considered less-than by the monied and socially well-placed. After all, being in is only relevant as long as you keep someone out.

 But let's not let that silly consideration get in our way, shall we? By switching out the gin for bourbon, the Negroni becomes the Boulevardier which is a darker, sultry sibling of the Manhattan; where the vermouth and bourbon compliment the spice in each others flavor profiles, the addition of Campari is an inspiration in that it dampens the vermouth *and* the bourbon enough to bring out the crowd pleasing best in both spirits. Like most bourbon drinks, this is one that enhances and celebrates the flavor of the bourbon over the others but the result is still balanced and, in the opinion of this writer, more successful. The Campari brings out the vanilla notes in the bourbon and the vermouth enhances the spicier notes. If the Negroni is the light, refreshing sophistication of a cocktail party with the elite, the Boulevardier is the warm, sultry embrace of a new lover.  The Negroni might get you places but the Boulevardier will kiss you like a stranger.  The choice is yours. 

 I have to believe James Bond would have approved.

Officially, the Boulevardier is:

• 1.5 oz. bourbon 
• .75 oz. Campari 
• .75 oz. sweet vermouth 

...stirred long, garnished with a cherry and served up in a cocktail coupe.

My personal tweak is to add 2 goodly dashes of aromatic bitters, discard the cherry and employ an orange peel garnish, flaming it if I'm feeling particularly fabulous. (As long as you twist plenty of oil from the peel, the fire is not required.)

Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to make or order these two drinks and report back with your findings.

Good luck. And enjoy!

Pink Gin cocktail

There are a few cocktails that are designed for the drinker who, for one reason or another, doesn't care for gin.  These are meant, I imagine, as a kind of gentle gateway tipple to the dark world of gin drinking. The gin is almost always hidden away behind other ingredients so while the overall flavor profile leverages the botanical ingredients, the actual flavor of gin isn't really obvious. The uninitiated can claim bragging rights for having tried and enjoyed a gin-based cocktail without ever having tasted the stuff.  This is, I imagine, not unlike drenching broiled snails in enough garlic and butter that when you enjoy escargot, you are, in effect, not experiencing anything new or particularly dangerous.  If you want such a drink, there are many fine beverages to choose from.  I might recommend the Corpse Reviver #2 which serves as a precursor to the somewhat more pedestrian Lemon Drop. The Fog Cutter is another excellent choice.  With these examples of mixological excellence, you will be guaranteed a delight for your senses that will not, even for a moment, reveal the notorious flavor of gin to your palette. These drinks are, at least in that regard, safe.


The Pink Gin cocktail is not one of those drinks.


 Pink Gin is, in the opinion of this writer, a varsity level cocktail. At it's core, it's really just gin and bitters, served as close to ice cold as you can. It's herbaceous and intense with an aroma not entirely unlike a good Indian curry... little wonder when you consider that this drink was probably concocted by the British military as a way to get the troops to take their bitters promptly before and after consuming a vindaloo whilst occupying India.  It's actually a beautiful cocktail but the gin has nothing to hide behind which is fine, as long as you like gin. Ian Fleming liked gin.  So much of it, he was known to drink a full bottle of the stuff per day. And the Pink Gin cocktail, macho drink that it is, was his favorite.  Little wonder then, that he had 007 quaff one.  The only oddity is that he waited so long to have him order one up.  It isn't until Fleming's final (and never truly finished) novel The Man with the Golden Gun that Bond has one.  And it's a pity because as cocktails go, Pink Gin is far more sophisticated and deserving of world wide recognition than is the "vodka martini".

Something of a misnomer, Pink Gin is more of a muddy orange, owing to the color of the Angostura aromatic bitters in it.

When James Bond orders one as he waits for Francisco Scaramaga, the villain of the piece, he calls the gin, specifying Beefeater and asks for "plenty of bitters".  He's on to something with the bitters but I prefer either Plymouth or Broker's gin.  Not only is Plymouth the traditional choice but it's a slightly sweeter gin and melds better with the bitters.  It's also a better product, in my opinion than the Beefeater.  Broker's is a London Dry style but it's strong citrus notes make it an excellent choice for this drink.

Here's how I like mine:

• 3 oz. Plymouth or Broker's gin
• 6 goodly dashes of Angostura bitters (sometimes if I'm feeling frisky, I'll add a couple dashes of orange bitters)

Shaken and served up.

I know what you're thinking.   You're thinking the old boy has forgotten his own rule about stirring the clear drinks and shaking the opaque.  And you are certainly welcome to stir. However, I find that the oxygenation (aka "brusing") that takes place when you shake this cocktail actually mellows it out a little bit.  Usually I'd argue against doing away with any of the flavor but as I said before, this is an intense drink.  A little buffing off of the edges is a fine thing.

Some bartenders will garnish with a twist of lemon and while this makes for a somewhat gentler experience, I find the lemon interrupts the delicate interplay between the gin and the bitters. If you find you must have one for courage, then at least try your second round without.

Cheers!

Old Fashioned

  In the novel Live and Let Die, James Bond is with Solitaire on a cross country train from New York to Washington, when he orders from the Pullman two Old Fashioned Cocktails, specifying Old Grand-Dad bourbon, to go with their meal of chicken sandwiches and decaffeinated coffee (Sanka).   I won't begin to speak to that as a pairing because simply listing a recipe for the Old Fashioned is grounds for a fight; by which I mean that no one really agrees on how this cocktail should be prepared.  And people get very upset about it.

Lore has it that when folks started using new-fangled special ingredients like vermouth and curacao in their cocktails, more traditional folk would complain that cocktails were losing focus and their grace.  Cocktails, the way they made them in the old fashioned days, were after all, just spirits, bitters, sugar and (maybe) some ice. Simple, graceful and elegant.  And suddenly people were putting vermouth in them.  The nerve!  Okay, it seems silly now, but one look at the TGIFridays cocktail menu and you might feel the same way too (pay particular attention to their Cosmopolitan with cotton candy in it!).

But the Old Fashioned is an old drink and, as time goes by, things evolve to changing tastes and conditions or they disappear.  The Old Fashioned went from a simple drink, typically (but not always), made with rye or bourbon whiskey, that might have had a strip of lemon peel to something with muddled orange slices, maraschino cherries, wedges of pineapple and, not to be forgotten, soda water.  I'm sure there's some misguided bartender out there putting vermouth in it, not realizing she's making a Manhattan instead.  These creations are not terrible but they fly in the face of the very notion that likely gave rise to the Old Fashioned in the first place: a simple, old fashioned cocktail.

However, evolution should not be discounted. We adapt because we must.  The lemon peel, while certainly adequate, does not compliment the bourbon as well as, say, a bit of orange peel.  A cherry is a festive thing and, while probably not authentic, is, in today's world, customary for an Old Fashioned.  In other words, I believe in honoring the history but I'm not going to make a poor cocktail. (You see how it works?)

So, let's get to the bourbon.  According to David Wondrich, the great historian of all things mixological, Old Grand-Dad bourbon was considered high end back in the days before small batch and artisan distillers. Today, Bond might specify Basil Hayden, Pappy van Winkle or whatever large distributor could afford product placement in the films but in Ian Flemings' day, Old Grand-Dad was the stuff; or Ian Fleming thought it was, at any rate. Remember, Bond orders Sanka as his decaf coffee of choice, very likely because that was the only decaf coffee on the planet at that time.  In any case, it could be argued that bourbon, specifically Old Grand-Dad bourbon is what gets James Bond through Live and Let Die.  Well, bourbon and his own true grit.

Old Grand-Dad is produced at 3 different proofs:  86 proof, 100 proof bonded and 114 proof.  Because the bonded is likely to be a slightly better product, because we believe 007 with his hard drinking ways would have approved and because, it's Bond-ed (get it?), we chose Old Grand-Dad 100 proof bonded bourbon to work with.  Also, because Bond typically drinks no-nonsense drinks, I'll assume he probably wouldn't have missed the pineapple slice or soda water.

Build in a rocks glass or tumbler:

• 2 oz. Old Grand-Dad 100 proof bonded bourbon
• 1 dash Angostora aromatic bitters
• 1 tsp simple syrup (you can muddle a single sugar cube instead but syrup is  more even)
• 1 wide, thin slice of orange peel (try to get mostly zest, no pith or fruit), twist over the top and drop into the ice
• 1 cocktail cherry (optional)

Put bitters, syrup and half ice in glass, stir. Put in bourbon, continue stirring, add the rest of the ice.  Cut and twist orange peel over the top of the drink.  Put a cherry on top, if you must have one at all (Bada Bing cherries, despite the horrid name, are very good and, unlike most, free of chemicals. Luxardo Maraschino cherries are the real deal, however.)  If you are new to bourbon or bourbon cocktails, the Old Fashioned is a great place to start.  The relatively small number of elements means that the principle spirit is highlighted (instead of obscured) and the sugar and ice make for a nice, safe way to evaluate it.

The Old Grand-Dad certainly is a fine bourbon, bringing a generous balance of citrus, oak and spice to the palette.  Unlike many bourbons in the $10-$20 price range, it has no aftertaste or chemical qualities.  The finish is short and simple.  More complexity might be desirable but it's certainly not required.  Compared with other bourbons near this price point (both neat and in the cocktail), including Old Forester, Maker's Mark and Bulleit, I found Old Grand-Dad to be surprising; richer with strong citrus and light vanilla notes, a good bit stronger than Maker's Mark, less cluttered and cleaner than Old Forester and Jim Beam, it only fell short of Bulleit which seemed to be more flavorful with the same degree of balance with a somewhat longer and creamier finish.  If you prefer rye whiskeys to bourbons, this might be a good, inexpensive bourbon to try.  I would not hesitate to put Old Grand-Dad in a cocktail but I am not sure it would be on my list for a sipping whiskey.  For one thing, at 100 proof, the alcohol burn obscures the subtler flavors.  For another, while it's good and far better than many other bourbons one might find gracing one's cocktails, it isn't interesting.  I doubt it would ever be my first choice.  Unless, of course, I had just seduced the beautiful girlfriend of an international crime lord who had mangled my my arm, fed my best friend to the sharks and was trying to escape his voodoo death cartel by train.  Then I'd probably be happy with whatever came with the chicken sandwich.

Twitter

Happy New Year, my lovelies!

I have joined the 21st century at long last and created an account on the Twitter.

Why?

Because while I dearly love following in the dangerous, glamorous and quite probably deeply drunken footsteps of one Mr. James Bond, there is quite a bit more to do, say and enjoy in the world of fine drinking.

So, if you're interested in following my occasional, non-007 related exploits please follow me on Twitter: @LeThirst

I won't promise not to drunk tweet but I will promise not to steer you wrong or leave you drunk in a ditch.

Cheers, my dears!

-Ledge