An’ just like that it’s Lo-Fi Lush Hour No. 76: Calci di Rigore. Overtime is over, we’re all bent over panting, trembling hands on trembling knees an’ no breath to be caught, an’ now we’ve gotta kick th’ ball past th’ poor bloody goalie more times than th’ other guys. Sheesh.
Today’s Toast: Wine and Bitters, just like George Washington served Sir Guy Carleton back in 1783, when he was negotiating how to get the damn Brits outta NYC, what with them having lost the war the hard way. But first—you may recall the drill—wash your hands.
So. Wine and Bitters. Turns out to be a very stretchy sort of term. It can be wine—the General woulda prolly served Madeira, like these—and bitters; he woulda used Stoughton’s, like these that I had made up for an event way back in th’ Before Time.
If you ain’t got Madeira, sherry, like one of these, or a tawny port or even a good Marsala will do; if you ain’t got those Stoughton’s, which you ain’t, there’s these—or use any fairly gentle bitters you like.
But the “Wine” in “Wine and Bitters” didn’t hafta be wine at all. I mean, this was Amurica, goddammit. It could be *distilled* wine, like this lovely stuff. And once you switch that up, you’d best find the bitters that matches it best. These are good an’ spicy.
Prevent the wine of the cane? Of course you do. Here’s a lovely combo, but Tikiphiles will have no problem figgerin’ out their own.
You like gin, you say? Well, you could go English, with an Old Tom an’ bitters with th’ mug of an English geezer on ‘em (if you’re still holding).
...or you could go full New Amsterdam.
Whiskey ain’t too gentlemanly, not by 1783 standards, but it also ain’t bad. Angostura with rye, Peychaud’s with Scotch.
Anyway, yinz get th’ picture. Booze. Bitters.
Tools. Small glass—2-3 oz is ideal—an’ stemmed for elegance. Libby makes these 2-oz 18th-century style, and size, wine glasses and I love ‘em. Only tool you need for this.
Here’s how: pour a splash of bitters—5 or 6 good dashes— into the glass. I went with the old Stoughton’s.
Now roll it around to coat the glass.
You can pour out the extra if it looks like too much. To finish building the drink, add 2 ounces of wine or whatever yinz are callin’ wine. I went with th’ rainwater Madeira, ‘cause it wouldn’t fuss an’ fight with th’ bitters.
An’ there stands the glass. It’s my first one today, but I suspect it won’t be my last.
Huh. Well, we’re back—Lo-Fi Lush Hour No. 77: Calci di Rigore, Round 2. Like everyone, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but hey, if nerves are stripped and short-circuiting, could be worse, what what? So there’s that.
In keeping with this evening’s theme of traumatized optimism, Today’s Toast is a lovely, soft and pleasant one—a fuzzy kitten of a drink: Harry Johnson’s Blackthorn, from 1900 or a little before. But let’s see to those hands, though.
So. Irish whiskey. Powers’—even in it ugly-ass new bottle—is my go-to. If you ain’t got, any other Irish, or even a light blended Scotch or—what the hell—Crown Royal will work.
Lo-Fi Lush Hour no. 75 marks the end, alas, of the Lush Hour. When I started this, on March 14, we has 60 U.S. dead from Covid 19.
We washed our hands
We stayed inside;
Our president
Just lied and lied.
We mixed our drinks
And talked, and sighed;
A hundred thousand
People died.
Having worked our way through more drinks than any normal person needs to know, from the Tasmanian Blow My Skull to the kümmel-Vodka-and-Tabasco Epsom, let’s make Today’s Toast the elegant original version of the Negroni, as printed in 1947. Dunque, lavatevi i mani!
Yinz know what goes inta this one well as I do. It’s gin—I’ve always liked Tanqueray in mine, but you do you—an’...
Coming around to a starboard tack to run before the freshening gale with topsails reefed, hatches and gunports sealed and hammocks stowed it’s Lo-Fi Lush Hour no. 64, and ain’t she a sight to behold!
For Today’s Toast, I figured on freestyling a little aperitif in the key of rum, perhaps with a fortified wine supplying the harmony. Since that reads “sailors” to me, let’s christen ‘er the Brigantine, a sort of ship once crewed by men whose hands were a lot dirtier than yours.
Now, it seems to me there are two ways we can go: 50-50, with a strong, funky rum such as these (which range from 57 to 60% abv), or whatever else you’re hoarding that fits that description...
The days we pass with anxious twittering
While death and lies contest the agora
And what we had to make our sojourns sweet
Stands out of reach without a sure return.
Yet what remains is Lush Hour Sixty One.
Today’s Toast is a turn-of-the-last-century fave from the windward reaches of the British West Indies, the Green Swizzle. Whether the Ice House in Bridgetown or the Queen’s Park Hotel in Port of Spain made the better one was an open question. Hand sanitation, not so much.
You could make the Swizzle with white rum, of course. You can go strong or mellow or mix the two.
Well, it’s too late to get today right—let’s forget about today, ok? It never happened. I wasn’t there, didn’t do it, was off somewhere better doing that other thing that I should have been doing. But tonight still lies before us, and with Lo-Fi Lush Hour no. 59 to usher it in...
Today being World Cocktail Day, I should prolly inflict the original Cock-Tail on yinz. Two fingers of American genever, a lump of sugar, a big splash of water, a little one of Stoughton’s bitters, and—nah. What say we have a lil’ Weeski instead? Washercize them digits first, tho
This one’s something I came up with on Halloween 2003 when I didn’t have any rye left for Manhattans. I had Irish whiskey—John Power’s. The stuff on the right, not the nectar on the left.
Week 9, day 2: Lo-Fi Lush Hour no. 56. That’s the most days since I’ve seen the inside of a bar no shit since 10th grade. I assume yinz’r findin’ this as teejous as I am, which on the scale of teejous keeps knockin’ the right hand pin. But it’s still time an’ I’m still drinking.
Today’s Toast is from Jim Grey, Head bartender st NYC’s tony Fifth-Avenue Hotel from the 1880s until it closed in 1908. He called it an Old-Fashioned Whiskey Cocktail; others called it a Toddy. But he was the man, and they weren’t. It’s simple as breathing if your hands are clean
You need whiskey. Jim used “Fifth Avenue Special,” from the hotel’s richly-stocked cellars. Bourbon or rye, use something nice (that Cellar Blend is full of old whiskeys).