Saveur.com: Wine & Drink

Black and Stormy Cocktail

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 16:25:43 GMT

MAKES 1 COCKTAIL

Ingredients

1½ oz. rum aged in charred barrels, such as Mount Gay Black Barrel
1 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
1 oz. simple syrup
1 oz. fresh ginger juice (blend clean ginger root with the same amount of water, then strain through a cheese cloth)
Good-quality ginger beer

Instructions

Combine rum, lime juice, simple syrup and ginger juice in a mixing glass; set aside. Fill a highball glass with ice and add rum and syrup mixture. Top off with ginger beer and stir before serving.

Friday Cocktails: Black and Stormy

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Alexia Nader
I was invited to witness a regatta in Barbados a few weeks ago, closely trailing the racing yachts from a giant, bar-equipped catamaran that would sail the calm waters of the island's Caribbean coast. The morning dawned clear, but by the time I arrived at the Bridgetown port to board our boat, I looked up at the rolling clouds casting a gloomy shadow over the town's colonial buildings and, even though my sailing knowledge is limited, I had a feeling it would be an eventful race. Ten minutes out from the harbor, the sea started to swell. As our boat tipped over a giant wave, a flood of water splashed onto the helm; a school of flying fish hovering above the dark blue water appeared as a flash of silver. I looked out at the competitive vessels and saw the sailors rolling from one side of their boats to the other, tacking, trying to use the increasing wind to their advantage. It was time for a drink.

I fixed myself a simple sea tonic: rum for courage, ginger ale for the stomach. Replace the ginger ale with ginger beer and you get one of the most well known sailing drinks, the Dark and Stormy. One of the few cocktails whose name is trademarked by a liquor brand, a Dark and Stormy can only be made with two ingredients: Bahamian Gosling's rum and Barritt's ginger beer. But once on dry land, at Barbados' Cliff Restaurant, I had a surprising version of the cocktail with amplified spiciness and ginger flavors, prudently named the Black and Stormy. The bartender used Mount Gay Black Barrel rum: a caramel-scented blend of single and double-distilled rums that has strong peppery notes, developed by aging in deeply charred oak barrels. On top of it, he added the key ingredient, fresh ginger juice. Preparing fresh ginger juice requires extra work than just opening a bottle of soda-you blend ginger root with water and strain the mixture to remove the pulp-but the clean heat it affords makes the effort well worth it. Combined with a rinse of lime, it was exactly what this seafarer needed after a battle with the elements.

See the recipe for the Black and Stormy »

Friday Cocktails: The Black Derby

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Judy Haubert
A few summers ago, I was puttering around my apartment, semi-listening to an online interview with a band whose name I no longer remember. I hadn't been paying close attention, but my ears perked up when the show's host asked the group what their drink of choice was. One of the musicians answered that he was currently in love with a cocktail called the Black Derby, a variation of the classic Brown Derby-a concoction of bourbon, grapefruit juice, and honey created at Los Angeles restaurant Vendome back in the midcentury heyday of Hollywood cinema. In place of honey, the Black Derby swaps in molasses, giving the drink its namesake dark twist. With a leisurely evening stretching in front of me and the ingredients at hand, I whipped one up-and found I was in love with it, too.

See the recipe for the Black Derby »

Friday Cocktails: The Venetian Cup

Fri, 31 May 2013 07:00:00 GMT

by Laura Sant
On a recent sunny Monday I found myself sipping cocktails on a stranger's terrace. The owners of OAK at fourteenth in Boulder, Colorado, had traveled to New York for the Manhattan Cocktail Classic, and decided to extend their stay with a pop-up dinner to showcase their menu-not in a rented space or at a neighboring restaurant, but at a friend's apartment in Brooklyn.

There is something extra-wonderful about being on a rooftop in New York City, where it can sometimes feel like you're enclosed in a concrete box. And there is something extra-intimate about being invited into a stranger's home in a city where people go out more often than they entertain. As the ten of us (also all strangers) admired the view of Manhattan and chatted about the sudden good weather, beverage director and co-owner Bryan Dayton walked around cheerfully shaking hands and handing out tiny glass bottles filled with a lightly sweet, bubbly cocktail-a mix of Campari, Pimm's No. 1, and OAK's own ginger beer.

Whether they had predicted that the weather would bestow on us a perfect evening or whether they just got lucky, I don't know, but the cocktail was exactly what I was looking for as we enjoyed the last of the afternoon. Spicy, effervescent, a little bitter, and the color of a sunset, it was the perfect warm-weather apéritif-I can easily imagine enjoying one or five of these on rooftops all summer long (my own rooftop, sadly, having a somewhat less picturesque view of the construction site next door).

See the recipe for the Venetian Cup »

Pitcher Perfect: Summer Cocktails for a Crowd

Tue, 28 May 2013 15:10:32 GMT

by Kellie Evans

Nothing completes a cookout like an icy cold drink. But when you're grilling with friends, it's nearly impossible to find the time to mix individual cocktails, so we prefer to make large-batch tipples by the pitcherful. Packed with the season's flavors of fresh fruit and herbs, these libations are colorful, fun, and perfect foils to the heat and smoke of flame-kissed foods.

See our favorite summery pitcher cocktails in the gallery »

Friday Cocktails: The Rhubarb Fizz

Fri, 24 May 2013 08:30:19 GMT

by Stacey Harwood
Cambridge mainstay Fitzbillies has always been one of my favorite stops when I'm in England. I look forward to the reliable tea and Chelsea buns they're famous for, but on my most recent visit I noticed that the university town fixture has somehow changed-newer, fresher, bigger, brighter. I soon learned that Fitzbillies has, in fact, enjoyed a recent growth spurt, thanks to husband and wife team Tim Hayward and Alison Wright, who took over in 2011 and added an imaginative dinner menu with the help of London chef Rosie Sykes.

When I sat down to dinner, I was greeted with a basket of cheese straws and the new house cocktail, the rhubarb fizz, a compelling combination of rhubarb syrup and sparkling wine. Spicy and nuanced, I asked chef Sykes to confide the syrup's ingredients. "Cardamom and vanilla," she said. "I've been on a bit of a cardamom kick lately." She infuses additional flavor into the syrup by simmering the rhubarb in a spicy ginger beer.

Now that I'm back home, and with one of the first edible harbingers of warm weather finally showing up at my local farmer's market, I know what I'll be drinking for the next few weeks.

See the recipe for Rhubarb Fizz »

Papa's Favorite Poison

Thu, 23 May 2013 16:30:00 GMT

by Robert Simonson
Years ago, I had little use for the daiquiri. I regarded it as a fruity, frothy, adolescent concoction, made for injudicious college drinking and the "specialty cocktail" page at chain restaurants, all too often impregnated with artificial colors and flavors. Then something changed: Mixologists rediscovered the drink. Using careful techniques and artisan rums, they started pouring daiquiris of beauty and of balance. How could a cocktail I once dismissed as garish be able to clean up so nicely? It simply went back to its roots. As I found out when I looked into the matter, the daiquiri in its inaugural incarnation possessed a dignity and purity to match any libation.

Rum, lime juice, and sugar: Americans, British sailors, and Caribbean locals have been mixing these ingredients for nearly as long as sugarcane and citrus have been grown in the West Indies. Colonial America loved punch, a sweet, citrusy potion; rum, distilled from Caribbean cane or molasses, regularly found its way into the bowl. During the 1700s, British sailors spiked their daily ration of watered-down rum with lime and sugar. For this reason, the seamen became known as "limeys." In fact, there are endless variations on the island trio, including Brazil's caipirinha and Martinique's ti' punch. The daiquiri, Cuba's 19th-century gift to the world, is arguably the prime exemplar of this strong, tart, sweet balance of flavors.

The man who gets the lion's share of credit for bringing the drink's harmonious flavors together under the moniker "daiquiri" was not a bartender but a mining engineer. Jennings Cox was a rotund, bow-tie-sporting American who worked at a Cuban iron mine around the time of the Spanish-American War. A jolly entertainer, he'd serve large batches of his own liquid invention, a just-so blend of light-bodied white rum (probably Cuba's own Bacardi brand), lime, and sugar. Stories vary, but at one point or another, one guest came up with the bright idea of naming it after the town where Cox mined: Daiquirè.

Thinking he was onto something, Cox took his daiquiri to a couple of upscale bars he hung out at in nearby Santiago de Cuba, the Hotel Venus bar and the private San Carlos Club. According to Jeff "Beachbum" Berry, author of the forthcoming Potions of the Caribbean: 500 Years of Tropical Drinks and the People Behind Them (Mud Puddle Inc., 2013), a bartender Cox introduced the drink to began mixing it in single servings that he poured over shaved ice in a cocktail glass. From Santiago the recipe traveled to Havana, where the added steps of shaking and straining the mixture turned it into a straight-up cocktail.

Credit: Courtesy John F. Kennedy Presidential Library

Within the next couple of decades, a perfect storm of circumstances conspired to make the daiquiri a border-crossing hit. In 1909, an American naval officer named Lucius Johnson went to a shindig at Cox's place, pocketed the recipe, and took it back to Washington, D.C., where it became the signature at the Army and Navy Club. Eleven years later, Prohibition was passed, instilling in thirsty Americans an interest in travel to Cuba, where liquor still flowed freely. Anyone drinking in Havana was bound to encounter a daiquiri at some point. In the 1930s, the drink got an added boost by the one-man publicity machine known as Ernest Hemingway, who had decamped to Cuba seeking quiet to write. He ended up spending just as much time drinking at a Havana bar called El Floridita as he did composing terse sentences; "Papa" liked how the owner, Constantino Ribalaigua Vert, handled a daiquiri. Hemingway's fame rubbed off on the drink. On a wave of rum that flooded the States following Prohibition's repeal, the daiquiri swept the country.

For today's purists, it is tempting to believe that the daiquiri's virtue as a pared-down masterpiece-shaken, strained, and served straight up-remained unstained until the 1970s, when some bartenders threw the poor girl into a blender. But that's not exactly the case. The words frozen and daiquiri were never quite strangers. Those chilly potions Hemingway guzzled at El Floridita were served on piles of shaved ice. In the 1928 work When It's Cocktail Time in Cuba, Prohibition-era writer Basil Woon cautioned that the drink "must be drunk frozen or it is not good." He probably meant you should serve it very cold. But the notion is there.

When the Waring blender was introduced to America in 1937, encouraging people to make smoothies out of everything, the daiquiri was transformed, as Wayne Curtis puts it in And a Bottle of Rum (Crown, 2006), into "something to be eaten with a spoon." It stands to reason that postwar America's love of mechanical convenience and the need for speedy service in the discos and singles' bars of the 1970s sealed the drink's slushy fate. In 1971, Dallas resident Mariano Martinez paired up with inventor Frank Adams to make the first frozen drink machine, and the daiquiri, in a rainbow of fruity new flavors, returned to batch proportions. Today, manufacturers such as Louisiana's Frosty Factory of America, supplier to many of New Orleans' drive-thru daiquiri shops, boast contraptions that dispense 30 gallons of icy cocktail per hour. For bar owners, it's a heck of a lot less work than blending drinks one at a time.

But, as I've found out, the effort it takes to make a daiquiri by hand is well worth it. Of course, like many classics, it is easy to make and easy to get wrong. Because there are only three ingredients, a classic daiquiri can quickly be thrown out of whack. Too much sugar or lime (or too little), and you're sunk. As one barkeep told me of the cocktail, "There's nowhere to hide."

To make a proper daiquiri, the lime juice must be fresh squeezed. Simple syrup (basically sugar water) should be used to achieve a smooth consistency. And the rum must possess the right mix of lightness, body, and pungency; aged rum, so delicious on its own or in tiki drinks, makes for an inappropriately ponderous daiquiri.

Of course, like many classics, the daiquiri is easy to make and easy to get wrong

For me, 86 Co.'s Caña Brava, a Panamanian rum, has enough lightness, as well as an intriguingly gamey flavor, to make a balanced daiquiri. I'm also a fan of St. George's Spirits Agua Libre California Agricole Rum. Pressed from fresh sugarcane, it adds grassy, pungent depth to the drink. Once I have my mighty trio ready, I measure each into a cocktail shaker, give it a hearty rattle over plenty of ice, and strain it into a chilled coupe. It took practice, but I now make a pretty fine daiquiri: potent, piquant, and just this side of sweet.

And I have to agree with something that today's mixologists already know: The daiquiri is endlessly adaptable. Once I learned to master the original, it was a simple side step to the Hemingway Special. The version, which the legendary writer enjoyed at El Floridita, incorporates maraschino liqueur and grapefruit juice. When I'm in the mood for a sparkling drink, I try the Airmail daiquiri, which includes champagne. If I want to go stronger, I mix up a Kapu Kai, which calls for high-proof Lemon Hart 151 Demerara rum. I've even come to appreciate frozen inventions when they're crafted by a skilled bartender using fresh ingredients-blackberries, strawberries and bananas, cinnamon and pineapple-and that balanced undergirding of rum, sugar, and lime. With each new, delicious creation, I've found that the daiquiri hasn't deserted its island roots at all.

See a gallery of Daiquiri cocktails »

9 Variations of the Classic Daiquiri

Thu, 23 May 2013 06:30:00 GMT

Straight up, over ice, or frozen, daiquiris are just as good now as when Hemingway drank them. Try these 9 variations, from a classic version on ice to one puréed with fresh blackberries.

See our favorite daiquiri recipes in the gallery »

Mixstrology: Gemini

Tue, 21 May 2013 05:30:00 GMT

by Patricia Clark Hippolyte
Welcome to Mixstrology, SAVEUR's monthly series where astrologist/bartender Patricia Clark Hippolyte provides a cocktail prescription for each sign of the zodiac. This month: Gemini.

Gemini begins on May 21, and in keeping with the season, I propose you make your witty self a drink that is light, airy, childlike, and fueled by hints of spring. This cocktail should leave you wanting more, even after the two I'd recommend you drink straight down-one for each of your twin personalities.

Credit: Laura Sant

Enter La Puella y el Puer, a double-fisted drink (the name means "the girl and the boy") that also goes by a simpler name: The Tinkerbell and the Tinkerbell. The chosen vessel for this pair of drinks is the champagne coupe, that rounded cradle of a cocktail glass said to have been designed after Marie Antoinette's best assets, of which, like you, there were two. Though old-fashioned, the glass remains unserious, adding a bit of Gemini-like whimsy to the drink. As for the drink itself: vodka and gin are spirits as clear and light as your own; floral, springlike lavender is the herb of Gemini; a touch of club soda mirrors your bubbly personality; and a cloud of airy egg white elevates the drink to the fun-loving heights in which you live. It's all poured over crushed ice, just to keep your active mouths busy with something to crunch on. Is this a drink that has a lot going on? Maybe. But so do you.

See the recipe for La Puella y el Puer »

As for the rest of the zodiac, you can have a Tinkerbell of your very own, with these sign-appropriate variations:

Aries

You're lit up on sudden changes and restlessness. This drink may seem wimpy to you, but just think how much pleasure you'll get from throwing it across the room. Better yet, lose the juice, syrup, whites, and ice, and just drink the vodka. Straight from the bottle.

Taurus

You feel bold, assertive, and ready for action right now. You'll like this cocktail; you'd drink anything. For you, more is more, so have four, double the syrup.

Cancer

Cancer, oh Cancer, you're going through so much these days, and no one feels more than you do. I don't think curling up and crying in a dark corner is the right vibe for this cocktail. Maybe just stick to wine.

Leo

Things are slowing down a bit for you now, causing some frustrations, so get in touch with your brisk, sunny side: Add yuzu bitters to this drink, and swap out the regular citrus for Meyer lemon, a luxurious variety that becomes Your Highness.

Virgo

This month you may not be as tight-reigned as you usually are. Gain a fraction of a pound, spend a few nickels, and enjoy this clean, white drink, though I'm sure you'd prefer 1/100th of a teaspoon less lavender, a squeeze more lemon, a clean straw, and some hand sanitizer on the side.

Libra

Lovely Libra, you're drawn to pretty things, yet you find yourself surrounded by uncivilized aspects just now. Attractions will be out of the blue, irresistible, but not necessarily stable. I say have fun with it: I'm seeing this drink for you garnished with edible flowers and with a few dashes of girly Peychaud's bitters mixed in, to make it pink.

Scorpio

It's time for work, work, and more work. You may feel melancholy, putting in those long hours, but you are no stranger to solitude and you'll have the strength and stamina to rise to the occasion. A Tinkerbell cocktail may be a tad light for your intense nature, so muddle blackberries into it, and make it a double.

Sagittarius

For you, unrealistic expectations abound. What may look good from afar may not be so once you're up close. But until you get there, the sun is shining, it's a beautiful day, so seize it! Swap out the clear booze in this drink for a smoky reposado tequila and dance your pants off.

Capricorn

I know you really don't need me to tell you anything, but I'll accept that eye roll because, in spite of it, I like you. You've been in warrior training since the end of 2008, but if anyone can power through it, it's you. Make this drink with straight-laced rye whiskey, swap the lavender for stalwart elderflower, and pour it over square ice cubes.

Aquarius

You're always thinking outside of the box, so use that creativity while dealing with a Saturnian slow-down in projects. Mix peppermint syrup instead of lavender into this drink, and chill your glass before you pour it: you are, after all, too cool for school.

Pisces

You may add a few pounds to your frame this month. You'll be a bit more easy-going (not a problem for you), prone to excessive behaviors (how bad can that be?), and flowing with creative juices. Seek out what you love doing. Just watch your limits, lest you find yourself sucking this, or any other drink, out of a bucket with a bendy straw.

Tasting Notes: Washington State Wines

Mon, 20 May 2013 05:50:15 GMT

by Jon Bonnandeacute;
Amavi Cellars Walla Walla Valley Cabernet Sauvignon 2009 ($29) Full of Walla Walla charm, Jean-François Pellet's cabernet sauvignon is savory with dark fruit and a mineral cut.

Andrew Will Columbia Valley Cabernet Franc 2011 ($25) A terrific everyday wine, brimming with the variety's smoky and basil-scented qualities. Ripe and refreshing.

Andrew Will Two Blondes Columbia Valley Red 2009 ($52) This cellar-worthy estate blend is heady with salty, spicy pepper and zesty berry flavors. Add cumin to a marinade and enjoy.

Buty Winery Columbia Rediviva Phinny Hill Vineyard Estate Grown 2009 ($50) Winemaker Caleb Foster shows the best of two grapes-cabernet sauvignon and syrah-in a meaty, oregano-tinged blend packed with cherry fruit.

Cadence Winery Tapteil Vineyard Red Mountain 2009 ($45) Tapteil Vineyard, on Red Mountain, delivers notably tannic wines. Vintner Ben Smith has tamed them here, with musk and tobacco notes. Perfect for a big side of beef.

Cor Cellars Momentum Red, Horse Heaven Hills 2009 ($17) Winemaker Luke Bradford's Bordeaux-ish blend, with mace aromas and punchy fruit, comes from the stark Horse Heaven Hills area east of the Columbia Gorge.

Todd Coleman

Domaine Pouillon Katydid, Horse Heaven Hills 2010 ($20) Grenache, syrah, mourvèdre, and cinsault make for a tangy, thyme-scented barbecue-friendly bottle that outshines many of its Rhône counterparts.

Gramercy Cellars The Third Man Columbia Valley Red 2010 ($46) Greg Harrington, a New York sommelier-turned-Washington winemaker, had Rhône-inspired dreams when he went west. His grenache-led blend's rich berry fruit is elevated by stony, flowery accents.

Gramercy Cellars Walla Walla Valley Syrah 2010 ($55)Setting a new standard for Walla Walla wines, this inky syrah is full of bright, brambly fruit and green peppercorn spice.

Januik Columbia Valley Merlot 2010 ($25) Dark, tart berries and elegant tannins are interlaced with latte and warm spice in this beautifully structured wine from merlot master Mike Januik. Try it with grilled pork tenderloin.

Todd Coleman

Jones of Washington Wahluke Slope Estate Cabernet 2009 ($15) Wine grapes from central Washington's Wahluke Slope drive this remarkable plum-accented value, a delicious foil for charred hanger steak.

Memaloose Idiot's Grace Vineyard Columbia Gorge Cabernet Franc Estate 2010 ($29) Cabernet franc's varietal beauty is on display here, with pimentón, smoke, and juicy huckleberry. It's a wine made for everything from grilled portabellos to planked salmon.

Owen Roe Sinister Hand Columbia Valley Red 2011 ($24) This charming, well-known grenache-driven blend shows particular freshness, with a pepperiness to the berry and watermelon accents.

Scarborough Winery Columbia Valley Royale Red Blend 2009 ($35) The focus of this blend is on merlot and cabernet franc and their pretty jasmine and bayberry qualities. Think lamb.

Western Expansion: Washington Wines

Mon, 20 May 2013 05:45:58 GMT

by Jon Bonnandeacute;
Rarely have I enjoyed living anywhere as much as I did in my old ranch-style house in Seattle's Maple Leaf neighborhood. Its true charm lay in the grilling area out back, where I cooked my dinner several nights a week, come shine or, more frequently, come the Northwest's endless rain. Some of my fondest cooking memories were hatched there, in Washington's damp winters, as I huddled near the fire, grilling firm, rich chinook salmon on a cedar plank, and burgers from local lamb made succulent with milk and a pinch of rosemary picked from my backyard.

To accompany these meals, there were plenty of wines-mostly reds. I had moved to Seattle at the turn of the millennium, just in time for a wine boom that was driven by small producers who saw the Northwest as the next great frontier. This was a quieter affair than the party going on to the south. While California embraced magnitude, the appeal of Washington's reds was their drinkability, their ease and flexibility with all kinds of foods, especially grilled ones. The wines could be hearty, for sure, but those cold northern nights lent them a freshness, and they exhibited a complexity that often eluded their California counterparts.

By the time I left Seattle for San Francisco in 2005, Washington was home to 360 wineries, more than twice as many as when I'd arrived, and red wine had become the state's shining star. Robust cabernet; aromatic, spicy syrah; and Bordeaux-inspired blends showcased its top vineyards, the majority of which were planted in the Columbia Valley's arid steppe on the eastern side of the Cascade Range, far from many of Washington's wineries. Although the remote town of Walla Walla, more than four hours southeast of Seattle, had drawn intrepid winemakers eager to expand the area's reputation for prodigious red wines, most of the newer vintners settled in or near the city and had the grapes trucked in. The proximity to Seattle allowed hopefuls with young families, like former Boeing engineer Ben Smith and his wife Gaye, who launched their tiny Cadence label in a south Seattle warehouse, to pursue their winemaking dreams without upending their lives.

This geographic split personality-grapes grown in one place, wine made in another-hardly diminished the quality of the wines. In addition to Walla Walla, the tiny Red Mountain appellation, tucked into the Yakima Valley growing area in south central Washington, attracted a big following for its dense, tannic reds. Not only cabernet but plush merlot, smoky cabernet franc, and inky petit verdot-the full Bordeaux grape roster-thrived in its gravelly alkaline soils. The names of Red Mountain vineyards-Tapteil, Klipsun, and others-graced bottles made by Seattle area wineries such as Andrew Will Winery, producer of some of the country's top Bordeaux-style blends.

But the distance between vineyards and wineries did complicate things. In the eyes of visitors expecting to see rows of grapes next to cellars, Washington struggled with delivering what writer Matt Kramer once called "somewhereness." And those ranks of hopeful vintners were swelling to capacity. Watching from afar as the number of wineries recently crept up to 750, I worried that such a glut would affect the quality of those lovely local wines that had completed my backyard meals back in my Seattle days. So I was rooting for Washington when, on a trip back to the state not too long ago, I delved into its recent vintages to see how the wines were holding up. I was relieved to discover that, given some new developments, Washington's wines are more interesting than ever.

For one thing, established regions are attracting winemakers with globally informed palates. With their fresh perspectives, they're creating elegant wines from grapes that grow well in Washington soil. Walla Walla, for instance, is benefiting from newcomers such as Amavi Cellars' Jean-François Pellet, who farmed vines in his native Switzerland before coming here to make mineral-driven cabernet sauvignon, the kind that pairs well with steak. Greg Harrington of Walla Walla's Gramercy Cellars worked as a master sommelier in New York, where he fell in love with the Rhône-style wines he produces now. His vivacious syrah is a great match for pork.

The appeal of Washington's reds is their intrinsic drinkability, their ease and flexibility with all kinds of grilled foods

Intriguing reds are also coming from nascent growing regions. A case in point is Andrew Will Winery's straightforward cabernet franc, made from grapes from several vineyards, including the winery's own young Two Blondes planting. Located in the town of Zillah in the Yakima Valley, Two Blondes occupies a spot once considered too cold for red wines. But cabernet franc has made a happy home here-and a case for being Washington's perfect variety. Its smoky flavors and bright red fruit, preserved by cold October harvests in these latitudes, are right for nearly everything off the grill, especially lamb.

Cabernet franc is also thriving in the Columbia River Gorge, Washington's other emerging region. The gorge was formed by the ancient volcanic lift of the Cascades and the mighty Columbia River as it wound westward from the arid eastern desert and between the mountains toward what is now downtown Portland, Oregon. The Missoula Floods-massive walls of water at the end of the last ice age-left exposed volcanic-rock cliffs and an astonishing jumble of soils along this 40-mile stretch of river that divides Oregon and Washington. Rarely do you encounter such a chaotic stretch of geography. (The Columbia Gorge appellation, created in 2004, is the rare winegrowing area to straddle two states, and neither Oregon nor Washington has exclusively claimed it.)

In response to the Columbia Gorge's eclectic terroir, there's an experimentalism that I find particularly exciting. For instance, the family-owned outfit Memaloose Wines has planted 20 different varieties on fewer than 17 acres of mostly organic vineyards on either side of the Columbia, trying out not only cabernet franc but even lighter reds such as gamay noir. Washington has always balanced its robust reds with a certain nuance, but Memaloose's cabernet franc was a thrilling discovery-even more quiet, and far more delicately perfumed, than others. It showed a side of Washington reds I'd never encountered before; I had to seek out a few bottles to accompany the salmon I still love to grill.

Not far from Memaloose, Alexis and Juliet Pouillon make Rhône varieties with grapes from their own biodynamic vineyard and others. I first encountered Domaine Pouillon's Katydid, a bright, herbaceous mix of grenache, syrah, mourvèdre, and cinsault, on a cold November night last year, just the thing to balance the subtle yet beefy flavors of the grilled tongue I was eating. In an instant Katydid felt familiar: that dusty desert edge and tangy cold-weather fruit, that Washington-ness.

This is just the sort of Washington wine I'd always adored, huddling by the warmth of my Seattle grill. Its charms hadn't gone anywhere. They had just wandered a bit farther afield-to growing regions and styles of red wine that, though new to the state, fit in beautifully.

Drink Pairings for Pizza

Fri, 17 May 2013 08:30:00 GMT

by Katie Parla
A wheat beer from Sardinia, Birrificio Barley Friska ($23; 750 ml) is extraordinarily fresh, food-friendly, and at just 5 percent alcohol, thirst-quenching. Its pleasant citrus aromas and flavors, enhanced by a hint of coriander, cut through the fat. Pair it with hefty creations like the pistacchio e mortadella pie, as well as pizza topped with that iconic Neapolitan duo salsiccia e friarielli (sausage and broccoli rabe). Birra del Borgo Caos ($23; 750 ml) is an intriguing marriage of wine and beer. It's created by adding the juice of malvasia wine grapes-a variety with a sweet, pearlike flavor-to the kettle while brewing an ale made from nutty-tasting spelt. Fermented in the bottle with champagne yeast, this light palate cleanser has a fine fizziness that can carry you through deep-fried starters such as angioletti fritti (fried pizza dough) as well as the Montara Starita, a pizza that's first fried then baked.

Barone Pizzini Franciacorta Brut NV ($17; 750 ml), a méthode champenoise sparkling wine from Lombardy, is structured and acidic. Its floral notes call for pizza topped with aromatic and delicate prosciutto (try it with calzone di prosciutto e ricotta, ham and cheese calzone) or a rich burrata.

Best when chilled (10C/50F), Cantine Federiciane Monteleone Penisola Sorrentina Gragnano ($15; 750 ml) sees Campania's indigenous aglianico, piedirosso, and sciascinoso grapes blended into an effervescent off-dry red wine. Fresh and vivacious, it makes an ideal pairing with the classic pizza margherita.

A still alternative is Guido Marsella Poggi Reali Greco di Tufo DOCG ($19; 750 ml) , made from an ancient white grape, greco di tufo. It has a firm acidity and mineral notes accompanied by a smoky finish that complements the pizza del papa (butternut squash and smoked mozzarella) and other pies made with smoked mozzarella.

Coca-Cola won't be disappearing from the market anytime soon, but Baladin Cola ($4; 250 ml) presents an artisanal alternative. This Piedmont-based soda is made with crimson colored, caffeinated kola nuts from Kenema in the northwestern African nation of Sierra Leone. It has a lingering sweetness and bitter finish that goes great with everything from pizza margherita to a pizza noci e zucchini (topped with walnut pesto and zucchini).

Campania's Feudi di San Gregorio Lacryma Christi Bianco Vesuvio DOC ($14; 750 ml), a blend of local coda di volpe and falanghina grapes, is a steely white wine with refreshing citrus notes, perfect for washing down a rich creation such as the rachetta (a pizza-calzone hybrid stuffed with mushrooms and topped with ricotta, mozzarella, pecorino romano, cherry tomatoes, and basil).

Friday Cocktails: French Monaco

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:15:00 GMT

by Sara Cann
Ordering a Monaco in Paris is akin to ordering a Shirley Temple in the states-only kids do it. I didn't know this the first time I heard about the frothy beer cocktail, which is spiked with grenadine or cassis and French lemonade; I just thought it was an ingenious way to dress up a light brew. As I explored Paris, ordering Monacos along the way, Parisian bartenders started to snicker at me. When a friend eventually whispered that only high school kids drink this beverage, I realized I had managed to make myself look young, even in a country that doesn't ask for your ID at the door. Mon dieu!

Personal pride notwithstanding, I love a drink with texture-one of my fondest memories as a kid was my family's milkshake machine purchase. In the Monaco, the addition of syrup and lemonade completely transforms a simple glass of light beer, creating a thick head that pleasantly coats the tongue, just like foamy waves on bare feet. It's comforting, it's smooth, and it's delicious. Returning stateside, I was hard-pressed to find a Monaco in an NYC bar-or any American bar for that matter-so to quell my cravings for this adolescent drink I decided to give it a grown-up facelift. I made my own grenadine (which lets you taste the pomegranate rather than burying the flavor under sickly-sweet corn syrup), then whipped up a batch of fresh-squeezed lemonade and topped it all off with Stella Artois (which is what they use in Paris) and voilà: the perfect shandy for summer. The only thing that could make this drink more satisfying is if I were sitting in a corner café in Paris pretending to understand le Monde.

See the recipe for French Monaco »

Urban Grapes

Mon, 13 May 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Joe Appel

In college, I read about fin de siècle Vienna and fell in love with the city from afar. I took Viennese modernists as my heroes and became enamored of their ideas: Arnold Schoenberg embraced musical dissonance; Sigmund Freud asked the individual to reject no aspect of himself, no matter how crude, in striving for self-insight. Experimental yet informed by ancient urges, a friend to nature but committed to a built future, their modern man was a complicated blend of the old and the new.

Not far into this century, the pretensions of my youth having settled their aging sights on food and wine, I finally made it to Vienna myself. There, I found unique wines that embody the same complexities I had cherished in Viennese art and culture.

On an autumn afternoon, I sat with Elke Hajszan on a bench at Weingut Hajszan Neumann, the winery she helps her husband Stefan run, gazing down from the vine-covered Nussberg slopes onto the city 500 feet below. I felt far from the urban hustle and, also, a part of it. Alongside cured meats, pickles, and the delicious cheese spread called Liptauer from the Hajszans' heurige, or winery tavern, Elke introduced me to Vienna gemischter satz wine, an intriguing white blend.

For most of the world's blends, the wines from each grape are made separately and blended afterwards for the final product. But gemischter satz, meaning "mixed set," is a true field blend, made from myriad grape varieties that are grown, harvested, crushed, and fermented together to make one wine.

It's a tradition that dates back at least to Roman times, when grapevines grew together on family farms. Whereas other cities gradually lost vineyards as they urbanized, an 18th-century decree stipulated that Vienna's crazy-quilt winemaking districts were to remain in perpetuity. Most of the more than 300 vintners within Vienna city limits make gemischter satz, and they treat it as their greatest asset.

"Gemischter satz is like a Wall Street portfolio," according to Gerhard Lobner, managing director at Vienna's Rotes Haus and Mayer Am Pfarrplatz wineries. "You want to diversify." This is because grapes have variety-specific responses to weather conditions; if one variety does poorly, the blend can be adjusted so that others compensate. "Some years there's early frost, some years hail," Lobner told me. "It's a way of preserving your worth."

The wines wrestle a cacophony of flavors and temperaments into sometimes untidy, but always beguiling, symbioses of softness and acidity, fruit and spice, herbs and minerals

It's also a delicious expression of the complex personalities of Vienna's vineyards, each of which yields a different blend. Peppery grüner veltliner, tantalizingly aromatic riesling, taut chardonnay, spicy neuburger, citrusy silvaner, welschriesling with its earthy funk-gemischter satz wines can contain more than 20 different grape types. The wines wrestle a cacophony of flavors and temperaments into sometimes untidy, but always beguiling, symbioses of softness and acidity, fruit and spice, herbs and minerals.

Because these blends vary so widely but unite so many different grape characteristics, it's practically impossible to find a food that can't be paired with one. Entry-level gemischter satz from Weingut Wien Cobenzl goes seamlessly with rustic fare such as wiener schnitzel. More nuanced wines, such as a resonant old-vine blend from the 400-year-old Christ family winery, hold up to spicy, salty-sweet Southeast Asian dishes. Suited to the eclectic way most of us eat and drink now, gemischter satz is less about uniformity and integration than exuberant synergy of flavors. And, happily for me, it's as vibrant as the city it comes from.

See a gallery of great Vienna white wines »

French Monaco Cocktail

Mon, 13 May 2013 06:45:55 GMT

MAKES 1 COCKTAIL

INGREDIENTS

1½ oz. pomegranate syrup
2 oz. lemonade
6 oz. pale lager, preferably Stella Artois

INSTRUCTIONS

In an ice-filled shaker, syrup and lemonade; shake vigorously and strain into a chilled beer glass. Top with beer.

FOR THE POMEGRANATE SYRUP

1 cup unsweetened pomegranate juice
½ cup sugar

Bring juice and sugar to a boil in a 1-qt. saucepan. Cook, stirring, until sugar is dissolved, about 1 minute; let cool.

FOR THE LEMONADE

1 oz simple syrup
1 oz fresh lemon juice

Stir to combine.

Perfect Champagne Brunch Cocktails

Sat, 11 May 2013 16:00:00 GMT

You might drown your sorrows in a whiskey or martini, but when it's time for good news, only sparkling wine will do. And when it's time for a celebratory brunch, there's nothing more delightful than a Champagne cocktail.

The most familiar sparkling cocktail for morning is likely the Mimosa, a simple mix of orange juice and sparkling wine. But if you're looking to drink something a little different with your eggs benedict, there's an endless array of possibilites to be made with a bottle of sparkling wine and a bit of creative mixology. Here are ten of our favorite combinations:

1. Add a splash of pomegranate liqueur (like Pama); garnish with mint.

2. Add a bit of amaretto and a good amount of pear juice.

3. Soak a sugar cube in bitters then drop it in a full glass of bubbly.

4. Mix in a spoonful of coconut cream.

5. Add a dash of grenadine; garnish with freshly ground pepper.

6. Stir in a splash of elderflower liqueur; garnish with a large lemon twist.

7. Muddle a handful of blueberries and basil in a glass, add bubbly.

8. Top with a few fresh or frozen raspberries, and add a scoop of raspberry sorbet, if you like.

9. Add a dash of Campari or Aperol; garnish with an orange twist.

10. Mix with mango juice; garnish with a lime twist.

Friday Cocktails: Fizzy Lifting Drink

Fri, 10 May 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Kellie Evans
When I was young, the quickest way for me to get into a ravenous state of gastronomic longing was to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the 1971 fantasy musical about a lonely chocolatier and the hapless children he squired through a tour of his factory. From a chocolate river, to chewing gum that made you feel like you'd eaten a full roast-beef dinner, to wallpaper that tasted like fruit (sadly, despite my checking for it, my parents' Virginia home did not have this feature), the wonders of Willy Wonka's world sent me spiraling into fantasy.

But there was always one scene that made my brow furrow: Our hero Charlie and his grandfather sneak away from the group to try a sip of Fizzy Lifting Drink, a soda that they were warned not to sample-and with good reason, as its effervescent effect leads them within moments of a terrifying death by razor-sharp fan. Still, the shining sip looks like it's worth it, and even though we're never told what the soda tastes like, I've always wanted a sip.

On a recent trip to Charleston, South Carolina, I came the closest I may ever get: Christian Broder, of Social Restaurant and Wine Bar on East Bay Street, served me his take on fizzy lifting drink, a pink concoction of fruity crème de cassis and gingery Domain de Canton liqueur, topped with a generous pour of Champagne. Light, sweet, and spicy, it may not have made me float up to the ceiling in reality, but it certainly lifted me up in spirit-and satiated the long-standing desires of my inner child, to boot.

See the recipe for Fizzy Lifting Drink »

Twist of the Knife: Tequila's Authentic Batanga

Thu, 09 May 2013 05:27:23 GMT

by Gabi Porter
In the western Mexico town of Tequila, there's a small, nondescript cantina called La Capilla, which happens to be a major bucket list stop for the world's cocktail nerds. La Capilla (literally "the chapel") is the home of the batanga, a simple drink created in the 1950s by Don Javier Delgado Corona, the bar's owner. Now well into his nineties, Don Javier can still be convinced to get behind the bar to make a drink or two for tequila pilgrims.

The batanga is simple: nothing more than tequila, coke, and fresh lime juice, served in a tall glass with a salted rim. But inside La Capilla's walls, it takes on an almost magical quality. I've tried to make the drink at home many times, but as Don Javier will tell you, the secret to its flavor isn't in the ingredients-it's his big knife, which he uses to stir the cocktails, chop up avocado for guacamole, chiles for his homemade hot sauce, and everything else he might need. Nevertheless, it is certainly worth trying to recreate the legendary cocktail for sipping at home throughout the summer months.

To make your own batanga, start with a tall, sturdy glass. Cut the top off of a small lime and run the cut edge around the rim. Dip the rim of the glass in salt, preferably salt that's nice and chunky and crystalline, and squeeze the rest of the juice from the cut lime into the glass. Add plenty of ice, and then fill the glass halfway up with a good, blanco tequila, and the rest with Mexican Coke (the variety that uses cane sugar rather than high-fructose corn syrup). Stir gently with a big knife, and enjoy.

See Don Javier make batangas in the gallery »

Friday Cocktails: 14 Mexican-Inspired Drinks for Cinco de Mayo

Sun, 05 May 2013 06:00:00 GMT

With Cinco de Mayo this weekend, we're already busy chopping cilantro and chiles and prepping our favorite salsas and guacamoles to serve with big bowls of freshly-fried, salty tortilla chips. But when it comes to the drinks menu, we've got too many favorite Mexican-inspired cocktails to serve just one. From a classic frozen margarita, to the Chico - a blackberry liqueur and tequila cocktail popular in Texas/Mexico border towns in the 1950s - to the refreshing combination of sweet and tart that is the grapefruit-based Paloma, these 14 party-perfect drinks keep the celebration going.

See 14 recipes for Mexican-inspired cocktails in the gallery »

Friday Cocktails: The Thousand-Dollar Mint Julep

Fri, 03 May 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Helen Rosner
For some people, the Kentucky Derby is a day of horse-racing. For others, it's a day of hat-wearing. For me-and, I imagine, for far more than belong to those other two categories-it is a day of mint juleps, the iconic Derby drink of strong bourbon and sweet mint over crushed ice, a sophisticated snow-cone served, classically, in a frost-covered silver cup.

For a drink of such three-ingredient simplicity as the mint julep, there are dozens of ways to make it. My favorite ratio-and, as it happens, the version that the Kentucky Derby itself has sanctioned as their official variation-combines three parts bourbon to one part of a simple syrup bracingly infused with fresh spearmint. The recipe comes by way of Woodford Reserve, the bourbon you'll find rounding out julep cups everywhere at the Derby.

The Thousand Dollar Julep gets its name from Woodford Reserve's annual tradition of selling a particularly fancy version (I bet you can guess the price tag) at the Derby each year, in a commemorative cup. Proceeds go to support equine charities, and this year's model was built around a theme of "gold": it boasts ice made from gold-filtered Nova Scotia mineral water, gold-dusted mint leaves, and a golden sorghum syrup, and it's served, as you would expect, in a gold-edged cup. Of course, you can make an excellent version of this recipe with regular mint, normal sugar, ice from your freezer, and whatever glass you have on hand-so while I may be drinking my julep under slightly less gilded circumstances, I have no doubt it'll be just as delicious.

See the recipe for the Thousand-Dollar Mint Julep »

Good and Steamed: California's Steam Beer

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 05:00:00 GMT

by Ken Weaver
As I settle onto a bar stool at Vesuvio Cafe in San Francisco's North Beach neighborhood, the bartender pours me just what I've come here for: a perfect pint of Anchor Steam beer. It's brilliantly clear, deep amber in color, and capped by a bone-white head of foam. Savoring its crystalline-sugar sweetness, all I can think is how far this beer has come.

Steam beer traces its lineage back to the frontier brewing conditions of late 19th-century San Francisco. Back then, efforts to re-create the popular pale lagers of Europe-which required cool temperatures to ferment-were hampered by the city's lack of affordable refrigeration. The solution was to brew a beer with lager yeasts at warmer temperatures, often associated with ales. The "steam" moniker is said to have come from the hissing of kegs filled with the brew, which bubbled with CO₂ produced by the over-heated lager yeast. The taste was often sour. Still, nickel schooners of steam beer were a welcome option for San Francisco's laboring class.

As brewing technologies evolved, steam beer became an anachronism. In 1965, the last company making it, Anchor Brewing Company, was near bankruptcy when it was bought by Fritz Maytag. The washing machine heir overhauled Anchor's formula, replacing adjunct sugar and rice malts with pure barley malts, improving quality control, and buying only the choicest hops. Anchor eventually trademarked the term "steam beer," but its essence lives on under the sobriquet "California Common." Lucky Hand Brewing Company in Novato, California, makes a slightly spicy Common that's one of my favorites, while Oakland's Linden Street Brewery bases its entire lineup on steam-brewing techniques, calling them Old California-Style Lagers. "This is a beer style that was born right here in America," founder Adam Lamoreaux says. "We only have a couple of those."

Tasting Notes

Anchor Steam Beer
The modern-day archetype, Anchor Steam ties minty Northern Brewer hops to a deft backing of pale and caramel malts with a subtle, refreshing fruitiness.

Lucky Hand Cali Common
Spicy German hops, Munich malt, and effervescent carbonation yield a mildly bitter and lively California Common-style beer that happens to be certified organic.

Linden Street The 'Town Lager
A crisp, toasty hybrid with an herbaceous finish, this beer is not sold in bottles and is only available at bars within the Oakland city limits. My favorite place to have one is at the English-style CommonWealth pub in the KoNo neighborhood. -K.W.

Friday Cocktails: Corpse Reviver No. 2

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 06:30:00 GMT

by Laura Sant
On a recent Sunday afternoon, I found myself with a house full of guests-half of them ready to start cocktail hour, the other half still recovering from a bit too much fun the night before. Casting about for a concoction that would function equally well as an afternoon drink and hair-of-the-dog remedy, I settled on the Corpse Reviver No. 2: equal parts gin, lemon juice, Lillet blanc, and Cointreau, with a dash of absinthe. An ice-cold nip of this elixir is refreshing, astringent, and strong enough to perk up the senses-reviving, indeed.

Popularized by the 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock, the Corpse Reviver No. 2 is part of a succession of "Corpse Revivers" originally devised as a hangover cure. Many cocktail-makers recommend straying from Craddock's recipe (but staying true to it in spirit) by swapping out the Lillet Blanc for Cocchi Americano, as I like to do; the Italian aperitif is similar to the original formula of Kina Lillet that the Corpse Reviver No. 2 was likely created with, and adds a slight bitter note that's missing from the modern version.

There's a famous note accompanying the recipe in the Savoy Cocktail Book: "Four of these taken in swift succession will unrevive the corpse again." Personally, I'd say that more than two will take care of that, but depending on how bad your hangover is, that might not be altogether unwelcome.

See the recipe for the Corpse Reviver No. 2 »

Friday Cocktails: Pickle Cocktail

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 07:06:11 GMT

by Betsy Andrews
Brother and sister Alex and Natasha Pogrebinsky hail from Kiev, Ukraine. At their 2-year-old restaurant in Long Island City, New York, The Bear, Natasha makes the kind of Eastern European food that's as delicious and soul-satisfying as my Ukrainian grandmothers' was, but also smart, fresh, fascinating. This isn't peasant food; it's intellectual, upscale, urbane. It harkens back to the Kiev of the siblings' noble ancestry, one traced to the 13th century. But it's also, in a good way, just very New York.

Alex's cocktails match the food. His St. Dill Martini, of which I had a few too many on a recent Friday night, is poised and pretty in the way that market-driven cocktails are: spicy yellow pearls of mustard seeds, long feathery dill sprigs, and a snappy kosher dill set into a crystal-clear composition of spirits. All of these ingredients, along with the vodka (hushed by a whisper of dry vermouth and a slug of pickle juice), offer staple Ukrainian flavors. It's a sophisticated drink but an authentic one, perfect for washing down the small bites that start the meal-deviled eggs crowned with caviar, their filling bolstered by smoked sprats; delicate melting curls of salo (house-cured fatback); and that rarity in Stateside restaurants, aspic, this one mingling beef and pork in a gelled broth-a glass brick of umami-topped with prepared horseradish and pickled mushrooms. Truth be told, though, clutching glass after glass, I drank the St. Dill Martini straight through the stroganoff and the chicken Kiev and all the way to the last bite of the chocolate-rum truffles for dessert.

See the recipe for the St. Dill Martini »

NOLA Cocktail Culture

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 07:30:00 GMT

by Todd Coleman
The cocktail may not have been invented in New Orleans, but it was perfected here-the city, in keeping with its abundant joie de vivre, has given rise to some of the nation's most spectacular and beloved libations. The same inventiveness and flair for theatricality that drive the city's big-flavored Creole cuisine (see New Orleans) shine through in its drinks: intense, layered, gorgeous concoctions that often resemble sorcery more than bartending. Drinks and dining go hand in hand in New Orleans, whether it's a preprandial Sazerac (a bracing blend of rye, bitters, and a kiss of absinthe, invented here in the 1850s) or the Café Brûlot Diabolique (born at Antoine's Restaurant in the 1890s and pictured, right), an after-dinner drink made, tableside, by cascading flaming brandy down a long twist of clove-studded orange rind into a pool of spiced coffee. As Ti Adelaide Martin, co-owner of Commander's Palace, puts it, "A great meal begins and ends with a great cocktail." We'll drink to that.

See more New Orleans cocktails in our gallery »

Bitter Sweet: Peychaud's Bitters

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 06:30:00 GMT

by Felicia Campbell
In 1838, Antoine Peychaud Jr. opened an apothecary in the French Quarter. There he served a remedy for stomach ailments made by mixing brandy with a proprietary tincture of bitter gentian root soaked with botanicals and other spices in high-proof alcohol. The combination was soon in demand across the city, and eventually became the basis for one of New Orleans' first cocktails, the Sazerac. Since then Peychaud's bitters have become essential to Big Easy-born tipples. It's still a key component in the Sazerac, as well as newer creations such as the Vieux Carré. Sweet and floral with hints of nutmeg and cinnamon, just a few dashes lend mixed drinks a warm herbal fragrance and flavor.

See the recipe for the Sazerac »