The Eighth Drunken Air Force

[stochasticjack]

Greetings all. 

I think we can all agree (or not) that the setting of clear, achievable goals is one of the keys to a happy and fulfilling life. 

It is in this wise that Martialstax and I have formulated the following goal:

In the next year, we will make and consume all 65 or so of the cocktails on the IBA list.

Now, this would be a simple and admirable enough goal to accomplish, were we just to go to a bar and order stuff from the menu.  But we also have the secondary goal of acquiring and stocking the required components, so that, once we have achieved our goal, we will possess all the fluids and accoutrements needed to make any decent cocktail.  Glasses, liqueurs, garnishes; we will have it all.

We also plan on getting really really hammered.

Stay tuned here for reviews of the various wossnames.

[Hunter]

I thought the BoozeBasher crew's ultimate goal of bringing honest and entertaining liquor reviews to average joe drinker was a noble untertaking, but you have shown me the light.  I see that your goal is very similar in nature: you want to possess certain liquor knowledge, you want a fully-capable bar, and you want to feel as though you acheived something rather monumental and thus proving to your family that you are not just washed-up drunks.  The key element that differs is the fact that your undertaking is much more selfish.  I knew my plan wasn't perfect!  I forgot the selfishness that courses through my alcohol-inhabited veins!  How could I be so thoughtless?!  I almost had you there.  I am plenty selfish; for you see, I hope to one day be a liquor review millionaire...perhaps the worlds first.  It probably won't happen, but I can gain a wealth of liquor knowledge to help me score hot bartenders.  Now if we could just get those damn BoozeBasher business cards printed...

[Wade]

yeah

[stochasticjack]

Wow.  Praise from Caesar.  Caesars.  Caesarii.  Forget it. 

Here's Drink #1:
The Harvey Wallbanger

Overview:
Invented by Bartending God "Duke" Antone, also famous for inventing the Rusty Nail, this drink was seriously hot in the era of Qiana jumpsuits and shag carpeting.  TWA had a promotion in which they featured the cocktail in the upper-deck flight lounge of their 747 airliners.  But for some reason, people don't seem to get down with Harvey these days.  What is up with that?  We decided to find out.

Booze Requirements:
We had to get a bottle of Galliano and a bottle of Russian Standard Vodka, since we only had about half a fifth of Monopolowa left and Martial and I both suffer from the totally-rational fear that, while it is possible to make too much of a drink, it is far more horrible to not have enough, especially in a state with such strict BAC levels as Washington.

Mixers:
I ran into the Albertson's next door to the State Liquor Store and picked up some cans of frozen orange juice, which then reduced my forearms to numb masses of useless cold flesh while I waited for the cretin in front of me to figure out how to buy three carrots at the self-pay register.  I also got some tropical fruit juice, on the theory that, hey, I think we still have some rum.

Preparation:
We came back to 8DAF HQ and turned on the radio to hear that Oscar Peterson had died.  Massive bummer.  Fortunately, Martial had an Oscar CD sitting on top of the TV; he didn't even have to look for it.  Ironically, it was titled "Last Call At The Blue Note."  That went in the stereo.
Making a Harvey Wallbanger is so simple that even Australians can do it.  Take six parts OJ and three parts vodka and mix with ice.  Float one part Galliano over the top.  Garnish, or don't (we didn't, and we admit we really need to work on that; having only recently discovered that the Magic Cold Box in the Food Room can refrigerate things other than beer), and drink.
Unfortunately, the only measuring device we happened to have handy was a shot glass, which meant that we wound up with Harvey Wallbangers in pint glasses.  Um, not that we're complaining.

Assessment:
Oh, baby, where have you been all my life?  I must admit to a certain bias against "clever" named drinks.  Anyone asking for "Sex On The Beach" around me had better be a Japanese coed at Omimaiko Beach, and anyone asking for a "One-Balled Dictator" had better be ready for a painful demonstration of my inability to understand figures of speech.
But this thing is, words fail me, good.  The Galliano floats nicely on the top, ensuring that you can taste it all the way to the bottom, and it smooths out the acidic bite of the orange juice.  Using top-shelf vodka is important to avoid that Skin Bracer aftertaste though.

Rating:

Chief Master Sergeant

[Hunter]

Very nice.  We can use that as an example when we get around to adding the user-submitted reviews to the site.  Don't worry, only "premium" boozers (any member of the forum) will be allowed to submit.  Don't ask me how I'm going to do that just yet, but I have a feeling that I will give myself a JavaScript crash-course.  Again, well done.

[stochasticjack]

NOTE: I'm not going to be doing this every night, it just turned out that I could do two nights in a row.  Let's proceed.

Drink #2:
The Martini

Overview:
Is there a more storied cocktail than the martini?  Does there exist a drink about which more songs have been sung, more novels written, more blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Get over it, folks.  It's a drink.  Granted, it's a really nice drink, and one of my personal favorites, but jeez can some people just suck all the fun out of it.  My niece's husband, for instance.  He's a good guy, and he likes nothing more than to make a nice martini, but he is one of these quasi-autistic types who always has to follow THE RULES.  Cancer researchers don't put the effort into their work that this guy does into making a martini.  Everything must be calculated to the milliliter, and he actually uses the stopwatch on his Rolex to time the shaking process.  Sigh.

Are his martinis good?  Yeah, they're pretty good.

Is it worth waiting through a ceremony as long, complicated, and ultimately painful as a bris to drink one?
Well, in the end, yeah, I suppose, because he always insists on buying the booze, and one of my rules is, "I'll put up with a lot for free drink."

Having said that, I think that people who overthink the process too much run the risk of taking all the fun and spontaneity out of things.  You can say that for most of the fun things in life: Blues; sex; and especially drink.  (I can't think of anything else for that list at the moment.)

Art, as someone famous whose name I can't be arsed to look up on Wikipedia at the moment once said, is all about knowing which mistakes to keep.  I prefer a more... dynamic creation process in my mixology, which allows for more exciting events and makes the whole thing into a journey of discovery.

Also, I'm really impatient and don't like waiting for stuff.  Here we go.

Booze Requirements:
I think we can all agree, except for those of us who don't, that the most important aspect of the martini is the gin.  For one thing, if it doesn't have gin in it, then it's not a martini.  It might be something else, and it might be delicious, but the one ironclad rule is that Martinis Must Have Gin.  And Vermouth.

I am a huge fan of gin, despite the fact that I always drink a lot of it and then wake up three days later swearing at a waitress in a Perkins Cake-N-Steak hundreds of miles from my home.  Until recently, I lived in Kyoto, Japan, and there are many hilarious stories involving me and the consumption of massive amounts of gin.  Someday I will email my friends who still live there and ask them if they can remember those stories.

So my point, belabored and forgotten as it is, is that you must have some gin.  It further follows that, if you're going to need some gin, it might as well be good gin, and following this line of logic to its inevitable conclusion, we find that if you're going to have some good gin, it might as well be bloody good gin.

So we got some Hendrick's.

The vermouth we got is Noilly Prat Extra Dry.  I like this vermouth for two reasons.  First, it makes a nice martini.  Second, I enjoy pronouncing the name incorrectly: "Noy-lee PRATT."  I hope that in doing so, I am causing a Frenchman somewhere to involuntarily shudder.  And that's nice.

Mixers:
One of the many aspects of a martini's awesomeness is that it is the very best kind of cocktail, namely, one sort of booze mixed with another sort of booze, with nothing to water down the kick.  The only extra thing you need is ice. 

Accoutrements:
A martini shaker, no matter what people will tell you, really isn't needed to make a martini.  You can whack one up in a pint glass, or a Tupperware pitcher, or, as my brother and I once did while camping, by mixing the components together in an empty Gatorade bottle and sticking it outside the cabin in the snow for fifteen minutes.

But I like the classic shaker.  It looks like something Raymond Loewy might have designed, and, for all I know, did.  (It turns out he did the interior of Skylab.)  And nothing says Serious Drinker like owning your own martini glasses and cocktail shaker.  Also, we already had one in the house.  I think I bought it years ago.

Preparation:
This is the tricky part, if you're my niece's husband.  Or it's the fun part, if you're me.
Step one: Put some ice into the shaker.
Step two: Put some gin in the shaker.
Step three: Add some vermouth. 

Okay, wait a minute, hold on.  There is a raging debate, all over the world, about the "correct" ratio of gin to vermouth.  The vehemence that at times rages over this discussion is repellent to those of us of a delicate disposition.  Wikipedia tells us that the original ratio could be as low as 2:1, but that 3:1 was more common in the Old Days.  Nowadays, a 5:1 ratio is the accepted standard.  Richard Hooker and William Butterworth, who wrote the M*A*S*H novels, claimed that Hawkeye and Trapper would pour gin into the glass and simply lay a delicate mist over the top.

Which is correct?

Whichever one you personally think tastes the best.

You should probably use less vermouth than gin; other than that, you're on your own.  I myself prefer a very loose 5:1 ratio.

Step four: Shake (or stir; whatever, Ian Fleming).
Step five: Serve with, and this is important, whatever the hell you want to garnish it with.  This is another Vietnam that I want no part of, thank you so much.  Olives?  Fine.  Teeny onions?  Groovy.  A live nightingale skewered on a sparkplug wire?  FINE.  Watch me not care.

Here's the secret to a good martooni, kids.  If you use the aforementioned Bloody Good Gin and an immediately identifiable brand of Dry Vermouth (Noilly Prat or Martini & Rossi are both perfectly acceptable), then it's going to taste just fine.

The difference, of course, between Just Fine and Gloria In Excelsis Deo is something that can only be accomplished through extensive experimentation.

And that's the fun part.

Assessment:
It's a martini, baby.  Martinis are like women: each one is different; each one is beautiful in its own way; and too many of them will make you crazy and broke.

I would however, like to say a word on the topic of Hendrick's Gin. 

And that word is "YES." The mild botanicals and cucumber infusion in Hendrick's make a damned tasty martini.  Summer is traditionally High Gin Season for me, and I look forward to sitting on the front porch of my house this next summer and drinking Hendrick's G&Ts while listening to Chet Baker until I reach a state of cool heretofore associated only with penguins.  I am part Scots, and I can say now that my people have mastered three types of booze, and all the types of drinking.

Rank:

Eighth Drunken Air Force Command gives this the rank of Chief Master Sergeant. 
(I know, that's two top ratings in a row, but I'm sure we'll find something icky soon.)

[stochasticjack]

Very nice.  We can use that as an example when we get around to adding the user-submitted reviews to the site.  Don't worry, only "premium" boozers (any member of the forum) will be allowed to submit.  Don't ask me how I'm going to do that just yet, but I have a feeling that I will give myself a JavaScript crash-course.  Again, well done.

Yeah, this is also a book idea that is developing for Martial and myself...  Feel free to use the stuff though.

[Agent Smith]

you use your tounge prettier than a ten dollar whore   

[Hunter]

Oh yeah, I remember the book thing now.  My memory is deplorable.  I like ten dollar whores too.

[stochasticjack]

you use your tounge prettier than a ten dollar whore   

Any Mel Brooks quote is full of win.  Thanks.

[martialstax]

In the Harvey Wallbanger review, Jack says we were listening to Oscar Peterson, while I had mentioned earlier we were listening to Tom Waits' Mule Variations. Both are true. We started listening to Oscar, then moved on to Tom, and finished off with Watermelon Slim and the Workers. Because the Blues are perfect for the end of a long night of drinking.

[Wade]

Fuck you too.

[stochasticjack]

Random bollockery from various people notwithstanding, the 8DAF present:

Drink #3:
The Old Fashioned

Overview:
The Old Fashioned is possibly the first ever "cocktail" to be referred to as such, and I invite the truly interested reader to go over to Wikipedia and check out their entry on the topic.  Wikipedia is also where we get most of the recipes as well. 

Martial decided to try making an OF by the simple expedient of looking around 8DAF HQ and seeing what we had in the cupboard, the fridge, and loaded up on the liquor cart.  As some Old Overholt Rye had recently been acquired (thank you the use of the passive voice in modern writing), and we were also in possession of some sugar and Angostura, he went for it.  I made myself one just now, to enjoy while waiting for some red beans and rice to cook up.

Booze Requirements:
You need some rye whiskey.  I like Old Overholt.  You can also use a Canadian if you haven't any rye; I'm a big fan of MacNaughton's.  If you don't have any Canadian whiskey, you can use a nice bourbon, such as Wild Turkey or Jack Daniel's. 

Readers who spend their lives without a ready supply of any of the above spirits to hand are, frankly, outside the scope of this document.  It's like running out of ice.  Who runs out of ice?  Honestly.

Mixers:
You need a few extras, but nothing that a well-stocked bar would be without, namely, Angostura bitters, club soda if you're making the modern-style version of the drink, and sugar.  And, no, before you ask, you may not substitute mashed-up Cap'n Crunch cereal for the sugar.  You're an adult, for crissakes.  Learn to keep some things in the house.

Oh, some people get fancy with the garnish, but I think a maraschino cherry is the best.  If you have a small pair of tongs or an extra olive fork, you can use it to get the cherries out of the jar without spilling that sticky red cherry syrup all over yourself, or you can use a toothpick.  NO, don't drink the syrup out of the jar, not even if you think no-one is watching. 

Accoutrements:
Again, you just need an old-fashioned glass, and the stuff.

Preparation:
There are a couple of versions, which for the sake of argument I will call the "traditional" version and the "modern" version.  As usual, people will insist on squeaking and beeping about which is the One True Right And Proper Way to make Insert Name Of Drink, to which I reply, "Step over here a minute.  Smack upside the head.  Now go home and tell your Mom what a twat you are."  Make whichever one you like.

Take either a spoonful of sugar, or a sugar cube, and place it at the bottom of the glass.
Zap it a couple of times with the Angostura.  Soak it up pretty good, but don't over-saturate it.  It's easy to overdo bitters.
Add either a bit of club soda (modern-style) or just a bit of water (traditional).  NOT TOO MUCH.  Just enough to get the sugar and bitters to melt down.  The idea here is that you're trying to make just a little shot of syrup.  Some people actually do use sugar syrup; I say, mox nix.  Whichever is easiest for you.
Swirl the syrup mix around until the sugar is completely melted.  Be patient, it might take a minute or two.  I suppose you could use warm tap water if you want.
Add ice, a healthy shot of rye, and swirl it around a bit more.
Garnish and serve.

Assessment:
Tastiness.  It actually, to me at least, evokes the flavor of the heavily-sugared iced tea that is popular in the Southern US, with the added benefit that three or four of them will make you fall down on the kitchen floor and start singing old Smithereens songs at the top of your lungs.  Goes well with Cajun food.  The sweetness means that it's not something I would drink every day, and the little alchemy deal with the sugar and bitters at the beginning of preparation evokes unpleasant memories of high school chem lab, but I can certainly see why this has remained popular for over a hundred years.

[stochasticjack]

It had to happen sooner or later so, the 8DAF present:

Drink #4:
The Bronx Cocktail

Overview:
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  When most of us think of the Bronx, we think of horrible nasty things, such as the Bronx Cheer, the film Fort Apache: The Bronx (well, actually the film itself is pretty kickass; it's just the setting of the movie), and of course, the embodiment of all that is foul and evil in the world, the Bronx Bombers. 

Jonas Bronck's farmland near the Harlem River in the northeastern part of New York City was probably a pretty nice place once, but the last time I rode a train through there ten years ago they'd gotten over it.  It's as if the whole New York Makeover done by Rudy Giuliani never make it north of there.  And this is right and proper, and just so, because, as all people know, New York City is really Manhattan.

Having pissed off everyone in the room, I must say that I was surprised to discover the existence of a Bronx Cocktail, or at least I was surprised that Martial discovered it.

"Says here in Wikipedia that it was one of the top ten cocktails in 1934," he said, "just behind the Martini and the Manhattan."

Well, I'm a big fan of those first two, so off we went to the liquor cart.


Booze Requirements:
I first got the feeling that something was amiss when Martial read out the official IBA recipe.  Two types of vermouth?  Orange juice?  Gin?  Plus, Martial started reading a bunch of stuff out about how only certain types of gin should be used and so forth. 

Hell with that, I say; the only sort of gin that should never be used is cheap gin.  We keep three gins in the HQ as per SOP: Hendrick's; Rangpur; and a rotating review gin, currently a very fine product from the Rogue Distilleries in Oregon.  (They do a lovely rum as well.)  If you can't make a gin drink with one of these it probably doesn't deserve to be made.

You also need both sweet and dry vermouths, which we also keep in stock at all times.  Martinis and Manhattans, don'cherknow.

Mixers:
Orange juice and ice.  That's it.

Accoutrements:
You'll need a drinks shaker, and some sort of measuring device, as this is a fiddly little bit of business.  I've got a shot glass with measurements marked off on the sides, and we should probably get about five more of those.

Preparation:
Now, this might sound weird coming so close on the heels of my explanation of how to make an Old Fashioned, but this drink just seems like a whole lot of bother to make.  There just seems to be an awful lot of fussy measuring and so forth, and it kind of gets on my nerves.

First, put the ice in the cocktail shaker.
Now add:
-six parts gin;
-three parts sweet vermouth;
-two parts dry vermouth; and
-three parts orange juice.
Put in the shaker and whale on it for a bit.
Pour into a cocktail glass and serve.

It seems like fewer steps and processes than the Old Fashioned, but I swear it's a pain.  Maybe it's all the bottles you have to cork and uncork and unscrew and so forth.  Maybe it's the constant eyeballing of everything into the measuring glass.  Bitch bitch bitch.

I think what it really boils down to is that one of my rules is this: I should be able to make a fifth cocktail as well as the first.  I can pretty much make a martini in my sleep.  I know for a fact that I can make several Old Fashioneds in a row.  I can even put together a sticky goo-bomb like a Harvey Wallbanger after having four or five. 

But this, not so much.

Assessment:
Martial and I each had two, and we were both left with such an overwhelming sense of Meh that we stopped after that.  It's not a bad drink, as such, and it doesn't taste bad, although we both agreed that perhaps a garnish of fresh-ground cinnamon over the top might add a little bite to it. 

The drink just doesn't really... do anything.  It just sort of lies there.

I don't know.  Try it for yourself and see.

Of course, it was one of the top ten drinks in 1934, but what the hell did they know?  They had a Depression going on.

[stochasticjack]

Also, for the record, that's Martial's cocktail shaker, not mine.  Although the fact that we only have one is inexcusable.