I'm in Madison, WI this weekend for a convention, and a friend of mine from Illinois, Kelly Swails, also came out, so I prevailed upon her to do me a huge favor... bring me a bottle the Distiller's Gin No. 6 from North Shore Distillery, as well as a bottle of their Sirène Absinthe. For the time being, I'm going to let the No. 6 lie, because I've got a whole writeup coming for gins--almost a treatise, given the number of gins I'm going to be tasting.
This weekend has been all about the Absinthe. (For a lovely, and quite thorough, discourse on Absinthe, try this piece from Wikipedia.) At $65 a bottle, you want to get something worth having, and this certainly fit the bill. After sharing it around a bit on Friday evening, where it was a huge hit, I got an invite to a private party that was happening on Saturday night--time and place to be disclosed later on--for a three-way Absinthe tasting and comparison. Dutifully I filled up a flask with North Shore's offering and waited for the call.
At the tasting, we lined the Sirène up against Lucid, a newly popular (and heavily marketed) Absinthe, and Kübler, a Swiss offering. All three were very different, and it was really nice to have them lined up against each other, one-two-three.
Absinthe is primarily flavored by wormwood, anise, and fennel. Beyond that, there are a host of other herbs that can be used to inform the flavor, but really, those three are such powerful tastes that they dominate the drink. Traditionally, it is prepared by pouring the Absinthe into the bottom of a reservoir glass and placing a special, slotted spoon across the top of the glass. A sugar cube is then placed atop the spoon, and ice cold water is dripped onto the cube until it has completely disolved and dripped down into the drink. Certain elements of the drink--namely, the anise and fennel listed above--will remain in solution in the high proof alcohol, but precipitate out in the watered version, yeilding a milky-white opacity that differs beautifully from the sage green tranluscence of the pure alcohol.
First, I tried the Sirène. This started with a rich burst of anise flavor, followed by a an earthier fennel, and then a small host of subsequent, bright herbal notes. The description I gave at the time was that there was a strong anise presence that faded, followed by six or seven herbs in a tight group. Another taster suggested cilantro, and while I know why he mentioned it, in that it is a distinctive taste, even in the midst of the cacophony that is most salsa, I didn't quite get cilantro out of it. More like hyssop and juniper. The Sirène was lovely and truly complex.
The second was the Lucid. It was very mild, reasonably flat, with only one note, anise, and a soft, buttery sugar taste. Given the expense of these bottles, I would not spend the money on Lucid for as boring a flavor as it was. Even if it only cost half as much as I paid for the Sirène, I still wouldn't buy the Lucid. Try it at a bar somewhere, but don't expect much more complexity than, say, Sambuca. Better yet, just buy yourself the Sambuca--it tastes better.
The third was the Kübler, and it was on a par with the Sirène for depth and complexity, though it had a very different focus. Here, the anise was much more muted, and the fennel was the clean, clear note to start it off, followed by a bit of the star anise as well. There were other herbs in there as well, though not as many as in the Sirène (maybe two or three distinct notes), but in truth, the fennel was such a broad, open flavor that the Kübler easily held its own.
Either the Kübler or the Sirène are well worth buying. With that much fennel, the Kübler would make a fantastic glaze for ham, and I'd be intrigued to see the Sirène mixed full strenth with white creme de cacao and a dash of soda. And there's always Ernest Hemingway's "Death in the Afternoon". Want more Absinthe mixed drinks? Check out this blog, which lists recipes for 104 Absinthe mixed drinks that showed up in the 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book.
I should also note that Kelly Swails offered her own tasting notes on the Sirène. "It's herby and fun!" she said.
Damn, I wish I could be that accurate and succinct.
Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
A Heapin' Helpin' and a Kick to Boot
Had a lovely dish this weekend while visiting friends, and I just had to relay it here. We had a nice meal: homemade pizzas, stuffed artichoke hearts, wine, cheese--a very enjoyable spread. But the really delight was the homemade dessert.
Out come these dishes with two small scoops of green ice cream, with a dollop of whipped cream and a bit of lime zested over the top. Attractive to the eye, because the green was more of a spinach and cream color than the classic, food-coloring-lime green. So I'm not sure what to expect, and our hostess isn't dropping any hints. I took a bite, and was well rewarded. Then rewarded again.
She'd made an avocado jalapeno ice cream. The flavor of creamy green avocado, with all of its soft fatty oils gave my tongue the "oo-la-la", and just as I was ready to settle in for a soft, creamy experience, this zesty warmth starts florescing in my tongue and I realize that "ah, that's a bit of pepper, there, isn't it?" What made the whole thing work, I kid you not, was the cool creaminess of the whipped cream on top, and, strangely, the thread of green-ness that ran through the whole dish, from the avocado to the jalapeno to the sour-sweet-zesty lime shavings on top. Just delightful.
How Cool is That?
I swung into my local liquor store, Thomas Liquors, yesterday. We had talked about opening a rather good looking bottle of Milagro tequila (more on that later, I promise!), and I wanted to just say hello. When I walked in the front door, one of the guys who works there points to the whiskies and yells from two aisles away, "Hey, nice reviews!"
And what do my wandering eyes reveal but the fact that they've posted my reviews for the Compass Box whiskies like shelf talkers, with my name under them.
Nothing like feeling your work is appreciated!
Will Travel for Food: Arizoning Out
I'm headed down to Arizona this week for a little R&R, to give the local flavors a try, and to see what all the buzz is about the tequilas in Tucson, which is becoming known for its local, signature liquors. Between that and the food, and I'll be heading into this vacation with a bit of an agenda: to find out what the desert southwest has worth making a special trip!
I'll be looking for a few specifics toward future write-ups: specialty honeys, tequilas, fine dining options, and anything else that looks--and tastes--particularly interesting from the desert!
Raise a glass of uisge-beatha for Ol' Saint Pat!
Actually, he probably would have drunk a uisce beatha, as he was in Ireland, but for the moment, I'm drinking a Scottish offering, so I'll stick with the Scots Gaelic for my transliteration. Whisky, (or the Irish & American form "whiskey"), derives from the words "uisge" (Water) and "beatha" (Life)--rendering "water of life", much like the Latin "Eau de vie".
Whiskymaker John Glaser can certainly raise a glass to life.
I did a tasting this past weekend at my great local wine and spirits shop, Thomas Liquors, on several offerings from Compass Box Whisky, a Scottish Company with an American whiskymaster cum winemaker and former marketing director for Johnnie Walker at the helm, John Glaser. They've won a flotilla of awards since their launch in 2000, including four of the prestigious "Innovator of the Year" awards from Whisky Magazine in six years--in 2003, 2004, 2006, and 2007.
Pretty good for a company that doesn't even distill whisky.
Instead, they buy whiskies from fifteen or so other distilleries and carefully blend them to create tastes that none of them alone can bring to the table. While, generally, I would rather see what a single distiller can coax out of the mash and barrel, I have to say that there is room in my cupboard for Scotch blends, too.
Which is good, because one of them came home with me.
I tasted all three of Compass Box's "Signature Range" offerings: The Peat Monster (Malt), Oak Cross (Malt), and Asyla (Malt & Grain), all of which come in standard 750 ml size and run $35-$45. (They also have a "Limited Release Range" as well as several other, bespoke selections that were crafted specifically for particular clients, that I haven't yet had an opportunity to taste. Rest assured, you'll hear about it if I do!) I opened each up with a dash of water, though I could see one of these over a single ice cube, too.
The Peat Monster certainly lived up to its title, though I'll be honest and say that I've had peatier scotch. Not smokier, but more acerbically peaty. (Laphroaig comes to mind immediately, for some reason...) This one is a blend of Caol Ila, Ardmore, and Clynelish whiskies, and it bears out their individual notes--smoke from the Caol Ila, peat and body from the Ardmore, and a slight peppery fire on the tongue from the Clynelish. There was a lot of peat in the nose, but the sip was smooth on the tongue, blossoming into full flavor as it hit the back of the throat and a very smoky aftertaste. The initial impression was a pretty near match for Talisker, though with a rounder body underneath and with a more lingering aftertaste. I'd probably buy this for sharing with foodies, though I'd get the Talisker without compunction for a Scotch purist. (The box and label also have a great pen and ink sketch of the Peat Monster that makes you think of nothing more than the old woodcuttgins for "Alice in Wonderland" or this one of the Jabberwock.
Oak Cross, the second offering, is described as "rich, round, elegant" and is aged in a combination of spicy French and soft American oak barrels (hence "Oak Cross"). Firing the inside of the barrels yields a sugar that adds to the alcohol level during aging, and allows the whisky to draw in the individual characteristics of the wood. Oak Cross was very medium on the nose, though on tasting the first word that came to mind was "sultry". Very smooth, with a spice on the tongue and little smoke near the back end. The spice lingered, in part because of the round smoothness of the whole. There was a very quiet aftertaste of vanilla. This, I think is best served at room temperature with just a spoonful of water--the spice would be too muted over ice.
Asyla was very light on the nose, and was the only one of the three that was a malt and grain. It also is aged in just American oak, and both of those things played out quite obviously in the end product. It had a clean, almost watery scent to it, with no smoke or peat at all. The taste, however, was something else. It was remarkably light, clearly a scotch for sipping, with a lovely taste of pears and light, creamy vanilla. I noted that a clove cigarette would make a nice byplay with it, but could also easily overpower the flavors. Angelfood cake would make a nice pairing, or another quiet dessert to make use of the drink's gentle sweet notes. I liked this one enough that it came home with me, which gave me an opportunity to try it over ice. I encourage you not to do this. It destroys the fragile tastes and strengthens the harsher tannins of the oak. Other scotches are available for your ice to dance with. This wants nothing more than a splash of water and a lingering enjoyment.
So if you're going to raise a glass to celebrate your love of all things Celtic, give poor old Paddy a rest this year, and look to the north. Asyla has a dance card with an open slot waiting just for you.
James Beard Would be Proud...
...of Tobie's Restaurant and Bakery in Hinckley, MN. Because their main attraction, besides their bathrooms halfway from Minneapolis/Saint Paul to Duluth, are bakery items that will knock your socks off.
First, let me dispense with one item for any Minnesotans reading--no, I don't think Tobie's has the best cinnamon and caramel rolls in the state. They don't hold a candle to the ones you can get at Key's Cafe (which, much to the chagrin of my waist, I have just discovered can be purchased for baking at home through Simon Delivers).
And I should clarify: Tobie's doesn't make truly artisan-style breads, with crackling crusts and all-natural ingredients. There are a few ingredients way down the list on some loaves that I can't even pronounce. That said, their bakery rocks.
Any born and bred Minnesotan will tell you that no trip up to Duluth or the North Shore is complete without a stop at Tobie's, and I couldn't agree more, though I'd be willing to guess that it's not always for the same reason. Most people stop for the cinnamon and caramel rolls (which are quite good).
My reason is the bread. My reasons are the breads, I should say. These loaves are each reason enough on their own. They usually have about a dozen different types of bread, and most are available to sample throughout the day. They have a very nice cinnamon swirl loaf that's done in a cylinder, so each slice is a round--aesthetically pleasing and tasty to boot. They have several old standbys: Wheat, White, Boule.
But the highlight of my last trip was a Sauerkraut Onion Rye that was itself worth the drive up, had I not been heading somewhere else. Yes, I said sauerkraut, and yes, I liked it-rather a lot. The color is moderately dark, almost to a pumpernickel (the natural color, not the cocoa- or molasses-induced version), and the texture is soft and moist, thanks to the sauerkraut, with a medium crumb and a soft crust. The flavor blends the sugary acidity of onions with cabbage, like a good stew, flavors that only bolstered the complexity of a familiar favorite in an aged rye bread. The first piece, eaten fresh from the bag, should be nothing more than a sampling of how seemingly disparate elements can successfully be combined and delight the palate.
I took it straight home, toasted two slices, and ate them with a light brush of coarse-ground mustard and a thick slice of warmed 6-year cheddar. Simple pleasures can be no greater. I'd do the same in summer, but with salted tomato slices added, and a cold, crisp beer on the side.
***
On a side note, the semi-finalists for the 2008 James Beard Awards have been announced. UPDATED: You can check out the ballots and the current finalists at JamesBeard.org
Pizza with Zest
Last night I was feeling adventurous, so I made myself a new pizza. It was righteous, and I'm making it again. I mixed up a fast dough with chile powder and lemon zest in it (otherwise pretty standard) and set that to rise for 45 minutes, then prepped my toppings: red onion, garlic, feta, balsamic vinegar, and mint leaves.
While the dough was rising, I sliced some red onion rings about a quarter inch thick, halved them, and halved the larger pieces again so they were two to three inches long. I smashed two cloves of garlic and roughly diced that, too. Then I heated extra virgin olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat and threw in the onion and garlic, sprinkled on kosher salt, and lowered the heat, stirring and cooking it until the onions had started to soften, about five minutes. Then I turned off the heat and let them sit to come back to room temp and let the sugars develop.
When the dough was ready, I stretched it and laid it out on my pizza peel, then brushed it with a little more E.V.O.O. I spread the onions and garlic over it evenly, then sprinkled a little feta on, followed by a light, even shower of balsamic vinegar. That went in at 400˚F, which I pumped to 475˚F to ensure firing the first few minutes. Meanwhile, I slightly crushed fresh mint leaves in a mortal & pestle. After about ten minutes, it was almost done, so I pulled it out and evenly spread some mint leaves over it, then threw that back in for another three minutes.
It was spicy without being too hot, and the crust was really tasty. The red onions were sweet and a little salty, and the vinegar had really baked off, leaving only the balsamic spicy flavors behind, which the mint nicely countered. This would also be great with a little ground lamb sautéed in with the onion and garlic, with a spritz of fresh lemon juice.
Zesty Dough
2 c. bread flour (reserve 1/2 c. for kneading)
1 t. kosher salt
1 T. instant yeast
1 T. chile powder
(optional: 1 t. granulated sugar)
1 T. fresh lemon zest
1/2 c. warm water (115-120˚F)
1/4 c. E.V.O.O.
Preheat your oven to 450 an hour before baking to ensure the stone is all the way up to temperature.
Mix 1 1/2 c. flour, salt, yeast, and chile powder in a mixing bowl. Add water, oil, and lemon zest, mixing until it forms a ball and comes away from the sides of the bowl. Turn out onto a floured board, kneading approximately 5 minutes, until it has a good stretch to it. (Please note that the texture will be different from traditional pizza dough, as the acids in the chile powder and lemon zest will affect the development of your gluten bonds.) Place in a oiled bowl and cover for 45 minutes, or until nearly doubled in size. (Again, this will rise more slowly due to the chemical balance. If you use the optional sugar, that will encourage a bit more activity from your yeasties.) Once risen, punch down and spread on a flat surface, using the tips of your fingers to stretch the dough. Add toppings and bake at 450˚F on a preheated stone for about 12-15 minutes.
