Category: Drink

Because some of us just aren’t ready

It was mid-August when I saw my first pumpkin beer in a local beer store.

Dismayed, I experienced my usual round of indignation and disappointment, followed by a little tantrum: “Stop trying to steal summer with your pumpkin spice!”

But OK, I took a deep breath, tried to collect myself, took a long look in the mirror and just generally tried to get over myself.

Yes, true, I have little interest in pumpkin-anything in August, but it was time I faced facts. Clearly, many people are, in fact, in the mood for pumpkin-this and pumpkin-that, because it is everywhere. And breweries and retailers wouldn’t be selling it if people weren’t buying it.

It’s clearly time for me to get over it and accept that pumpkin is here to stay in late summer.

But that doesn’t mean I have to buy it. I still need a little more crispness in the air. Sorry for the big-twist ending.

Here are four entirely random non-pumpkin beers that I’ve enjoyed recently and that I think you will too.

Sapphire Unicorn American Double IPA by Lone Pine Brewing Co. (Portland, Maine)

Hard to deny a beer with a ridiculous name like this and I’m glad I went for it. Actually, my brother-in-law went for it and I’m glad he did. This is surprisingly smooth with an almost creamy consistency — not exactly what you expect in an IPA. In addition to the interesting consistency, this complex brew is just bursting with sweet tropical flavors and aromas, including maybe a little coconut. This is an impressive brew that begs for sip after sip. Even non-IPA lovers will appreciate this brew.

Suborbital New England Pale Ale by Bent Water Brewing Co. (Lynn, Mass.)

This is another brewery that continues to impress me time after time and the Suborbital was the latest example of that. This supremely drinkable and sessionable pale ale combines the haze and citrus burst you expect from a New England IPA in a much lighter package that won’t leave you bogged down — but that also didn’t leave me feeling like flavor was sacrificed. I had more than one of these on a vacation evening on the beach in front of the fire. I see myself drinking this beer all year round.

American Porter by Stoneface Brewing Co. (Newington)

Speaking of beers you can enjoy by the fire, this porter is just plain delicious and extremely drinkable. Yes, it has big robust flavors of roasted chocolate and coffee, but this is smooth and dry. I love this beer any time, but by the fire pit on a cool evening — absolute perfection. And, did I mention it’s just 5.5 percent? You can have more than one.

Mango Wheat by Blue Moon Brewery (Denver)

OK, don’t throw anything at me. I fell out of love with the wheat beer style a long time ago so it was with much trepidation that I took a sip of my wife’s beer, a mango-flavored wheat beer, but wow, what a pleasantly refreshing surprise. The beer is what it is, but to me, on a screaming hot day, the mango flavor is present but not overpowering. This isn’t too sweet. I found it crisp, bright and refreshing with just the right amount of fruitiness. I didn’t see this one coming. After a long afternoon of yard work, I grabbed this one all on my own.

What’s in my fridge?

Santilli American IPA by Night Shift Brewing (Everett, Mass)
It feels like I’ve been drinking this beer forever, but it’s really only been around for six years or so as Night Shift’s flagship IPA. I had more of these than I’d care to admit during a vacation last month. Also, I want to note I was thrilled to see this in 12-ounce cans. I have no problem with the more prevalent 16-ounce cans that tend to dominate shelves these days, but there’s something that just feels right about holding a 12-ouncer. Also, 12-ounce cans seem to fit in beer fridges better. Cheers!

Featured photo: Suborbital New England Pale Ale by Bent Water Brewing is incredibly drinkable. Courtesy photo.

Editor’s note: Sometimes the essence of a drink can be summed up in short story. ‘Tis thus with this week’s cocktail.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, before opening them again and walking to the bar.

Friggin’ Sheila O’Brien

Elizabeth had spent the better part of a week making arrangements to get one evening to herself, to spend a couple of hours alone, drinking a glass of wine and reading. She’d grabbed a book from the middle of the pile on her nightstand. She’d even remembered an umbrella.

And then Sheila had been standing by the door inside the bar.

They’d gone to high school together; Sheila had always been able to smile and cut Elizabeth down with a sentence, to crush her effortlessly. From how easily she’d done it again tonight, it was almost like she’d been practicing.

But, Elizabeth thought as she settled herself at the bar, that was over for the moment. She caught the bartender’s eye. Raven, was that her name?

She started to order a glass of the house white, but Raven was a step ahead of her and deposited an espresso martini in front of her. This is absolutely not what Elizabeth would have remotely considered ordering, but it did look good…

It was dark and deep, and skull-shrinkingly cold. The coffee was rich and a little bitter, but there was a sweetness in the background that rounded it out.

Elizabeth looked up at Raven and started to speak, to thank her for reading her situation so well, but the bartender beat her to the punch.

“You have kind eyes, but I wouldn’t mess with you.” Then she walked away.

This was not what Elizabeth was expecting, but the more she thought about it, and the more of her martini she drank, the more she liked the sound of it.

She almost hoped Sheila was still by the door when she left.

Espresso martini

Ingredients:

2 ounces coffee-infused vodka (see below). Could you make this with regular, run-of-the-mill vodka? Yes, of course, but it wouldn’t contribute to the depth of the overall flavor. Using the infused vodka will deepen the finished drink.

½ ounce Kahlua

½ ounce simple syrup

1 ounce cold-brew coffee concentrate

Combine all ingredients over ice in a mixing glass and stir gently but thoroughly with a bar spoon.

Strain into a chilled martini glass.

If you are drinking this at a bar, make direct eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

There is a lot of reverse nostalgic snobbery associated with an espresso martini. It is often too sweet, or creamy, and it doesn’t tend to get a lot of respect. Made very strong, very black, and only a tiny bit sweet, it is a force to be reckoned with.

Speaking of snobbery — there are a lot of cocktail purists who, given the opportunity, will lecture you at great length about how you should never shake a martini. It “bruises the gin” apparently. It is incredibly galling to admit that they are right. This drink will taste noticeably different if it is made in a cocktail shaker than if it is stirred. It’s got something to do with science. It’s worth the extra minute or so to mix this gently.

Coffee-infused vodka

Ingredients

10 grams whole French-roast coffee beans

6 ounces 80-proof vodka, probably not your best vodka, but not the bottom-shelf stuff, either

Using a mortar and pestle, or cereal bowl and the bottom of a drinking glass, crush the coffee beans. You’re not trying to grind them into a powder, but break them up quite a bit.

Combine the vodka and crushed coffee beans in a small jar. Shake them together, then store somewhere cool and dark for 24 hours, shaking periodically.

Strain and label the coffee vodka.

Featured photo: Espresso martini. Photo by John Fladd.

A look at two lesser-known Italian wine styles

This week we will explore two Italian wines, both from the north of Italy, but decidedly different not only from each other but from other Italian wines.

One is from the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region in the very northeast of Italy, the other from the Piedmont region, the very northwest of Italy. Both regions are established producers of signature wines. The Friuli-Venezia Giulia region is well-known for producing pinot grigio and light-bodied rose wines. The wine we will profile in this column is not made from a grape that is well-established in this region, but instead is made from a French grape, a sauvignon blanc. The Piedmont is well-known for the production of nebbiolo wine, sometimes known as a barolo, but 55 percent of the grapes grown in Asti, a region within Piedmont, are barbera, a well-established, light-bodied red Italian grape.

What happens when you cross a large local vineyard operation owned by a well-known hotelier and restaurateur with a good amount of American capital generated by popular culture? Sun Goddess Friuli Sauvignon Blanc 2019, available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets and originally priced at $21.99 but reduced to $17.99.

Produced by the Fantinel Winery, managed by a third generation of owners of 450 acres, the wine transcends cultures. Spanning three denominations, or growing regions dictated by microclimates and terroir, the Fantinel family has planted several indigenous grapes as well as international varieties such as pinot grigio, sauvignon blanc, merlot and cabernet sauvignon. The terroir of this region is rich in minerals that enhance the structure and complexity of the wines. The region is characterized by cool nights and very warm days. This enables the grapes to develop a significant acidity, which in the glass reveals fragrant aromas that turn to citrus notes for the palate.

The Sun Goddess label comes from Mary J. Blige, American singer and actress. She was introduced to Marco Fantinel, through her love of white wine, to promote the vineyard in America through the Sun Goddess label.

The wine has a straw-yellow color with a slight greenish tinge. To the nose it has notes of tropical fruit, banana and melon. To the tongue it is rich in citric notes, first among them grapefruit, but with strong mineral notes. Its acidity will cut through creamy sauces to fish and poultry.

Our second wine is Tenuta Garetto Barbera D’Asti 2017 (originally priced at $33.99 at New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets and reduced to $16.99). It is made from the hardy, non-fussy staple grape barbera. It is known as the wine of the working people. It is respected less than nebbiolo, its haughty neighbor, and was frequently shunted to less-desirable locations. However, it is now grown in California, where a warm climate has produced some well-balanced wines.

Tenuta Garetto winery is a relatively small winery acquired in 2017 by the Gagliardo family. It is in Agliano Terme, known for not only barbera vineyards but its popular thermal springs. Coming from vines planted between 1937 and 1950, vinification takes place in concrete and wood casks before blending and bottling. Its color is dark red, accompanied by cherry notes that carry through to a light, dry feel to the tongue. This is a wine to go with vegetarian dishes, fish or risotto but lacks the body to accompany red-meat dishes. However, it remains complex and is a “self-promoter” among wines. We had the wine with a cheese souffle (thank you, Julia Child, for the recipe!) with a side of wilted baby spinach. Outstanding!

Try these two lesser-known but distinctive wines, a real departure from “standard fare” and a real treat to your palate!

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

Some IPAs now are borderline crushable

IPAs are king. But they’re also super confusing.

You’ve got American IPAs, New England IPAs, West Coast IPAs, session IPAs, double IPAs, Imperial IPAs, triple IPAs, oat IPAs, East Coast IPAs, Belgian IPAs, British IPAs and so on and so forth. And I didn’t even say anything about double, single or triple dry-hopping. And I definitely didn’t say anything about different hop strains.

It’s just a lot. My head is spinning.

Now, of course, there’s quite a bit of overlap within those categories and styles and every brewer is putting his or her own twist on all of their brews, not just IPAs, so every West Coast IPA is going to be a little different — maybe even a lot different. So I’m not sure it’s really worth trying to break it all down. And I’m not sure I even could.

Across the board, IPAs are incredibly flavorful and frankly exciting brews. They are bursting with hoppy flavor.

But, as I’ve written many times, they can be a bit much. Sometimes you want to have a few beers, and double IPAs that come in with an ABV of more than 8 percent are not conducive to drinking multiple beers. And beyond the alcohol, IPAs can just carry a little extra heft that can bog you down a little bit.

I’ve been pleased to see and taste a “new wave” of IPAs that are what I like to call “tweeners.” They’re not quite session IPAs, which I think can sometimes drink more like hoppy light beers than actual IPAs, but they’re not quite your standard IPA, at least in terms of drinkability. These are IPAs coming in at about 5.5 percent to 6 percent ABV but still offering plenty of hoppy, citrusy, piney goodness, but with a little less heft.

I’m not sure if it’s actually a new wave or just coincidence — or if it’s all in my head — but I’ve had several lately and if it is an actual trend I think it’s a good one.

Here are three IPAs to whet your whistle that fall right into my tweener category.

Glory American IPA by Wachusett Brewing Co. (Westminster, Mass.)

I realize it’s obvious that this brewery has a special place in my heart but I really think it’s with good reason. Glory is incredibly easy to drink but doesn’t sacrifice flavor. You’ll definitely pick up plenty of tropical fruit notes, coupled with bright, pleasing bitterness. Plus, the can design, featuring some red, white and blue action, is a winner.

Angelica Hazy IPA by Lord Hobo Brewing Co. (Woburn, Mass.)

The brewery website says this brew was “designed to be a one-of-a-kind showcase for the magnificent Mosaic hop, bringing forth strong citrus flavors.” It also notes the “color, haze and taste are as if you’re drinking a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice with full mouthfeel.” I’m not sure I’d go that far and I don’t mean that as criticism. This drinks much lighter than that to me, and pleasingly so. There’s definitely plenty of fresh citrus flavor and the color is definitely reminiscent of a glass of OJ — and at 5.5 percent, you can have more than one. ​

Matchplay IPA by Smuttynose Brewing Co. (Hampton)

Formerly named the “Backswing IPA.” I haven’t tried this one but this fits the bill to a tee. I’m not sure if you caught what I just did there. The brewery says this is “soft and refreshing, yet packed with bright and bold hops.” Seems well worth a try to me. Smuttynose also brews a Backcheck IPA that is a little higher in ABV.

What’s in my fridge?

Little Choppy Hoppy Session Ale by Mast Landing Brewing Co. (Westbrook, Maine)
Speaking of sessionable brews, Little Choppy is about as crushable as it gets at 4.3 percent ABV. This has a pleasing and somewhat surprising bitterness, coupled with a nice combination of citrus and pine I think. I liked it more and more as I worked my way through the can. Cheers!

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

Wines that help you dig in to the Mediterranean

The domestication of grapes and the production of wine have their roots in the Eastern Mediterranean and Asia Minor as early as 6000 B.C. Through trade, the agriculture and imbibing of the fruit of these labors spread throughout the Mediterranean to the coasts of modern-day Turkey, Lebanon and ancient Greece. The Greeks, in turn, took their favorite beverage to southern Italy, Sicily, Sardinia and the southern coast of France and Spain as early as the eighth century B.C. with their establishment of trading ports. In this column we will explore a lesser-known white wine from Sardinia and a robust red wine from the Languedoc region of southwest France.

Our first wine, a 2019 La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna, by Sella & Mosca (originally $13.99, reduced to $11.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets), is a wine most associated with Sardinia. Known as rolle in southern France, and grown in several different regions in Italy, it has been cultivated almost exclusively in Sardinia’s Gallura region, on the northern tip of the island. The label of this wine includes the statement, “Denominazione di Origine Controllato, the most strictly regulated denomination in Italy – Vermentino di Gallura.” These grapes thrive in Gallura’s vineyards, buffeted by the strong cold mistral winds that originate in the Atlantic and North Sea, travel across France, then leave the mainland entering the Gulf of Lion in the northern Mediterranean. The name “mistral” comes from the Languedoc dialect of Occitan and means “masterly.”

Vermentino lacks the strong acidity of most Italian wines, and Sardinia’s vermentino runs the spectrum from round and tropical to linear and mineral. The differences depend on where it is grown and the winemaker’s style. Some use steel, although some also age in wood. “Vermentinos from Gallura are structured but elegant, with pronounced mineral, almond and balsamic notes. They also have a hint of saltiness, thanks to the vicinity of the sea,” says Emanuele Ragnedda, of Capichera, a producer in the region. This vermentino has a pale straw color. To the nose it has a very slight tropical pineapple note along with pear and a touch of lemon blossom. To the tongue it is fresh with citrus, with some minerality, ending on a crisp note. This is great aperitif wine or it can be paired with seafood.

Our second wine hails from the Languedoc-Roussillon region in the south of France. This spans the coastal region of France from the border with Spain to Provence. There are around 700,000 acres under vines, making it the single biggest wine-producing region in the world, being responsible for more than a third of France’s total wine production. Languedoc was first planted by the Greeks in the fifth century B.C., and along with Provence is the oldest wine-producing region in France. The region excelled in wine production from the 4th century through the early 19th century. The phylloxera epidemic in the late 19th century severely affected the Languedoc wine industry and the region faced economic difficulties well into the ’70s until outside investment and re-focusing production led to many good new single varietal and classically blended wines.

The 2016 Domaine La Rougeante Corbières (originally $35.99, reduced to $17.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets) is that classic blend of mouvèdre, grenache and syrah. The color is a dense, opaque maroon; the nose is of blackberry and plum with some dried herbal notes. These carry through to the tongue in a full mouth feel with medium leathery tannins, which call for air after opening. A long finish with these rich fruit notes ends in some minerality. This is a wine to be enjoyed now or cellared for three more years and paired with grilled red meat, a rich stew, or a hearty pasta. The local fare of the Corbières region that runs from the Mediterranean coast to the Pyrenees with its Catalan culture includes tomato, garlic, eggplant and artichoke. These are dishes rich in flavor, so the wine needs to be robust and hearty to stand up to the food, and this wine does just that.

These two wines differ markedly from the routine whites and reds consumed on a regular basis. They are worth exploring not only for their uniqueness but to honor their storied past. Take a virtual trip to the ancient Mediterranean with these two wines. Invite them to your next dinner on the patio.

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

I understand that you’ve got a lot going on right now — a pandemic, work headaches, psychotic squirrels terrorizing your birdfeeder, etc. So it’s understandable if you’ve lost track of things and forgotten that it is Yachting Season. We’ve only got so much emotional bandwidth, and some things drop through the cracks.

Fortunately, Esquire has your back. Or at least they did in 1969.

The Esquire Drink Book from that year strikes a very particular tone. Hidden amongst the recipes for Brandy Daiseys, Black Roses and racially-insensitively-named drinks that were probably pretty good but have been ruined for us now are the cryptic instructions for an innocuous-sounding cocktail called the Connecticut Bullfrog:

“This cocktail must never be served on shore but always on a boat, provided that the boat is not over 45 feet long, and the owner is the skipper (no hired hand). The ingredients are awful but the result does have something. Here they are and you must have them on board:

4 parts gin

1 part New England rum

1 part lemon juice

1 part maple syrup

Shake these ingredients together until your arms ache. Then have someone else do the same thing with about 10 times the usual amount of ice.”

— Esquire Drink Book, Frederic A. Birmingham, 1969, E.P. Dutton & Co., p. 216.

Having all these ingredients on hand, and being emotionally and intellectually at sea, I felt the need to field test the Bullfrog. I am the sole owner of my entirely imaginary yacht — which, being imaginary, is infinitely less than 45 feet long.

Not surprisingly, the Bullfrog was problematic from the get-go. I filled the large half of my cocktail shaker with ice — about 11 ounces — and added the seven ounces of liquid ingredients, at which point the smaller half of the shaker would no longer contain all the components.

(This cocktail deserves a poster: “The Connecticut Bullfrog cannot be contained.”)

So, I switched — as you will have to, if you decide to dance with the Bullfrog — to a large, one-quart jar.

I told my digital assistant to start a stopwatch, and started shaking.

The jar got uncomfortably cold very quickly — cold, as in frosty enough to bond my hands to the glass. Once I was able to pry them loose, this was solved by wrapping the jar in a tea towel.

The next problem was an unexpected one. I was pretty sure that my arms would start aching fairly quickly. I am not terribly fit in a general sense, but a regular regimen of martial arts and cocktail shaking have apparently toned me in unexpected ways. I lasted nine minutes. I know this because I asked my digital assistant how long I’d been shaking this jar.

“Over an extended period, possibly;” she told me, “then again, maybe not.” This sounds philosophically important, but was not as useful in a practical sense as I was looking for in the moment.

It took another full minute of shaking to stumble on an acceptably worded command to find out how long this exercise had been going on.

As instructed, I handed the jar off to my teenager in the next room, who lasted two minutes, five seconds before losing interest and handing it back to me.

At this point, a reasonable shaker (in a cocktail sense; I’m reasonably sure a Shaker, as in the 19th-century furniture-making religious community, would not have found themselves in this situation) could be forgiven for thinking that this project’s glitches were more or less over. Unfortunately, physics had other plans.

Air — particularly moist air — expands when it is heated and shrinks when it cools. Home canners use this fact to hermetically seal jars of compote and … stuff. Apparently, the same effect occurs when you shake an icy alcohol solution in a wide-mouthed jar for 11 minutes. It took a rubber jar-gripper and a lot of swearing to open the Bullfrog jar.

Pouring the contents into a tall glass was easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy in contrast.

So, is the Connecticut Bullfrog worth all the effort? Is it actually any good?

Almost disappointingly: yeah, it is. I really wanted to sneer at a cocktail designed to be drunk by investment analysts named Scooter and Bunny, but this is one of the most refreshing drinks I’ve had in a long time. The combination of gin and dark rum — I went with Myers’s — gives an almost whiskey-like background flavor, which plays well with the acid of the lemon juice. There isn’t enough maple syrup to make this too sweet, but enough that there is some body and depth.

I do feel that more experimentation is called for — specifically, subbing out juice and syrup for other, less 1 percent-y ingredients –— and, as a friend observed to me, given the sheer amount of shaking required by this recipe, the drink really ought to be called the Kinetic Bullfrog.

Featured photo: Connecticut Bullfrog. Photo by John Fladd.