For those of you under a certain age, the two or three martini lunch was possible because the size of the cocktail glass was for a traditional martini: 1 ounce gin + 1 ounce dry vermouth + a dash of orange bitters + a twist of lemon or an olive. I saw pallets and pallets of saffron, an ingredient so key to Fernet-Branca that the company reportedly controls 75 percent of the worldâs saffron market. Highly recommen An enjoyable, though insubstantial, book on spirits. With an eye for adventure, Wilson seeks out visceral experiences at the source of production—visiting fields of spiky agave in Jalisco, entering the heavily and reverently-guarded Jägermeister herb room in Wolfenbüttel, and journeying to the French Alps to determine if mustachioed men in berets really handpick blossoms to make elderflower liqueur. This book is more of an autobiographical life story of one man and his journey with spirts.
This book is part travel memoir, part spirit review, part cocktail recipe book. What I want to add is that the author doesn't take himself seriously. Smart, funny, illuminating, and opinionated, this is a book I'll return to often-both when I need a good read, and when I need a good drink. In Europe, when you have your table, you have it for the whole night. He'll have had the experience with other Calvadoses Calvodii? Let's hope there's another round coming soon.
Like a fine drink, at its finish, I found myself thirsty for more. The writing actually made me laugh out loud. Perhaps most importantly, he succeeds in avoiding pretension, which can be offputting to readers not already immersed in the subject. In addition, Boozehound offers more than fifty drink recipes, from three riffs on the Manhattan to cocktail-geek favorites like the Aviation and the Last Word. I'm not a big drinker of spirits, but he r This was really an enjoyable read, far more so that I expected.
These recipes are presented alongside a host of opinionated essays that cherish the rare, uncover the obscure, dethrone the overrated, and unravel the mysteries of taste, trends, and terroir. Here, though, it's a crucial means of moving liquor beyond recipes to the realm of geography and personality. A unique blend of travelogue, spirits history, and recipe collection, Boozehound explores the origins of what we drink and the often surprising reasons behind our choices. He introduces topics at the neophyte level, so the reading is appropriate for any one, but there Wilson's Boozehound is a great introduction to the joy that can be had by drinking well. These recipes are presented alongside a host of opinionated essays that cherish the rare, uncover the obscure, dethrone the overrated, and unravel the mysteries of taste, trends, and terroir. And he likes the sauce? The wit and judgment that mark Mr. By the way, the short answer is no.
I was afraid the author was going to be snobby and pretentious or only try and sell the reader on what he liked or what was prohibitively expensive. Wilson sees the American obsession with flavored vodka as part of the long hangover from Prohibition. But Wilson's real fodder is the fabric of the cocktail revolution. In this volume he shares his globetrotting experiences to various distilleries, where he tastes bitters, piscos, digestifs, appetizers, and mixed drinks. I appreciated the travel narrative aspect for each liquor: Norway for akavit, Netherlands for gin, Italy for vermouth, etc. It's because he really, really likes it.
He's a guy, in other words, that you'd want to have a beer or whiskey, or akvavit. For him the best drinks are trips down memory lane. This book really opened my eyes about how little I know about spirits. The only reason I give it 3 stars instead of 4 is that it's just kind of a narrow topic. I think it'd really benefit from being longer and more expansive.
Promising anecdotes like tasting Castro's rum should've been intensely engaging and historically fascinating, but in this book they feel more like bragging rights. I challenge readers to get through this engaging, story-filled tasting travelogue without buying a bottle of something they've never tried before or haven't consumed in years. While you could also consider this a memoir, Wilson gives enough technical explanations that it doesn't quite feel like this either. Wilson visits the distillery of Hans Reisetbauer, the Austrian artisanal maker of some of the ï¬nest eau-de-vie in the worldâhe uses a fruit ratio of twenty-ï¬ve pounds of pears or apples to make one liter of eau-de-vie p. No more worrying about customs duties or limits, or large shipping fees from buying from overseas online retailers. As well as an interesting cultural history of what I would argue is one of America's great additions to world culinary efforts: the classic cocktails dating from especially the roaring 20s on. Stacks of chincona bark, pallets of bitter orange, vats of aloe and chamomile, andâto get a little biblicalâmyrrh.
Specifically rare, local spirits from all around the world. My partner did the same a week later, so I know it's not just me. Makes you want to go out and spend too much money on high end, obscu Starts out strong, gets a bit weaker as it goes along. For example, the experience of trying genuine sloe gin was a revelation! For me it was Tuaca--a vanilla and brandy mixture that tastes like the butterscotch candies that I loved as a kid. And I'm also drawn to the wilder, untamed parts of the New World: the agave bite of real tequila; the earthy, rustic edge to Brazilian cachaca; the strange, dry conundrum of Peruvian pisco. Wilson has never been one for 100-point scales and tasting notes. You could also read this as a primer for a variety of base spirits.