Not just for breakfast

Old pal Rykoff brought me rye whiskey for my retirement. One of the things you can do when you are retired is drink rye whiskey for breakfast. And I'm here to tell you, it's good. It seems old Joseph Hooker--he of Civil War General fame--was a Sonoma man. That's California for the geography-challenged, wine country as renowned as the adjacent Napa Valley. Seems General Hooker was fond of whiskey and women, quite the mac daddy of his day, perhaps this explains him getting distracted at Chancellorsville. But that's no matter. It's the whiskey we are talking about. Prohibition Spirits has a 95% rye whiskey called Hooker's House Rye that is made in Kentucky and then aged in Sonoma Zinfandel barrels. The result is spectacular. The bold, spicy quality of the rye is perfectly balanced by the wine flavors. I wouldn't have imagined that mixture myself, so kudos to the lads who figured it out!

On an etymological note, WordMan™ was curious about the assertion that General Hooker is responsible, via his many parties, for the term "hooker" being applied to women-of-the-evening. According to William Brohaugh's English Through the Ages, the term "hooker" for prostitute was in documented use by 1845, when Fighting Joe was only 31 and had yet to serve in Mexico where he made his army reputation. His national renown didn't come until 1863 when he was given command of the Army of the Potomac. The Online Etymology Dictionary agrees that the connection to the General is remote. The venerable Eric Partridge, in his magnificent Origins, makes no mention of it, linking the word to both "huckster" and "hawker" which seem to fit. "Hook" as a verb meaning "to catch" is a very old English word of Germanic ancestry.

Speaking of foreign tongues, I have to give thanks to Andrei, the Rykoff rye-meister in Russian, and haven't a clue. Alas, I like to say, this is why God invented the internet:

Спасибо.

XXX: Two-thirds Full

Lots of people told me to enjoy my final year of teaching as it would "go by fast." With the Monday Veterans Day holiday, Tuesday the 12th of November is the 60th work day on the calendar. That's exactly one-third of my work year of 180 days. Only 120 left! I've been thinking a lot about the speed of time, and I find my anticipation about June 6th, 2014 has caused my days to crawl by. I feel like I look up from my desk at the government-issue utilitarian analog clock on the wall and it keeps saying 10:30 a.m. over and over again. This year is definitely NOT racing by! I'm not complaining, a day should take a day, should it not? A week should feel like a week, right? I've always been a "glass half-full" sort of fellow, and as I look at my calendar I see that two-thirds of the year remains, not that one-third is done. I'm tired all the time, and feel harried and a bit abused on the job, but I always manage to center myself and take a few deep breaths and remind myself "LAST time I have to do THAT." Believe me, that's a huge help. Still, when I finally trudge home I feel like a squeezed-out sponge. My brain is spent, and all I want to do is drink whiskey and pass out on the couch. (My lovely bride bears the brunt--I'm sorry, sweetheart. Zombie Mark will soon be a distant memory.)

Wednesday the 13th is my birthday, number fifty-four. I started this gig when I was a mere lad of twenty-four. I remember those early days really well--it's the stuff in the middle that's all jumbled up. The last few years have been particularly intense, I'm not sure why, and the time has certainly not flown by. It's been a grind, nice and slow, like a glacier. It makes the wait for the big date a little harder, but I don't want to see my days disappear in a blur. Einstein convinced us that time is not absolute, it goes fast or slow depending on the observer. My ninth-graders told me on Friday that their freshman year of high school was "flying by." Isn't that funny? Nine more work days and it will be Thanksgiving Break. I think I can make that.

How Have I Missed This?

There's a blog out there called Beer & Whiskey Brothers. That's right up my alley. Their tag line is "Keep in good spirits and keep good spirits in ya." Love it. They have some cute and funny graphics about craft beer people. People like me. You should check them out. I posted one on my brewing blog, French Street Brewery. My title is a silly question, really, as I just don't spend the time on the inter-tubes necessary to find all the cool stuff. I don't reddit, digg, stumleupon, or any of that. I don't have a smart phone. (I barely use the cell phone I do have). I only facebook a few minutes a day. I'm mostly disconnected. What time I spend blogging, reading the news, keeping up on the Giants, and doing email is more than I want to spend in front of a screen. After all, it's just time away from drinking beer and whiskey.

Cheers!

"It's all about the pow-pow."

My skiing buddy is a total powder snob. He barely wants to have his skis touch a groomed run. He won't go to a resort unless there is a chance of "freshies." Today we hit the road early and got to the parking lot at Mt. Ashland before they opened. We managed to be on the summit and over to "the back side" before it had been touched. I got to experience a true "bluebird" or powder-skiing day in windless, cloudless, sunny conditions.  We and a few others trailing us got to cut the first tracks in some luscious, fluffy "pow-pow." I was so excited on the first run and had so much adrenaline that I hardly remember getting down the hill. But by the second run I had calmed down and realized the skiing was fun and easy. The view south to Mt. Shasta and the Shasta Valley was magnificent, we could see the snow-capped Marble Mountains and Trinity Alps. It was a spectacular day. The trek back to the chairlift area is long and on a mostly-level road, so it is a workout, and being out of shape I tired quickly. But I accomplished a major goal I had set for myself as a skier, which was to be confident enough to leave the "groomers" and head for the backcountry. I took a spill on the last run because I was worn out and missed a turn. But the snow was soft and deep and the faceplant was painless. It's good to be reminded that the mountain is your master and not your mistress.

I'm celebrating my great morning (we were in the bar and eating lunch at exactly noon) with a little George Dickel No. 12 Tennessee Whisky. Good stuff! (Note that they use the Scotch/Canadian spelling rather than the Irish/American "whiskey.")

Winter warmer

I saw the moon bathed in a warm, orange-red light late Monday night while it was eclipsed by the earth. The day had been gray and overcast, but the skies cleared after the sun went down. If you were standing on the moon and watching the total eclipse, you'd see the sun blocked by the earth. Sunlight would appear as a reddish ring around the earth--the lucky lunar crew would be seeing all the sunrises and sunsets at once! This refracted light is what colors the moon for earthbound observers. Monday's hue was the color of good bourbon. Good thing I had some good bourbon on hand, because we toasted the Winter Solstice with it the next day. Evan Williams Single Barrel is lovely stuff, and this particular bottle that we cracked on Tuesday was filled on the 14th of June, 2010, from 10-year old barrels. Where were we on the 14th of June? Why, at the ballpark watching the Giants clobber the Orioles! The earth covered the sun and colored the moon. The sun started its long journey back north. The Giants won the World Series. Happy Holidays!

Whiskey Trinity

Irish whiskey is its own thing--neither Scotch nor Bourbon nor Canadian. The third and final whiskey of my three whiskey presents was Tullamore Dew Irish Whiskey. A product of County Offaly in the Irish Midlands, Tullamore Dew is a smooth and mellow whiskey with a rich malt flavor and a dry, lingering finish. The holiday package came with some hefty tumblers bearing the brand name. You can never have enough thick-bottomed whiskey glasses! This whiskey makes a superb nightcap, but I also think it would do very well in an Irish coffee. That drink is a particular favorite of mine, and a specialty of the house. One of these days I'll have to have a taste test with a stable of Hibernian spirits. Because I like Irish coffees so much, I forget that the Malts of Erin are outstanding sippin' whiskies, with their bright, clean flavors and easy drinkability. Tullamore Dew, with its subtle spiciness and muted woody notes, completes the two-bourbons-and-an-Irish whiskey trinity!

Whiskey by the numbers

I received three whiskies from friends for my 50th birthday. Am I easy to buy presents for? Two were bourbons, both the latest versions of cherished favorites. In 2002 I bought a bottle of Evan Williams Single Barrel. It was from barrel no. 144, laid down on 8-27-92, bottled 4-1-02. Now that was a few years back, but I remember it being a tasty treat. Ten years is a long time for a bourbon! The 50th birthday bottle is from barrel no. 313 (dig the thirteen!), put in the wood on 8-24-99 and bottled 4-8-09. It is crisp and spicy, with a clean, bright finish, and dangerously drinkable. Another premium whiskey that never fails to please is the rich and sumptuous Woodford Reserve. I have an empty from some time ago (I can't remember precisely!) from batch no. 22. It is bottle no. 11013 (11-13 is my birthday). Interestingly, it is a one-liter size. You have to love the no. 22, an iconic pair of deuces for Giants fans as both the Clarks--the unrelated Will and Jack--wore 22. The new one is in the standard 750 mL format, but in the same distinctive shape that makes Woodford easy to spot. It is from batch no. 407 and bottle no. 05611. Tune in next week for whiskey number three. I love my friends.

National Bourbon Heritage Month II

How are you celebrating National Bourbon Heritage Month? I'm dipping in to bottle no. 01937 from batch no. 383 of Woodford Reserve Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. Very smooth, very sumptuous drink, highly recommended.

National Bourbon Heritage Month

Yes, that's right, boys and girls, September is National Bourbon Heritage Month. Apparently we can thank Senator Jim Bunning for that Act of Congress. Other than being a fine major league pitcher, the guy comes across as a doofus, but at least he knows a good drink. I think we should all celebrate America this month by drinking more bourbon. Cheers!

Old Bardstown

Our local shop--Liquor Expo--recently started carrying a small batch bourbon line. We had a chance to sample a few earlier in the summer. Kentucky Bourbon Distillers Ltd., of Bardstown, Kentucky, has quite a number of boutique bourbons, one of which is Old Bardstown Estate Bottled 101 proof. Here at TPP we got a hold of a bottle and dug in for a first look. This is a rich and syrupy drink, the way bourbon should be. It has a full, chewy feel to it, with a nice assault on the palate. The finish seems too mild at first, but the flavor creeps back from the lips to the tongue to the throat, coating the mouth with that unique sweet-sour corn mash taste. It sure is good stuff! These complex beverages require lengthy study in order to fully appreciate them. After we do some more homework, we'll take another trip to Grenada for something else new and exciting. Y'all come back, y'hear?

The Danhattan

When Mr B. makes a cocktail, you take notice. His cocktails don't just taste like a bunch of stuff mixed together. They're blended. They're balanced. They're concotions. His take on an American classic, the robust whiskey drink known as The Manhattan, is proof of that. Start with the right ratio: 3-parts-whiskey-to-1-part vermouth. Split the whiskey portion: half Maker's Mark Bourbon, half Wild Turkey Rye. Split the vermouth portion as well. Use a drier, more herbal sweet vermouth for one half. For the other half, The Danhattan requires Cynar. That's right, Cynar, the artichoke liqueur. Never heard of it? Hah! Cretin! All this chilled over ice and strained into a large cocktail glass. Then a spot of Fee Bros. bitters, and to top it off, a brandied loquat as the fruit garnish. You heard me right. A loquat. Half of one, actually, sliced open, stone removed. Soaked in a spiced, sugar-brandy solution. What's that you say? You don't go to those lengths to make a good drink? You don't go around inventing them and naming them either, do you? Didn't think so. You wanna play with the big boys you gotta have some game.

I made my notes AFTER drinking a Danhattan, so I am not repsonsible for any errors or omissions in this recipe. Readers are encouraged to experiment.

"I love this country!"

Our pal had a birthday party this weekend and we brought him a bottle of Rowan's Creek Small Batch Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. His response was the above joyful exclamation. I couldn't disagree--folks out there are getting together and making small batch bourbons. That sort of behavior should be encouraged! Bourbon is America's unique contribution to whiskey, and it remains my personal favorite. Our local liquor shop had another small batch bourbon called Corner Creek Reserve which we picked up for ourselves. It had a remarkably smooth and mellow quality, not as full-flavored as the gift batch. But those were first impressions only, and a good whiskey requires re-visiting. Here's to spiritus kentuckii and the folks who create it!

Whisky round-up

There's at least one place in the USA renowned for its Round-up, and that's Pendleton, Oregon. I've got two connections to Pendleton: 1) I love Pendleton wool shirts, and 2) I drink Pendleton whisky. Despite being from Hood River Distillers, the whisky is of Canadian origin. That's OK, I've come to appreciate the smoothness and sweetness of these multi-grain blends. Pendleton is crisp, spicy, aromatic, and a fine drink, though not a new discovery.

What's new, you ask? How about George Dickel Barrel Select? Wow--this stuff is rich and sumptuous. All the whisky coming from Cascade Hollow is high on my list, but this particular version is almost too good. They call it Tennessee Whisky but use the Scots/Canadian spelling. JD is the most famous of this type of spirit, but a side-by-side tasting with George will wean you off that slop for good.

The last stop on our round-up takes us across the Pacific. Japan produces some outstanding whiskies, the oldest being Yamazaki, first produced in 1924. Suntory has a range of ages and bottlings for Yamazaki, and we found one of their malts in our local liquor warehouse. It was excellent stuff. Sadly, I cannot remember which version we tasted--it was a birthday gift for my pal JCP--and I hope I can find it again. It was probably the 10-year old. Regardless, this is only the second time I've been able to taste a Japanese whisky and I hope to remedy that in the future.

That's it. Stay tuned for more!

More good stuff

Irish whiskey isn't quite the Rodney Dangerfield of whiskeys, that honor probably belongs to Canadian whisky--they certainly don't get enough respect. The once-moribund Hibernian spirit industry is putting out more and more good stuff all the time. Our latest? Tyrconnell. Several years ago we attended a whiskey-fest in San Francisco, an indulgence we greatly enjoyed. A distiller from Cooley, Tyrconnell's mothership, gave us presentation on pot stills and spirit-making. And he led us in a tasting of Cooley's brands: Tyrconnell, Connemara, and Kilbeggan. We had a blast, and we noted that the workshop was barely half-full. The scotch and bourbon sessions were packed, but attendees were lukewarm on Irish. They missed out. (We had a similar experience the following year, enjoying a nearly-empty session hosted by Canadian Club, where we first discovered their superb 12-year old "Classic".) The Tyrconnell, supposedly named for a famous racehorse, is a remarkably smooth drink that manages to have both depth and delicacy. Nothing at all like bourbon, rye, Canadian, or scotch, this Irish whiskey is its own thing. And that's what it's all about, eh?

Raise a glass . . .

. . . to Repeal Day!

Don't worry, this won't be one of those ponderous diatribes about government and morality and freedom and individual behavior and history and etc.

I'm keeping it simple: raise a glass for Repeal Day. The 21st Amendment was ratified on this date 75 years ago.

Cheers!

Rye on the rise

Rye whiskey, not long ago, was a rare thing on a liquor store shelf. Other than Old Overholt--a fine drink--there wasn't much. Both Jim Beam (yellow label) and Wild Turkey (green label) made ryes, but you couldn't always find them. If you went to a bar and ordered a rye cocktail, like a Manhattan, you got Canadian more often than not. Now, I like Canadian whisky, and they use rye in the grain bill up there, but that doesn't cut it! Fortunately we are in the midst of a rye renaissance, and lots of new ryes are showing up. This classic American drink is making a comeback. I'm a big fan of Wild Turkey's standard rye bottling, and it was a no-brainer to pick up the latest "Russell's Reserve" version of rye whiskey. Mr. Russell is the famed master distiller at Wild Turkey, so his name on the label means "the good stuff." This whiskey was smoother than I expected, with a tempered, well-blended feel, and way too quaffable. It had the unique spicy-peppery notes we rye-lovers love, and I think it will hold up well on the rocks and in cocktails. Mostly, I drink my whiskey neat, maybe with a few drops of water. I like the full fire-water experience when I'm having my nightcap. I think this one will be good for many more evening drams!

The Pot Still

The Pot Still in Glasgow is a famous whisky watering hole. If you like single malts, and you are in Scotland, you find your way to Hope Street and The Pot Still. The pub also served the so-called "real ales" so favored by UK craft beer fans (and their American counterparts!). What could be a better place? One evening during our summer sojourn in Scotland, we drank pints and drams with a few local fellows until "last call." The featured sale whisky that night was Jura, a malt from the island of the same name. We never made it to the Inner Hebrides--Mull, Skye, Jura, Islay--all famed whisky regions. But we sure drank plenty of Jura, and our new local liquor shop recently had some on the shelf. Naturally we had to buy some and dive into it. The whisky has a rich malt flavor with a nice, dry bite on the finish. Lovely stuff, and great for memories.

Before their time

Thanksgiving Break. I'm on holiday. Tonight? American Rhythm with Craig Faulkner on Jefferson Public Radio, 89.3 MHz on the FM dial. And a couple of fingers of Woodford Reserve Distiller's Select Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey (batch 284, bottle number 08847). Mmm-mmmm!

Tonight's theme is "Died Too Young." Sam Cooke. Patsy Cline. Buddy Holly. Bobby Darin. Charlie Christian. Too many others--it's a long list. Mr. Faulkner calls his program "The Gourmet Oldies Show" and refers to his source material as "American vernacular music."

Vernacular got WordMan™ fired up. Partridge says it is "of obscure origin," possibly Etruscan, coming to us through the Latin vernaculus, "born in one master's house." In other words, a slave. Bartleby says the word means native tongue, local speech, or common dialect.

The tunes are great. The whiskey's fine. I'm on vacation.

Talk to you in a week.

Getting in the spirit

There was always a bottle present, so that it would seem to him that those fine fierce instants of heart and brain and courage and wiliness and speed were concentrated and distilled into that brown liquor which not women, not boys and children, but only hunters drank, drinking not of the blood they spilled but some condensation of the wild immortal spirit, drinking it moderately, humbly even, not with the pagan's base and baseless hope of acquiring thereby the virtues of cunning and strength and speed but in salute to them.

--William Faulkner (from "The Bear" in Go Down, Moses)

Now that's a sentence. It is preceded by one about three times longer. Patrick O'Brian can uncork sentences that go halfway down the page, but he'll drop in a colon and a couple of semicolons along the way. Faulkner's sentence that precedes this one has a construction I've never seen, a semicolon followed by a dash (;--). The dash sets off a clause which ends with another dash, immediately followed by a clause set off by a dash. That's three dashes, one dash starting and ending one of the clauses. Stuff makes my head spin. (There's even a phrase in parentheses just past the third dash!)

This sentence, of course, is about whiskey. Or "whisky" as Faulkner spells it. Ms. Taylor, my high school English teacher (junior year), tried to get us excited about "The Bear." She was a good teacher, smart and earnest, but Faulkner was just too weird. I'm trying again, Ms. Taylor, I really am. Faulkner is some seriously impenetrable stuff. Thirty-plus years later I'm still struggling with it. I guess if I was a mixed-race Southerner who lived on the land my great-great-grandaddy farmed and I hunted a lot I might get it.

But I get the whisky drinking.

Stochastic

I first became acquainted with this word in my student days at Cal. I read Gregory Bateson's Mind and Nature, and Dr. Bateson spent a bit of time on "stochastic processes," dancing around in evolution, psychology, anthropology, and whatnot, trying to put together some sort of ecological treatise. I used to read stuff like that. Now I read Out of the Gutter.

Bateson threw around a number of big words, but he had the decency to include a glossary. Here's his take on stochastic:

Stochastic. (Greek, stochazein, to shoot with a bow at a target; that is, to scatter events in a partially random manner, some of which achieve a preferred outcome) If a sequence of events combines a random component with a selective process so that only certain outcomes of the random are allowed to endure, that sequence is said to be stochastic.
(p. 252 Bantam New Age 1980 paperback edition)

Wolfram MathWorld says the word is synonymous with "random," and Bartleby agrees with the etymology.

Years later I came across the notion of a "random walk." This was in Burton Malkiel's A Random Walk Down Wall Street. I've read, at most, a handful of things about finance. This engaging book was the most memorable and enjoyable. I have the everyman's ignorance about these things, and like I said, spend my time reading noir. But I love words, and when I consulted my trusty Cartoon Guide to Statistics on the subject of "random walks," they had this to say:

Random walks begin with a coin flip. Suppose you move ahead one step for a head and back one step for a tail. Repeated flips produce a stochastic process called a random walk.
(Larry Gonick, empahsis mine)

There's that pesky Greek again! WordMan™ would love "stochastic." He'd whip it out in all sorts of verbal crises in his globe-trekking exploits. What could be more stochastic than world travel? And think of the other opportunities--dazzling my baseball readers with erudite posts on the stochastic nature of our beloved pastime! Screw sabermetrics. Stochasto-ball is here.

This post does have a point. It isn't often that you get "stochastic" in an interview, much less twice. But my brother-in-law, Bart Rothwell, is an awfully bright fellow, and knows all sorts of things about science, statistics, and finance. If anyone has the the intellectual street cred to toss it around, it's him. So I was reading about Bart's latest endeavor (way to go, Bart!), and there was "stochastic." Words are like a bottle of good whiskey--you get to uncork that bottle again and pour out another dram. Each time you get to experience another aspect of their complexity and richness. Damn! I'm thirsty!