Monthly Archives: February 2013

I love drinks ressurected from the grave, such as the violet-flavored Crème Yvette or Old Tom Gin. The aperitif called Byrrh (pronounced “beer”) wasn’t dead, exactly, but for years you couldn’t find it in the United States. France stopped exporting it to the U.S. during Prohibition, and for some reason never started again. And so we were left bereft of Byrrh, because as charming as it is to travel to France for a little aperitif shopping, it can get a little impractical.

I had heard of the sweet vermouth-like Byrrh, but I had never tasted it because my aperitif shopping tends to be limited to the northeast side of Chicago. Then one day, there it was! Just standing on a shelf in Binny’s, like nothing had happened. I snapped up a bottle posthaste.

I couldn’t wait to try it, because although at first glance Byrrh appears to resemble many other sweet vermouths, or even Port, it differs in one important respect: It’s spiked with quinine, the anti-malarial compound found in cinchona bark that gives traditional tonic its unique flavor.

I tried it first at room temperature, though it’s traditionally consumed chilled. It had a Porty, richly fruity aroma with something herbal in there as well — a bit of parsley perhaps. I loved the round, luscious mouthfeel which slowly developed into orangey acids and the barest hint of menthol on the finish.

After that taste, there was no question — I needed to see what it would do for a Manhattan. I shook two parts Rowan’s Creek Bourbon, one part Byrrh and a couple dashes of Angostura Bitters with ice, and strained it into a martini glass. It proved to be a balanced but very bright and lively Manhattan. It seemed to end with a deep note from the bitters, but it jumped up again at the last second with a little cedar and mint.

Fun to drink on its own, and fun to mix in a Manhattan — I’d say Byrrh is a winner. And it’s not even that expensive. I picked up a 375 ml bottle at Binny’s for $13. So by God, go out and get some Byrrh!

I’ve never actually written about beer on this blog. It’s not because I don’t drink it, because I do, and it’s not because I have trouble finding unusual beers to try. I live around the corner from Hopleaf, which has some 300 beers on their menu, and just down the street is a wonderful microbrewery called Metropolitan. I don’t write about beer — and I know this sounds like a high-class problem — because it’s refreshing to have a drink that I can imbibe for pure pleasure, without ever having to worry about analyzing its quality or flavor profile.

This brings me to The Westgate Hotel in San Diego (above), the hotel that finally compelled me to break my beer-writing rule. The Westgate is ostensibly a very fancy property, with a lobby decked out to look like an olde time French palace. What a French palace is doing in a converted 1960s office building in downtown San Diego is a question I never did manage to answer satisfactorily.

In a place of such overt luxury, one might expect that ethos to extend into every corner of the operation. And indeed it did, with one glaring exception: the room service menu. Right at the top was this less-than-mouthwatering item:

If someone gave me the task of designing the most boring, insipid, overpriced beer tasting possible, it would turn out pretty much like this. For shame! San Diego is a major microbrewing center! I didn’t have much of a chance to explore that scene, but I did immensely enjoy a Ballast Point Sculpin IPA. Unlike a Bud Light, for example, this beer had some real flavor — it was fruity, bitter and dry, with a grapefruity aroma and aftertaste. Delicious!

So Westgate — listen up. I know guests who stay with you probably don’t care all that much about a sense of place (witness the aforementioned Versailles-like decor), but this Beer Taster is a scandal. Some guests won’t want to venture out of their comfort zone, so keep this flaccid selection on the menu if you must, but for the rest of us, how about taking advantage of the many stellar breweries within a 15-minute drive? This is the beer list of a random bar in Anytown, USA, not the “Specialty Drinks” of an expensive hotel in a major city.

This is my last post about Temecula, I swear on a bottle of Château d’Yquem! But I wouldn’t do justice to this unfamous region without talking about my visit to Doffo Winery.

On the road out of town to Palm Springs, this winery was my last stop in Temecula, California, but certainly not the least. Argentinean Marcelo Doffo founded the winery in 1997, and his family still tends the 15 acres to this day. Indeed, the Doffo Winery has a very hands-on approach — I discovered the lively Mr. Doffo himself pouring wines in the tasting room, which was decorated with part of his motorcycle and scooter collection.

The tasting room was crowded on my Sunday visit, but not with bachelorette parties. A party did enter the room at one point, and Mr. Doffo did not look especially pleased, perhaps because he suspected they were more interested in getting buzzed than really tasting the wine. The bachelorettes must have taken the hint, because they were gone when I turned around a couple of minutes later.

Mr. Doffo is right to expect his patrons to pay at least a little attention to his wines, which are clearly crafted with heart and skill. I enjoyed all the wines I tasted immensely; they had deep fruit that felt immensely satisfying. Here’s a rundown of what I sampled:

2010 Malbec: This unfiltered wine had dark, dusky fruit and a supple mouthfeel, with some tannins and a touch of something herbal at the end.

2010 Grenache: I was surprised by the perfumy aroma of this wine, which tasted very fruity and spicy. It had some of that fun “Temecula raciness” described by winemaker Clark Smith. Mr. Doffo didn’t use his own fruit for this wine, however — his neighbor grew it. When the original buyer fell through, the neighbor offered Mr. Doffo a smokin’ deal, and he bought the grapes. Mr. Doffo noted that he used Syrah skins to “beef the wine up” a bit.

2010 Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve: Composed of 90% Cabernet, this wine is actually a field blend, with the remaining 10% coming from other grape varieties planted in the same vineyard. It had an enticingly jammy aroma, rich fruit and a finish of chocolate and tobacco. Lush and delicious.

2010 Zinfandel Reserve: Very dark in color, with an aroma of overripe plums. This was a big wine, but very smooth and focused as well. But just when you think you’re out of the woods, a pow of spice punches you right in the kisser.

2010 Zinfandel: Mr. Doffo called this wine “The happiest Zinfandel in Temecula,” and while I wouldn’t presume to compare, I will say that it certainly made me happy. It had an exotic, jammy nose and similarly jammy fruit on the palate. Yet there was good focus, and it never became overblown. It started lush and round before expanding into some powerful spiciness.

2008 Syrah Reserve: There again was that jammy aroma, this time mixed with some caramel. Rich fruit tightened into some food-friendly acids and a some tannins; it expanded in the mouth before restraining itself and focusing.

NV Port: A blend of older and younger vintages, this fortified wine had a deep red fruit aroma that sucked me right in. There was that telltale jammy fruit, and a powerful, almost overwhelming cinnamon spiciness. Dusky but very sprightly.

NV Late Harvest Syrah “Los Nietos”: I had great fun tasting with Mr. Doffo, but I’ll always remember this wine, named for his first grandchild who passed away shortly after birth. It smelled of very sweet raspberries, and it had impressively rich, plummy, chocolaty fruit. There was something green in the middle which gave way to a long, luscious finish. Surely excellent with chocolate.

And there you have it! If you go to Temecula, and I hope you do, you can’t go wrong with Doffo. And for that matter, you’ll surely be delighted with Palumbo and Wiens as well. Happy tasting!

Let’s cleanse the palate after that Melvyn’s debacle, shall we? I had the fortune to sip a number of thoroughly delicious cocktails on my recent trip to southern California. Should you ever happen to find yourself in that chunk of the country — or more specifically, San Diego — here are three bars not to miss.

THE PONY ROOM

This bar in the Rancho Valencia resort draws a wealthy crowd, a fact made abundantly clear to me as I watched the valet park my rental Ford Focus among the Maseratis and Bentleys. Nevertheless, it’s a friendly and lively place, and it has a relatively short but intriguing cocktail list including top-shelf spirits and house-made sodas.

I ordered a classic Martinez (above), which many hold up as the ur-martini. For a long time, it was very difficult to make this very old cocktail properly, because finding Old Tom Gin was nearly impossible. But this sweeter gin is back in fashion (at least somewhat), and well-stocked liquor stores now carry this relic from the 18th century.

The Pony Room uses Hayman’s Old Tom Gin, Dolin Sweet Vermouth, Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur (not to be confused with fluorescent Maraschino cherry juice) and Angostura bitters. The result was strong but very smooth, with some bitterness and then sweetness, with a surprising note of citrus. My server said that The Pony Room doesn’t sell many Martinez cocktails, which is a shame, because they’re both historic and delicious.

BURLAP

Just down the road from Rancho Valencia, in a rather unpromising-looking strip mall, is Burlap, a very happening restaurant and bar bursting with Asian exotica. A giant dragon dance costume hangs from the ceiling near the entrance, and an ornately carved wooden screen, perhaps from India, frames the back bar.

Here I tried a Rabbit, one of the dozen cocktails named after Chinese zodiac symbols. The menu describes it as “Pimm’s #1, house-made basil lemonade, pickled globe carrot,” and I have to admit it was the pickled carrot that sold me. Who wouldn’t want to try that?

The drink actually was even more complicated than it sounds, with star anise and basil leaves supplementing the globe carrot garnish. It was wonderfully fragrant, as you might expect with the anise sitting on top, and it tasted marvelously refreshing. Basil, then lemon, then something green and herbaceous, and a touch of something medicinal in the underbelly. The carrots were a deliciously sour and sweet counterpoint.

NOBLE EXPERIMENT

This speakeasy in downtown San Diego was my favorite bar of the trip. It’s a little complicated to get in — you need to make a reservation in advance (ideally, a week in advance), and you can only make that reservation by sending a text message to 619-888-4713. Once your reservation is confirmed, go to a restaurant called The Neighborhood at 777 G Street. Go to the back by the bathrooms, and you’ll see some beer kegs stacked up against the wall. Push on those, and you’re in!

The decor of gilt-frame old-master reproductions and gilded skulls feels rather louche, and the cocktails here are made with extreme care, as in Philadelphia’s Ranstead Room.

Bartender Anthony hand-cracked the ice for my Amber Dream (right), a classic cocktail that I must admit I’d never tried before. It contained Beefeater 24 (in which Beefeater steeps the botanicals for 24 hours, amping up the flavor), Carpano Antica (the sweet vermouth craft bars are going crazy for these days), Yellow Chartreuse (a French herbal liqueur), orange bitters and a strip of lemon zest.

This cocktail took a few minutes to make, and it was worth the wait. It started on a sweet note, but the flavor became more and more bitter. I love the smooth, round texture (achieved with lots of stirring) and the citrusy aroma from the zest. Delicious, complex, and positively delightful.

Also delightful, not incidentally, was the company. I had the pleasure of sitting next to a charming local couple, Ellana and Colin (below), and somehow we ended up chatting about everything from the difficulty of making friends to what it means to follow your dreams. The conversation proved surprisingly honest and open. Was it the drinks? The skulls? Who knows? Anyway, Noble Experiment — go there.