EMBURY COCKTAILS

"The World's End" Cocktail

  

MILD SPOILER ALERTS THROUGHOUT. Jacob Briars of Bacardi (when I texted him about his full title he responded "Global Trade Advocacy Director. Pretentious, moi?") has been cheekily serving blue drinks at cocktail competitions, trainings and special guest appearances around the world for the past several years. In the often solemn and occasionally pompous craft cocktail landscape Jacob's added this bit of silliness as a way to remind folks that cocktails are supposed to be fun, and to take a bit of the piss out of the arch seriousness we all occasionally fall victim to. There's a pivotal scene early on in "The World's End" where a seemingly normal, human character is revealed to be filled with blue liquid. It's a measure of how firm the association between Jacob Briars and blue liquid had become for me that when that rather shocking moment occurs he instantly came to mind as the guy to approach to work on the concept for a drink inspired by the film. That he works with the blue-bottled and tinted Bombay Sapphire was simply kismet. That Sapphire is Edgar Wright's gin call of choice ("mainly because I like to say it" he told me when I interviewed him about the copious drinking in the film for T Style) was icing on the cake.

Jacob and I quickly agreed that a riff on a corpse reviver just made sense, tinted blue with Bols Blue Curaçao, to be added to a pint. (Someday I'll count how many pints are consumed in the pub crawl that drives the plot, but at least for some characters it's around 12.) Here's Jacob's offering:

THE WORLD'S END

1/2 oz Bombay Sapphire Gin

1/2 oz Lillet

1/2 oz Bold Blue Curaçao

1/2 oz Strained lemon juice

Shake together, and fill a pipette or eye dropper with the mixture. Pour a crisp lager of wheat beer into a pint glass. Have a sip, then add the Reviver. Continue drinking, repeat until merry enough to forget any concerns about potential impending apocalypse.

Note: Simon Pegg's character is NOT the one revealed to be filled with blue liquid in the scene mentioned above. This is just the only photo I could get my hands on that showed the blue stuff. Also note: Pegg's kinetic, manic, endearing and surprisingly poignant performance should get him an Oscar nod, although it likely will be overlooked due to the Academy's aversion to awarding comedies and just its general lameness.

POSTSCRIPT: Have now tried the blue stuff a couple of times and when consumed as an accompinement to beer it's rather good--I'd pegged it as a bit of a stunt drink but the blue curaçao works rather nicely with the Lillet and the gin--bit of an eye opener when the party is lagging, too.

 

In droppers, the blue stuff can be smuggled into a cinema where it ought to be consumed starting with the first fight scene in the bathroom. 

Photo: Mark Hedden

A Great Day in Cocktails

For Inside F & B's second annual "Best Drink I Had All Year" article I just wrote up something I had after last years pre-Tales Pig & Punch Volunteer Day, organized by San Francisco's cocktail A Team, the Bon Vivants (Josh Harris & Scott Baird). Above, the assembled cocktail army in front of Ruby H. Lee High School in New Orleans, where we painted an entire floor of the buidling (31 rooms) over the course of a very productive day.

If you want something done, give it to a bartender. The project-driven spirit of the coprs meant efficient teamwork and lots of it.

And lots of painting corners.

The day wasn't all drudgery by any means; Godfather of the Austin cocktail scene Bill Norris chats up a dapper Yorick.

At lunchtime a killer food truck roledl up--above, Milagro's Jaime Salas.

Not everyone was a bartender--Left, Emil Jattne of Brooklyn Gin.

Then it was back to work for another 4 hours, followed by a bus drive back to Bon Vivants Tales' HQ, a sprawling second floor apartment near Frenchmen Street, for debriefing and cocktails. 

Actually, it was more like beer: lots and lots of cold, refreshing beer in cans. But there was plenty of Tequila Ocho in the house..

Host Harris above with a cache of Tequila Ocho minis.

A serious game of dominoes broke out the minute we arrived.

Ample ink on display on that veranda.

Houston Eaves of San Antonio's Esquire Tavern (our prior post on Houston's cocktails here.)

Bon Vivant team member Ruby Wilson made a Mello Ocho for me, the  traditional Volunteer Day cocktail (read more about it at Inside F & B). Tequila Ocho, rocks from an ice tray, Mello Yello, a pinch of sea salt and a lime--stirred by knife, a key part of this traditional volunteer day lo-fi cocktail. Salty, tangy, and so damn refreshing after working hard all day in the intense humidity of New Orleans in late July.

As a photographer sometimes your camera is just drawn to certain people in a group; Ruby's perpetually elegant stance kept drawing my lens to her. It wasn't until I reviewed the photos that I realized that something about her reminded me of Sargent's Madame X.

As the sun finally began to set the cellphones came out and the party slowly broke up as everyone set forth for their evening's adventures. The 85 plus who joined for the day's good work were all on a collective high of doing good. For info on how to pitch in for this year's 4th Annual Pig & Punch Volunteer Day the Tuesday before Tales gets underway (July 16th) contact Josh Harris at [email protected].

Sangritas, Verdita & The Evil Michelada.

Check out a fine assortment of variations on Sangritas and Micheladas at Inside F & B, including our pet passion, the Verdita. F & B Editor Francine Cohen managed to refine a very general, feel-your-way recipe for the mint, cilantro, jalapeno and pineapple riff on the sangrita into the first really coherent proper recipe version--many thanks on that. Naren Young's recipe for the Evil Michelada at Locanda Verde looks wickedly good, and somehow made me think of Kids In The Hall's Simon & Hecubus and their gleeful evil antics; Watch after the jump. (The above photo is actually of Charles Steadman's also-tasty sounding Dragón Rojo which is served at Echo Palm Beach and is mentioned in the same article. We're thinking the Evil Michelada looks very much like it, however.)

EVIL MICHELADA

1/2 oz. Tequila
1/2 oz. Mezcal
1/2 tsp. Chipotle puree
Juice of 1/2 lime

Pour over ice, add beer and stir well
Served in a glass rimmed with smoked paprika/salt mixed together.

Naren Young, Locanda Verde

Photo: Charles Steadman

World Cup Drinking: Mexico Vs. Uruguay

 

Stopped into the fantastic Mexican restaurant Hecho en Dumbo for their showing of the Mexico/Uruguay game on June 22nd, 10:00 a.m EST. Apparently previous games had been completely packed, but even at 10 in the morning on a Tuesday the entire restaurant was filled and much of the bar, and quite a few people were eating and drinking, mostly the $3 Tecates on special, the most affordable deal I've seen on my international tour of New York World Cup. Free Herradura Anejo shots for every home team goal, too. The Mexico fans scored highest of any crowd thus far in the cheering department, and the energy level was super charged and volume high. Fun, also, to watch the game in Spanish.

 

A fan being interviewed for NY1's Spanish language online station, which I'd never realized existed.

Bar Manager Jack preparing a Virgin Michelada Cubana for me. Extremely weak of me to order, but you gotta be careful to not start drinking first thing in the morning every day of this month-long tour of duty. One has to wonder at the scale of the worldwide drop in worker productivity during the World, particularly in time zones where games come on at odd hours. At least in New York you've got time for breakfast before your first drink.

The Michelada mix definitely wanted the salty goodness of beer, but even with the soda substitution the mixture of tomato juice, Jugo de Maggi, Valentine Salsa Picante, Worcestershire and fresh lime juice was both invigorating and calming to the tummy. 

 

I had to leave before the end of the game, fortunately, as it turned out, as there were apparently some long faces after the loss (although Mexico played beautifully). But I'll be back for the high stakes final preliminary bout with intimidating Argentina on Saturday. And this time I'll be drinking. And eating. J.R.

A Cocktail for the Beer Drinker

 

Tabasco not pictured.

This will probably hit anyone above, say, 34 degrees latitude pretty hard, but for me it's time for summer drinks.

I've relocated to Los Angeles - in November, actually - and while the locals still treat the "winter" here as if it requires scarves and hats, the fact remains today was fully sunny and 69 degrees F. Meaning: I want a warm-weather drink.

Now, this is Embury. We've shown you how to muddle cherries into honey with chamomile tea and fresh-squeezed lemon juice; we've shown you how to blend cilantro, mint, jalapeno, and pineapple juice for a shot to follow good anejo tequila - I get that we're all about the effort that goes into a superlative drink.

But sometimes, it's much, much simpler.

As in the case with a Chelada.

Simply put, a Chelada is a Mexican beer with some local spices and citrus. I'm all for exploring the provenance of this drink, except that I want to make one now, and I want it to taste good - regardless of authenticity.

So, going on the above definition, a Chelada is like a Mexican Bloody Mary that isn't a Bloody Maria. No tequila. I've researched many an article that says a chelada should consist of a regional beer mixed with local peppers, tomatoes, salt, and, weirdly, Worcetershire sauce.

Here's my take: Do you have light beer left over from your party last weekend, as I do? Is some of it Corona, or Pacifico? Can you squeeze the juice of two limes into a large glass, add a shot or two of Tabasco, add ice, then beer, and stir it all together?

If the answer to all of these questions was "yes," you're drinking a very basic form of Chelada. A basic, tasty form that transforms cheap or flavorless beer into something divine - in short, you're drinking a beer cocktail.

Enjoy.  J.C.

Friday Night Cocktail: The Verdita

Mint, cilantro, pineapple and jalapeno. And tequila. A perfect first day of Spring drink. The Verdita is one that's almost hard to imagine until you've actually experienced it--our aim in making this video was to encourage people to try it, and, should they dig it, turn their friends on to it. It's an intense revelation the first time you do it, and it does transform a party into something wild. When you make your own batch-and you will-we'd love it if you'd share pictures and stories. E-mail us at [email protected].

Many thanks to Milagro tequila for helping sponsor our first party.
Big ups to Will Foster of Casita Bar in Shoreditch.
Casita on Facebook
Casita on Myspace.

On Drinking: The Hot Melts

Embury Cocktails caught up with scrappy Liverpool rockers The Hot Melts just before their first U.S. show opening for The Courteeners at Mercury Lounge. Later that night they (presumably) got on a plane bound for Austin, where they were to play several shows at South by Southwest. Clearly, endurance is not a problem for these guys who radiate good vibes and rock out with utter sincerity on stage.  They know a thing or two about drinking as well, and were kind enough to share some of their insights into the art of what (and how much) to drink before performing, where to drink in Liverpool, and how best to spend a hungover day (awesome detail: it involves watching "The NeverEnding Story").

The Hot Melts
Korova
J D Wetherspoon

On Drinking: 3 Pint Reverie

On Sunday afternoon I received the photo above in a text message from Justin Nuttall, with the subject line "My view right now". The setting was easily recognizable as his neighborhood spot, pencil factory bar. The text read "This is the light at the end of a very long tunnel...". I found myself opening the message over and over throughout the week, slightly hypnotized by the image. This morning I asked Justin to write something about the photo. His words below.
J.R.

3 PINT REVERIE.

You've seen this guy before, sitting by himself in that bar around the corner, lost in the volume of his thoughts, sipping dreamily on a pint.  From his point of view he watches, wet-lipped and body slack, as the day wheels by - rugged strollers, fixed bikes, tweaked rides, ceaseless pedestrian traffic, and then catches himself murmuring things out loud. He looks to see if anyone noticed (they haven't).  Everything is right. Settled. Even in the expectation of the plodding week ahead of him, his face, for the moment, is still and unburdened. Almost soft.  The quiet conversations from the other drinkers seem to recede into the wood furniture now and feeling almost weightless, his heart leaps for no reason at all.

Time for the second round. 
J.N.