My Favorite Barware

As all three of you know by now, I enjoy making a cocktail now and again. With that being the case, I've tried a lot of gear and developed some preferences. 

Given the upcoming holiday season, I thought I'd share some of my favorites in case you were looking for some gift ideas.

  • Corkscrews come in all shapes and sizes. I have a Rabbit, but mostly I'm partial to the "Waiter's Friend" style.
  • For measuring ingredients, I've decided the old school two-sided jiggers are too much of a pain to use, clean and store. While hanging out at the bar at Oak at Fourteenth in Boulder, I decided to follow their lead and get a stack of these Oxo Mini angled measuring cups. I got a couple of these science lab-style beakers, too, but they don't quite have enough graduation markers to be perfectly effective.
  • Of course, when I'm mixing drinks that are all spirits, I stir it like a gentleman. For that, I use a pint glass (I like to use some old Sailor Jerry glasses I have because they are awesome.), my favorite bar spoon, and a Julep strainer (which I prefer over a Hawthorne strainer). The pint glasses tend to dribble a bit, so someday I might get a nice mixing glass with a pour spout. In the mean time I just got a nice bar mat that hides perfectly under a cutting board in my kitchen.
  • When the beverages have juice, sugar or eggs involved, it's time to put on a show and shake what my momma gave me. I'm partial to Cobbler shakers which have built in strainers. I thought this one from CB2 was my favorite, but the second one I just got seems a little leaky. That said, Cobbler shakers can suffer from stuck lids and are a bit troublesome to clean. I do have a fondness for the simplicity of the Boston shaker and might look into acquiring a nice one soon.
  • I juice my limes and lemons with one of these press-like juicers.
  • I get citrus twists with one of these vegetable peelers, which does a decent job, though my citrus garnishing game could use improvement.
  • I have yet to fall in love with a muddler, so I just have a basic wooden number.
  • I really like stabbing my olives and Luxardo cherries with these picks I just got from Williams-Sonoma, though they are a bit long for my favorite vintage cocktail glasses (featured in my Green Knight post).
  • As for glasses, I love the vintage set we have but I'm on the lookout for a good set of coupes.
  • Update: I forgot to mention the ice cube trays I like a lot. They are silicone and come in one inch and two inch sizes. I also have a couple different spherical molds, but those aren't really worth the trouble.

As you can tell, my mixology hobby definitely feeds into my predilection for collecting tools and gear. I just like to say it keeps me off the streets.

Oh, if you need any help using the items listed above, I suggest reading this book first and then maybe this one.

Cocktail: The Green Knight

This one was a surprise.

I had some fresh Thai basil from the garden and thought I'd try to come up with a nice, herbal drink to use it. I thought I'd use Crème de Violette just for the purple color (although the flavor is also great, especially with gin), but then at the last moment I added some sweet vermouth. That addition shockingly changed the color to a rich green.

It doesn't hurt that the drink tastes pretty fantastic, either.

Ingredients:

Directions:

  1. Muddle the basil gently in a mixing glass. (I do this by placing a few ice cubes over the leaves, covering the glass with my hand and shaking the glass up and down a bit.)
  2. Add the other ingredients and stir until well chilled.
  3. Strain into a coupe or martini glass and garnish with a fresh basil leaf.

Pardon the Dust

Since Joyent decided to end-of-life my "lifetime hosting", I have gone completely bonkers and switched my site to Squarespace 6. (Yes, I fell for the Dan & Merlin sales pitch.)

Somewhere in the course of importing my old content this got confused and old posts ended up living at /oldstuff/oldstuff/numbers/and/things but the blog index page links to just /oldstuff/numbers/and/things (which is actually the correct format).

I'm working my way through fixing them, but it's going to take me a while.

Active Curation

On Wednesday, I announced on Facebook that I was considering closing my account. It's not like I expected this to shake anybody's world. I just thought I'd open things up for comment to see if there were any compelling relationships in there that I had forgotten to appreciate and that couldn't be continued in a more meaningful way via other, more active, media such as email or even direct contact. Sure I like seeing everyone's pictures and posting my own, but does any of it actually matter. I've come to the opinion that - in MY life - it doesn't, really.

A conversation I had Thursday night with my lovely wife didn't change my attitude much. In fact, it probably reenforced it.

If you feel like reading someone a bit more articulate than myself pondering similar things, I'll point you to my "internet friend" Andre Torrez:

  • In June, he posted I Give Up, which is directly related to this.
  • Just today, he put up I Am Not Busy which is different but related musings about not telling people you're busy when what you really mean is you just aren't interested enough to do whatever it is they are suggesting you do.

Basically, it comes down to the idea of curating (a word that has pretty much been destroyed by hipsters with Tumblr blogs) my life a bit more strictly.

Grant Blakeman, who isn't even really an "internet friend" but to whom I've actually spoken in person, first hit me with the phrase "curating your life actively" at TEDxBoulder in 2010. It's something that has stuck with me for a while, even though I've ended up taking an exactly opposite approach in recent times when it comes to things like "social media" inputs.

I think it might be time to loop back and trim the fat a bit.

NOLA Bound

Tomorrow I get to hop on a plane with several coworkers (and even more acquaintances) and head to RubyConf in New Orleans. This is very exciting for me, because although my mother took me there more than a couple times when I was small, I have no memory of having ever been to New Orleans. I'm very happy to be remedying this omission in my Stateside travels.

Best yet: because I am an excellent husband, I'm staying in New Orleans a couple extra days beyond the conference so that The Wife can come out on Saturday to join me for some of those famous "good times".

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Depending on how things go, I might actually report back with details of what we ate and what we drank and what we saw. Or maybe not.

4th of July Status

Things I didn't do this holiday weekend:

  1. Ride my motorcycle
  2. Start building bookcases
  3. Hang out with friends
  4. Go to the Monday CrossFit workout

Things I did do this holiday weekend:

  1. Finished installing the new baseboard
  2. Made lavender simple syrup
  3. Took the wife out for a lovely lunch at Salt
  4. Cleaned up the garage just a tiny bit
  5. Cooked a bunch so we'll have lots of easy leftovers
  6. Went to the Saturday CrossFit workout and still can't walk straight

I call that a win overall.

The Foul-Mouthed Cook's Guide to: Goat Stock

First, realize that goat is fucking delicious, so stop making that stupid face and read on for some guidelines for making some seriously tasty goddamn stock. (Also, don't bother reading this if you don't like cussing, because I feel like cussing. A lot.)

With that out of the way, here's how you get this shit done:

  1. Get a bag of goat bones. (I ordered a half a fucking goat so it came with a package of trimmed bones and shit. That's fucking awesome.)
  2. Roast the shit out of those bones. (Like 400 degrees F or even 450. Flip the cocksuckers every once in a while, too.)
  3. Turn on the broiler for a bit just to really show those bones who's the fucking boss.
  4. Get a big-ass pot on the motherfucking stove.
  5. Throw in some onion chunks, a couple of garlic cloves (bash the shit out of them first), some celery, and some bell peppers. Or whatever the fuck you want, I don't fucking care.
  6. Saute that shit on a hot fucking burner. You want to build up a serious goddamn fonde.
  7. Add some motherfucking spices and shit. (Lots of salt, pepper, bay leaves, thyme, herbs de Provence, whatever the fuck.)
  8. Put the fucking bones in the fucking pot(s).
  9. Add a bunch of water to that shit.
  10. Bring it to a goddamned boil. It's gonna look like this -- you might get a fucking hard-on, so be careful.
  11. Turn it the fuck down and put a fucking lid on it.
  12. Leave it the fuck alone for a good long while.
  13. Strain out all the dead shit and try to skim most of the fucking fat off.
  14. Ta-da. You make some stock that'll make your mom want to punch you in the dick.

Booze Recipe: Punchin' Judy

My friend, Dave, gave me a copy of of David Wondrich's fantastic Punch: The Delights (and Dangers) of the Flowing Bowl for my birthday, so I've been looking for an excuse to try making some boozy punch. Luckily for me, I was recently "promoted" to the title of Chief Mixology Officer at work. We also now host a monthly gathering of geeks with drinks known as Ruby on Beer, so I thought I'd sneak something other than beer to the next party. Since I'm not the type to fly blind, I took the opportunity last Friday to make a batch of Fish House Punch for the office, just to try things out.

The results were definitely positive. Some folks were big, big fans, but I thought the flavors needed some rounding out. There were some sharp lemon notes and a big pop of sweet that required some smoothing.

Since the next Ruby on Beer is this Thursday, I felt like I needed some more practice. Today I started into making something when I realized I didn't have any brandy or cognac in the house (I'm generally not a big fan, so no surprise, really.). Rather than make a run out to the packy to pick some up, I figured I'd just make something up.

I broke a few "rules" by using bourbon in my mixture, but it turns out I'm pretty good at making stuff up. ;^)

Punchin' Judy

  • For the oleo saccharum, peel four lemons and muddle the rinds in a cup of small crystal raw sugar.
  • Let the lemon peels sit in the sugar for at least half an hour. The sugar will draw out the oils in the rind.
  • Add the following to the oleo saccharum:
    • 1 cup lemon juice
    • 1/2 cup orange juice
    • 2 oz orange liqueur (Cointreau, Triple Sec, etc.)
    • 2 cups dark spiced rum (I used Kraken)
    • 2 cups bourbon (I went with Jim Beam)
    • 4 cups black tea steeped medium-strong
  • Remove the lemon rinds and let sit in the fridge for at least an hour or two (I failed at this step)
  • Serve with a big brick of ice and lemon wheels floating in it

This punch is delightfully easy to drink. Perhaps also dangerously easy to drink, because it definitely packs a wallop!

Tennis *hearts* Boys

If you think of indie-pop albums as oversexed hipster teenagers, the "Cape Dory" record from the new Denver group Tennis would spend a lot of time making out in the corner with The Love Language's "Libraries". They would also both spend an awful lot of time with the Telekinesis album, because they are free spirits and open-minded like that.

Update: The Tennis record would also be overly familiar with Beach House's "Teen Dream", which is not meant to make her seem slutty in the least... She just likes to hang out with pretty boys.

Cocktail Recipe: The Winter Warmer

2oz pumpkin vanilla infused vodka (diy) 1/2oz Root liquor 1/4oz orange liquor (I used Leopold's) 4 dashes cinnamon-flavored bitters (Fee Brothers whiskey barrel aged is good) 2-3 apple cider ice cubes

Pile it all into a shaker and shake until the cider ice cubes, which are soft, completely disintegrate. Poor into chilled cocktail glass.

mountain.rb

I'm up way too late tonight (considering I woke up at 4:45am today) because I'm totally psyched for the mountain.rb Ruby conference that gets started tomorrow evening in Boulder. It's really exciting to have a conference of this caliber right here on my home turf. I'm sure I'll post more about it later, but if it's your thing, you might want to follow the #mountainrb hashtag on Twitter as well as this Twitter list of attendees, speakers and sponsors I've tried to build.

My various social network feeds are bound to be pretty single-focus for the next few days, so fair warning. ;)

G'night, Bunkie.

Just a few seconds ago, I tweeted: "I love that I have a friend that I genuinely call 'Boo'. " And by "genuinely", I suppose I mean that there's real affection associated with that nickname. (The friend in question is also the only person I routinely call by the nickname "Boo". I might casually throw it around, but the same person hardly ever gets it twice.)

This made me remember something formative from my summers in Destin, FL with my grandparents.

My grandfather (a.k.a. "Bapa") would more often than not refer to me as "Bunkie". He'd use it with probably 99% regularity when he put me to bed, but it would come out at other times too. It made me feel special and loved. I worshiped that man, and he had a fancy name for me - how awesome is that?

I only recently found out that "Bunkie" comes from the military barracks -- the guy with whom you shared your steel and cotton bunk bed was your partner (whether you liked him or not); he was your bunkmate - your bunkie.

Bapa earned the rank of Lt. Colonel in the Air Force (Army Air Corps back in WWII), you see. His military background is stronger than some family trees. He found the nickname honestly, even though I had no idea at the time.

In a strange way, that makes it even more special to me.

The Phone App

I haven't actually liked using telephones since high school, but it's getting a little silly. My iPhone home screen This is me every time I have to call a phone number with my iPhone:

  1. Press the "Home" button
  2. Realize that was unnecessary because the "Phone App" is one of the four apps that shows up regardless of what screen I'm on.
  3. Open the "Phone App"
  4. Take a second to realize which screen I'm looking at (generally "Recents" or something).
  5. Take another second to realize that I need to find the number pad and do so.

From there on, I'm cool, but it's such a clunky interaction that I am 90% sure is my problem, not the iPhone's. Perhaps I should make myself start calling people more often before my telephone muscles atrophy altogether...