Homophobia at Bulleit

WHY I DON'T BUY BULLEIT BOURBON ANYMORE

I was on the Bulleit train from almost the beginning. I love their rye and their bourbon and drank them often, as I'm addicted to Manhattans for half the year, and I don't mind a Boulevardier when I'm feeling saucy. But now I've officially disembarked.

For better or worse, America went with capitalism, and the only way for that to work is for consumers to vote for the world they want with their dollars.

That's why I'll never go to a Hobby Lobby and why I haven't drunk a drop of Bulleit Bourbon for almost six months now. 

The story goes that Tom Bulleit's daughter Hollis Bulleit made the brand the powerhouse it is through dogged ambassadorship but was pushed out when her sexual orientation became public. I guess it shouldn't surprise anyone that a Kentucky-based family's patriarch is a homophobe; homophobia and racism are rampant down south unfortunately. But I don't care that I'm not surprised, and I'm not going to support a brand that I know is anti-gay.

There are other great bourbons at the same price point anyway.

There's a Slate article about how family businesses are more susceptible to such problems. It makes me think of Marxist notions to abolish the family unit. I don't understand how people spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with racist/homophobic family members. If the world is going to be a better place tomorrow, eye-rolling isn't enough; pillory your grandparents if you have to.

Diageo owns Bulleit and Johnnie Walker and countless other brands. As a consumer, it's hard to pillory Diageo. Remember when Dove was running ads about all women being beautiful while Axe was running ads about all women being sex toys? Unilever owns both brands and didn't care how anyone felt about that if you kept buying their products. That's just how branding works and why Diageo is so powerful (and also dangerous).

For now I'm drinking Buffalo Trace and Gentleman Jack, owned by Sazerac and Brown-Forman, respectively, both of whom have probably had similar issues in their histories. . . but what else am I supposed to do?

---

When I was living in Virginia, my ex-in-laws were horribly racist, sexist, and homophobic. The father of the family would proudly declare himself one from time to time. When his daughter was dating a black dude Big Daddy announced his intention to "tie him to the back of his truck and drive down a dirt road." When his daughter pointed out that her father had expected her brother to marry a Chinese girl, he proclaimed "I'm a racist and a sexist."

When you talk like that you deserve to lose your brand—you're a nazi. Nazi's, contrary to Trump's view, are the enemy because they threaten peace and hinder progress toward equality.

My ex-wife often sided with her parents. That drove a rift in our relationship. It was the thing we fought about the most, and it eventually tore apart our marriage. I thought I had to tolerate it until we had the chance to move far away from her ancestral home. But when that became a real possibility, it became clear she would never be out from under their influence.

And I'll never take that train again.

What Kind of Scotch Should I Get My High Roller

The MACALLAN M at Whiskey Down
Guest Blog by Kanna Smith

Eager to be a part of something new and learn about a spirit that I didn’t even like before, I started working at the brand new Whiskey Down in the middle of the MGM Grand Casino in Las Vegas. I was frustratingly scheduled 1AM-9AM, the hours when sobriety is rare, manners and inhibitions rarer, and small-town women realize the enormous responsibility of high heels.

If there were guests, they were too drunk to drink, or too rude to serve. I had an odd amount of power as a cocktail server: if I didn’t like you, you didn’t drink. You could stumble into any other bar you wanted to in MGM, but I'd have already given my friends there a heads up. Sorry bud, you’re done drinking for the night.

Opening night at Whiskey Down

I tried to exercise caution. I would make the call only when I was certain that the douchebag I was kicking out was just that, a simple drunk douchebag. . . because money talks in Vegas, more so than anywhere else. It screams at you from every machine, every table, every hooker’s eyes as they follow their unsuspecting marks to the bar. And that's what screamed at us when one of the youngest millionaires in the world requested we carry Macallan M at Whiskey Down.

My ears rang when he came in. He was polite, liked whiskey, tipped well, and was a big gambler. There was nothing more I wanted in a guest. He was drunk this evening, more than I had ever seen him.

“Whisky makes me frisky.”
-Some drunk guy probably

“I’d like an M. neat please,” he slurred, eyelids dropping.

I smelled a delicious opportunity in the alcohol on his breath. As I delivered the M, I mentioned my love of whisky and my curiosity surrounding the single malt.

“You’ve never had it?” He asked thickly. I could hear the concern in his voice. I nearly had him.

I blinked coyly, “I can’t afford it." That sealed it. He instructed me to add another to his tab, so I could enjoy it after work.

What followed was the longest shift of my life. I couldn’t wait to try this $730-per-1.5-ounce Scotch! 9AM finally came, and after I tasted the whisky, I nearly did too. I carefully brought the glass to my lips and slowly let the liquid gold touch my tongue. The warm scent of dried apricot melted delicately into flavors of vanilla with a tart plum finish. The first swallow numbed my entire mouth; a sensation I’ve not experienced since.

And though I’ve had the Macallan M once more since that fateful night with my high roller, you know what they say… You never forget your first.

The MACALLAN story »

Flaming Margarita

Working at abar means you get to try out some cool things you find on the internet. I found a flaming margarita on the web, and I just had to try it. Of course, legend has it that flaming drinks are against the law in Clark County (Las Vegas), so I can't serve these, but they're still pretty cool. 

I made a normal Cadillac and peeled the rind of a lemon and lime and poured 151 Cruzan Rum in there and lit it on fire. Don't put a straw in there, because you'll melt it!

This is something like 1.75 Azunia Reposado, .75 Triple Sec, fresh sweet & sour, and .5 - .75 Grand Marnier. I can't actually remember the exact measurements, but this isn't really a post about cadillac margaritas. It's about lighting shit on fire!

Also, I think it's ridiculous we aren't allowed to serve flaming drinks in Las Vegas. Plus, I keep looking for the law online and can't seem to find it. I don't actually believe it's illegal.

Dunk the fruit before you sip, and the rum gives the margarita a nice float of woody sweetness and fire. Not just something for the eyes, it really gives the drink a little something extra that I like.

I guess I could have used a high-gravity tequila, but I thought the rum would be a nice touch especially with the Grand Marnier float already in there. They mixed nicely, and I highly recommend this version for quiet nights with friends, far away from the long arm of the law.

Negroni Variations for Negroni Week

My bars, the Lobby Bar at MGM Grand and Rouge Lounge are participating in Negroni Week (6.1.15-6.7.15). I'm excited about it. Here's what we're offering in addition to the tried-and-true, traditional bitter aperitif. 

Negroni Variations for Negroni Week:

Boulevardier

• Equal parts Rye, Campari, Sweet Vermouth

Cherry Negroni

• Equal parts Gin, Campari, Luxardo Maraschino

Negroni Sbagliato

• Equal parts Prosecco, Campari, Sweet Vermouth

Americano

• 1 oz Gin, 1 oz Campari, a splash of soda 

Dino's Lounge

Some people think my life is fancy. It is pretty glamorous. But I also love 24-hour dive bars if they have character. I don't like going to some random shit hole, mind you, but if there's a place boasting character and history, I'm probably totally into it. Dino's is one of those places.

I rolled in there in a suit at 3;30 in the morning. It's across the street from a collection of seedy strip joints and sleazy motels that give the northern part of the Boulevard its reputation. Dino's parking lot is the kind of place where you shouldn't be surprised to find me dead one day.

Inside is everything you want out of a place claiming to be "THE LAST NEIGHBORHOOD BAR IN LAS VEGAS." From the spotty neon to the light-bulb-eyed taxidermy to the signs promising events, to the ceiling tiles painted by local artists, there's plenty for your eyes to drink. The only people in the bar were a couple who'd just moved here from Wyoming or something. They wanted to know how to get casino jobs. I told them to stay drug free.

The bartender told me his name was Ryder. I said bartender's choice, and he said Jame-o. This town's relationship with Jameson is zombie-like. I ended up doing some Jame-o shots with Ryder between Dry Manhattans. Turned out Ryder used to live with one of my cocktail servers. He's perfect at the job. He cares about his room and his customers and seems to know everyone in town. I don't know why he's on Grave, but I'm glad he is because at 5 AM, having a bartender like him is a good thing.

A lady comes in wearing a sexed up costume. She works at one of the sexy-waitress-PBR-slinging-rock-n-roll bars. She and Ryder declare their undying affection for one another.Everyone's happy to be alive in a world where the sun is a dying star. In a good bar, it's always 10 PM. At Dino's who gives a shit? It's dark and the world outside is a shambles.

Cops come in and ask for a guy. He's not in here; it's just Ryder and me who have dicks now. We all give each other looks because the cops being in the parking lot means we're staying for a couple more rounds. Ryder knows how to talk to them, and they're nice to him. They say there's a report of a girl getting dragged unwillingly into a car in the parking lot.The name they want came off a license plate check. The girls says she saw the car when she came in, but it's gone now.

I end up leaving at dawnish promising to return. I probably will soon. I like this place. This is my neighborhood.

Atomic Cocktails

I was really excited about this one. One of the bartenders at Herbs & Rye suggested it as an after-hours spot (they're open until 4), and I love Herbs & Rye, so why wouldn't I love this suggestion?

I went to their website and read about how they found an old safe and how they totally retrofitted everything and how people used to watch the atomic testing from the roof. I was amped.

I walked from the top of Fremont and when I got past El Cortez, there was a fleeting moment when I thought maybe I'm getting too old to just be walking into bad parts of town, and I chuckled to myself. This isn't really the bad part of town, but it is very close, and I've seen worse. It does get darker quickly once you get past the Container Park, though. If I were smaller or a woman, I wouldn't want to walk it.

Once in the door I took in the atmosphere, which is a retro, low-light, very Vegas feel... still in love. I recognize the very bartender who recommended me come here sitting at the far end. I recognize a tourist I'd met the night before. I say hi to both. I sit down. A guy with a beard asks me what I want. Then everything kind of started sucking. I got into conversations with a couple people at the bar about cars, and that was cool, and there was a lady bartender there who seemed to be on her shit, but this bearded guy was far too douchey for the vibe at Atomic Cocktails. Dude rubbed me the wrong way.

I'm not the biggest stickler, especially in Vegas, especially after midnight. But this was my day off, so it was probably only around 7 or 8, and this place came pretty highly recommended. So, to have a douchey bartender is just unacceptable and puts a damper on what was otherwise a good beverage adventure. Plus, his cocktails sucked. I can drink a shitty cocktail from a friendly bartender or a great one from a dick hole, but when you're a prick serving me crappy cocktails, I'd rather just go to a local beer bar and save my money.

I'll probably go back some day and try not to sit in this guy's section because I really liked the feel of the room, but not for a bit. My days off are too few to be sold garbage drinks by a guy whose beard is his most interesting attribute.

The tourist and I went to Le Thai and Downtown Cocktail Room.

The Whiskey Down

The Whiskey Down is one of my favorite places at the MGM Grand. Before I worked there, I enjoyed having a drink at this lounge, and I adored the atmosphere, which is borderline steam-punk meets speakeasy.

Late at night, I help manage the Whiskey Down. The bartenders at night are super sassy/nice. The cocktail waitresses are funny. The atmosphere is awesome. The lighting is mercifully dim.

There are Black Jack tables in there. There are overstuffed couches and low tables. It's the kind of place that invites you to stay for a spell. It's right in the middle of one of the largest casino floors in America, but it feels intimate and private. Edison bulbs help the old-world quaintness, and there's a delightfully curated collection of old bottles and photos on the walls.

There's also whiskey.

If you're in Vegas, come visit. You'll like it.

The Dry Manhattan

I love a Dry Manhattan, especially this time of year. A long time ago, I read somewhere it was Frank Sinatra's favorite drink, and Jack Daniels was his favorite whiskey (he was buried with a bottle of it). So, I decided to give it a try, fell in love, and now I always drink it with Jack. And I drink it in a rocks glass because it seems like that's how Frankie would take it, too.

How I make a Dry Manhattan at home:

1. If I have a jigger, I fill it up heavy and let a bit more slosh over into the glass. If I don't have a jigger, I just pour heavy, maybe I count to two.
2. I put a dollop of dry vermouth in it (about the same amount I put in my Martinis)
3. I splash Angostura aromatic bitters in.
4. I drop in a grip of ice.
5. NO GARNISH.

I take it with no fruit because I hate the Maraschino cherries most bars use in America. If it's the real-deal ones that really swank bars sometimes have, I'll go for it, but I hate the candy ones. I usually don't have cherries on-hand at home either.
Sometimes I use a shaker, but it isn't really necessary. The ice drop seems to work fine, and I swirl it around a bit.

This is the only thing I drink with Jack Daniels. I don't have anything against Jack Daniels, but that cardboardy background kind of brings together the bitters and vermouth and lingers a little so that you want to take another slug. Sinatra must have said that at some point.

The Manhattan is the sonnet of the cocktail world. The best bartenders stick to the confines of the form but nonetheless express great creativity with it, like the boundaries 14 lines represent.

There are a ton of variations, including one with Fernet-Branca, one of my favorite things on the planet. But my Dry Manhattan is inspired by Frank Sinatra, and there's nothing fancy about it, and I love it.

Anyway, it's kind of my go-to winter drink, and I'm drinking one right now.

The Velveteen Rabbit on First Friday.

I'd been wanting to check out the Velveteen Rabbit for a bit.


On First Fridays Art Walk in Las Vegas, there are hot air balloon rides, probably a hundred or so booths, and at least as many food trucks. The arts district here is a fantastic place that couldn't help but remind me of all the Fridays I spent wandering Oakland for Art Murmur. There was a disproportionate amount of street art, spray paint stuff, but other than that, it was great. There were artists doing live paintings, fire workers doing their thing, and more live music than you know what to do with. Also, there were a few art cars on display that I'm sure are cast offs from past Burning Man festivals. First Fridays was great. I wish there were some poetry someplace. . . if there was, I didn't see it.

Bar stands were there, too. You could even text a number and a tequila rep would appear and buy you a drink. And there were mobile ATMs everywhere, too. All and all, just a wonderfully organized event.

There are even free shuttles from Fremont Street. So I went to the container park, got on a double-decker bus, and arrived right at the entrance of the walk. When I was done wandering, I came back to where the bus had dropped me off, and I found out it'd be a few minutes before the next shuttle arrived, and what did I see as I spun around looking for a way to fill my time?! The Velveteen Rabbit! I'd been meaning to get in there, and now was the perfect time!

The blue neon sign is a great clue as to what goes on in there. It's the arts district's mixology bar, replete with elegant DIY lighting, jiggers aplenty, a thick, unpolished bar, and knowledgeable barkeeps that keep things interesting. Super friendly and patient service is what I observed.

I started with one of their seasonal cocktails, asking the bartender what his favorite was. When he suggested one with peach schnapps and mescal, I was slightly apprehensive, but the smokiness balanced by the mellow sweetness was a welcome delight. Then I had a Hank-panky. When you order a drink with Fernet-Branca, "the bartender's handshake," it lets your new friend know you're not just some fuck who doesn't know what he's doing. It was perfect. Then I said one of my favorite things to say: Bartender's choice.

Remember the Maine

He made me a Remember the Maine. I had never had one before, and that's what I love about doing things this way. A new adventure in beverage! In fact, READ THIS ABOUT REMEMBER THE MAINE! It was one of this bartender's favorite classic cocktails, and we got into a pretty awesome conversation about what is great about life in the booze world.

Sidecar

My publisher texted me I should order a Sidecar because he was drinking one in Virginia. So I did, and it was transcendent. One of the bartenders said he went through a long spell when all he drank was Sidecars. I don't often go for them, but I was glad I did that night.

They also have a great beer selection. The tap markers are mannequin hands. A guy next to me was having a hard time trying to decide what to have, and I convinced him to get the Brown from Tenaya Creek. I told him not to sample it, but just get a pint and that if he didn't like it, I'd buy him a round. He loved it. Then he showed me naked pictures of girls he met on Tinder. Girls on Tinder don't send me naked pictures. It cracked me up because what else are you supposed to do in this crazy world where in the span of ten minutes you can have a history lesson taught by a cocktail made in 1933 about a ship exploding in 1898 and then have a guy show you nude photos of a faceless woman on a space age phone after discussing the merit of supporting your local brewery in a city that defies all probability every day?

Red Bull Cocktails

When I was a kid, Red Bull was a new thing. Vodka Red Bull was a good drink at clubs because well-vodka was often bottom-barrel stuff, and the Red Bull could keep you dancing. Some people gave this drink cute names, but no matter where you went, a Vodka Red Bull was right there. It tasted like gummibears soaked in kerosene, but I drank it happily. 

Soon, Jaeger with Red Bull started showing up. Then, there were a million new energy drinks, and countless flavored vodkas appeared, and then sweet malt liquor like Schmirnoff Ice. Alcapops. So as my tastes matured and developed, the market became more geared toward cocktails that tasted like children's treats. And people born just a couple years behind me are maybe a little stunted.

Then came the craft cocktail craze. I love it. I've been to a few of the best cocktail bars in the world, and I know a few celebrity mixologists, and I am enamored of this world of booze we live in today. It came along just in time for me. And in a small way, I've been a part of it. 

So I was googling around thinking about Red Bull because in Las Vegas, the slim cans are ubiquitous. I can often smell it spilled in the streets, and their logo emblazons everything from menus to billboards. Are there any "good" cocktails out there with Red Bull?

I found this: http://mybestcocktails.com/cocktails-with-115-Red-Bull.html

But most of the drinks on that list turn me off. 

If you know of any good ones, please let me know in the comments. 

Tenaya Creek

I went to Tenaya Creek. It's the second oldest brewery in Las Vegas (15 years). They've won a couple medals at GABF, and it's clear why: their beer is pretty delicious. Their taproom had video poker at every stool, and everyone, patrons and service, was really friendly. I ended up getting in conversations with a few people and even a famous doctor who was in town on holiday.

  

Video poker installed at almost every seat, and they have pinball too. I put 50 cents in their Lord of the Rings machine and played for 40 minutes. I dug their wrought iron flight-holding thing that looked like a sculpture.

They've got a few flagships including a fantastic Brown (not too sweet, a little nutty) and a Pale Ale you could write home about if you wanted to make your mom happy--she doesn't hear from you enough! But they also had a bunch of seasonals that were really quite impressive in that there were five of them and they were all kind of epic. The seasonal that stood out for me was the DIPA and their Barley Wine.

 

Someone ordered a Cosmo, and I asked the bartender if they got much call for that sort of thing. She said a lot of people come for the atmosphere even if they aren't beer people, and I can see why: it's a really chill place with friendly locals. Who wouldn't like that?

Poetry and Cocktails

Last night I went to an open mic called the Human Experience. There was some poetry. I read some from the Murdercycle Diaries. The poetry reading was at the Beat, a cafe in downtown Las Vegas on Fremont Street. It's an interesting place filled with artists doing artistic things, and they had beer, some wine that had been open too long, and some spirits. I was surprised no local beer, but they had Magic Hat #9 and Dogfish Head 60 Min., so I had one each.

There was a lot of rapping, and slam, and some singer-songwriters, lovely women with guitars, a saxophone, and a guy who made 8-bit beats with his Gameboy. It was a loud room with loads of energy. I was entirely surprised when I read that the room fell silent, and everyone in it gave me their undivided attention. After I read, people came up to me and shook my hand and kind of gushed about how much they liked my work. I haven't received that kind of enthusiastic praise in a while at a reading. Las Vegas is a good place to be a poet, I think. But that might be premature, so give me time to investigate.

I met some new people at the reading, and one of them was a woman, so she and I went to one of my new favorite bars: Downtown Cocktail Room.

She's a beautiful middle-sized bar with a tricky door, which, even though I'd been there three times previously, I still paused before choosing to push the glass or the metal. They have an inspired list of seasonal cocktails, and I'll get around to trying more of them, but I had Fernet on the brain, so I ordered a drink I'd heard of online, 50/50 Fernet/Campari, which was OK, but they make impeccable Hanky-Panky's there, and I ended up drinking three of those.

My female companion was one of those lovely singer-songwriters, good guitar work, great voice, and a fair conversationalist. She was good company in that way women always are at dark bars late at night after poetry readings.

Here are a couple lists:

3 THINGS TO HELP YOU MAKE YOUR OPEN MIC A SUCCESS:

1. Never allow anyone to say "Let's give it up again for _______" It's a waste of time, annoying, and inconsiderate to your audience and other performers.
2. If someone goes over whatever time you've allotted them, have the courage to cut them off. If you told someone you would give them 3 dollars, and they grabbed 5, you'd be pissed. Time is precious.
3. If a performer isn't there when their name is called, too bad. They're off the roster.

3 THINGS I LOVE ABOUT DCR:

1. Their layout lets you choose to be intimate or open and part of the action.
2. Sophistication is the theme, but they somehow don't seem snobby about it.
3. Dark as fuck.

BLVD Cocktail Company

I went out with a showgirl. The first time we went out, we met at the BLVD Cocktail Company. It was busy and loud, but actually a perfect place. I don't really like the LINQ very much, it reminds me too much of Downtown Disney or the Irvine Spectrum, but this place is worth checking out.

The reason I wanted to go out with this particular showgirl, despite my personal ban on all women who dance for a living, was the way she talked about Boulevardiers (there were tons of other things actually, but this was the thing that caught my attention and really won me over). And what better place to get a Boulevardier than BLVD? We showed up at 12:30 AM. Live music. Packed.

BLVD makes their Boulevardiers with a chocolate bitters that really rounds out the rye in a way that makes it sinfully delicious and smooth. Garnished with a cherry, it's a treat.

My first round was a Dry Manhattan made to perfection and served by a lovely model/cocktail waitress who was very attentive.

At one point, we had an uninvited guest. His name was Phil. I thought he was with my date at first, but it turned out he was just a passing reveler. He drunkenly complimented us, saying I have an awesome shirt and that we look like a great couple. Then he disappeared into the night, leaving a $10 beer on our tab. Our model/cocktail waitress happily deleted it.

I hope to visit this place again soon. 

I went on a second date with the showgirl. It was even better than the first. Then it fell apart. Personal ban: back on.

The Boulevardier

I met a delightful person today who claimed to love bourbon. Favorite bourbon? Bulleit Rye. "How do you like it?" "In a shot glass next to my beer or in a Boulevardier."

I adored this answer partly because it sounded honest and true, and partly because I had not heard of anyone drinking a Boulevardier in ages. It's one of those Negroni bastards you unfortunately don't see around very often, but it's a delicious cocktail and one worth exploring. Also, documented references to this drink predate the Negroni, which I find mildly interesting.

Here's a history of the drink »
Here's a recipe »
Here's a very slightly different recipe »

I have had it in a cocktail glass, but I prefer brown spirits in a rocks/old-fashioned glass for purely aesthetic reasons.

So, this person and I are going to get dressed up in the middle of the night, go to a whiskey bar, and order Boulevardiers. I'll take pictures.

Also, there's some controversy regarding Campari. So here's a link to that if you care about controversy. My personal take is I'd rather eat as few bug butts as possible. I mean, there's an acceptable amount of insect parts in everything we eat, but yeah, I prefer not to jump in and eat them on purpose. I don't see it as a betrayal that a company might change its recipe ever so slightly every hundred or so years either. Times, tastes, and what's acceptable to stick in one's mouth change, people.

Obligatory literary rye reference.

Liquid Nitrogen and Centrifuges

Liquid nitrogen is a toy I'd love to play with. I remember thinking it could freeze a person instantly like Sylvester Stalone and Wesley Snipes in Demolition Man. Now I want to chill glasses with it and make weird caviar things.

Maybe it's my love of science, maybe it's my love of good show, but I really want to have a go with it. What excitement people demonstrate when they see the explosion of gas or get super-cooled strawberries in their mouths and breath cold white smoke out their noses like dragons! And it happens to be useful.

I also want a centrifuge. I want to separate the solids out of juices and carbonate them in bottles. Once at Billy Sunday in Chicago I had a Fernet and Cola in a bottle that was made that way. I don't know if they used a centrifuge, but it was a perfect drink, and I think doing Gin and Tonics that way could be incredible. Also, punches might be interesting to serve in house bottles. ARGH! the possibilities are limitless.

If I get to manage a cocktail bar soon, or if I start my own speak easy up again, I'm going to get a centrifuge at the very least. I'd love to get a freezer cold enough for liquid nitro, but that might have to wait. They're a little expensive.

But the future of mixology is now!

Some of it's so old it's new again. Dave Arnold is also using hot pokers to burn up some hot cocktails the way they did in the olden days at his bar, Booker and Dax. I love this guy and what he's doing.

Here's a link to an article about some of the cooler cocktail bars I like out there »

The Dirty Martini

I've always enjoyed a Dirty Martini. It's one of my all-time favorite drinks. I fill a shaker with ice, pour in gin (usually Tanqueray), dash in just a bit of dry vermouth, and I give it a good dash of olive brine. I swirl the shaker, a compromise I settled on during a shaken-or-stirred discussion long ago. Then, I strain it in the art-deco ornament that is the towering, unwieldy cocktail glass. I throw two olives straight in, so they rest at the bottom.

Why dirty?
First, the saltiness is a reminder that this is an adult activity. This is not a saccharine sticky dessert. This is not a stash of candy to lure the unsuspecting tween. This is a true testament to alcohol and maturity. But that's not all. The olive juice can ruin the drink if you're not careful. A bartender can screw the whole pooch if he or she adds too much or too little. It's a challenge. Plus, you've got to have decent olives. No one wants nasty old stale olives.

But if you're making it yourself at home, what could be easier? Make it to your own taste and enjoy. If you're at a party, everyone will make it differently, which is kind of fun.

And there's something classy about this silver fox. It's one of the oldest cocktails, and all kinds of celebrities have uttered all sorts of wonderful quotes about it. If you like the Dirty Martini, you're in good company.

Here's a good short article I found about it »

Anyway, I've been drinking a lot of them lately.

It might be because I'm currently out of Fernet and the liquor store is sold out for now.

1901

I worked at Club 33 at Disneyland when I was in my more formative years. I think it's where I caught the food and beverage bug, and it's certainly where I got into fine wine and beer and cocktails.

It looks like Disney is at it again with 1901. Only Club 33 members will be able to get in there, which makes it one of those things I'll have to finagle for seeing as how all my connection at Disney have pretty much dried up. It looks like something I just have to experience though. I mean, look at it.

It looks like it's been up and running for a while, so I have to start sneaking in my desire to see it into conversations with corporate types who might have an in.

Here's a link to the Disney blog about it.