The Rusty Nail

drinxProposed by: David

Reviewed by: Jonathan

When Jonathan and I started this enterprise, I’d given little thought to cocktail history we’d learn along the way. Every drink has a quirky, often disputatious, provenance. Some seem stranger than fiction, positively invented, and some, I suspect, are.

David Wondrich, cocktail historian—excuse me, how does one get that job?—says the Rusty Nail was born during the British Industries Fair of 1937 and called a B.I.F, which appeared over 20 years after the commercial introduction of Drambuie, a whiskey and herb liqueur some say originated in the late 18th century. After 1937, the Rusty Nail took on many aliases: D & S, Little Club No. 1, a Mig-21 (during the Vietnam war), and, in Chicago, a Knucklehead.

Other cocktail historians—wait, there’s more than one… and are there room for more?—locate the Rusty Nail in the early 1960s Manhattan 21 Club. In 1963, the chairwoman of Drambuie approved the recipe and, supposedly, the drink became popular with the Rat Pack, which included Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford. The rest of the world, wanting so desperately to be so cool, followed suit. People probably just liked snarling it at bartenders Sinatra-style.

As for the name that stuck, I could find little evidence of its origin, except for one account claiming a bartender in Scotland named it when he rewarded uncouth American patrons with the drink stirred with a rusty nail.

For the record, I cry bullshit on that story—nice to attribute the name to a Scotsman and all, and we know our countrymen can be obnoxious, but the drink is American through and through. I’m more prone to make up a story of my own… which I might… and disseminate… just to see if I can find my own way into cocktail lore.

Before the recipe, one more thing. The recipe comes with many varieties, the Rusty Ale (a shot of Drambuie in beer), the Smoky Nail (with Islay Scotch), the Clavo Ahumado (Mezcal instead of Scotch), the Railroad Spike (with coffee and Scotch and Drambuie and bitters) and The Donald Sutherland (Rye instead of Scotch). There are others, no doubt, but that’s enough to keep you trying variations for a while.

Now here’s the recipe:

Ingredients:

Preparation:

  1. Pour the ingredients into an old-fashioned glass with ice cubes.
  2. Stir well.
  3. Garnish with the lemon twist.

rnailHere’s Jonathan’s Review:

It seems like scotch should be in my taste palette both from its makeup and my own. The mash from which it begins is predominantly malted barley making it essentially distilled beer. There is also the Scottish heritage of our surname and paternal ancestry. Even our maternal line, although tracing from Cape Breton in Nova Scotia, includes our great grandmother’s (nee Agnes McDonald) family tree which goes back to Thomas McDonald. He was from Ireland though so maybe that’s part of why I am always on the fence about this particular spirit. Then again it might not be ingredients or genetics.

The part of this cocktail that has been most intriguing from the first time I had seen the recipe is the Drambuie. Although its base is malted whisky, the addition of honey and herbs adds a sweetness and flavors that can’t help but enhance the taste of scotch in my mind. I tasted the Drambuie on its own, and it in turn needs the scotch to cut that sweetness.

Thanks to their use in other cocktails we have tried, there was a basic scotch blend and a smoky one available as choices for the main spirit. I made versions with both of course. The version using Johnny Walker Black was the more successful mix. The Drambuie enhanced the scotch and there was just enough sweetness without being too much. I got the second version (I was sharing this week with my oldest son) made with Black Grouse. I thought the smoke and sweet would blend well, but it wasn’t nearly as smooth. Should have switched them when my son wasn’t looking.

This cocktail also proved the benefit of edge smoothing that occurs with the dilution of water. Spirits are distilled to a much higher alcohol percentage and then cut or bloomed with water. The slow melting of ice in the Rusty Nail had the same mellowing effect and it improved as that happened.

Jonathan’s take: Looked forward to the Drambuie, but in the end, it and the scotch needed each other.

David’s take: Oddly, scotch may be my least favorite spirit. One recipe told me to cut the sweet Drambuie with the scotch, but, personally, I liked the sweetness best.

Next week (proposed by Jonathan):

I will be spending time this week with a large group of golfers, many of whom are old friends from college. Thinking we might try a cocktail associated with golf, I put the proposal to a vote. Instead we will be returning to those college days and the drink will be the alcohol heavy Long Island Iced Tea. Here’s hoping we remember our age when we do.

The Ultimate Margarita

Proposed by: JonathanMarge

Reviewed by: David

Our Mother asked me a few weeks ago how we come up with the cocktail of the week. Frankly, I think what she was really asking was “Why the heck did you drink that?” in reaction to some odd drink that we had tried. It did make me pause and consider how I arrive at a proposal. Most of the time, the genesis of the idea occurs in those obsessive wee hours of the morning when I am lying awake during a regular episode of insomnia. This week though, it was simply my turn to celebrate a national holiday, just as David had celebrated St. Patrick’s Day. And what better way to celebrate National Chip and Dip Day than the classic margarita.

Here’s a surprise – the margarita has a murky and quirky history. There’s the story of a socialite from Dallas who created the drink as an experiment while hosting friends in Mexico. The problem with that explanation, despite her first name being Margarita, is that there are references to margaritas that pre-date her party in 1948. Next up is the showgirl who was allergic to liquor except tequila, and the bartender who created a drink to sidestep that allergy. Seriously, I am no allergist and don’t play one on TV, but allergic to liquor except tequila? Sounds plausible as a reason to become a shoeless expatriate, but little else.

That leaves a couple of explanations that make a lot more sense. The first is that the margarita is a cocktail version of the traditional tequila shot served with a wedge of lime and a bit of sprinkled salt. It does not take a leap of faith or an allergy to follow the progression from that to a salt lined glass with a lime and tequila mix in it. The second is my personal favorite explanation, though, because of its tie to my sweet yellow lab Daisy. A Daisy cocktail is a sour (alcohol, citrus and sweet element) with the addition of soda or seltzer. In particular, a tequila daisy contains lemon juice, sugar, tequila, orange liqueur and soda water. Add the fact that Daisy is a diminutive nickname for Margaret, and the English translation of margarita in turn can be “daisy flower” and you have a story worth swallowing.

The margarita is a classic for a number of reasons. It is easy to make, particularly if you don’t mind pre-made mixers, and easy to drink. It also invokes a relaxed and tropical atmosphere where worries float away thanks to a popular musical artist who shall go unnamed thanks to rabid trademark enforcement. Finally, there are so many options for variation simply by changing the type of tequila, the orange liqueur and/or the citrus. Don’t forget frozen or on the rocks either.

I chose the Tyler Florence recipe because it incorporates some of those variations while retaining the classic form. The recipe makes four servings by mixing ½ cup fresh lime juice, 1 tablespoon of sugar, ¼ cup orange liqueur, ¼ cup triple sec, 1 cup tequila and the odd addition of ½ can of lager. All ingredients but the lager are combined and blended, the lager is added and mixed, and the drink strained into iced filled glasses that are salt rimmed (or not). Bold, strong and orange forward, this is an exceptional version of the classic.

margaritaHere’s David’s Review:

I occasionally order a margarita out—when the server describes something unlikely or exotic—but I don’t drink many. They’re sweet, slushy, more dessert-y than a before-dinner drink should be, and often scary, lurid hues generally not found in food (or, sometimes, in nature). Plus they delay my beer.

As Friday started my spring break from school, however, a margarita sounded awfully good, and this version was awfully good. I don’t know enough about the cocktail to say how commonly bartenders add a splash of lager, but, to me it made this drink.

Like many cocktails, margaritas balance sour and sweet, but the botanical element seems most powerful and important to me. Depending upon the orange liquor and triple sec you use—I used Pierre Ferrand Dry Curaçao and Luxardo Triplum, respectively—there’s a sort of marmalade taste that adds to the bitter lime citrus and the distinctive herbal aloe scent and cactus flavor of tequila. But the addition of the beer, which I registered largely as hops, take that element a step further. At first, the sugar in the recipe worried me, but now it seems entirely necessary, an effective counterpoint. If I hadn’t splashed the beer in myself (and I love splashing), I might not have guessed what lurked in this concoction, but I certainly noticed it when, on the second go-round, I forgot to splash. Without hops, this margarita seemed undistinguished, pedestrian. With hops, bueno.

I know who Tyler Florence is because he hosts one of my favorite Food Network shows, The Great Food Truck Race (and Tyler’s Ultimate, which I’ve never seen) , but when I saw the name of this drink, “Ultimate Margarita,” I harrumphed. “I’ll decide about that!” I said. I’ve decided my every margarita will follow his recipe from now on.

Jonathan’s take: From the addition of lager to the double dose of orange, this is not the run of the mill happy hour special margarita.

David’s Take: Wonderful. Let spring begin… too bad it snowed this morning.

Next Week (proposed by David):

When I think of a Rusty Nail, I picture a hard-bitten detective in the chilled half-darkness of some dive, bellied up to a bar, and waxing about the gritty streets and the poetic depravity of humanity. The cop is usually a little too far from pension and nursing his or her last ounce of optimism. But I’ve never had a Rusty Nail. The recipe, it turns out, has only two ingredients, and one is pretty sweet. So maybe just the name is hard-bitten. We’ll see next week.

Irish Eyes

Irish EyesProposed by: David

Reviewed by: Jonathan

I learned recently that, among major cities, Chicago ranks third in the percentage of people who identify themselves as “Of Irish descent.” Boston and Philadelphia are ahead of us, but I’d bet my Shillelagh that, the Saturday they dye the Chicago River green, people who report being Irish jumps 1000%.

It’s an odd day to be sober, and I generally stay indoors. Venturing out means weaving between bands of luridly green revelers—shouting, laughing, and pointing at nothing I see. Trolleys roll by with loudly babbling passengers hanging out windows like rag dolls. Every bar seems packed to the walls, and the cabbies just smile all day.

These celebrants aren’t drinking Irish whiskey—at least not until their judgment’s gone—they drink green beer. This cocktail, Irish Eyes, is a little more sophisticated, and I chose it because the recipe I found compared it to a White Russian, a drink I associate with genteel settings. Plus, none of our mixed drinks have used cream or crème de menthe, and I thought we might expand our palette.

The other ingredient, as I mentioned, is Irish Whiskey, a variety of whiskey distilled three times, making it smoother and less smoky than Scotch and very different from Canadian Whiskey, Bourbon, or Rye. Irish whiskey uses a mash of cereal grains rather than specializing and, after falling from being the most popular whiskey in the U.S., it’s made a resurgence of late, so that, since 1990, it’s the fastest growing spirit in the world.

I chose Powers, and here’s why. Bushmills is older (licensed by King James in 1708) and Jamisons more well-known, but I drank Powers when I visited Ireland in 1980 on a college trip, sitting at the same table with Seamus Heaney and Paul Muldoon, two of my Irish poet heroes. I didn’t say much at that meeting, but I heard a lot. Though I can’t say I’ve had much Powers (or any Irish Whiskey) since then, but maybe that’s because I didn’t want to dilute such an important memory.

But enough whiskey-induced nostalgia, here’s the recipe:

Preparation:

  1. Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice cubes.
  2. Shake well.
  3. Strain into an old-fashioned glass.
  4. Garnish with the maraschino cherry.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, sure ’tis like a morn in spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter, you can hear the angels sing
When Irish hearts are happy, all the world seems bright and gay,
And When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, sure, they steal your heart away.

The proposal this week was for a drink to celebrate the St. Patrick’s Day holiday. It is certainly a much bigger celebration in Chicago than it is in Charlotte, but for that matter every city in America pales in comparison to Chicago on that front.

To help make up for that and as part of the celebration, I decided to brine (or corn in this case) a brisket to enjoy with boiled vegetables for a true holiday meal. That is a weeklong preparation that involves weaponizing pickling spices (heating and then crushing them in a sinus damaging way), and making a brine with water, salt, pink salt and sugar. All of that is mixed and the brisket soaked for the week in the solution. The vegetables are simpler since they are simply boiled in the liquid in which the brisket was simmered.

We have tried apertifs, digestifs, and drinks that go with meals. This drink was less after dinner than it is a dessert. It is also our first time using Irish whiskey. Both of those factors made it a nice follow up to the weighty, and salty, meal that preceded it. The crème de menthe was the interesting part, both in the pale green color it gives the drink and how just a small amount strongly flavors it. We did try a version with Kahlua instead of the crème de menthe and it might be my partiality to coffee, but it made an even better drink/dessert. Not for St. Patrick’s Day though, that is for the drinking of the green.

As for the chorus from Irish Eyes at the beginning? It has little to do with the review. I just thought since David had planted the tune in my brain all week, I would try to return the favor

Jonathan’s take: A nice little dessert beverage to celebrate the holiday.

David’s take: Tasted like melted mint ice cream with a kick to it… absolutely none of which was bad, actually.

Next Week (proposed by Jonathan):

Next Sunday is National Chip and Dip Day. It may not have the panache and acclaim of St. Patrick’s Day, nor be as important as the vernal equinox but how can we not celebrate? The day screams for a margarita and my proposal is Tyler Florence’s ultimate margarita.

Singapore Sling

better?Proposed by: Jonathan

Reviewed by: David

There is a great deal of consensus about the creator, location and basics of the Singapore Sling. The popular history of the drink is that the bartender Ngiam Tong Boon of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore made the first one in the early part of the 20th century. There is also agreement about gin as the main ingredient along with Benedictine, cherry heering or brandy, lime juice, and club soda.  Since the original recipe no longer exists, or at least it is probable it does not, proportions and extra ingredients vary from that point. That should not be surprising to anyone who has ever researched the origins of classic cocktails.

One of the first things you learn when exploring cocktails is that there does not seem to be a definitive history for any drink. Almost every classic cocktail we have tried includes multiple versions of the history, ingredients and proportions. For instance, even with all the consensus, there are those who suggest the Singapore Sling came about before the cocktail by that name was served at the Raffles Long Bar. Different versions include pineapple juice, orange liqueurs, sugars, wine, floats of liquor and a variety of garnishes just to name a few. In fact, there are almost as many recipes as cocktail guides and write-ups.

As an aside, I have enjoyed reading the many blogs about cocktails, although their existence explains part of my problem with this blog. When we started I had visions of great popularity, worldwide acclaim, visits to late night talk shows and branching into alternative endeavors. Who knows, I thought, maybe I would finally achieve the life long career goal for which both David and I have practiced since we were young television addicts—cartoon voiceover artist.

Unfortunately, we are just one blog of thousands exploring the realm of alcohol, and I will need to keep my day job.

The proposal last week suggested that David find a recipe to his liking since there are so many variations. I ended up doing the same after reading multiple suggestions and then changed that up as I made more drinks. The base recipe I used was equal parts (1 ounce) of gin, cherry heering, Benedictine and fresh lime juice. Those were all shaken with ice, 2 ounces of club soda and few dashes angostura bitters were added before serving over ice in a highball glass. The second drink added an equal part of pineapple juice to tone down the sweetness of the heering and I changed the bitters to orange.

It was surprising how the gin got lost in the drink and the Benedictine stood out. My sister-in-law suggested the drink made her feel like she should be on a cruise ship and that really summed it up. It is bright, cheerful and tropical. So much so it seems to cry out for an umbrella. Maybe that is why there are so many versions; it is satisfying, but everyone is looking for that magic combination that takes it to another level.

photo-80Here’s David’s Review:

It appears it’s been a tough winter everywhere and, of course, here in Chicago we like to believe we’ve had it worst with our fourth greatest inches of snowfall ever, our polar vortexes, and our temperatures lower than Antarctica lowered ridiculously again by wind chills. True or not, since winter hit in late October, I’ve been thinking, “Boy, I could use a Singapore Sling!”

Not really, but it was a welcome drink for early March, a reminder of tropical climes and a harbinger of spring. It has to be spring soon, doesn’t it, because how can they dye the Chicago River green if it’s covered with ice?

I like all the ingredients in this drink, every one, so their combination was wonderful to me. I used the classic Raffles Hotel proportions, and it’s complicated measuring out all its parts—harder if you’ve had one. Yet all the varieties of spirits seemed perfectly balanced against the freshness of the pineapple juice… also one of my favorite things. The pineapple garnish gave me a good excuse to eat the entire fruit. I know, I should be ashamed of myself.

After an abortive trip to the market—yes, Jonathan, it happens even here—I went with ingredients we already possessed, Luxardo Maraschino and Mandarine Napoleon in place of Cherry Heering and Cointreau, but the result was pleasing, fruity and fresh with a complementary hint of botanicals from the Benedictine and Gin. Naturally, I’m curious what this cocktail might be like with first-string components and intend to try it again sometime with its archival “necessities.” That said, I was quite satisfied. It’s a classic for good reason. Cocktails involving fruit juice always seem smoothest. Maybe I think somehow I’m being healthy… though the next morning usually disavows that notion.

Jonathan’s take: This is a drink for one of my favorite cartoon characters, the fellow who offered everyone a Hawaiian punch. I need to work on that voice.

David’s Take: Wonderful and welcome.

Next Week (proposed by David):

Erin go Braugh! St. Patrick’s Day is a big celebration around here, with roving bands of stumbling drunks swinging from trolleys and hailing taxis all over the city. I’m using the occasion to suggest something other than green beer. I’ve chosen a cocktail that’s suitably green, uses Irish whiskey, but is perhaps—and how could it not be?—more subtle: Irish Eyes. It’s compared to a White Russian, which I think Jonathan’s wife enjoys, so I’m hoping for the luck of the Irish. And isn’t everyone Irish on March  17th… or thereabouts on the calendar somewhere in there?

Chicago Beers

20140226_191524_resized-1Proposed by: David

Reviewed by: Jonathan

Here’s a second week of beer, this time from Chicago, home of the polar plunge.

Chicagoans have a thing about people who claim to be from Chicago and are actually from Chicago-land (read: suburbia). It’s easier, we all know, to say you’re from Chicago the city than to admit (and explain) what BFE town you really inhabit. I notice, however, that—quite hypocritically—Chicagoans are quite willing to call those BFE’s “Chicago” when it comes to beer.

I chose beers from ChicagoLAND, featuring those breweries that most Chicagoans have decided to adopt for this—and only this—purpose. I drew the line at Indiana, but just barely. Here’s the rundown:

Ticklefight Barleywine (Solemn Oath Brewery): Solemn Oath is actually in Naperville, a god-forsaken place, but they’re a bold, and adventurous brewery, introducing beers in various styles and then moving on. The best, they promise, will return, but they mean to try as many new brews as they can. I didn’t know much about them before choosing this beer—maybe for its name—but barley wine is a style I love, potent and rich.

Heavenly Helles Lager (Church Street Brewery): Home is Itasca, Illinois, west of the city, but let’s forget that. Not loving this style, I found this beer listed at the best in a taste test of Chicago lagers. I also loved their origins, which began when a son decided his engineer dad, needed a hobby and suggested home brewing. It’s a relatively new concern—2012—but Joe Gregor, the dad, traveled widely in Germany and meant to give this beer his particular love, featuring “Unique malt complexity” and “a straw-colored clarity.” That means almost nothing to me but sounds good.

Domaine Du Paige (Two Brothers Brewing Company): The two brothers of Two Brothers, Jim and Jason Ebel, started as home brewers and their company is 100% family owned. Domaine Du Paige is a French Saison inspired by their time in France, described as “toasty” and “caramel,” but it’s only one of a very diverse family of beers. I actually hoped to send Jonathan Cane and Abel, one of my favorite Rye beers, but their whole collection is interesting.

Over Ale (Half Acre Beer Company): Now Half Acre is in Chicago, actually not too far from where I live. I’ve tried nearly all their beers, and, even when they’re outside my tastes, I enjoy their efforts. They describe Over Ale as “A styleless wonder,” but a more precise description of the beer is a brown ale with less roasted malt character. I’d call it a session beer. Though at 6% ABV and in tall cans, it offers enough to make someone quite happy.

Eugene Porter (Revolution Brewery): Revolution is a place in my (sort of) neighborhood but almost impossible to visit because of the hipster crowds that crowd oldsters like me out. Part of the problem is that their food and ambiance is quite good too—bacon fat popcorn and a long mahogany bar—so getting there is difficult. Eugene Porter is named after my personal hero, Eugene V. Debs, a man who ran for president from prison in 1920 (Vote for prisoner 9653!). It’s uses Belgian malts and is black, black, black—intense.

5 Grass Hoppy Ale (5 Rabbit Brewery): Actually Bedford Park. 5 Rabbit Brewery takes its inspiration from Atzec mythology, and 5 Grass (Macuilmalinalli) is a god of excess, that, according to the website, “reminds us that all living things form a grand community that is counting on us to do our part as thoughtful, caring stewards and good neighbors to all life.” Okay. It’s a pale ale, supposed to be smooth and drinkable, and posses “the fresh outdoorsy aroma of the desert” along with sage, rosemary, and Tasmanian pepperberry.

Like Jonathan, I regret omitting breweries, Goose Island, probably the most commercially successful of the microbreweries in Chicago (they call themselves “Chicago’s Craft Beer,”) and Three Floyds in Munster, Indiana, which I’d consider the premier brewery in the Chicago area, with complex and flavorful offerings that are consistently masterful. But, alas, I had to draw a line somewhere.

beerbgoneHere’s Jonathan’s Review:

A few years ago I read a book by Garrett Oliver called The Brewmaster’s Table. Oliver is the brewmaster at Brooklyn Brewery and the intent of the book is to match beers with food. It is so much more, though, including a history of beer, explanation of methods and mostly a fantastic description of beer styles. It inspired me to try different beers even if they felt out of my taste zone. I had hoped that this two week experiment would do the same. That goal was accomplished.

Like David, I feel inadequate describing the microbrews and the subtlety of their flavors, but I can tell you what I like and what leaves me indifferent. I will also rank these beers from least favorite to favorite, although in one way or another I liked all of them.

6. Heavenly Helles. I guess lager is just not my thing either. It is described punnishly as a “righteously good beer” and it is good. Where it did not live up to description, was in its crispness, and being spicy and floral. The flavor was mostly monotone to me with little differentiation from first taste to last. I do have to say the color was fantastic.

5. Domaine Dupage. You would think that a beer made by Two Brothers Brewing had to be tailor-made for the brothers’ blog. It also had an instant appeal as a style of beer rarely encountered (French style country ale) in a market flooded by different versions of a small group of styles. The problem was that it promised a sweet start with a cleansing hops finish, and while the first part was there the second never appeared. It also noted that it was particularly good with food, and that in fact was so. I drank the last part with some garlic heavy white pizza and they paired very well. Just one more note: I collect caps from different beer and the cap from this brewery is one of the best I have ever found. Love their logo and that they advertise themselves on the cap (what a concept).

4.  Tickle Fight American Barley Wine. This was the most intriguing when I first unpacked the box. I have seen, read and heard of barleywine but had never tried it. It is strong at almost 11% alcohol, but that doesn’t cover up the subtlety of taste. The effervescence, slight sweetness and lingering hops taste are all extremely interesting. Would love to see what Garrett Oliver’s advice for food pairing with barleywine is because it is definitely a beer that would enhance a meal. Alas, I leant the book to someone and it never came back.

3. Over Ale. This is the first one that I tried, and I made an overt effort to enjoy it without reading how the brewery described this ale. My guess was that it was a brown ale (it is a caramel color) or American ale. It ends up they describe it as a “styleless wonder” and that is what it is. No matter its description, it had great body and a smooth taste that was consistent from one sip to another. If this is a Chicago Ale, I would love to have more.

2. Eugene Porter. The label, or design of the can in this case, is similar to People’s Porter one of my favorite NC beers so I was favorably inclined. I also love porters in general and this lived up to my expectation. Porters have great body and balance and this beer exemplified those qualities. A lot of beers of this and other styles claim caramel and chocolate notes but don’t meet those promises. This one does. A really dark porter, it had mellow and melded flavors in perfect balance. My only regret is that I did not save it for the perfect 70 degree afternoon we had today. It would have been a great complement to the weather.

1. 5 Grass. There is a home experiment where you can taste a small piece of paper and gauge a predisposition to certain preferences. David’s son, Ian, sent our family the test many years ago and it explained a lot about the preference differences between my sons. I am just guessing, but I think the same differences would be true between me and my brother. I love India pale ales and pale ales whereas he questions why they are so dominant. The notes on this beer talk of deserts, pine flavors, unusual hops, and all sorts of spices. I didn’t get that. What I did get was the crispness of the style, the added florals of the hops and the perfect mix of flavors that the best of the cocktails we have tried have exhibited. IPA’s are a fantastic beer to pair with food (spicy food in particular) and 5 Grass holds true to that. It’s also darn tasty just by itself.

eugeneJonathan’s take: David sent an incredible spectrum of beers. I hate that I had to rank them, but am happy that I got to drink them.

David’s take: It’s been a fun two weeks. Though I’ve tasted many of these beers before, this tasting made me wonder if I’ve given them my full attention, the attention they deserve.

Next week (proposed by Jonathan):

David described a sling in his introduction to A Sling of Sorts #2. That brought to mind a drink I have heard referenced so many times, but have never tried – the Singapore Sling. There are differing theories to the history of the drink and also different recipes. I am going to leave it up to David to choose what recipes he wants to try.