#debatable if NOLA really is a US city though
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Blood Moon Rising
Title: Pup
Featuring: Rowan & Luna, Rowan & Angelica, Rowan & Leo (flashback)
Summary: Not a man, nor a beast but something more. When Rowan awakens to find himself thrust into a world hidden from him for years. Finding himself a part of a pack, and to uncover the mystery of his heritage and the two people that seemingly know him better then he knows himself. A prophecy on the verge of fullfilment; will Rowan be able to face this new life and the people in it? Or will his destiny be to much for him to bear?
A/N: So I made an outline ( a very messy outline) and I have a clear idea on where I want this to go. Since I had a couple of memes from saturdays meme day that went unanswered (from Elly and Di) This is me blending them together for this part and adding on to it. Hopefully, it works lol. Also, I’ve sprinkled in some of my other npcs that I now have to add to my growing list of thought babies on my character page. So, I’ll be updating that as well. Did I mention I love AU! Okay, on with the show. @storybot post
Cure, Uptown New Orleans
There were a couple of places in Nola that offered good food and drink. Rowan had preferred to stay away from the hussle of high tourist areas. Drunken frat boys, wild hen nights and boob flashing wasn’t really his scene anymore; if it had been ever. Cure offered him the good drink and food he craved without all the hoopla of what New Orleans was known for; party city of the western world.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Rowan turned in his chair at the bar, looking at the man who took the seat next to him. Most people gave him a wide berth; tourist that happened upon him in the bar oftern didn’t stick around long because it was too ‘boring’. Locals, gave him a nod but mostly went about their business. Dark eyes ran over the man as he ordered a drink and asked for a menu.
He didn’t give off the appearance of someone unfamiliar to the area. But Rowan was sure he’d never seen him in the bar before. Six months, he lived in a small apartment near the french quarter. Six months he’d been coming to this bar. Seen many attractive men and women walk through the door, went home with a few of them too.
This man, was different.
“ My thoughts aren’t that intresting,” Rowan said.
The dark-haired man chuckled, turning his body towards Rowan. He liked his laugh, his was deep, resonating in his chest; a slight huskyness to it.
“ I don’t know. Those frown lines on your forhead would say you have lots of ‘em.”
“Or I’m a natural brooder and I wake up like this.” he grinned.
The man shook his head, pointing a finger towards his own chest. “ That would be me. I came out of my mother's womb with this scowl.”
Now Rowan laughed. He liked talking with him. Not just because he had the balls to approach him - because most didn’t. No, it went deeper than that. He had something, something that naturally drew him in. Tugging at the middle of his chest, leaving him feeling warm and safe in his presence. It should have been a warning sign, there was all sorts of strange and unexplainable things happening in this city. Happening around him, the reason why his memory was fractured and he couldn’t recall much— if any of his childhood. The people he came from, his family.
Solitude was all he knew, with the occasional dalliance here and there. He had no family, no friends, no home. A tumble weed in a world that seemingly wanted nothing to do with him and always seemed to cut him off at the knees.
It should have been a warning sign, when he streched out his hand towards the stranger. He should have gotten up and left when he felt the jolt of electricity that ran up his arm when their hands met. He should have been nervous as a warmth spread through him, calming and alluring. Making him think of words like home. Instead, Rowan stayed seated, eyes on the other and spoke.
“Rowan Polat.”
The butterflies in his stomach took off, as a knowing smile appeared on the other man’s face.
“ Leo Ronan, it’s very nice to meet you Rowan.”
The Bayou, New Orleans (present)
“Watch out!”
The warning call was enough to pull Rowan out of his thoughts. His hand reaching out to catch the flying object just before it hit him in the face. A group of boys looking back at him wearily. Giving the closest, and seemingly younger boy a wink. Rowan tossed it over to him. Who smiled waving in thanks as he took off running ball firmly in hand as the others followed.
The party was still going, though now it was late afternoon. Apparently, they would stay here until night fall. Before making their way back towards the 7th ward. From what he could gather- and that wasn’t much-considering people were either intrested in drinking, eating, or they were busy trying to figure him out. Which left him confused and looking for the solitude he had lost.
Once he had his fill of ‘meeting the pack’. Rowan had found a tree and took refuge beneath it. Watched as Leo and Jude walked away arm in arm and that left him in even more of a sour mood. So, he nursed a botle of mead someone had made and sat down and people watched.
“ What crawled up your ass pup?”
Craning his head, at the woman that stopped a few feet ahead of him. Rowan decided to ignore her less then steller greeting and focused on one word.
“Pup?”
“Yeah, it’s what we call first-timers. You did shift for the frist time last night right?” she said, arms crossed over her chest.
“ I did, i just didn’t think everyone would be calling me pup. You, Leo, that group of dick heads over there.”
The woman’s eyes followed where Rowan gestured. Burly looking men, a few feet away. Loud, obnoxious, and giving other people a hard time when ever they passed them.
“Ah yes, the goon squad.” she mused shaking her head.
“ Ignore Dale and is acolytes. Between the five of them, they can’t even fire off one brain cell. Let alone oporate 10% of their own.”
Rowan eyed her a moment before he started to laugh. She was funny, moody but funny.
“Guess I won’t go to them for a philosophical debate?”
She shook her head, “ Not unless that debate involves using your fist or teeth.”
Looking away from Dale and company, their eyes met. A simliar a quizzical look in her dark eyes. He was about to call her on it, before she took on a neutral expression almost bored look.
“Come on, I’ve got to take you to Angelica.”
“Who?”
Letting out an annoyed sigh she glared at him, “ Does it matter, Leo told me to take you to her so that’s what I’m doing.” she quipped “- don’t be difficult. I’m not in the mood .”
Turning she began to walk away from him. The petty side of him wanted to stay right were he was under his tree. But the need to do as he’s alpha said took over and he, reluctantly, jogging up next to her.
“You aren’t going to tell me your name?”
She raised a brow, “ Is that a line? Cause it needs work.”
“ I just meant everyone has introduced themselves in some way. Even your buddy Dale.” he chuckled at the look of disgust on her face. “ So no name then. Should I call you grumpy? You look like a Grumpy or maybe bit-”
“Geez, Luna alright. My name is Luna.”
Rowan grinned bumbing her with his shoulder, “See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“It was, and you’re annoying.” she huffed increasing her pace
Rowan was able to keep up easily enough, chuckling to himself. Was it to early to say that he liked Luna? He didn’t think so, it was a welcome change. While she might give off the vibe of ‘ leave me be or I'll cut you’. Rowan found he liked her energy. It didn’t take long before they were infront of a large tent closer to the woods. Luna turned back towards the other, jutting her chin towards the tent.
“ Go on pup, she’s waiting for you.”
Rolling his eyes - because the whole pup thing was going to get old real quick. He moved towards the opening.
“And Rowan...”
His footsteps haulted; turning to face her once more. As she ran a hand through her dark hair she gave him a little shrug and smirked, “ Welcome to the pack.”
For his part, Rowan mimicked her smirked giving a nod of thanks before entering the tent. The inside was darker then he would have expected. Considering they were now in the hight of the afternoon. A few candles were ablaze on a table. A wooden bowl in the center surrounded by the candles. Rowan frowned as he entered. His eyes landing of the figure in the far corner. She wore a long flowy dress, bracelets clinking together as she worked on something. Dark curly hair sat high on her head as her caramel- mocha skin glisten in the candle light.
“ Angelica I take it.” he called .
His eyes continued to take in his surrounding. The collection of plants and bottles strewn around the diffrent surfaces. When she finally turned around, he was met with the grey -blue eyes he had seen earlier with Leo, albeit briefly.
“ I am,” smiling softly; extending her arm towards the table and the pillow chair in the center. Rowan took the cue ,and made his way towards the table. It took him a minute to get comfortable. Sitting with his legs crossed and pulled under him. Resting his elbows on his knees as he watch her, effortlessly, take the seat opposite of him.
Angelica placed a knife next to the bowl in the center of the table. Her eyes never leaving his. A part of him, was wondering what was different about her. She was different, not like the others in the pack, more like him. Not that he could pinpoint how. Something akin to outer worldly in her eyes. For the first time, he felt a little on edge under her watchful gaze.
A knowing smile graced her lips, and Rowan was sure that she could feel his apperhension.
“May I have your hand please?”
He raised a brow, eyes drifting towards the knife, “ Why?”
She giggled, “You have a lot of questions Rowan, and not all of them will be answered in a day. All I ask is for you to trust me, can you do that?”
No. He didn’t want to trust her. He shouldn’t trust her. Look where trusting a beautiful face got him. Rowan trusted Leo, a man he hadn’t known only spending a couple of hours with him. Now he was a werewolf, surrounded by people he didn’t know but did. His life turned upside down and he had the sickening feeling that his life was only going to become more topsyturvy as time went on.
Even with everything in him crying for Rowan to get up and run, run and never look back. Damn it if he didn’t feel some kind of security with this woman. So, he stretched out his hand towards her. Shivering as soft, gentle hands took hold of his.
Rowan watched as she looked over his palm. Her digits dancing across the lines indented in them. Whispering words underher breath that even with his improved hearing he couldn’t quite make out. It was a diffrent language though. French, Creole?
“Latin,” she supplied her eyes still on his hand.
Okay, that wasn’t creepy.
“Isn’t that a dead language?”
“It’s only dead to the people who no longer use it.” she giggled again reaching for the knife. The wolf inside him was stirring and Rowan couldn’t help but fidget a little in his seat. When her steel eyes met his, he calmed his wolf ready to attack if need be.
“Trust me.” was all she said before she dragged her knife along his palm. His blood filling the bowl in front of them. The pain wasn’t so bad, but his hand did sting. When Angelica released him, he snatched his hand away, looking down to see how bad the damage was. But there was no damage, the cut was gone. All that remaind was slightly pink new flesh.
“How did yo-”
“You’re a werewolf now, we heal faster then most.” she grinned. “Ignis.”
Brown eyes widen as the bowl that held his blood became inblazed with the reddish, orange flame in the center. He was in awe as he leaned closer towards the flame. Passing a hand through it, he didn’t know what he was expecting. A hologram, some sort of trick of the eye? But as he felt the heat against his flesh he knew it was real. Eyes widen in wonder, he looked up at a very amused face of Angelica.
“Who are you?”
Giving a rueful shake of her head, she flicked her wrist as the flap of the entrance opened up, casting in the afternoon light once more.
“You’ll find out soon enough, mon cher.”
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Cocktail College: How to Make the Perfect Sazerac
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“Nothing’s sacred, except maybe the Sazerac.” Neal Bodenheimer and his bartenders at Cure, a New Orleans cocktail lounge, designed their Sazerac recipe with this value in mind. In this episode of “Cocktail College,” host Tim McKirdy chats with Bodenheimer about what makes the Sazerac so special, and how home bartenders and aspiring mixologists alike can craft the most delicious (and historically accurate) versions of the beverage.
As the city’s official cocktail, the Sazerac has a rich history in New Orleans that dates back to the 1800s. It has become a staple drink for bar-goers in the city, which means it’s an important drink to prepare properly. Bodenheimer strives to do just that, and has spent years learning and perfecting the tricks of the Sazerac trade.
Tune in to learn how to make the perfect Sazerac.
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MAKE NEAL BODENHEIMER’S SAZERAC
Ingredients
2 ounces rye, such as Sazerac 6 Year
¼ ounce Demerara syrup (2:1 ratio of sugar and water, lightly cooked)
3 dashes (or 21-23 drops) Peychaud’s bitters
Herbsaint Original 100 proof, in an atomizer
Lemon peel
Directions
Spray the inside (specifically) of a chilled double Old Fashioned glass with 4 atomizer sprays of Herbsaint.
In a mixing glass, stir the rye, Demerara syrup, and Peychaud’s bitters over ice until chilled.
Carefully strain into the seasoned glass.
From a distance of 3 to 4 inches, express the lemon peel on the outside (specifically) of the glass, then dab lightly on the glass to add further citrus oil.
Roll up the lemon peel and place it on the side of the glass to garnish.
CHECK OUT THE CONVERSATION HERE
Tim McKirdy: Hey! This is Tim McKirdy, and welcome to VinePair’s “Cocktail College,” a weekly deep dive into classic cocktails that goes beyond the recipe with America’s best bartenders. Nothing’s sacred, except maybe the Sazerac. That’s the philosophy of Neal Bodenheimer and his team at Cure in New Orleans. It’s a wise approach if you run a bar in NOLA. Not only is the Sazerac New Orleans’ official cocktail, the city basically kept the drink alive when so many others had turned their back on it during the dark days of cocktail culture. For New Orleanians, the Sazerac is a bit like that band you followed and liked before they became famous, or the team you’ve kept on supporting through years of disappointment (shout-out to Mets and Jets fans). At the beginning of our interview, Neal goes deep on the drink’s backstory. All you history buffs are going to love it. The information he lays out helps us understand the rye versus Cognac debate. History in general is also at the heart of how Neal and his team greeted their version of this sacred cocktail. You could walk into Cure, order their Sazerac, and enjoy the hell out of it, but also be completely unaware of the history and attention to detail mixed into their version of the drink. Today, listener, we get to look behind the scenes. Neal Bodenheimer, welcome to the show. Thank you so much for joining us.
Neal Bodenheimer: Tim, thank you so much for having me. I’m excited to talk cocktails with you.
T: The pleasure is all mine. I’m really looking forward to getting into it. I believe that, at Cure, you have a specific philosophy relating to the drink that we’re going to discuss today. Can you tell us about that?
N: Sure. Any time you open a bar in New Orleans — we opened Cure just under 13 years ago — the first thing that you have to figure out is how you’re going to make a Sazerac. When we were getting going, there were a lot of Sazeracs around town. Some of them were good. Some of them were not. We knew we really needed to dig in on this drink, and we started putting together a philosophy. Our philosophy starts with how we’re going to approach the drink. Is the Sazerac a stand-alone, independent cocktail? Is a Sazerac an evolution of the whiskey cocktail? As we started debating that, we really felt — and I think that, over time it’s really been proven out — that the Sazerac is an evolution of the improved whiskey cocktail and of the improved brandy cocktail. We really felt that it was important to treat it in that way. From there, we started looking at the ingredients. We looked at the rye, sugar, how we were going to use the bitters, how we were going to use the aromatics with the absinthe or absinthe substitute, and the citrus element. It was important for us to really dial into it in, drill down, and figure out what we felt like made the best Sazerac. There was debate. The way I feel today isn’t necessarily the way I felt 13 years ago.
T: That’s incredible.
N: It’s great. I think that it just goes to show that you really never stop learning. You may be “anti” something one day, but the more you live with it, the more you come around on some stuff. I had a lot of hubris as a young bartender. I remember making Sazerac and saying, “I really love them with orange peels.” I actually do think an orange peel works really well on a Sazerac, but it ceases to be a Sazerac in my mind. At Cure, we’ve always said that nothing is sacred, except maybe a Sazerac. When you start to look at what is classic, while that orange peel may taste really good in a Sazerac format, it’s just not a Sazerac. Thus, it cannot be served as a Sazerac without a qualification.
THE HISTORY OF THE SAZERAC
T: I think that’s a really great point for us to jump off here. It really relates to what we’re doing on the show. On the one hand, you are refusing to say, “We’ve come up with a formula, we’ve perfected it, and that’s it.” You’re evolving, but on the other hand, you’re saying, “We need to have some respect for the classics.” Again, that’s what we’re trying to get into on this show. Drinks have got to taste great. To really reach those upper echelons, though, they have to have a great story as well. So, I was wondering if you could tell us the story of the Sazerac. Is it one of those cocktails that does have a great story? Are there great talking points?
N: I would argue that the Sazerac has one of the best stories in all of cocktails. Just like any great bar story, it has a lot of suspect facts in it. You cannot really talk about the history of the Sazerac cocktail without talking first about Stanley Clisby Arthur and his 1937 work, “New Orleans Drinks.” The interesting thing about Arthur is that he is not a particularly reliable narrator. He certainly got some stuff right, and he is our guide. Without Arthur, you really don’t have a true canon of New Orleans cocktails. At the same time, he was prone to take some liberties and connect some dots that maybe shouldn’t have been connected. In 1937, he’s looking back and trying to piece things together. He gets enough right that the legend of the Sazerac is built. He gets enough wrong that we know that maybe we need to dig in historically and check his work. Number one: He certainly puts the timeline a little early for Antoine Amédée Peychaud, who is the inventor of Peychaud’s bitters. We’re lucky to have Philip Greene, who’s done a lot of the research around that. Philip is actually a descendant of Antoine Amédée Peychuad. Not only is he a great historian, but he really has a dog in the fight, too. Yeah. Philip was smart enough and a good enough researcher to look and say, “Hey, this doesn’t match up.” So, when Clisby Arthur is talking about Antoine Amédée Peychaud inventing the cocktail — not only did he say that he made the Sazerac, but that the Sazerac was the first cocktail and he invented it — that is patently false. That was disproven pretty easily. If you ask people around New Orleans, I think that a lot of people haven’t kept up with that and certainly would like to believe that New Orleans still holds that claim, but it’s just not true. I’ve broken a lot of hearts in my hometown when I’ve told them that.
T: I’m sure that goes down well.
N: You have to serve that with a drink, really. It’s interesting. Immediately, you start to see that there are some pretty significant holes in the timeline. It’s hard to detach from our modern perspective when we’re looking back on history. I think Arthur suffered from the same challenge. He knew the Sazerac as the Sazerac and was looking at the history of how the cocktail developed. He thought, obviously people knew that as a Sazerac. That’s just not true. You don’t see a Sazerac mentioned in print until, I think, 1899. We’re talking just under 70 years after Antoine Amédée Peychaud started his apothecary in 1833. The story goes that Antoine Amédée Peychaud creates the first cocktail. He has his bitters, which are a patent medicine. It’s a curative, so he puts it with sugar, brandy, and the bitters. He serves it to guests that aren’t feeling well. He serves it to people that are coming to his pharmacy looking for a cure. It just takes off, becomes all the rage, and the Sazerac is born. Well, it’s a little more convoluted than that because it’s pretty obvious that the Sazerac as we know it today really developed over time and, as I said earlier, developed out of the improved brandy cocktail. Improved, which means adding absinthe and/or adding Maraschino liqueur. It’s very close to the Sazerac format. In fact, it’s almost identical.
T: Right.
N: That would have had widespread adoption across the U.S. That doesn’t change the fact that New Orleanians had a taste for brandy. That’s just because of our colonial heritage, along with our French and Spanish heritage. We’re tied to the Old World, and we wanted things that were popular in the Old World like brandy. The Sazerac brand of Cognac was imported into New Orleans and was popular. That’s where The Sazerac Coffee House got its name from. From there, I’m sure that they were making improved brandy cocktails with Sazerac for a fee. It certainly would have been popular. I still don’t think people understood that as being a Sazerac. Of course, you get into phylloxera, which is part of Clisby Arthur’s story, and he gets it right. As phylloxera starts to kill the vineyards in France, you would have had either a massive price increase on the brandy that existed and a severely limited — if not nonexistent — supply of young or new make. That would have created an issue where people had to look elsewhere for their spirit. It doesn’t take a huge leap of logic to know that rye had exploded all over the United States and became an easy substitution in the improved cocktail. It certainly went from an improved brandy cocktail into an improved rye cocktail, an improved whiskey cocktail. I’m sure it was consumed a lot. Over time, you get to the Sazerac bar, and you have Wilkinson and Miret who are making it. There’s a reference to them making the best whiskey cocktail in town in 1895, but it’s certainly not identified as a Sazerac. 1899 is when you first see that Sazerac in print.
T: Within the bar, we do like to disagree about things. It’s good. It provides fodder for barstool debate in our niche circles. At that point, that’s where this great debate arises. It historically, perhaps, pioneered with brandy and Cognac. But, if we’re talking about over 100 years of its modern history, we’re looking at this as a whiskey- or rye-based drink. During that time, at which it actually has that name attached, there’s a good argument to say, “Hey, this is actually a rye cocktail.”
N: Rye certainly built the drink. I think you have to keep that in mind, and I think that’s right. That doesn’t mean that a brandy Sazerac isn’t a delicious cocktail, because it is. That’s the great thing about simple drinks. Simple drinks really become a format where you can swap out ingredients in them, and they still work and taste great.
T: Right. That’s why that transition could take place from Cognac to rye. You have this solid foundation. You have the formula there. That’s the basis of cocktail culture. That’s the blueprint right there.
N: Absolutely. Much like in cooking, where you have mother sauces, there are mother cocktails. In this case, the whiskey cocktail is the mother cocktail of the Sazerac.
HOW TO MAKE THE PERFECT SAZERAC
T: Let’s bring it forward, therefore, to modern times. You touched upon the ingredients earlier. I was wondering, is this a cocktail where we’re talking about that formula and there’s a widely agreed upon formula? Or, is this one of those ones where people take some degree of liberties? Is there a lot of personalization? What are your particular specs in terms of ingredients and ratio? We’ll dig into the finer details after this, but just generally speaking.
N: I think that, with any cocktail that’s been around this long, you have people that make it in their own way. That has to exist. There are also people who make it in a way that was passed down through their families. To me, that’s one of the coolest things that can happen in cocktails and food. We try and look at it through a historical lens, but we also don’t live in 1899. We might pretend, sometimes, in the world of cocktails. But, we have to take into account that we live in a modern world with modern techniques and ingredients. If we don’t, then it’s not always going to translate well. We really think about it as a whiskey cocktail. Thus, we really build it in the way that we would build an Old Fashioned. What we’re looking for is a rye that has some spice notes, but we also want a rye that’s got some body. The reason why is because the Sazerac is a textural experience. You’re taking your time to not understir or overstir it. You really want to get it in the right place where it has this velvet texture and mouthfeel. You don’t want something that is so spicy and thin that it becomes hard to get that pleasure point in a Sazerac. Number two — and this was one of the things that we hotly debated in the early days of Cure — is the style of sugar. We asked, “What type of sugar do we think was probably being used? Do we think it was a refined sugar? Do we think it was less refined sugar?” We settled on less refined sugar. My business partner, Kirk Estopinal, was really passionate about that. I always liked Sazeracs with white sugar because I felt like it got out of the way. But, as we started talking about it and doing side-by-sides, I realized that it was nice to use a darker sugar because you get more texture. You get those dark molasses notes. It just felt like it made for a more complex cocktail. We also felt like it was historically more accurate. From there is where some of the controversy comes, because there certainly is a historical record that you would have seen Angostura and Peychaud’s bitters used in a Sazerac.
T: Oh, really?
N: Yeah, absolutely. We only use Peychaud’s. I think that when you’re looking at the break in cocktails and what makes a Sazerac independent from a whiskey cocktail or an Old Fashioned, it’s the proprietary bitters. For me, that’s a flavor that I want more of. A Sazerac with Angostura bitters is perfectly delicious, but in my mind, it takes it a little bit away from what makes it uniquely a Sazerac. There is controversy. Everybody can argue that, but that’s what we’ve decided within our bars. It has started to become more standard in New Orleans. That doesn’t mean that there’s a right or wrong way to do it. I want to be really clear about that. Just because we do it doesn’t mean that it’s the right way. It just means it’s the way that we do it. There is philosophy behind it, but you can argue that.
T: That’s fantastic. One thing that you were mentioning earlier is the texture being a great part of this drink. This also ties into the kind of historical question that arises of, “Do you use what was made historically, or do you use something more modern?” I think that takes us on to the next component, which is, are you using Herbsaint or absinthe? Absinthe might have been historically correct, but it wasn’t available in the U.S. until 2007. You get to a point where a large part of this cocktail’s history has been made with Herbsaint. Where does that come in for you and how do each one of those ingredients affect texture, which sounds like what you’re looking for?
N: I want to say that I like both absinthe and Herbsaint. They do different things. Sometimes, I want absinthe in my Sazerac and sometimes I want Herbsaint. I don’t want the Herbsaint that was used for years and years and years in New Orleans. I really want the throwback Herbsaint that Sazerac launched a decade ago. It doesn’t have grand wormwood like absinthe, but does function in a lot of ways like an absinthe. The proof is right. It’s not as sweet as the Herbsaint that was used for generations here in New Orleans. In a lot of ways, it’s hedging our bet a little bit. Whereas, you may have had a sweeter, less anise-forward product with Herbsaint. Absinthe has exceptionally strong flavors, and the Herbsaint that was used for a few generations in New Orleans is a little sweeter and a little less robust. We love to meet in the middle and find something that’s got a little sweetness to it, but also has some really strong anise flavors. For that, you miss a little bit of the bitterness that you get from the grand wormwood, but it still functions really closely to an absinthe. It still has that culturally important ingredient with Herbsaint, but it also has some of the things you’re looking for in absinthe.
T: Fantastic. When I talked about texture, you mentioned that you don’t quite get the bitterness of absinthe. Is that something that you’re losing out on? Or, do you really not feel that it is so much?
N: I think that it’s like any cocktail. You have to understand what you’re working with. Granted, we use something that wouldn’t have been used historically. Historically, they would have taken a dash of absinthe and put it in the chilled glass. They would have thrown it up in the air to coat it and then dumped it back into something. We use atomizers now, just because they’re really effective. You’re not using so much product, but they coat efficiently. It’s like any cocktail if you’re not paying attention to what ingredients you’re using. If you make Daiquiris a few months apart, the lime you bought at the store is going to be different. Different seasons, different acidity, different sweetness. That’s something that you have to always keep in mind when you’re making cocktails. If you’re using an absinthe, you are bringing a little extra bitterness to the party. Granted, not all absinthes are created equally. You have to understand if the absinthe has a lot of sugar, not a lot of sugar, the proof on it, how strong it is, what level of wormwood there is. If it has some bitter notes to it, maybe you want to dial down your bitters a little bit.
T: That’s a great point. It’s also a really lovely transition into something else that you alluded to earlier that I would love to hear more about. You were talking about the rye that you use. You don’t want it to be too spicy or too thin. Of course, that will come down to a number of factors, but maybe the first one that we’re looking at is mash bills. Purists these days might want to be drinking a high-rye mash bill. As I understand it, from the sounds of it, maybe that’s not what you’re looking for in this specific cocktail.
N: No. That’s not what we’re looking for. There is an excellent place in cocktails for high-rye mash bills. This is not taking away from that in any way, shape, or form. Thirteen years ago, we knew people were drinking Sazeracs. We didn’t know if people were always liking Sazeracs when they drank them, but it was our goal to make a Sazerac that we felt tasted really great. We didn’t feel like the high-rye mash bill — which was really hard to find at the time, by the way — made for the best version. We’re very lucky in New Orleans that the Goldring family, who owns Sazerac, lives in New Orleans. New Orleans is a priority for them. Sazerac 6 Year, even when it has been difficult to get in other markets, has been readily available in New Orleans. We had a great product to work with, so it was easy for us to default to that. We also felt like the six years of aging really helped and that a mash bill that wasn’t super high rye made for a spicy, but sweet and rich base for the cocktail. From there, we could then decide how many drops or dashes of bitters we wanted to use and what level of sugar we wanted to use. You have to start somewhere when you’re creating a format. That’s where we started. We started with Sazerac 6 Year. We started there because of what we felt like it would bring to the party. From there, we made our decisions. You’ve got to put your foot in the ground on one thing.
T: You’ve got to settle on one variable before you can start.
N: That’s really where we started. Then, we started going through the other questions that we had and the other decisions. Certainly, I still think that we could have a very tasty Sazerac if we used a high-rye whiskey. The recipe would look different, though.
T: Tell us about that recipe, then. Tell us about your specific preparation. Knowing, somewhat, about your Sazerac, this really is something that you dial in on the details for. Tell us how you prepare that specifically.
N: At Cure, as I said, we start off with two ounces of Sazerac rye whiskey. It’s a six-year rye whiskey. From there, we use a skinny quarter-ounce of Demerara syrup. It’s two to one. It’s lightly cooked. We’re looking to melt the sugar into the syrup, but it is not something where we’re boiling the syrup or doing anything like that.
T: Right. Not reducing down to a caramel.
N: Yeah, exactly. We are looking to integrate the sugar in the water. We are not looking to cook the syrup. We use dropper bottles. The reason why is because it’s incredible what a drop or two more or less of bitters will do to a cocktail. Skilled bartenders certainly can account for that, but we’re looking for consistency and precision, so we use dropper bottles. Our formula is that seven drops out of a dropper bottle equals one dash. We do 21 to 23 drops of Peychaud’s bitters. It used to be 21, then one of our longtime bartenders added two because he loved Michael Jordan and he felt like it made a better drink. Certainly, if you sat at the bar at Cure, you’d probably get 23 drops in your Sazerac. It’s funny how these things catch on and stay. From there, we’re building that in a mixing glass. You want to try and integrate all of your liquid ingredients at that moment. You’re going to pull out your chilled double dashing glass. You’re going to take your atomizer and do about four sprays on the inside, specifically, of the glass. You want to be very intentional about where you’re putting your aromatics on this cocktail. This is a double aromatic cocktail, so I really want distinct aromatic qualities. They will blend. That’s not to say that they won’t. You can’t help that. But, you would like to know that if you put your nose near a certain part of the glass, you might get more of one aromatic versus all of it, all mixed, all the time. It’s an important way that we approach it. We do atomized Herbsaint original on the inside, and then we’ll stir our cocktail. Ice is everything in this moment. You want your cocktail glass chilled because you don’t want to spend your time chilling down a cocktail, putting it into a warm glass, and then, as the glass is trying to match the chill of the cocktail, it transfers the cold out of the cocktail into the glass to reach equilibrium. So, it’s really important that you use a cold glass because you’ve spent your time trying to get your dilution and chill appropriate. Depending on the ice you’re using, the more dense it is, the longer you’re going to stir it, and the less dense, the shorter you’re going to stir it. Some people like to pre-dilute. I think it depends on what you’re going for. Then, we’re going to strain it. We’re going to strain it very carefully, because what we don’t want to do is add bubbles that really affect the texture of the drink. Take your time to try and make it into a silky smooth cocktail. Then, you’re going to cut your lemon peel and express from about three to four inches away on the outside of the cocktail glass. That’s not to say that a little bit of that can’t go in the cocktail, but your goal is to put as much of the oil on the outside of the glass as possible because you want it to get on someone’s hand. When you put oil on top of a drink, you really are going to drink that within the first two sips because it’s just going to sit on top of the drink. We want that lemon oil to really stick around and stay on your hand. We’ll kind of dab it on different parts of the glass. It’s not a rub. It’s just taking this oil-laden peel and trying to get as much of that oil on the glass as possible. Then, we’ll roll the peel. There’s a tradition of that in New Orleans. You roll the peel and mount it on the edge. Fate intervenes. Sometimes they fall in. Sometimes they fall out. Not a big deal. But, once again, you have this peel that’s full of oil and acid. If that peel goes in the drink, that drink will be lighter and brighter, with a little more acid. If it goes out, it’s richer and rounder. We really think that that should be a guest decision unless, of course, fate intervenes and it falls in or out.
T: What I really love about hearing that is talking about your specific approach to the aromatics there. This is something I actually encountered last night, because, as I was thinking about this episode and Sazeracs, I made one for myself and sat down with the drink. It occurred to me that I don’t have an atomizer at home. I was rinsing out my glass and then got a little bit, on the outside of the glass, of my absinthe. I thought, “Well, this is an unpleasant experience,” because I don’t think that’s necessarily an aromatic that you want on your hand. My next step, where I went wrong, was doing too much lemon. At the end of the day, I was missing out on the aromatics within the drink. When I sip from the glass, I’m missing the absinthe from my nose. I was really startled at how the lemon could overtake the absinthe because you imagine it to be so strong and powerful. That real measured approach that you have definitely tracks with my bad experiences as a bad home bartender.
N: This is a lot of time and a lot of trial. As I said, we have one way of doing this, and we put theory into it. There’s a reason why we do it, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the right reason for everybody. Getting back to that idea of Angostura bitters, the level of rye in your base distillate, using Herbsaint or something a little sweeter, using absinthe. There are so many little decisions that go into it. For us, it’s really a process-oriented drink. Right. The way that we think about it lines up. We’re stacking aromatics. We’re stacking flavors. We’re being very intentional for a reason. That’s what makes our version shine, but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to work for every version with every ingredient.
T: 100 percent. That would also seem to be a philosophy that anyone can take and apply to any other drink, which is being intentional with your ingredients and the reasons you’re using them. You can be informed by history. You can also realize that things have changed over time. Once you understand your ingredients and the thing that you’re aiming for at the end, that should inform these decisions.
N: Yeah. Look, we are not saving lives here. We’re making cocktails. It’s important to note that the most important thing is that you make a drink that you like. If you’re a home bartender and you’re making it for yourself, make the drink that you like. Don’t make it because I like it. What do I know? Why should you listen to me? If you live in upstate New York and you have different things that are available to you than I do in New Orleans, what does it matter what I think about how you make your cocktail? What matters is if you enjoy your cocktail. That’s the same for wine and beer. Drink the things that you like. Don’t let anybody tell you what you should be drinking. Drink what you want.
T: Yeah. I couldn’t agree with that more. Do you have any other final remarks about this drink? One thing that I find fascinating about the Sazerac is that it’s the official cocktail of New Orleans. It’s not the official one of Louisiana, which I think is sometimes erroneously reported, but New Orleans. That’s a pretty big title to hold. There’s some stiff competition there.
N: Certainly. We’re the only city with an official cocktail. It was passed in 2008, and it was supposed to be statewide. New Orleans does not always share the same values as the rest of Louisiana. The rest of our representatives all over Louisiana thought that maybe Louisiana shouldn’t have an official cocktail. I could understand why, but I don’t agree with it. So, New Orleans got its own. Their loss. Our gain.
T: Yeah. Sorry, Ramos Gin Fizz and, to a lesser extent, the French 75, which is not from the city, but definitely very famous in the city.
N: Certainly co-opted by us. I do think that Ramos is a uniquely New Orleans drink. It would have been a great selection as well. I’m also really happy it’s not, on a personal level.
T: We’re definitely going to have that cocktail in this first season for folks to listen to. So, you’ll understand why that is as well. It’s probably not something you want to be making too many of, if you can avoid it.
N: We’ll have all these recipes. We’ve got our Cure book coming out. It’s a New Orleans cocktail book that’ll come out in the next year or so. There’ll be plenty of New Orleans cocktails to dive into.
GETTING TO KNOW NEAL BODENHEIMER
T: Amazing. Well, Neal, it’s been so great exploring this cocktail with you and hearing about your specific approach to it. Now, I’d love to end the show by getting to know you a little bit more and finishing with some quick questions that would also probably provide some incredible advice to a younger bartender starting out or folks at different stages in their career. How does that sound?
N: That sounds great. Buyer beware on some of this stuff.
T: First quick hit question for us here. What’s the first bottle, whether it’s a brand or a general category of spirit, that makes it onto your bar programs?
N: It’s interesting, and it is related to what we just talked about. In general, Sazerac 6 Year rye is one of the first bottles that’s on our bar. At every bar that I’ve owned or operated, it’s one of our first selections. We make so many Sazeracs in New Orleans that it really is the first bottle that we always get.
T: As a quick aside here — and I’m just riffing off the top of my head here — I don’t think there’s any other classic cocktail where, for the spirit component, you can grab a bottle with the same name. That’s just Sazerac. Is that correct?
N: Correct. Well, the Sazerac company just released Henry Ramos gin. I guess you could make a Ramos Gin Fizz with that gin. I’m sure that there are other ones. I just can’t think of them right now.
T: Martini drinkers, please note that I said spirits and not any other component, just for the record there.
N: Well said.
T: Just wanted to put that out there. Second question. Which ingredient or tool do you believe is the most undervalued in a bartender’s arsenal?
N: I’m going to do an ingredient and a tool. The first ingredient is bitters. Bitters are the salt of cocktails. There are very few cocktails that I don’t think are improved by bitters. It really is like a pinch of salt in cooking. It highlights flavors. It ties things together. I want them all the time in all of my drinks. So, that’s number one. The undervalued tool — to say that it’s undervalued might be a stretch — I think is the bar spoon. It’s the most important thing. You can crack ice with it. You can measure with it. You can stir with it. You can strain with it. I find that I can do so much with the bar spoon. If I need one tool, it’s that.
T: It’s an extension of your hand. It’s like a knife for a chef.
N: Absolutely. The next one I would pick would be a jigger or some sort of measurement tool. Those are more easily replaced than a great bar spoon, though.
T: What has been the most important piece of advice you’ve received working in the industry?
N: This is something that is another foundational principle at Cure. You’ve got to ask yourself, “Why?” We cannot just accept knowledge as gospel. At some point, someone said, “This is the way I think it should be done.” Then, it became accepted. We always have to ask ourselves the question, “Why?” This comes back to what we think about the Sazerac. Why do we pick this kind of rye? Why are we using these kind of bitters? If you’re not asking yourself why, then you’re never improving. You’re just regurgitating someone else’s opinions. That would be the most important piece of advice. You’ve got to ask yourself, “Why am I doing this? Why am I shaking this long? Why am I stirring this long? Why am I double straining?” There are a thousand little details that go into bartending and production that you’ve got to question.
T: Again, history is relative. There are different points in history.
N: Different perspectives.
T: 100 percent. So, if you could only visit one last bar in your life, whether that’s the same bar for the rest of your life, or one last visit to a bar, which one would that be?
N: It’s hard. I’ll give you two answers. Cure was a life dream of mine. There is no place in the world where I feel more comfortable, besides my house. It feels very much like an extension of me, and so I feel exceptionally comfortable in Cure. If I had to pick one bar to go to for the rest of my life, that’s where it would be. That’s very personal, though. If I were at someone else’s bar, there are a thousand amazing bars in the world that I would feel honored to have a last drink in. The first one that comes to mind for me is Dante. I just think it’s a really special place. I think the drinks are exceptional. It would be that kind of place where I would have a last drink.
T: I think it does that great job of delivering incredible quality, but you could almost walk past it in the street and not realize. I think the decor is amazing and whatnot, but you might not expect it. I love that idea as well, that you could think, “Oh, that looks like a cute cafe,” but it’s much more.
N: It’s also got an incredible history. In the way that I really appreciate, they are carrying the mantle of a historically relevant business. That really appeals to me.
T: Final question here. If you knew that the next cocktail you drank was going to be your last, what would you order or make?
N: Well, that’s a hard one. I don’t know, and I do know. If you look at the back bar of Cure, we have so many products, because I love so many things. I genuinely find myself coming back to the Negroni over and over. I think I would have to make myself a Negroni for my last cocktail. Once again, I would take my time. I would find the vermouth that I wanted. I would find the gin that I wanted. I would make sure that it was perfect and that I could savor it.
T: Fantastic. Well, Neal, thank you so much again for joining us today. Nothing sacred, except perhaps the Sazerac. Wonderful thought, and it’s been really great speaking with you.
N: Yeah. Thank you, Tim. Thanks for thinking about me for this.
T: Thank you very much.
If you enjoy listening to the show anywhere near as much as we enjoy making it, go ahead and hit subscribe, and please leave a rating or review wherever you get your podcasts — whether that’s Apple, Spotify, or Stitcher. And please tell your friends.
Now, for the credits. “Cocktail College” is recorded and produced in New York City by myself and Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tastings director and all-around podcast group. Of course, I want to give a huge shout-out to everyone on the VinePair team. Too many awesome people to mention. They know who they are. I want to give some credit here to Danielle Grinberg, art director at VinePair, for designing the awesome show logo. And listen to that music. That’s a Darbi Cicci original. Finally, thank you, listener, for making it this far and for giving this whole thing a purpose. Until next time.
Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.
The article Cocktail College: How to Make the Perfect Sazerac appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/cocktail-college/complete-guide-sazerac-recipe/
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Prompts!! How about...Caroline wants a night in to pamper herself, but the concept eludes Klaus, so he just kind of doesn’t know what to do with himself???
Love this Morgan, hope youlike it!
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Klaus…
“So, she kicked you out?”Kol asked, a sizeable grin growing steadily as he spoke every word.
“No.” Klaus shot back,although he was fairly certain that’s exactly how it happened. But being theKing of New Orleans certain details needed to be kept under wraps in case theirenemies decided he was so weak they could take over the town.
Truth was he was weak, butonly when it involved his queen, Caroline Forbes. Klaus would do anything sheasked, his wolf tendencies were usually watered down into more of a patheticpuppy dog approach in her presence.
“So, she kicked you out?”Elijah reiterated. Usually he didn’t involve himself in such immaturediscussions but the slight smile tugging at his lips was giving him away.
“She’s having a pampernight,” he huffed, still not quite sure what that meant. Being ordered out ofthe compound for the night was one thing but not being able to sleep in theirbed was another. Klaus was already aroused thinking about what he was missing.
“Pamper night?”
“Massages, facials andpedicures apparently.”
“Apparently? Last time Ichecked you were supposed to be the one massaging her, Niklaus, amongst otherthings,” Enzo interjected. His opinion was always annoying as it was unwantedeven if he was married to his sister. “If you’re not getting the job donethen…”
He’d jumped the table inan instant, his hand finding Enzo’s neck and squeezing it tightly by way ofresponse. Just because his sister liked him didn’t mean Klaus hadto. “What exactly are you trying to say?” His brown eyes bored into Klaus’blue ones but no sound was coming out.
“Maybe if you stoppedblocking his windpipe he could respond,” Elijah offered, trying to be helpfulas usual.
He released his grip,albeit slowly. “Anyway, it isn’t just Caroline pampering herself it’s yourwife, Bonnie and Katherine don’t forget. The reason you’re all sitting here atRousseau’s pathetically by my side.” Klaus felt temporarily triumphant beforerealising it didn’t matter. She didn’t need him and it hurt. Call himmelodramatic and needy but Klaus didn’t care, all he wanted was her creamy,bare skin writhing against his as she moaned his name.
“What the hell are theyreally doing then?” Kol conceded, his frustration evident. “I mean whoneeds a vibrator when you have moi?”
“There better not bestrippers,” Elijah sulked, taking a rather large sip from his whiskey.
“We need to get over thereand spy STAT,” Enzo muttered.
“And what do you suggestwe do? They are the most perceptive women I know.”
“If three Originals andyours truly can’t be stealth then I’m kind of worried for the City,” Enzobaulked. “If anyone’s pampering them other than us we need to know.”
Caroline…
The relief washed overCaroline as the cucumber slices were placed over her eyelids. She instantlyfelt better, allowing the usual Mikaelson/NOLA drama to ebb away. She couldhear relieved sighs from the other girls. If the wives in theMafia thought it was tough, try being part of the Originalfamily.
When she’d told Klaus sheneeded a night apart he’d been miffed to the point of childish. She knew heloved being close to her at all times but she needed some pampering andrelaxation and it was doing the job.
“What do you think theboys are doing right now?” Katherine murmured by Caroline’s side.
“They’ll be restless forsure, especially if they’re forced to spend time together,” Bonniechuckled. “Maybe start a few fights..”
“Kill some people ifprovoked,” Rebekah added knowing her siblings and husband all too well.
“Last time I checkedtonight wasn’t about them,” Caroline huffed, feeling her relaxing mooddisappearing fast. She loved Klaus, that wasn’t up for debate, but she was soconsumed by him she couldn’t think straight most of the time.
Deciding to make the moveto New Orleans had been a big one but being the revered King of New Orlean’severything was a tough gig. He was insatiable and affectionate and by boyfriendstandards right up there but it was unnerving at the same time. She needed sometime apart to breathe even if that term was meant figuratively.
They fell into a deepsilence but before Caroline could fall asleep she noticed a few dark shadowsloitering nearby. She would have been worried if they weren’t so familiar. Shegestured to the other girls subtly.
“I think it’s time we goto bed, ladies,” they looked at her curiously but not before noticing theunexpected company above.
“I can’t wait to put on mynew silk pyjama shorts,” Katherine teased.
“And what’s a sleepoverwithout a pillow fight?” They all giggled, making their way inside, a deviousplan already forming.
Klaus…
“Pillow fight?” Kolgroaned. “I’m going to literally explode, you know as long as Rebekahdoesn’t partake because that’s going to be more like nightmare material.”
“Satin pyjamas?” Elijahhissed. “Are you kidding me?”
“They’re playing with us,”Klaus conceded, even if his arousal was growing. “They sensed ourpresence.”
“I’m not leaving,” Kolscoffed. “After that pillow fight proclamation, I’m going to need apreview.”
“You’re all sopredictable.”
“Says the Original Hybridwho pretty much sent us here,” Enzo accused. “Don’t tell me Caroline inskimpy pyjamas isn’t…”
He was gone before Enzocould finish his sentence, call him weak or needy but all Klaus knew was heneeded to be near the love of his life.
“I expected you here atleast three minutes earlier,” she murmured, adjusting her brief pyjama set. Thefact the red fabric was barely covering her creamy curves wasn’t an entirelybad thing, even if planned.
“I hate to be sopredictable,” he hissed, moving behind her in the reflection of the mirror andrubbing his hands along her chest, stopping briefly to make circular motionsover her nipples. There was no doubting her arousal as they stuck out from thematerial like delicious treats waiting to be devoured. “But so are you.”
“I told you this waspamper night,” she panted as his motions quickened.
“Funny, I thought that waswhat I was doing, love.” She bit her lip, obviously trying to stifle amoan.
“You scare me,” she said,her breath ragged as he continued his assault on her nipples.
There were so many thingshe expected to hear but not that. She feared him? It was common with hisenemies but the fact the woman he loved felt that way broke him.
He stopped pawing her so intimatelyand turned her around, his hand finding a stray golden wave and coaxing itbehind her right ear affectionately.
“I scare you?” His voicewas barely audible because he was so upset. “I…”
“I love you so much itscares me,” she whispered, her hands finding their way through his dark, blondecurls. He closed his eyes momentarily, revelling in the sensations andrelief.
“Me too,” he mumbled, hismouth finding hers hungrily. Every emotion she’d evoked finding its way intothat intense kiss. They were moaning into each others mouths, their handscovering every inch of skin, bare or covered.
Klaus could have kissedher forever but her words stuck, he pulled away, albeit reluctantly.“Why?”
“This world is new to me,”she explained. “It’s not that I don’t love you, I just need some breathingspace.” Instantly he felt bad for making assumptions and ruining her night withhis selfish and jealous desires.
Even though she was flushagainst him as he ran his hands through those waves, Klaus knew he needed to leave.He allowed his hand to roam free and ran his fingers along her lower lips. She wassaturated and Klaus had to admit he wasn’t upset by that fact. He exploredfurther as she meowed into his ear, before reluctantly disengaging and licking each finger slowly.
“I understand,” he smiled,the huskiness not lost on Caroline. “But tomorrow you’re mine, okay love?”
“I’ll think about it,” shegrinned cheekily. “Get your ass out of here, Mikaelson.”
“You secretly love myass,” he teased, wiggling it slowly for her benefit as he retreated.
“And take all yourbrothers with you too,” she called out. Klaus had felt so isolated and worriedearlier that she didn’t feel the same way but now he was more than comfortablein the fact she needed her space sometimes from the Mikaelson madness.
After all, absence makesthe heart grow fonder, right?
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Read an excerpt from Not Sorry! Now available in the Prophecy of Magic boxed set!
https://books2read.com/PoM-NOLAWars1CD
Chapter 1
Who knew life after death could be so entertaining? Or exhausting.
Had someone told me I’d be spending eternity hunting supernatural beasts, I never would’ve believed them. Especially since I became one.
Just past midnight, I’m waiting in the forest preserves outside Chicago. About a half mile from Lake Arrowhead, this used to be Cook County, Illinois until being overtaken by the neighboring nation of Zion more than thirty years ago. Fortunately, an underground coalition rose up years later, eventually freeing them from Zion rule.
Gods, I hate that place.
After the last civil war, what was left of the country broke into three. Chicago is now part of what we call New America because it’s all that’s left of the former United States. They merged with Canada, and now included most of the bordering states surrounding the North American continent. Up until thirty years ago, Zion ruled most of the south and Midwest before major cities like Chicago and New Orleans fought back. There were many casualties of that war, and I was one of them.
Still sitting in the woods, I’m tired of waiting for my dinner. I’d much rather be out hunting for it. My contact said to expect my prey to show up around midnight, yet it’s ten past. Damn humans.
Staring out into the night, I glance up at the flickering streetlight shining down on the parking lot just outside the trails. Humans don’t really come out here anymore, and the woods are mostly filled with monsters like me. Well, not really. There are no monsters like me.
I pull out a leather-bound notebook from my inside jacket pocket. It holds the names of every vampire that’s not supposed to be here. One by one, I hunt and kill them all, then cross their name off my list. All while searching for the one who turned me.
After the secession, the city of New Orleans and other neighboring states was later renamed NOLA and declared a safe-haven for supernaturals like me. The DSI, Department of Supernatural Investigation, is a secret human group that actually knows about metas. They made an agreement with NOLA, that any vampire found outside its walls is fair game, mostly because our blood lust is uncontrollable and often becomes the very thing that destroys us.
Human lands had been safer since the treaty until vampires decided there wasn’t enough blood in NOLA and started migrating back here.That’s when DSI hired me.
I refused to leave New America, knowing what I stood to lose if I did, so I was allowed to stay under one condition: never feed on a human. I never wanted to be a vampire and I’m a survivor, so I learned to cope.
Girl’s gotta eat.
Since then, I’ve learned that I’m particularly good at two things: Killing vampires and holding a grudge.
Flipping through the worn pages of my notebook, I get to the page with newest names. Ever since the witch queen left to try and stop a supernatural war, all the heathens have crawled out from under their rocks. This latest batch of vamps has been helping the Zions in their human trafficking ploy. Something that’s gotten completely out of hand the second they heard Chicago’s witch savior had skipped town.
Ravenous now, my stomach rumbles as I inhale a trace scent of blood in the air. They’re coming.
With my gaze fixed on the entrance of the parking lot, I close my eyes and listen, focusing on the sound of a car rumbling down the road. It’s still at least a mile away, so I have a little time.I step behind a huge oak tree and wait as a car pulls into the lot. A blonde vamp gets out of a Mercedes, pulls out her cell phone, then makes a call. “Where the hell are you? You’re late. Fine. I’ll wait, but just this once. Next time, you’re out.”
I’m not sure which name this is, with two females on my list, but I don’t really care.
And I’m hungry.
While the vampire is mesmerized by her phone, I move between the trees until I’m standing a few feet away. With a grin, I lunge out from the woods and attack, knocking her to the ground.
“Annaliese.” She says my name as the color drains from her face. I’m not surprised that she knows me. Every vampire here does. They fear me, as they should. “I swear.” She pleads “It’s not what you think. I’m not...”
“I don’t really care,” I say before baring my fangs. “You’re not supposed to be here, and I’m starving.
”Without another word, I sink my teeth into her neck while she thrashes in my grip, pinned down against the pavement beside her shiny luxury car.
“Please.” Her shrilled cry echoes through the still night air, but there’s nobody around to hear her. I stop just short of desiccating the girl. “Stop.”
Killing her wouldn’t be much fun if I did.
Pulling my fangs from her neck, I retract them while swallowing the last of her blood that’s still drizzling down the back of my throat. I let out a sigh and sit up, straddling her waist. I stare into her silver eyes that are dimming with each passing second.
“Any last words… Is it Gina or Renee?”I reach to my side and pull out a sharpened stake from my utility belt, ready to get this over with. She isn’t putting up much of a fight, and I’m super bored.
“What about your family?” she blurts out.
My eyes grow wide. “What did you say?”
“And Mar… I mean, I know who turned you.”
It’s no secret that the very reason I became a vampire assassin was to get my revenge on the one who sired me, but very few knew the reason behind my rage.
Before getting turned, I had a lot to live for. I was a mother. A widowed single mother with a very young daughter who had nobody else but me after my entire family was slaughtered during the last war. But then I was turned. I couldn’t control my bloodlust after that, so I couldn’t be her mother anymore.
Alexis was the reason I refused to leave. Her family–my legacy–they’re the reason I’m still here, and why I fight for humans against the very thing that stole everything from me.
Abandoning my own daughter was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, save for watching Alexis die. I never even got to say goodbye. Instead, I’ve been singularly focused for more than ninety years, searching for the bastard who turned me into the monster I never wanted to become.
“What do you know?”She’s pale, hardly any color left in her clammy skin. “Let me live, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I can get you what you’re looking for.” She gasps for air, typical for a dying vampire. And while her body can regenerate if she feeds, she won’t get very far like this. “Please.”
I debate in my head if I even want to save the bitch. As another two cars near the parking lot, I decide to pause a minute to consider my options.
“Fine.” I growl while I grab her beneath her armpits and drag her off into the woods, hiding her body behind some trees so I can deal with the other two vampires that are coming to meet her.
I drop her body to the ground, sit on top of her once more, then lean into her face. “Don’t say a goddamn word. Do you understand me? If you want to live, you keep your mouth shut while I go eat your friends.”
“They’re not my friends,” she mumbles. “Give me some blood. Please. Just a little.”
“No.” I groan as two cars pull into the parking lot. “Remember what I said. I’ll kill you and your entire family if I hear so much as a peep. Got it?”
She nods as I stand up and move back toward the parking lot, leaves crunching beneath my feet as I run.
Peering out from behind one of the trees, I watch two people get out of their cars and look inside my girl’s Mercedes. Talking amongst themselves, they get nervous since they can’t find her. Clearly, I don’t have much time before they run, so I have to make my move now.
From out of the shadows, I lunge for the guy first. He’ll be the hardest to kill. Not because he’s a man, but because he’s the oldest.
“Vampire hunter.” He groaned as he sees me rushing toward him. “Renee, run.”
“Renee.” I smile at the girl like she’s my arch nemesis. Reaching for her before she takes off, my fingers grip her throat like a vice. With one swift motion, I bash her head into the pavement, so hard, the ground cracks below her.
I kind of love inflicting pain on my victims.
“Sorry,” I say sarcastically, watching her squirm on the ground. “Not.”
Her buddy gasps at the sound of Renee’s skull cracking.
She’s not dead, though. Yet.
Next on my list, Stevie, I think is his name, tries to run. I prefer to give my prey delicacy names. We’ll call Stevie here, Ceviche. Because I’m going to absolutely love sinking my fangs into his raw neck while he flops around like a fish.
Quick on my feet, I reach out and grab his grimy T-shirt enough to pull him back to me, close enough that I can now get all my strength behind me.
Ceviche’s feet slip in an icy puddle, so I take advantage of his clumsiness and shove his shoulders forward, bouncing his head off the passenger side window. Glass shatters everywhere, and the insect’s head starts bleeding, making me even more hungry. If that’s even possible.
While Ceviche tries picking himself up off the ground, I keep hold of his shoulders, forcing his head into the side of Gina’s car, leaving a nasty dent.
Pity. It was such a pretty car, too.
His friend tries getting up, but I hop on top of her, shoving her shoulders to the pavement before baring my teeth and sinking them back into her neck. I drink just enough blood to keep her out of commission, and long enough for me to go back and kill her friend.
For a quick second, I stare at the tramp beneath me, deciding what to name her. It only takes me a second to decide not to change her name. Because I knew a Heather once who was a traitorous bitch, so I’m going to kill this one in effigy.
In the name of all backstabbing Heather’s everywhere.
While Heather is sedated, I return to finish off Ceviche. He’s getting to his feet shakily with one hand on his head. Dark streams of blood run past his fingers enticingly, trailing out of his blond mop of wavy hair. To a human, he’d probably look pretty disgusting. But since I’m a vampire who drinks from other vamps, he looks like a big ass bloodberry milkshake.
My hunger is seriously getting the better of me.
But for now, I just want to satisfy a different kind of bloodlust. I’m pissed off at people who ruin other people’s lives, like these parasites. And the one who ruined mine all those years ago. So while perhaps I don’t have to be as brutal as I’m about to be, I feel no pity.
Girls just want to have fun.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” I wrap my fingers in his hair and pull hard, lifting him straight off the ground, nearly six feet of bloody helplessness. Grabbing his leg with my other hand, I spin him around and toss him into the nearest streetlight.
Gods, I love the strength I have.
The loud snap of his back hitting the wooden pole makes me happy. Guess he won’t be running away again. Definitely won’t be running any captives into Zion. And that makes me ecstatic.
On my way over to the heap of blubbering vampire lying on the ground, I notice a large crack running along the pavement.
“Step on a crack, break Ceviche’s back.” I sing and skip my way closer, then give the fissure a good hefty stomp and watch as a new pothole sinks into the parking lot.
Okay, so I’m a little worked up. Should probably expend some energy. Losing my temper wouldn’t be good for anybody here, me included.
Me raging on vampire blood isn’t a pretty sight.
I dart over to where Ceviche lies on the ground and grab his hand. Lifting and pulling back, I swing the huge lump of asshole around and toss him as hard as I can into Renee’s car. The door caves in and the wreck lifts up on the two opposite wheels, finally tipping over onto the roof.
“Yo, Dracula Barbie, sorry ‘bout your car, girl,” I yell over my shoulder. “I scratched it a little.”
Peering into the upside-down wreck, I giggle when I see one of his arms and his head have detached from the rest of him.
“Shame. I wasted a perfectly good asshat.”
I’m surprisingly winded as I stare at Ceviche’s broken body, though I’m also impressed with my masterpiece, effectively having dismembered the vamp. Inhaling a breath, I crouch down and plunge my favorite stake into his chest, since he’s not really dead until I do. My black soul sings as his eyelids flutter closed and the last glimpse of life drains away.
Don’t feel sorry for Ceviche or his friends. They’ve been helping the Zions kidnap innocent girls, forcing children to become brides and breeders for the Zion vermin. And feeding off the captives, of course. There’s no love for them—Stevie got exactly what he deserved, as will Dracula Barbie and Heather, who are next on my list.
I catch my breath while strolling over to finish Heather off, who’s still lying beside the grass, barely breathing.
Not really hungry anymore, I hover over her and stare for a minute, wondering how any woman could do what she’s done, vampire or not.
Heather glances up at me and stares. Guilt. Remorse.
Good.
“So disappointing.” I pull a stake from my belt and step over her, then crouch down. “Any woman who would betray her own sisters they way you have deserves an agonizing death.” I pull up with little effort, then gleefully press the stake into her heart. “Tell Lucifer I said hey.”
She gasps for air; her red hunter eyes dim before what’s left of her fades away. Her skin turns a chalky grey and shrivels before finally desiccating.
Since it’s easier to get rid of two bodies at once, I drag Heather’s corpse and toss it on top of Ceviche’s, who’s lying on Renee’s car. I strike a match then drop it, watching the vampires’ bodies burn and crumble into nothing but a pile of ash at my feet.
From my inside jacket pocket, I pull out my little black book and strike out their names from my list. Ready to strike out Renee’s, I stomp back into the woods to find the girl who has a lead on my sire.
When I get into the woods, however, the ungrateful hussy is gone. I don’t know if she’s still alive, if someone’s killed her off, or if she recovered somehow and skedaddled. It’s more likely than not that she’s still somewhere in the woods, so I begrudgingly stalk into the forest preserves to find her.
Miles and miles of woods later, I come up empty-handed. That’s what I get for not killing first and asking questions later.
Incensed now, I trudge back to the parking lot and raid the vamps’ cars, taking anything that could be of use to me later. The first two cars are a bust except for some pot.
The Mercedes belonging to Renee, however, has the girl’s cell phone with several names I recognize. Luckily it didn’t get all smashed up like Ceviche. So I pull out my cell and call my contact to let him know one got away, but before I can even dial the number, my cell lights up in my hand.
“DSI needs you to go to NOLA and retrieve something. If you do this, I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
“What do you want?”
“We need the witch back. Things are out of hand, and the country won’t survive without her.”
“First of all, that witch went to NOLA to stop a war, what makes you think she’d care about yours? And second, you know as well as I do that if I step foot in NOLA, I may as well sign my own death certificate.”
“What if I could protect you?”
I laugh out loud. “From a nation of angry vampires? Doubtful.”
“I know people, Erhardt.”
Shaking my head, I stand silent for a minute before answering. There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t go to NOLA and just as many why I don’t want to.
Before I can finish my own thoughts, he drops a line so tempting, I can’t say no.
“What if I could give you the answer you seek?”
“Which is?”
“I know who turned you.”
“Don’t toy with me, human. And what’s going on tonight? You’re the second person to say that and not tell me the answer. Now I’m losing my damn patience. I know I said I’d never eat your kind, but if you’re pulling my leg, so help me, I’ll rip you to shreds.”
“I’m not, I swear. We’re desperate here. We need Adrien, and you need answers. Win-win. I know someone, a voodoo priestess, who can give you them. Give us what we need, and we’ll give you what you want. Do we have a deal?”
Staring up at the flickering streetlamp, I contemplate my options. I can’t imagine going to the supernatural mecca of the world and leaving there alive.
Here in New America, my country, I’m secretly revered as the guardian who rids their nation of bloodthirsty heathens, but to the vampires seeking refuge in New Orleans–the community that I refused to claim–I am the traitor. So while the idea of going to NOLA isn’t appealing, completing my quest is.
Then I can get someone to stake me, and put an end to this miserable vampire existence once and for all.
“Fine.” I relent. “I’ll go to NOLA. Two weeks. If you don’t get me what I want by then, I’ll make sure you never see your girlfriend again.”
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Warnings: spoilers galore, careless language, maybe inappropriate jokes
I watched the season premiere on Saturday and since then had been debating with myself whether to write a review for this spectacular opening of a new season. You see, last season I wrote a review for each episode and though it certainly had its fun, it was a bit tiring as well. Scratch it, much tiring. And being the lazy ass I am, I don’t really want to relive that ‘pain’. Still, my affection for this show is running strong and the newest episode definitely deserves some attention, so here is my thoughts (or rant):
Ooh, New Orleans. How I miss thy sights. How long has it been? 10 months?
Never realized I actually miss Vincent’s voice. Love the way the episode begins with his voice over on Nola scenes. My friend who watched with me thought his cadence was “poetic”, to use her word.
So, they indeed have an anniversary for the fall of the Mikaelsons. Nola residents sure have a weird way to ‘pay respect’ to the founders of their city.
Even better, a special event is held annually so that ‘tourists’ can witness the suffering of Klaus Mikaelson. What kind of tourists? Those with fangs, of course (and fancy cars that usually have a fresh, bleeding human corpse as accessory).
This vampire looks familiar somehow. Oh, I remember her. Sofya. The one-episode guest star in the previous season. I did remark that she kinda looked like Bex; maybe someone heard that and decided to change her look. Now she’s a brunette. Her profession remains unchanged however.
And now she’s working for Marcel and maybe hooking up with him. Beware, Marcellus, for Bex is coming back to town and she can be intensely jelly.
On the other hand I don’t think we’re in need of a love-triangle subplot.
But if they’re going that way then I guess it just have to roll with it.
Oh Klaus. And his Fifty Shades in Chains. Who knows? It may be the title of the next instalment of the Fifty Shades of… Whatever.
He even has a collar! Damn Marcel is kinky. Just not sexy-kinky.
And that’s about 5 minutes into the season premiere perhaps?
Hayley sure has a night cozy house in the middle of nowhere. I wonder how she got it, by compulsion or the Mikaelsons’ money.
Guess not all the money has gone to Caroline Salvatore’s school. Ha-ha. (I’m being sarcastic btw.)
Yeah, the romantic-but-morbid-but-still-romantic scene in the trailer.
Look, look. Hope’s big girl now and she’s wearing that magic-restraining bracelet in the second season. Nice come back.
That means she hasn’t used magic once in 5 years? Hope she’ll get the hang of it quickly when the bracelet’s taken off because Auntie Freya’s gonna teach her a lot of badass shit.
Mary! Dear old same Mary who’s still salty with the Mikaelsons after all these years. Please don’t spread your saltiness to the little girl; they’re her family who all love her.
… which is what Hayley is quick to reinforce. Hayley f*cking Mikaelson.
Determined Hayley is the best Hayley. Glad last season she finally picked a side.
Josh… Not sure how I feel about thee… I mean thee are nice and all but…
Hah, my guess is right!!! Marcel has removed Papa Tunde’s blade from Klaus.
So, Klaus is like Marcel’s secret counselor or something?
Alistair Dupence(?). Did I get his last name right? Oh well, whatever. Just another item in Klaus’s never-ending list of enemies.
… who barges in the city and starts making demands. Hello, upgraded Original there. What makes you think he won’t play dirty and bite you somewhere nobody sees (double entendre very much intended).
His accent is more memorable than his person actually.
Srsly, after 5 years and he hasn’t found Hayley and Hope and the slumbering Mikaelsons? C’mon she hasn’t even left the country! Aren’t your resources a failure? I guess Hayley’s really good at covering her track and laying low but still…
And he throws the gauntlet! Wonderful. Mano a mano. Man to man… except put Klaus in chains and starve him beforehand pretty please?
That Hayley and Hope’s hug though.
Hayley’s in a black dress. OK, I’m so used to seeing her in shirts, jeans, leather jacket and boots that this new look is… startling. Looks very good on her though. Don’t get me wrong, but she can wear that dress at both a funeral and a nightclub.
I have a feeling she dresses to attract her prey’s attention…
… who is Keelin, a wolf. Is this the bisexual wolf I’ve heard rumors about?
Hayley doesn’t waste a second, doesn’t she? After five years she’s become very vigilant.
Let’s see… dimly lit, pretty dirty place: check, bondage: check, crazy contraption that’s likely to cause pain: check and check. I wonder why this place reminds me so much of Saw.
But Hayley doesn’t want to play; she’s in for business…
… which is gathering Keelin’s venom and waking sleeping beauty Freya up.
That Hayley and Freya’s hug.
I guess Freya’s so accustomed to this sleeping-for-years-and-then-up-and-walking shit she doesn’t waste a moment for her stiff, lethargic muscles to flex and goes straight to work. That’s big sis for ya!
Hayley VS Alistair’s lackeys. Hayley: 1, Alistair’s lackeys: 00000000 (can I add the zeros to infinity??)
Her f*cking wolf form though. ♫♫♫♫ Who let the wolf out? ♫♫♫♫
But the most gruesome awesome kill goes to…… Freya Mikaelson. Srsly brain melting? That’s a novelty.
She probably has so much energy pent up in her. Poor that vamp dude. Next time buy a life insurance. That way your wife and kids will get compensation.
Once again this show proves women are a force to be reckoned with.
Klaus VS Alistair (plus crowd). Klaus: 0, Alistair: 1. Some ranting on Alistair’s part later… Klaus: 1, Allistair: 000000…
See the similarities?
I seriously think Klaus should expand his diet to vampire blood as well. I mean Alistair’s full of healthy blood; why doesn’t Klaus just sucks him dry? He’s been pretty starving, hasn’t he?
“Meet…… your…… maker.”
Too bad Marcel has to choose this very moment to be a dickwad. Why, Marcel, why?
Marcel’s boast kinda gets on my nerves.
“You want more?”
Hayley’s making badass taunt while standing in her gloriously nude form. I’m fine. I’m so fine. Are all wolves natural naturalists?!
Elijah’s really the expert in creepy killing. Is this a throwback to the pilot where he killed all those vamps who were ganging up on Sophie?
Haylijah reunion.
The kiss! I’m not a Haylijah shipper but still…
Vincent mentions Cami and Klaus immediately shuts up his threats. “You stayed my hand and quelled my rage” indeed.
Even better, Cami will make an appearance in the next episode!
“When it comes to my family’s safety, I don’t negotiate.” Mikael’s beloved daughter speaking.
“After all this time…” “Me too.” They really don’t need many words, don’t they?
“A child after my own heart.” The moment they will get to meet Hope will be s-p-e-c-t-a-c-u-l-a-r!!!
And now they’re going back for Klaus!
Kinda agree with Klaus about Marcel’s not escaping his shadow and being weak. Kinda feel bad Klaus gets daggered for that. “Why’re you so hell-bent on proving him right, Marcel?” to parody Vincent’s words.
Overally, a good episode and a strong start for the season. Looking forward to the next episode.
[Rant] Gather Up the Killers – The Originals 4×01 Warnings: spoilers galore, careless language, maybe inappropriate jokes I watched the season premiere on Saturday and since then had been debating with myself whether to write a review for this spectacular opening of a new season.
#elijah mikaelson#freya mikaelson#hayley marshall#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#marcel gerard#original groupies#the mikaelsons#the originals
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With Changing Status and New Ingredients, the Sazerac Is the Best Yardstick for Modern Cocktail Culture
No one event in American history had a greater negative impact on drinking culture than Prohibition. Though America went “dry” for just 13 years, it took decades before the country regained an appreciation for the finer aspects of wine, beer, and spirits. If we look for similar events that propelled us back onto the right track, in wine, we might point to the Judgment of Paris. In beer, it’s impossible to look past the legalization of homebrewing. And in spirits, which seemed to lag longest, all credit must go to the craft cocktail renaissance of the late ‘90s and early 2000s.
Exactly how far cocktail culture has evolved since then is harder to measure. Anecdotally, I think about how I can walk into most bars in my decidedly unhip neighborhood of Queens, New York — locales you might not consider dive bars, but that don’t sling craft cocktails, either — and order an Old Fashioned with some degree of confidence.
But is there a more accurate way to gauge our progress? Rather than looking only at the quality of bartending in general, if we dial in to the ingredients used to make certain classics, perhaps the Sazerac is a better yardstick by which to measure how far we’ve come.
Multiple factors contribute to the Sazeracs of 2021 having a higher ceiling for quality and being even more historically accurate than those stirred at the turn of the century. Absinthe didn’t become legal again in the U.S. until 2007, for example. Then there’s the rye category, which has exploded both in breadth and depth. While the Sazerac is not solely responsible for these factors, given that both ingredients are intrinsic to its preparation, the cocktail is hugely symbolic of how drinking culture has progressed.
A New Orleans Icon
The Sazerac may not quite place in the highest echelon of classic cocktails, alongside the likes of the Martini, Manhattan, and Old Fashioned, but an icon it undoubtedly remains. The official cocktail of New Orleans (though not Louisiana, as is often erroneously stated), and widely held as one of the oldest cocktails, period, the Sazerac arrives with the requisite historical baggage that adds color to any classic — because beyond tasting good, the canons of cocktail culture must have a good story to tell.
In the realm of the Sazerac, that story revolves around one question: Is it historically a Cognac- or rye-whiskey-based drink?
This source of contention continues to provide fodder for divisive, if niche, barstool debates. Yet even those who remain firmly planted in the Cognac camp would surely concede that for the majority of its existence, the Sazerac has been more closely associated with rye. This association is handy for the purposes of this piece, allowing us to explore the stunning metamorphosis of the historic whiskey style during the past few decades.
The Rye Resurgence
While it continues to lag well behind bourbon, rye consistently posts impressive growth. In 2009, volume sales sat at just 88,000 9-liter cases, accounting for $15 million in revenue for suppliers, according to data from the Distilled Spirits Council. Since then, the category has surged. Volumes increased a whopping 1,500 percent to 1.4 million 9-liter cases in 2020, with the value hitting $275 million.
At the New Orleans bar Cure, which is widely credited with pioneering the craft cocktail movement in the city, the team has a saying relating to the city’s patron cocktail: “Nothing’s sacred except for maybe the Sazerac.”
Neal Bodenheimer, the bar’s owner and co-chair of the Tales of the Cocktail Foundation, therefore struck me as an ideal individual to explore my hypothesis with. He was quick to agree on the significance of the legality of absinthe, and also pointed out the ease with which one can now pick up a bottle of the cocktail’s signature bitters. “You used to have to seek out Peychaud’s; now you can get them anywhere in the world,” he says.
But on the topic of rye, Bodenheimer hastened to accept my theory that the quality and quantity on offer has never been better. While the field has undoubtedly widened, he says he could pick up a bottle of six-year bonded Old Rittenhouse for around $11 in the mid-aughts. As the popularity of rye has grown, he feels the quality and age of the liquor inside the bottle is not quite what it used to be — though this does again speak to the surging popularity of rye compared with a decade or so prior.
“It may be possible to customize your selection more, but because of the low demand, you could grab a quality rye with a little more ease 13 years ago,” Bodenheimer says. On the other hand, he notes that the most exciting developments taking place in the rye space now come via craft distillers — a notion that some might feel would have been laughable two decades ago.
Photo Credit: Cure
Chris Hannah offers a different stock phrase when discussing the Sazerac: “I like to say it’s consistently the most inconsistently made cocktail in the world,” he tells me. “It has a recipe. Everyone knows the recipe. But everybody makes their own version.”
Hannah moved to New Orleans 18 years ago from Baltimore, where he’d already clocked up six years working behind the stick. This experience, he thought, qualified him as a “proper” bartender. Then he arrived in the Big Easy and found drinks he’d never heard of (the Sazerac) made with ingredients that weren’t on the back bars of the restaurants he’d previously worked at (rye whiskey).
Hannah’s contribution to the endurance of the Sazerac in New Orleans is up there with anyone in the city, having worked at the legendary Arnaud’s French 75 Bar for 15 years before leaving to open NOLA’s Jewel of the South. Though he falls into the Cognac camp, he agrees with Bodenheimer on the modern-day importance of the quality rye being put out by some, if not all, smaller producers. “Knowing that these distillers can come out with an equal or superior product is keeping the bigger houses on their toes and not resting on their laurels,” he says.
And resting on their laurels they most certainly are not. Look at any major American distillery and there’s a high chance it’s introduced a rye to its lineup in recent times. In the last year alone, Heaven Hill added a rye to its core Elijah Craig line; Campari, which already offered a Wild Turkey Rye, debuted a Rare Breed rye extension; meanwhile, Old Forester introduced a single-barrel, cask-strength rye. Put simply, all the trends we’ve seen play out in bourbon over the past two decades are now also seeping into the rye world.
“Our rye category offerings have grown [in] volume over 300 percent over the past 10 years, and we have been adding to our rye whiskey mash bill inventory in aging barrels to accommodate for that,” Susan Wahl, vice president of American whiskeys at Heaven Hill, writes in an email.
Raising the Bar
Wahl is among many in the industry I’ve communicated with (for this and other features) who credit the craft cocktail renaissance with directly impacting the health of American whiskey. “A return to classic cocktails certainly gave renewed attention to rye whiskey,” she notes.
Though perhaps not notable within the realm of evolving cocktail and spirits culture, we can not move on from rye without mentioning the Sazerac brand. To my mind, no other cocktail exists for which drinkers can directly reach for a base spirit whose brand shares the same name as the drink. (Martini drinkers should note that I’m speaking base spirits, specifically.)
Once again, this is another example of the bar industry’s influence on the spirits field, as Rhiannon Enlil of the Sazerac Company explained to me.
Enlil is another New Orleans transplant who moved to the city in 2000. On top of years of experience working in the city’s bars, she also wrote her undergrad thesis on historic beverage trends of 20th-century New Orleans, while studying at the city’s university in 2016. Since 2019, she’s worked as an experience team leader at the Sazerac House.
“When the Sazerac company launched Sazerac rye in 2006, it was really to put that name on a bottle of wonderfully produced whiskey, and get it in the hands of New Orleans bartenders,” she says. During her studies, Enlil also found that, while the cocktail saw a revival in major cities beginning in the mid- to late-aughts, this wasn’t the case in NOLA. “It never went away in New Orleans. It just went under the radar,” she says.
Photo Credit: Sazerac
Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
With ever-expanding rye options, and the increasing availability of Peychaud’s, the final piece of the Sazerac puzzle arrived in 2007 with the legalization of absinthe.
Here, we risk a certain amount of hypocrisy. For while it is true that the bonafide Sazerac recipe contains absinthe, the same could be said for Cognac. And just as rye has overtaken brandy’s place in the cocktail, with the green fairy being illegal stateside for nearly all of the 20th century, most bartenders turned to New Orleans’ anise-flavored Herbsaint liqueur as a stand-in. The same remains true in many notable bars to this day.
Owned and produced by the Sazerac Company — just like Sazerac Rye and Peychaud’s Bitters — Herbsaint even enjoyed an upgrade in 2009, with its alcohol bumped up to 100 proof to commemorate the brand’s 75th anniversary. (And no doubt to compete with the higher-proof, now legal absinthes that bartenders could return to.)
Still, the legalization of absinthe feels significant for this topic because its availability has allowed bartenders to once again deliver a historic version of the cocktail that they couldn’t for nearly 100 years. That the TTB would finally look past the myths that had seen it banned owes large credit to the work of importer, producer, historian, and scientist Ted Breaux. It also signals another step in the (slow) maturation of America’s relationship with alcohol.
Just as with rye, viewing the range of absinthes now on offer in the U.S. also highlights the growth of craft distilling in the country. Alan Bishop has had a hand in a number of those bottlings, having developed four absinthes for Kentucky’s Copper and Kings, another for Florida’s Key West Trading Co., and a few expressions for Indiana’s Spirits of French Lick, where he currently works as head distiller.
Given the spirit’s recent reintroduction in the U.S. market, Bishop has tended toward a lighter, sweeter style of absinthe that he believes better resonates with American drinkers. But things are slowly changing on that front. “We’re finally at a phase where consumers outside of New Orleans actually care about absinthe,” he says, adding that interest seems to have really picked up over the past two years, and the past 12 months in particular.
Bishop also agrees that bartenders helped “open the door” for craft spirits in general. “Now I think curious consumers are kicking the shit out of the door and figuring out what to do with them on their own,” he says.
The Changing Status of the Sazerac
While the Sazerac’s relevance in this study of drinking culture evolution comes largely via its constituent ingredients, we should not look past the drink itself. It’s definitely not as ubiquitous as Martinis, Manhattans, and Old Fashioneds, and it surely remains “consistently inconsistently” made. But at the same time, no longer can budding bartenders wind up in New Orleans with no prior knowledge of the city’s official cocktail — nor any other major city worth its bartending salt, for that matter.
At New York’s Maison Premiere, a love letter to New Orleans, oysters, absinthe, and classic cocktails, managing partner and bar director William Elliott pondered just how much has changed for the Sazerac in the decade since his bar opened.
In 2011, the cocktail would have been the “perfect litmus test” for gauging the skills of any bartender who turned up at his door looking for a job, Elliott says. At the time, not all bar chefs would have gained the required experience to execute the cocktail’s fine line of balance. “I don’t think any bartender would try to work here without being confident in their skills to make a Sazerac at this point,” he says.
For guests, Maison Premiere also offers a “Tableside Sazerac Service.” The bar offers two versions of the cocktail, prepared theatrically in front of patrons. A rye version sells for $34, while the other, made with vintage Cognac from 1946, super-premium absinthe, and barrel-aged Peychaud’s, retails at $96 a pop. “It actually sells quite well considering it’s a hundred-dollar drink,” Elliot says.
Take a moment to let that sink in, as drinkers of the “St. Bernard” Sazerac no doubt remind themselves after each sip. And while you do, soak up the words of NOLA’s Hannah on the progress of his profession: “When I started bartending,” he says, “I never thought I’d be in a magazine.”
That’s a hell of a long way for bar culture to travel in a relatively short amount of time. Twenty years ago, were there cocktails in New York City that would see next to no change given for a crisp Benjamin Franklin? Almost certainly, yes. But at a bar in Brooklyn, that didn’t cater specifically to expense-account-holding finance bros?
Above all, the fact that one of America’s oldest cocktails is the measure by which we can gauge just how far we’ve come in 15, 20 years seems like a fittingly romantic notion. Cocktails owe just as much to their story as their taste, after all. For large parts of the cocktail renaissance, our collective gaze remained firmly and long into the past. But drinks like the Sazerac show us that more recent history, the present, and even the future, are just as important in these tales.
The article With Changing Status and New Ingredients, the Sazerac Is the Best Yardstick for Modern Cocktail Culture appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/sazerac-history-modern-cocktail-culture/
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