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Those of you who ask "What's all this about pub crawls and cider tasting? What about the cocktails?" ask justly. The author is not the most consistent of social animals; his orbit is what you might call eccentric, perhaps even decaying... Though in periods so gradually diminishing as to be indetectable over the life of the body, he hopes. Occasionally he takes a few more turns around the brighter stars, the places of light and life, in order to take in the warmth he cannot emit.

And so, finally we swing back to the subject of cocktails and the Official Mixer's Manual. The next on the list is the Claridge Cocktail: in my version the star is Stone Barn Brandy Works apricot liqueur, a delightful surprise in a category that promises little more than artificial colors and sweetness. Stone Barn's concoction is anything but predictable and sweet; the liquid has a beautiful, sunny orange color, with a lightness in the nose and a refreshing tartness. Even the bottle is attractive, an elegant, elongated shape with a stylish label.

The second important ingredient is the gin; in this case, the only stuff in the house was the Hendrick's gin in the squat black bottle, an excellent spirit, though perhaps not quite as adaptable as Gordon's London Dry. I added four tablespoons of the gin, two of the apricot liqueur, two of Cinzano's dry vermouth, and two of Cointreau. This was poured over ice and stirred thoroughly, then strained into a glass. I added a cherry.

The result was very agreeable; not particularly complex, but light and sweet without a syrupy undertone and with a pleasant citrus flavor. Celeste found it a bit too predictable, but in cocktails, predictably pleasant is not always a disadvantage. It's definitely not what you'd call a masculine drink; it is the sort of flavor that glorifies an ebullient mood and comments ironically on a deflated one.

Here's the recipe as printed in the manual: "1/3 gin, 1/3 french vermouth, 1/6 apricot brandy, 1/6 cointreau. Stir well in ice and strain. Add a cherry. "

You may notice that the recipe calls for apricot brandy, yet I used apricot liqueur. In the great majority of instances, older recipes specify apricot brandy when they mean an apricot liqueur. This means that a neutral spirit is blended with syrup to create a sweet, usually heavier drink, as opposed to a brandy or eau de vie, a normally clear spirit that takes its flavor solely from the distilled fruit; they are light and can be almost medicinal in their dryer forms. Common examples are grappa and slivovitz plum brandy. This rule holds for many other older mentions of fruit "brandies". See the Cocktail DB for more information on this confusing usage.

On the subject of cherries: Mr. Duffy has specified a green cherry in his recipe for Zombies. I have never seen such a thing except in the online marketplace. Does anybody know a local source for this garnish? It's a drink I would like to rehabilitate, but in order to put it in context and establish a starting point for my deviation, the proper thing seems to follow the earliest recipe I can find, in this case Mr. Duffy's.

Another cherry: the chocolate-covered variety, the sort of thing you see at the holidays and in German groceries. You can also drink it at Bushwhacker. Their variety is liquid and is packaged in a pint glass; it is a delicious compound of a rich chocolate stout and Blue Mountain cherry cider. Go down at your next opportunity and have at least one.

Pub Crawl

We had a wonderful time. I had the honor to join Noelle and Celeste at Bushwhacker after some errands of my own. The crowd was almost frightening, with more crammed in the little garage than I've ever seen. Strange and poignant to think how cavernous the room looked when we came in for our first drink and wondered if they would make it past the first month of operation. The deafening noise of happy and engaged drinkers tells us for certain that that time of uncertainty is over. We sampled an excellent, officially unavailable cider, Burro Loco, with a musty, down-home kind of flavor. This only because we were fortuitously close to Jeff and Erin, the proprietor/operators, when they found a moment to pour themselves a drink.

We escaped to Stone Barn Brandy Works (location on Google maps, website), where the very personable owner showed us their brand-new German still and talked about heads and rye whiskey. Their own is excellent and clear because it does not age in a barrel. Celeste bought a bottle of a very tart and mysterious apricot liquer (bottle, label) and we sampled maybe a half-dozen other offerings. Please visit these people and buy their spirits; it's almost too good to be true that a small distiller and cider maker are this close together and it's our responsibility as thirsty Portlanders to maintain a good consumer-producer relationship with them.

Then it was on to Beermongers on SE 12th (Google maps, site). This place, too, was filled with noisy Saturday-night walla and we were forced into the ghetto behind the main space, near the bathroom. Never mind, they had one of my new favorite beers, Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier, a dark, heavy beer that tastes like a campfire.

At Apex (map, site) I felt it was important to have more German beer and ordered the Spaten Dunkel. Perhaps not the most adventuresome choice, but steady and calming after the giddiness of the rauchbier.

This concluded our tour, after which it was home and time for one more beverage. I made mine a mug full of the very fine Duché de Longueville Antoinette (available at Bushwhacker and Barbur World Foods; if you visit the latter you will find the ciders in their immense but well-hidden beer cooler. Walk to the back of the store behind the drink coolers and you'll find the door). The hangover in the wee hours was intense, but the next morning I was fine. This proves, to me at any rate, that good beverages have a salutary effect when enjoyed in moderation, and in excess are much less likely to torture the penitent. At any rate, I will certainly have cause to repent some time very soon, hopefully with more of you to join me.