Category Archives: alcohol

History Dish Mondays: The Common Ale

Posted on by

A post for you brewers out there: my friend Pete recently recreated a long-lost 19th century brew fermented from corn. He writes:


“Behold, beer fans. The beer pictured to the left is the Cream Common or Present Use Ale, a beer
brewed with lager yeast (bottom fermenting), but at ale temperatures (55-75 degrees). This is not uncommon for a style of the 1800’s — in fact, the Steam beer, known as the California Common to non-Anchor breweries is done the same way. I believe this was done to give beer fans something to drink while waiting for their lagers, the favored beer style of the time. This beer was very popular in the midwest, and was known as a “common” due to the ordering style of the time. If you asked for an Ale, it was likely that this was what you got, unless the establishment also made their own beer. In that case, you got a “Rare Ale”, which was completely different than the “Common” style of the region.


The recipe taken from here and interpreted into a much more readable recipe was a very simple brew. With 7 lbs. of base malt — in this case, American two row malt, a very simple, clean tasting malt — added to 3lbs of flaked maize gave a very corny scent. If you’ve ever smelled the water left over after making steamed corn on the cob, you’ve smelled how this beer smelled while mashing, and understand why I didn’t want to drink something that smelled that terrible.

Thankfully, when hops were added (another American hop that would have been around at that time, Liberty, a noble hop with a very balanced smell as well as aroma. It’s not too hoppy as an IPA would be, and it’s not so weak as to just blend into the background.) the smell changed, considerably. The sweetness of the sugar in the corn took over, and mixed with the hops, the beer turned from boiled corn water to a delicate corn flan, with notes of cornbread in the boil.

Two weeks later, I put it in a keg and forgot about it for a week and half, to allow the beer to come up to gas, as well as give it time to mellow. Beer taken directly from the fermenter into a keg is drinkable, but, tastes green. The flavor profile never has time to develop, and as a result, the beer is a mishmash of what it’s flavor is going to end up being, the notes of the chord so to speak, woefully out of tune.

Now that it’s come together, the taste is wonderful. I imagine this as what the Busch, Miller and Coors families were inspired by in the Midwest. The nose is sweet, very unbeerlike with an effervescence not unlike a champagne. The taste is very earthy, and there’s a piquant balance of the hop, maize and malt which swirl on the tongue in an almost sweet way. This is definitely not a savory beer, something strong and manly. At just 4.8% ABV, the beer is smooth, and quaffable, and with each sip, I almost hear a horse whinny as Sam plays something on the piano in some midwestern tavern somewhere down near Cincinnati.

This beer will very likely become my lawnmower beer — that is to say the beer that I do some yard work and reward myself with a somewhat weak but tasty nonetheless beer that’s just a bit better for me than water. It’s likely that if you’re at my house between May and October and ask for an Ale, you’ll feel as though you’ve bellied up to the bar in 1863, too.”


Pete adds as an addendum: “There’s a book called American handy book of the brewing, malting and auxiliary trades. It’s out of print, but freely available on Google books. Unfortunately, the Common vs. Rare bit is anecdotal from a brewing forum I go to. One of the gentlemen is in his seventies, and his grandfather would take him to his local tavern and order the “Common Ale“, and when he had an extra dollar in his pocket, the “Rare Ale”. It could be local to where he grew up (Northern Kentucky) rather than something that was done everywhere.


Here’s another site, which jumpstarted the research on the recipe — http://www.surrealstudio.net/ODanielsBlog/?cat=15 — This could also be the difference between the Common and the Rare — The Kentucky Common is a darker beer, and could have been brewed at different times to make it more “rare”. Unfortunately, lots of the history of this stuff is lost to the aether, thanks to prohibition.”


Thanks for sharing, Pete! I can’t wait to quaff some the next time I’m in Cleveland.

Travelogue: Mt. Vernon

Posted on by

The Whiskey Distillery at Mt Vernon.

On day two of my travels in our nation’s capitol, I piled in the car with my friends Bryan and Katie, and made the drive to George Washington’s home, Mt. Vernon.
It was a spectacularly beautiful fall day, and there was no where I would have rather been that driving along the Potomac with the windows down. The three of us lunched at the Mt. Vernon Inn, which offers “…six intimate dining rooms, two with fireplaces, all with colonial charm, colonial servers, and delicious regional and colonial cuisine.”

I had the “Colonial Turkey Pye,” (the “y” makes it old timey) which was ok, but unimpressive. I think the vegetables were from a frozen bag mix, and it had a giant Ritz cracker hat. Bryan had a cup of peanut soup, which I had tried before at the cafeteria at Gettysburg. I had liked it at Gettysburg, but here it tasted like warm peanut butter. Gross.
The main disappointment was that the menu had foods that could have been eaten in the 18th century, like roasted chicken and corncakes, but the foods weren’t at all different from what we eat today. There wasn’t even an effort to use spices appropriate to the 18th century. It’s dull; I never understood why “historic” restaurants never make the effort to offer interesting, delicious historic food.
We spent a few hours touring the grounds, and took a fairly boring tour of the Mansion itself. The house sees a high volume of visitors each year, and the staff handles this by scooting a continuous line of tourists along a velvet-roped route through the interior of the building, while reciting the interpretation for each space on a continuous loop. You would enter the room at the beginning of the interp, and leave approximately when it would start repeating. It was weird. One fact did catch my attention: Washington died suddenly of an inflammation of the throat, that suffocated him in 36 hours. I got a little freaked out when I felt a cold coming on a few days later.
Next, we went to Mt. Vernon’s second site which features a reconstruction of Washington’s Gristmill and Distillery. I had been looking forward to visiting the recently opened distillery for awhile, and it really was a treat. A knowledgeable interpreter talking us through the distilling process while we toured a truly beautiful building. I learned that in the 18th century, whiskey was made from rye, with a little corn. It was not aged; the entire distilling process took only two weeks before it was casked and sold. The liquor was clear, and our guide described it as tasting surprisingly sweet. Mt. Vernon will begin selling its whiskey sometime in the next year, and I am excited to try it when they do.
The gristmill was also neat, as gristmills are. Every time I stand before a spinning water wheel, and all those gears and grindstones, I’m impressed by human ingenuity. Who thinks of these things??

Looking down from the second floor of the gristmill, to the stream below.
I picked up a little souvenir treat for myself: a 5-ounce block of American Heritage Chocolate, a product of the Historic Division of Mars, that is made from an authentic Colonial recipe. I’m going to use it to make “Chocolet Puffs,” a receipt from a 18th century manuscript that is one of the earliest instances of chocolate being used in another manner than for drinking. If the recipe turns out well, they will be sold at The City Reliquary’s 1st Annual Haveymeyer Sugar Sweets Festival on Saturday. But more on that tomorrow.
See more images from my trip below.

In The News: Bacon Beer Hits the Nation

Posted on by

The New York Times ran this infatuating article on different bacon brews across the country.

The Times also had a rather inspiring article about vacationing in my hometown of Cleveland. Two items of interest in the article are the Velvet Tango Room, a Tremont bar housed in an old speakasy that features home-made bitters and a bevy of classic cocktails; and L’Abatros, the new French restaurant housed in a 19thc carriage house on the Case Western Reserve University campus.
Edible Manhattan reminds us that the Bloody Mary is turning 75 on October 5th; head over to it’s origin point at the St. Regis hotel to get one.
I did a video with The Feedbag at the annual, South American-style pig roast at Il Buco. The prized pigs in the spotlight? An 150 lb Ossabaw and 250 lb Crossabaw (ossabaw crossed with a modern breed). Watch the video to learn more about these breeds, and to see some serious pig fat action.

The 19th Century Pub Crawl a Great Success!

Posted on by

Downing the Original 1864 House Ale at Pete’s Tavern. Photo by Ilana Kohn.

I am pleased to report that the 19th Century Pub Crawl was a rousing success! Over forty people turned out and we covered five bars, from E 4th st. to E 55th. A small group even made it all the way to PJ Clark’s.

We were a motley crew, all ages and backgrounds, brought together by our mutual love of history. Additionally, there were some impressively costumed ladies sporting full 19th century garb, corsets and all. A couple fine gals even came straight from their jobs as historic interpreters at Old Bethpage Village. I don’t think a more convivial group could be found anywhere on the streets of New York that night.

We began our crawl at Swift, a modern bar whose decor and cocktail menu are inspired by the writings of Jonathon Swift. I tried one the bar’s original cocktails, the Captain Gulliver, a combination of Jameson, Ginger beer, and lemon. I had wanted to try the ginger beer, which is so 19th century, but it was non-alcoholic. This cocktail was the perfect solution.

Left: The Captain Gulliver

Next I led the group to McSorely’s, who have been serving their light and dark house brew since their establishment in 1854. The light beer allegedly tastes like cream soda. I ended up not going in: McSorely’s is a cornerstone of drinking at NYU, so the bar was already packed by the time we arrived at 6:30. Half of the crawl decided to stop in, and met up with us later, while the rest of us continued to our third stop, Pete’s Tavern.

Pete’s is also known for the house brew they have served up since 1864. It looks like a dark beer, but tastes like Miller Light. This beer marked a definite turn in my sobriety and in the sobriety of my cohorts.

The interior was beautiful, the bartender gracious, and the staff incredibly tolerant of our drunken antics. I’d stop in Pete’s any day.

Next, we headed down the street to nearby Old Town Bar. At this point, we were famished, so several of us gorged ourselves on the bar’s delicious burgers and fries. I also sent my friend Marc to gather reconnaissance in the men’s bathroom. The marble urinals, “made by Hinsdale in 1910,” are impressive enough that Old Town mentions them on their website. The tavern’s dumbwaiter is also the oldest one operating in the city, and pretty cool to see in action.
Right: The infamous urinals. Overall, a beautiful bathroom.

Lastly, we grabbed a cab and headed uptown to our final destination: PJ Clark’s. After gorging ourselves (again) on a plate of onions rings so crispy they taste like green bean casserole, I noticed that they had an oyster bar. I was thrilled. “How Victorian!” I squealed. In every period source and novel I have read, haughty men are slurping down bivalves by the plateful.

I’d never had an oyster before, so I ordered one for myself and one for Marc. To be honest, I was expecting something squishy and revolting, and misery loves company. We loaded up with condiments and sucked them down, and were surprisingly not disgusted. They just tasted like salt. Or maybe I was wasted.

The spread at PJ Clark’s.

Eating my first oyster. I look enthused.

My evening ended by climbing into a cab bound for Queens. Upon arriving home, I left a trail of my clothing and personal items from my front door to my bed, where I promptly passed out. The next morning, I felt as though I had been struck by a moving carriage. If this were the 19th century, I’d be one step away from McGurk’s.

To see more photos from the event, swing by our group on Flickr here. And if you’re a Flickr member, and attended the event, feel free to add your own photos to our group pool.

We’re already planning another crawl this spring, following the bars on Manhattan’s west side that formerly served the harbor’s sailors, seamen, and other rugged sorts. And is New York the only city where a woman can wear an 1860’s dress with punk-red hair and not be looked at twice? We’re going to find out, because we’re bringing the Crawl to Boston. Stay tuned for more news.

On a personal note…

Posted on by


I want to let you in on a few things going on in my life. First, I wanted to show off my gorgeous new pinner apron, made for me by Eva of Circa 1850 and The New York Nineteenth Century Society. She hand-sewed my golden pinner using a pattern from a period source, The Workwoman’s Guide, published in 1840. I am so excited to break this baby in. I love pinners. They look so smart.

Second, here’s my second video with Eric at Fancyfastfood.com. We visited New York’s Miss. Softee, one of the few ice cream gals in the city. You can follow here on Twitter to get updates on her current location and specials for the day: http://twitter.com/miss_softee Stop by her truck soon, she’s only open until the end of September!

Lastly, the 19th Century Pub Crawl is next Saturday, the 19th.

Cocktail Hour: Peach Brandy

Posted on by

Ok, I have to say upfront that I was underwhelmed, and a little disappointed, by the results of my Peach Brandy experiment.

Upon my return from the 49th state, I took my mason jar filled with mashed peaches and brandy out of the fridge. Things look good, so I strained it: first through a colander, then through a double layer of cheesecloth. I began straining it through a coffee filter, but eventually lost patience, and decided what little sediment was left could remain in the brew without an adverse affect.
At this point, the brandy was surprisingly thick and syrupy, and did have a slightly sweet, slightly peachy taste. Master bartender Jerry Thomas’ recipe recommends sweetening the infusion with simple syrup, but I decided against it. The cocktails I planned to mix already included a sweetener, and I’ve heard before (from IMBIBE! author David Wondrich) that Victorians liked their drinks very, very sweet. So I left it.
I capped my mason jar and slipped it in my purse, heading off to meet my test audience at a gathering at my boyfriend’s house. I mixed two cocktails, both from Thomas’ book: The Original Georgia Mint Julep, which I mixed using two parts Kentucky bourbon and one part peach brandy; and the Peach and Honey.
I had suspected the flavor of the peach brandy would come alive with a bit of sweetness, so I was really looking forward to the Peach and Honey. I dissolved the honey in a bit of water at the bottom of a rocks glass, added ice cubes, and poured the brandy over top. I tasted it–and I really wasn’t thrilled. It was ok, but I felt the taste of the honey was overwhelming, not complimentary.
And tragically, the peach flavor was almost undetectable in the Julep. The brandy was served best simply over ice, where the gentle peach flavors could be fully appreciated. But even then…I’m not yet certain why the liqour was a let down for me. I think I would try this project again with bourbon instead of brandy.

Cocktail Hour: Jerry Thomas’ Own Bitters

Posted on by

I would say that there are two schools of cocktail mixing in New York right now: those who create the cocktails of tomorrow, and those who strive to recreate the imbibements of the past.

I was at an event a few days ago, where a bartender mixed a drink in which he used “Jerry Thomas’ own recipe bitters.” I’ve dug up the recipe, and I invite the more adventurous among you to give this tincture a try. Thomas suggests serving his bitters as a sort of infused rum; if you’d like to use this recipe in mixed drinks, I would recommend infusing a higher proof alcohol like Everclear. For more on the logistics of preparing bitters, refer to this excellent article.
***
“Jerry Thomas'” own Decanter Bitters

From How To Mix Drinks, by Jerry Thomas (1862)

1 Ib of raisins
2 ounces of cinnamon
1 ounce snake root
1 lemon and 1 orange cut in slices
1 ounce of cloves
1 ounce allspice

Fill decanter with Santa Cruz rum. Bottle and serve out in pony glasses. As fast as the bitters is used fill up again with rum.

***

*The one problem with the recipe is that snakeroot is highly poisonous; in the 19th century, cows who grazed in wooded areas would eat this toxic plant, and their milk would in turn become toxic. The farmers and their families who drank it came down with “milk sickness,” and were stricken with vomiting and diarrhea. The affliction claimed thousands of lives, most notable Abraham Lincoln’s mother. However, I suspect the death rate was not so much result of the poisoning itself, but because the medical world was yet unaware of the importance of replacing a lost fluids. It was not uncommon for sickly babies to poop themselves to death.
Perhaps snakeroot is safer in smaller concentrations, I don’t know. But please, for the sake of my conscience, don’t mess around with it.


History Dish Mondays: Peach Brandy

Posted on by

I have long dreamed of making peach brandy from scratch, a key component of my favorite summer-time drink: The Mint Julep. Too long have I made-do with “Mr. Boston.” The time is right for plump, ripe peaches, so I am seizing the day and attempting to infuse my own peach brandy.

I consulted Jerry Thomas for guidance:

I took two large, very ripe peaches, and smushed them up good, skins and all , with the bottom of a rocks glass. I spooned them into a mason jar, and then filled the jar with brandy to the top. I mixed it around a little bit to ensure a happy marriage of brandy and peach. Thomas recommends letting the mixture macerate for 24 hours, which means in the future this mixture could be made on relatively short notice. However, I’m going to Alaska tomorrow morning for two weeks. How could letting it sit a little longer possibly hurt? It could only improve the flavor, right??

So I’ve just covered the jar, and pushed it to the back of the fridge. See you in two weeks, Peach Brandy! When I return, I will strain the liquid, and mix some cocktails.

Save the Date: The 19th Century Pub Crawl

Posted on by

Are you in New York? Do you like history? Do you like alcohol? Then put this on your calendar:


Come join us for a full night of nineteenth-century debauchery at several of New York City’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice.

We will meet promptly at 5 PM in front of the Merchant’s House Museum (29 East 4th Street). Our evening will commence at Swift, then proceed to Death & Company; McSorely’s Old Ale House; Pete’s Tavern; Old Town Bar; Keen’s Steakhouse; and, should we still possess the fortitude and sobriety, P.J. Clarke’s.

Stay tuned for more details…

Retronovated Recipes: The Frozen Mint Julep

Posted on by

I’ve concocted this recipe based on Jerry Thomas’ “The Real Georgia Mint Julep Recipe.” A winning combination of peach, mint and bourbon, the flavors blend together perfectly into a drink that’s just the right amount of sweet. It is frosty, delicious, and boozey; which is really the only kind of drink I want this summer.


***
The Frozen Mint Julep
Inspired by The Read Georgia Mint Julep, by Jerry Thomas
1 pint Haagen-Daaz Peach Sorbet
1 handful fresh mint
6 oz Bourbon (or to taste)
Place all ingredients in a blender. Fill blender with ice. Blend until smooth. If the consistency is too think, add more ice. If it is not boozy enough, add more booze. Pour in glasses and enjoy.
***