Drink 22: The Undead Gamble

The Name: The Undead Gamble                                                                               

The Bar: One If By Land, Two If By Sea (17 Barrow Street, New York City)

The Story Behind The Name: This month, I've already ordered some drinks with a Halloween theme, but they've genuinely been pretty funny stories and amusing anecdotes. Well, in time for the actual holiday itself, the name for this drink comes from a genuinely creepy story-- perfect for Halloween. It's creepier than mysterious phone calls from so-called comedians. It's even creepier than an evil clown. And it's about a cat my mother used to own by the name of Gamble.

Now Gamble was no ordinary kitty. First off, he had quite a distinctive appearance. He was a large striped cat, and when I say large, I mean large. Clocking in at 26 pounds, he could reportedly lie down on a piano bench (my mom is an accomplished pianist) and be longer than the bench. I asked my mom if she could find any pictures of Gamble, and there were none she could find readily, so instead I leave you with this approximation of what Gamble might have looked like.

But his size alone is not what made Gamble so distinct. He was a bit of a hot-tempered cat and was known to fight with other cats-- primarily by defending his smaller, gay brother Procter. Over the years, he had, appropriately, collected some battle scars, including a permanent bruise on his upper lip, a missing tooth, and a chip in his left ear. So, imagine those on the liger above and you've got a sense of Gamble.

Like all cats, however, his appearance was not the only thing notable about him. He had a distinctively scratchy "meow," for one, and also seemed to show a preference for a particular brand of cat food called "Cozy Kitten" that smelled incredibly foul and which no other cat ever wanted to go near. My mom has described the scent as being like chum. Exactly like chum. So, Gamble might also have been part shark. Gamble sounds awesome.

My mom also had two pet dogs, named Poppy and Sacha, and like many dogs, they weren't particularly fond of cats, barking if they ever saw one, but they made an exception with Gamble and had always treated him like one of the gang. Like many cats, Gamble would sometimes go out (presumably, to fight cats) and not come back for days on end. But, Gamble had always had a fondness for my Uncle Doug (I believe Gamble was technically Doug's cat, even though he lived with my mom) and whenever my Uncle Doug would come to visit, Gamble seemed to always know that he should come back home to say hello.

One day, my mother was riding her bike to school when, on the road ahead, she saw an especially large piece of roadkill lying in the middle of the street. As she got closer, and the roadkill came more into view, she could see it was a cat. A large cat. With stripes. She stopped her bike and went to look. Gamble had not been seen for a few days, which again, was pretty normal for him, but, seeing that roadkill, she immediately assumed the worst. As she got off of her bike, she knelt by the dead cat and saw that, sure enough, it was her beloved Gamble. There was the bruise on the lip. There was the chip in the ear. If that wasn't enough, the poor cat was even wearing a white flea collar that Gamble wore (the vet used to have to clamp it into place so that he couldn't slip out of it and it would have to be cut). Sadly, Gamble was brought home and buried in the yard, under a hibiscus bush.

A month and a half passed, longer than Gamble had ever been gone before-- although, of course, that made sense, since he was dead. But then, one day, my mother kept hearing a cat loudly meowing outside. A loud scratchy meow that sounded very much like Gamble, but of course this was impossible, so she chalked it up to an eerie similarity. Sometimes the meowing would sound like it was very close, and when she'd look outside, she would see a large cat standing on the edge of the lawn, but would never come any closer. My Uncle Doug was coming to visit in a few days, so my mom joked that it was Gamble coming back because Doug was going to visit. It was a joke..or so she thought. The night before Doug arrived, the large cat actually came right up to the house and was at the bottom of the stairs leading to their front door. They got a better look at him, and were surprised by how much he looked like Gamble. They were even more surprised that Poppy and Sacha were not barking at the strange cat. But, of course, it couldn't be Gamble. It just couldn't be.

The next night, on schedule, Doug arrived and, that evening, they heard the cat loudly meowing again. My mom mentioned the strange cat to her brother and, out of curiosity, he went to the door to get a look. There, right in front of the door, was the cat. A large cat. With stripes. And a bruise on his lip and a chip in his ear.

Oh shit!

There was no mistaking him-- just like the dead cat that had been buried in the yard, this cat had all of Gamble's distinct markings. The only thing missing was the clamped-on flea collar (which, again, had to be cut off and which he could not just slip out of), almost as if he had been reborn into a new body. He ran through the open door and jumped onto the kitchen counter where his food bowl used to be. At this point, he was greeted by Poppy and Sasha, who seemed super happy to see their good friend and not at all worried about how or why he was there. My mom got the cat some of his very own Cozy Kitten cat food (she still had a ton of it since none of the other cat owners that she knew wanted it) which he happily ate. And while my mother and her brother were certainly weirded out by this strange appearance, and could think of absolutely no explanation, one thing was clear: Gamble was back and was most certainly alive now.

Gamble meows in the face of death.

To this day we have no idea what happened. Perhaps it was another cat they found in the road, but it seems unlikely that another cat would resemble Gamble so closely. Gamble lived with my mother for a few more years and continued to have some close scrapes with death. One time, on a road trip to Florida, Gamble jumped out of an open car window and ran off. This would be bad no matter what, but my mother happened to be driving through the Everglades at the time-- a place known for being filled with alligators. After searching for him and calling his name for hours, they eventually left because they were being bitten by mosquitoes. While they figured they might have lost Gamble forever, they decided to go back to where he had run off the next day, as they didn't want to give up all hope of finding their pet. They called him for several more hours (and my mom even brought a can of his disgusting Cozy Kitten cat food) and, eventually, miraculously, Gamble appeared from out of the glades. My mother picked him up and held him, not believing that he had actually returned. Unfortunately, at that moment, a huge semi noisily passed by. This startled Gamble who jumped out of my mother's arms, clawing her face, neck, and arm in the process. From the pain, she instinctively let go, and Gamble once again scampered off into the Everglades. This time, they were unable to find him. It was the last they saw of Gamble.

Although, the night that they were returning home from Florida, right before they left, a small kitten from a fish camp down the road jumped onto their windshield. A kitten with distinct stripes running down its side.

A photo of some stairs with nothing terrifying on them at all.

Since then, there were no more Gamble sightings, but I'm pretty sure that if he were to show up on my mother's doorstep today, she wouldn't be surprised. My mom lives in New York now, not in the South, so maybe Gamble still is roaming around, meowing, looking for Cozy Kitten, and just generally being his bizarre and supernatural self.

And, no. She never dug up the grave from under the hibiscus bush. She was too terrified by what she might find. Let's just assume that she would have found nothing but a lone white flea collar. And no skeleton.

Ordering The Drink: I knew I wanted to order a Gamble-themed drink for Halloween, but struggled to think of a name. I almost went with The Cat With Nine Lives, but that's just a saying. Gamble didn't come back from the dead NINE times, just once or twice (that we know of). Ultimately, I settled on The Undead Gamble as I thought it sounded cool. And while it's not an obvious name for a bartender to make a drink for, I thought it was fairly evocative and might provide some good inspiration. I was excited for my drink. And it was truly a GAMBLE since I might end up with a delicious drink, or something that tastes like Cozy Kitten.

I made my way to One If By Land, Two If By Sea, a bar and restaurant which I have been planning to go to for a a Halloween drink for months now. That's because it's known for two things: its beautiful decor and for being haunted. 

Seriously, look at this beautiful place. Now, we'll forget all about that and focus on the "haunted" part.

My last attempt at ordering a drink from a haunted bar proved unsuccessful, but I had high hopes for this one. And, also, the ghost stories from this place seem to be much more detailed and well-documented. It has, if we were to believe all accounts and stories, a total of 20 ghosts residing within the establishment, and numerous people have vouched that they have seen them (including some members of the waitstaff who quit after witnessing a supernatural occurrence). The most well-known ghost there is that of former Vice President, dueling enthusiast, and one time owner of the bar, Aaron Burr. I actually first heard that Aaron Burr's ghost haunted this place on the infamous ghost tour which fans of the blog will surely recall. Sure enough, as I entered the bar, there was another ghost tour right outside. Sadly, their tour was not being given by Alice and they had no idea what they were missing.

Why even take a ghost tour without Alice?

  
I entered the bar and ordered a drink. Rather than immediately get my custom drink, I ordered a signature cocktail of their called the Cigar Box, which has been a favorite of mine since I first tried it here a couple of years ago. I hadn't been back since then, and wanted to see if it lived up to my recollection, which it did.

The Cigar Box, a delicious bourbon and fig vodka based drink

As I sipped my Cigar Box, a couple arrived who was there to celebrate an anniversary. As they spoke to the hostess, one asked "Is Aaron Burr here tonight?" The hostess laughed and said "We think he left here a few years ago, actually." So, alas, I most likely would not be seeing Aaron Burr tonight. It only took him about 175 years to move on so, you know, good for him I guess.

I then asked the bartender if he'd be willing to make me a drink based on the name "The Undead Gamble." He said "I'll give it my best shot," and set to work. A couple to my right heard me placing my order and were intrigued too. The three of us watched him at work.

The bartender ponders what the hell "undead gamble" means.

This is easily the most methodical I've ever seen a bartender be about a drink. He took out several bottles which he seemed to be considering. At one point, he even pulled out a cocktail book and flipped through it, which easily is the first time a bartender has actually done research in pursuit of one of these drinks. He caught my eye at one point and laughed. "It's coming along," he said. "I'm excited!" I told him. "I see you have a bottle of absinthe out and that's always a good sign." He grinned mischievously. "I want it to be green," he said.

He didn't end up using the absinthe (which is sad because I love absinthe) but he definitely succeeded in his goal. This was the brightest, greenest drink I've ever seen.

The Drink:

The Undead Gamble

1 1/2 oz. blanco Tequila
1 oz. lime
3/4 oz. simple syrup
1/4 oz. creme de menthe
Ice

(The bartender was kind enough to write out the full list of ingredients for me, including proportions.)

Assessment of Drink: As I think the picture shows, this drink is immediately striking, and undeniably one of the more distinct-looking drinks I've gotten for this blog thus far. And it tasted absolutely delicious. I was at first a bit skeptical of how the lime and mint would work together. As anyone who has foolishly attempted to drink orange juice immediately after brushing one's teeth can attest, citrus and mint really do not work well together. But here, it undeniably worked. The lime's more fruity and floral notes were brought out by the freshness of the mint, making this a surprisingly refreshing drink. As he handed me the ingredient list, the bartender said, "It's basically a margarita without the triple sec." Which it was. But, like, a mint margarita. Which sounds very odd, but trust me, it worked.

As much as I would have loved for the absinthe to have made it into this drink (and I feel like that liquor just feels generally spookier for some reason and might have been a good inclusion) I was really glad that this bartender used creme de menthe, as it's an alcohol that I think is very underrated and looked down upon, perhaps because of its low alcohol content. But I think creme de menthe is really fantastic. It compliments other flavors really well (and for those who don't like strong drinks, is a great way to make a stronger drink a bit more palatable) and has a distinct taste that is, ultimately, not too overpowering most of the time. And its vibrant green color certainly adds a wow factor (the bartender was right-- the green from the absinthe would never have been this bright). In college, I always had some creme de menthe on hand. A signature drink of mine was an alcoholic milkshake using creme de menthe, vanilla ice cream, vodka, and either creme de cacao or regular chocolate syrup. I called it an Avodka Kedavra. I miss college.

But what I love most about creme de menthe is its aftertaste. It's just a very clean flavor and it lingers very nicely on the tongue and lips-- it has a sweetness but not too much so. And an aftertaste is, to me, what separates the good drinks from the great drinks-- the great drinks are the ones that you can still taste long after. And this drink was definitely a great drink. I can still taste it right now, in fact. Had I not ordered my beloved Cigar Box, then I probably would have ordered another, and am especially glad to have this recipe as I might try to make one of these on my own in the summer. Really delicious stuff, and an absolute Halloween treat.

A mysterious hand clutches the Undead Gamble. Could it be a ghost's hand?! Maybe. Could it be my own hand?! Much more likely.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Yeah! I mean, if I got this drink and was told "This is called The Undead Gamble" I'd definitely buy it. The bright green color certainly has something spooky about it, and that's definitely what I was looking for. The drink actually kind of reminded me of drinking Slimer from Ghostbusters. And that would, in all other circumstances, be a terrible, terrible thing. But, luckily, in this case, it was appropriate and, more importantly, truly delicious.

Mmm! Minty fresh!

While this cocktail does indeed fit the name, I can't help but think of a lot of other ideas that might have worked even better. There are many ways to go with the word "undead": mummies, vampires, ghosts, etc. There's even a cocktail called the Zombie which could have been a great inspiration for The Undead Gamble (it's made of assorted rums and fruit juices). And I must say that the "gamble" part of this drink was totally missing. How perfect would it have been to have gotten a drink with some Black Label Jack Daniels? In other words: Blackjack.

But I merely throw these out as alternatives. I truly was happy with the drink I received. The fun in this whole experiment is, after all, seeing how different bartenders respond to the different names. And, in this case, name inspired the bartender to go "I WILL MAKE A GREEN DRINK!" He didn't just make a green drink, he made one of the best all around drinks I've gotten for this blog. I'll definitely be returning to One If By Land, Two If By Sea sometime soon. And might just bring this recipe with me to see if it can be recreated. It was the perfect place to cap off my month of spooky drinks.

And, on that note, happy Halloween, everybody! As much as I love the holiday, I couldn't think of a good costume this year, so I won't be dressing up. Which means that this Halloween, I'll of course be going as Jon Hamm.

Drink 21: The Feminist Orangutan

The Name: The Feminist Orangutan                                                                                 

The Bar: Jacob's Pickles (509 Amsterdam Avenue, between 84th & 85th st., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: Not going to have one of these this time because I'm actually going to explain the name in the "Ordering The Drink" section. I know it's off-putting, but, I promised spooky drinks this month, and what is more spooky than...FORMAT CHANGES?!?!

Most thing are spookier than format changes. But these lawn flamingos DEFINITELY are. That's why they're called spookymingos.

Ordering The Drink: The other night, I was having dinner with my friends Madeline, Jared, and Mary-- as the first two of which were visiting from Ohio. We were at one my favorite neighborhood restaurants, called Jacob's Pickles. I first took note of it because of its sign. Because, if you look at the sign, you would think that the name of the restaurant is "Beer Biscuits Pickles," which I think would be an even better name which would get right to the point.

Luckily, beer, biscuits, and pickles are all great things so I tried the restaurant out a few years ago and have been coming back every since! It's a very hipstery place, where everything that could possibly come in a mason jar comes in a mason jar.

As one would expect, they do have good beer, biscuits, and pickles. Here are some broken pieces of biscuit, topped with, from the left and going clockwise, maple butter and honey, strawberry jam, and orange marmalade. Yum.

They do, of course, serve more than beer, biscuits and pickles. One of the more distinct dishes on their menu is, perhaps, the "chicken and pancakes," which is exactly what it sounds like: fried chicken, pancakes, and maple syrup. And it comes with bacon because of course it fucking does.

Both Jared and Mary ordered the chicken and pancakes because why would you NOT order this?

They also have delicious macaroni and cheese, which I vouch for as a mac and cheese aficionado. It is not only delicious, but it is one of the largest portions of mac and cheese I've ever seen. By the end of the meal, it looked like Madeline, who ordered said mac and cheese, had barely touched her food at all.

It's possible that she had already eaten half of it at this point.

Now that, you're hungry, let's get to where the name "The Feminist Orangutan" came from. With Halloween coming up, we were discussing Halloween costumes and Madeline mentioned that she and her roommates had an idea for a theme costume where each one would go as a different type of wave-- one as a radio to represent a radio wave, one as the ocean to represent a water wave, and one as a microwave. And because all three of them are feminists, they would, combined, be going to the party as "The Three Waves of Feminism."

Now, I'm all for a good theme costume, but to me this whole idea seemed to not be all that well thought out. For one thing, seeing a radio is not going to immediately make someone think of "wave." And while the theme could maybe be "words that have the word WAVE after them," then that would mean they'd be going as a radio, an ocean, and a micro. Not a microwave. And even if someone were to miraculously figure out the "waves" theme, there's nothing to really signal that these are the three waves of feminism specifically. Lots of things can come in three waves. And so, while, in theory I like the idea of a costume that might educate people about the cultural and historical importance of the three waves of feminism, as a group costume, we all concluded that the whole thing could have really been thought out better.

Jared and Madeline at Jacob's Pickles. Madeline is not currently wearing her wave costume which is probably for the best.

After we got tired of pointing out flaws in this costume idea (like...seriously, though, who would want to dress up as a MICROWAVE) we turned to other topics of conversation, and eventually started talking about this blog, which only Madeline had known about previously. As I talked about it, Mary mentioned that her grandfather used to do something similar. Whenever he'd go to a bar, he would order "An Orangutan." The bartender would inevitably go "What's that?" since it's not a real drink, but apparently her grandfather would act shocked and go "You don't know?! This is a standard! You should really know this drink!" and make up some mixture that he wanted to drink, all the while insisting it was a classic drink that every bartender should know. We all agreed that I should definitely order a drink for the blog at Jacob's Pickles-- while they are primarily a restaurant, they have a great bar which is filled with a really nice beer selection and some really great signature cocktails-- while I can't imagine going there and NOT getting at least some biscuits or something, I imagine going there just for a drink would be really fun too. While we considered ordering "The Three Waves of Feminism," we ultimately wanted to honor Mary's grandfather, and combined these two conversations, settling on ordering a drink called-- you guessed it-- The Feminist Orangutan.

Mary and I, excited about ordering the drink.

The restaurant was absolutely packed (it usually is) and so it took a while to get our drink. Apparently, the bartender initially was skeptical, but eventually gave in. I can't speak to their reaction firsthand, but I know our waitress seemed really excited about the idea. While we waited, we tried to guess what might be in the drink. We offered a few ideas, but were all in consensus that the drink had to be orange. Like...if it wasn't orange then the drink could pretty much be considered a failure right then and there. Luckily, our waitress returned with a bright orange drink in hand.

The Drink:

The Feminist Orangutan

Four Roses Bourbon

Lemon Juice
Orange Juice
Orange Bitters
Chocolate Bitters

Assessment of Drink: As the pictures of food earlier in the blog probably demonstrated, the philosophy at Jacob's Pickles is basically to make sure that everything is delicious. And this drink was no exception to that rule. It was addictively yummy-- and everyone at the table agreed. And it was a surprisingly complex drink too. Having the orange juice and the lemon juice together seemed surprising to me, as I would think that one of the citruses would get lost, but both were needed. The orange was clearly the prominent flavor, but the lemon served as a bright accent. And the bourbon admirably prevented the drink from being too acidic, and definitely made its presence known (it wasn't exactly a strong drink, but the bartender also had clearly not skimped on the bourbon). While I can't really speak to how the orange bitters affected the drink, the chocolate bitters were also a really nice touch-- they kept the drink from being way too sweet, and came through especially strong in the drink's aftertaste-- a nice flavor to have linger on your tongue after you took a sip. I usually find that drinks with orange juice become all about the orange juice, but the bourbon, chocolate, and lemon really helped make this drink feel remarkably balanced. 

As you can tell, I was very happy with the drink.

Honestly, I cannot think of a single negative thing to say-- this is the type of drink I would remember from a bar, and would return to that bar specifically to order it again. It was that good, and definitely one of the better drinks I've gotten for this blog. I knew Jacob's Pickles wouldn't let me down!

Jared's first attempt at taking the above picture was slightly more...artistic.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Sure! Like I said before, the drink basically had to be orange, and it was, so it definitely fulfilled the "orangutan" part. I would have liked to have talked to the bartender about what was "feminist" about the drink. Since the waitress specifically mentioned the brand of bourbon as Four Roses, I'm guessing that was supposed to represent feminism somehow. Because "Rose" is a female name? Because roses are flowers and they are generally considered to be feminine? I'm not sure. To be fair, I'm not sure what one COULD have done to make the drink seem feminist. In my mind, I was imaging taking what is typically called a "girly drink," like a Cosmo or something, but then just LOAD it with Scotch or something else that packs a punch. Plus orange juice to make it orange. That actually would probably be delicious.

So, does this drink fit the name perfectly? Definitely not. But, with less scrutiny, it fits the name in a pinch. And it was so delicious that I really couldn't have cared less. Great food, great drinks, great atmosphere-- if you are ever on the Upper West Side, you should definitely take the time to stop by Beer Biscuits Pickles!

Also, there wasn't a time to mention this naturally in the post, but, orangutans are really cool, you guys.

Drink 20: The Sinister Minister

The Name: The Sinister Minister                                                                              

The Bar: WXOU Radio Bar (558 Hudson St., New York City) and White Horse Tavern (567 Hudson St., New York City)

The Story Behind The Name:  

Sadly, this post has nothing to do with this fantastic typo from Australian television a while back. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

As mentioned in some previous posts, I work as a magic toy salesman. And as such, some days, I work at the Toys R Us in Times Square. The largest toy store in the world, it's a pretty remarkable place, filled with a functional ferris wheel, an animatronic T-Rex, and tons of stuff that are probably super exciting to kids who walk through the store. But as fun as the store is, once one becomes familiar with the store, it starts to feel remarkably mundane. It's, ultimately, just like any other workplace (although, again, most workplaces don't have a T-Rex). Behind the scenes, the job has perks and frustrations just like any other job. And nowhere is this more apparent than when you step into the Toys R Us breakroom. Which is a breakroom just like any other office breakroom. Which means it is a rather depressing place.

 The only real amenity in the dimly lit breakroom is a television. Now, theoretically, anyone can change the channel on this thing, but as I don't actually work for the store, I don't typically feel like I should. And, it seems, neither does anyone else in the store. Because of this, I have never actually seen anyone change the channel, and it typically stays the same throughout the day. Which means that there are only a handful of things ever on the screen, and most of them are pretty terrible. But I get excited when the Toys R Us breakroom television is on one particular channel: the Investigation Discovery Channel.

The channel SO EXCITING that they couldn't come up with a tagline other than just saying the name of the channel.

Now, I don't have any television feed and simply rely on Hulu and Netflix and other sites for my television viewing needs, so I did not know about the Investigation Discovery Channel until I worked at Toys R Us, and I am so glad that someone who works there likes their programming, because it is amazing. And by amazing I mean terrible. All of their shows are documentaries about "true crime" stories-- various shows about criminals and the people who catch them. Which is fine, and I will admit that some of their shows are probably well done. But, what makes me find this channel really amusing is that there are only so many shows that they can really create. Like, when you make documentary shows about crimes, it doesn't give you much variety. On other non-fiction channels, like National Geographic, PBS, History Channel, or TLC--you know, back when TLC made actual shows that a real person would watch like Trading Spaces and not shows with titles like Breaking Amish: Los Angeles which is actually a show on a channel that calls itself The Learning Channel and that makes me sad-- there's at least a broad range of subjects one can cover. 

In this moment, the Cake Boss realized what his life had become. He was an artist once. He made people happy with his confectionary creations. Now...now, he's on TLC.

But, on Investigation Discovery, it's ONLY crime documentaries. Nothing else. And because of this, Investigation Discovery offers a bunch of shows that are the exact same show-- which follow a basic theme of how a crime was committed and, subsequently, solved-- but with a SLIGHT variation. And, I have to say, the fact that they have come up with some of these shows demonstrates a lot of creativity on the part of the Investigation Discovery executives. There's the show I (Almost) Got Away With It which is told from the perspective of the criminal as opposed to the law enforcement.  There's the show Motive which tells you how a crime was committed but doesn't reveal why until the very end of the hour. Which is really funny because it's usually obvious. There will be opening narration like "Mr. Moneybanks McRichguy was killed by his only son and sole inheritor who received the entirety of his vast fortune. But...what could his motive have been? Could it have been the money? Or...something else entirely?"

Hint: it's not the second option.

One of the worst shows is called I Was Murdered (which is much less ridiculous, albeit much blunter than its original title Stolen Voices; Buried Secrets) which is told from the victim's perspective. And by that, I mean, it is actually narrated by an actor pretending to be the victim. Which I think we can all agree is incredibly disrespectful. "I was a loving wife. An attentive mother. I had a happy life. But all of that was cut short when I was killed. Did my murderers know that I was planning to go to Costa Rica in a month?" NO. NO THEY DID NOT, VOICE ACTRESS, BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT THIS PERSON. AND ALSO BECAUSE YOU JUST TOLD US THEY WERE RANDOM ROBBERS WHO BROKE IN.

In general, the Investigation Discovery channel is a wonderful blend of being slightly informative, but also just incredibly trashy, and I must say that its bad reenactments and overly dramatic narrations are just remarkably entertaining. I'm pretty sure that they have used the same stories (and, most likely, the same footage) for all of these different shows too.

But, for all of my badmouthing, Investigation Discovery also offers my favorite television show of all time. More than Breaking Bad. More than Arrested Development. My favorite show is called...Sinister Ministers.

See?! It's a real show! And the tagline is "Collared" which makes me really happy.

Full disclosure, I have never seen a single episode of this show, but the very fact that it exists fills me with joy. I laughed out loud when I saw a commercial for it. The show is about priests who did illegal things, and that's obviously not what makes me happy. It's JUST the title. Because you KNOW that they were filming an episode about a criminal priest and then someone realized that "sinister" and "minister" rhymed. And then they said "Wait, we can't just waste that. We need to make this into a show." And that's what they did. Because Investigation Discovery are true pioneers in the golden age of television. Somebody give these folks a Peabody.

As I said, I've never seen this show, and I never plan to. I probably wouldn't care for it if I did. But, in the meantime, let's just be glad that this rhyming title exists and that they just went for it.

Ordering The Drink: As I said in my last post, I'm doing a month of Halloween-themed drinks (I figured the "sinister" part of this drink name made it appropriate) and wanted to go to some haunted bars to order drinks. One bar that consistently came up when I researched haunted bars in NYC was White Horse Tavern. White Horse Tavern is a rather famous bar in Greenwich Village, which was once frequented by some of New York's most prominent literary figures, including but not limited to Bob Dylan, Anais Nin, Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thomas, and Jack Kerouac. But the figure most commonly associated with the tavern is Dylan Thomas who, it is alleged, had a drink there the night that he died. If that's not spooky enough, it is said that he haunts the bar, and people have reported seeing him sitting at his usual table having a drink.

It is also said that Thomas haunts the Chelsea Hotel. Which might make more sense since, you know, that's where he actually died.

Because of this, I purposefully set out to have a drink at the White Horse Tavern this month. It's a hopping place-- and while it is often visited by tourists due to its famous past clientele, it doesn't feel particularly touristy, which is a plus. I took a seat at the bar and, as always, told the bartender that I had an unusual request, and wondered if he could make me a drink based solely on a name. He looked away for a second, considered, and then said, "No."

Now, I've always known that, if I did this blog long enough, I would eventually meet a bartender who wanted nothing to do with this. Bartenders have to put up with a lot, after all, and I can see how it would be a bit of an annoying request (which is why I always leave a substantial tip and try to be as polite and unobtrusive as possible). But, nonetheless, I was a bit surprised to meet with my first refusal.

"No?" I asked.

"Not tonight," he said. I said that was fine, and ordered a cider (which was very cheaply priced and came in a huge glass which was great). The bartender later explained that, apparently, I had "missed the excitement," and something had happened right before I arrived (he didn't elaborate, but my guess is it probably involved drunk people), so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say that on another night, he might have made the drink for me. And he was perfectly pleasant otherwise, and never came across as rude. Still, I found the rejection fairly disappointing, as I have received a regularly positive response elsewhere. I finished my cider and took my leave-- with no sign of Dylan Thomas' ghost.

But, I still wanted my drink. And, as I stood on the street, I could hear the sound of bar ambience. Directly across from the street from the White Horse Tavern, I saw a sign.

This sign, in fact.

I entered the establishment-- which, as the sign says, is called WXOU Radio Bar-- and had high hopes. It felt like a pretty standard dive bar-- that sort of comfortable, reliable, place that every neighborhood needs. As one would expect from a place with "radio" in the title, the music was fantastic, with a jukebox full of old-time, feel-good classics prominently on display. The place was smaller than White Horse Tavern, but was similarly bustling, but the clientele did seem to be more neighborhood locals as opposed to tourists. Which was a great sign.

None of these people are looking at maps or wearing "I <3 NY" paraphernalia, so, yeah, probably not tourists.

Once I asked the bartender if he'd be willing to make a drink for me based solely on the name, he sighed a little bit and looked kind of frustrated. He considered the request for a while, and I was genuinely worried I would be turned down for the second time that night. "What is this for?" he asked, suspiciously. At this point, I was most certainly not going to tell him that I run a blog because I had a feeling he would just kick me out then and there, so I lied and said it was "just for fun," and assured him that I would really be happy no matter what. Ultimately, he agreed, and I gave him the name "Sinister Minister." He set about making the drink...but not before double checking that this wasn't a pre-existing drink. He seemed to think I might be testing him but, I assured him I was not.

The Drink:

The Sinister Minister-- the white ring on top is, to me, the minister's collar but that was definitely unintentional.

Rye

Captain Morgan Spiced Rum

Orange Juice

Cranberry Juice

Sour Mix

finished with Ginger Ale and Club Soda, with a Lime garnish

 

Assessment of Drink: My bartender, after getting over his suspicion concerning my drink order, loosened up quite a bit and I think (and hope) he enjoyed making the drink. After he set it down and explained the drink and its ingredients, he joked "Now, that'll be thirty-eight dollars." He also seemed very concerned about his creation-- apologetically saying that he had never made the drink before so he really had no idea what it was like. He tried a tiny bit with a straw, though, and seemed to think it was okay. Later, after I had finished half of it, he returned and asked me how it was, saying "I hope it's drinkable." Poor guy. He really seemed to not want to let me down.

I wanted a picture of my bartender, but, again, was pretty fearful about getting thrown out/judged so I tried to take it sneakily and it ended up being a really bad picture.

And he didn't let me down at all! I thought this was a really good drink. It had a lot more going on in it than in a standard cocktail you get in a divey bar like this. I liked all of the flavors individually, but didn't know how these would work together. But I thought that the rye and the spiced rum really worked together well-- the spiciness bringing out the subtler tones of the rye, while the fruit juices added some necessary sweetness (although, I would not describe this as a "sweet" drink at all-- probably due to the tart cranberry).

But, this drink was, admittedly, imperfect. I feel like by playing with proportions a bit more, this one would be perfected but, as is, it was definitely serviceable but needed a bit more fine-tuning. The big thing was the sour mix. Now, I'm a fan of sour mix (my drink of choice when I'm not ordering drinks with weird names is a Whiskey Sour, after all) but in this case it was out of place and a little bit too overpowering. With a little less sour mix, it might have worked really well, but with so many flavors working with each other, the sour mix seemed to stand out and that was unfortunate, because it masked a lot of the other nice flavors going on. And, which finishing the cocktail with club soda was necessary (more on that in a bit) it watered down the drink a little bit too much. Had the rye and the rum been a bit more prominent, I think this could have been a truly excellent drink. As is, it was still very nice, and definitely lifted my spirits for the evening.

Does It Live Up To The Name: I had wondered how this drink would turn out, and figured there were many ways one could go. And my bartender at WXOU Radio had a great solution and used the tried-and-true strategy of building upon a pre-existing cocktail. In this case, he used The Presbyterian, which is whiskey, finished with ginger ale and club soda. As he explained the drink, he seemed to not stand by this, saying the jump was "a leap," but, to me, this explanation works really well. And, since the rye, ginger ale, and club soda represent the Presbyterian minister, that means the other ingredients must be the "sinister" part of the equation. And I thought this was great. The spiced rum is not just any spiced rum, it was Captain Morgan, and pirates are DEFINITELY sinister. And the tartness of the sour mix and, especially, the cranberry juice (as well as the devilish red color that it loans the drink) could definitely be perceived as "sinister" too. That means the only superfluous ingredient here is the orange juice

The most sinister of all beverages.

So, in general, I thought this was one of the best interpretations of the name that I've gotten for this blog. And, like I said, tasted good to boot. All in all, I had a much better time at WXOU Radio Bar than at the White Horse Tavern. It may not have the literary history or name recognition, but if you're ever in the neighborhood, give WXOU a shot. Good drinks, good music, and a good time had by all. Nothing sinister about that.