Spirits: Karlsson's Gold Vodka

When I assembled my list of actually good vodkas a few months ago, Karlsson's was on my potential list for inclusion but didn't make the cut because, well, I hadn't actually tried it. I first heard about it in my copy of Jason Wilson's Boozehound (an all-around great book) which describes it as a total rejection of the modern multiply-distilled and ultra-filtered "premium vodka". Wilson even uses the term "potato eau-de-vie", and given my love for other products that use the same philosophy I was dying to try it.

Although I started to see advertisements in Imbibe Magazine, several reviews, and even a couple single-vintage line extensions (single-vintage vodka!) it was months before I stumbled across a bottle of Karlsson's for sale locally. That wound up being a little too late to make the aforementioned list, but I have no qualms tacking on an addendum. Shall we?

About: That's a pretty bottle, no? The shiny golden potatoes along the inside label are a nice touch. The stuff inside has an interesting provenance, stemming from what Wilson describes as an effort to capture a sense of terroir in vodka. It's produced from a blend of heirloom new potatoes all grown in Cape Bjäre, Sweden. Once harvested, the spirit is run only once through a continuous still, not multiple times as is common with super-luxe flavorless vodkas, and is bottled unfiltered. Which makes the clarity of the end result a little surprising, but there you have it. Basically, they're trying to capture the flavor of the potato itself, with as little filtering or embellishment as possible. How do they do?

Tasting Notes: Served at room temperature, this is aggressively medicinal on the nose, a bit like smelling a bottle of aspirin. It's a bit offputting, but there are some notes of dried herbs and black pepper in there too. On the palate, it's immediately rich and creamy (not adjectives that I would normally use to describe vodka) and I'll be damned if it doesn't actually taste a lot like a raw slice of potato. It's subtly vegetal, sweet, a little bit peppery, with distinct notes of fresh thyme and heavy cream. But all of that is played softly and in balance, without much fanfare. As a result, ice waters it down too much and renders it unremarkable. My favorite way to drink it so far has been chilled and served on its own; when cold, the medicinal nose is almost entirely absent, and you can let the vodka rest and warm up on your tongue to taste the layers of flavor. Chilling also helps temper the medicinal and peppery bite of the finish, leaving behind a creamy sweetness that is, again, oddly... potato-y. Sipping vodka - who knew?

On the whole I really like this stuff as a curiosity and a marked departure from the intent of most vodkas. It's definitely more intensely flavored than the other vodkas I reviewed previously, and I feel like it wouldn't mix quite as effectively - it's really meant to be enjoyed on its own. I'm not sure if there's a huge niche for that in the liquor market, but I'm glad that somebody is trying to fill it.

Spirits: Flavorful Vodkas

I'm on record as something of a vodka hater; despite my always-rotating spirit collection, I rarely keep vodka around, and I admit to usually turning up my nose at vodka cocktails. Part of that might be rooted in good old nerd snobbiness, but if you think of spirits as a core element of flavor in cocktails (as I do) then vodka starts to seem a bit silly. Most mass-produced vodkas are designed for and advertised by a complete lack of flavor. They'll use terms like "clarity" and "smoothness", but what producers really mean is that it will get you drunk without tasting boozy. Combine it with a mixer, and you'll just taste the mixer.

So, vodka doesn't add anything other than punch, and with a little experimentation I've found that just about any vodka drink can be enhanced flavor-wise using another white spirit. Gin can readily replace vodka in just about anything; light white rum is a good choice in fruity drinks; blanco tequila or pisco can make interesting substitutions too. All of these will bring something distinct to the mix beyond the alcohol.

Let's not even discuss the scourge of flavored vodkas, okay? They're generally heinous, almost always lower-proof and created using disgustingly artificial extracts. There are a handful of craft producers making good product, but the more readily found stuff is shit. And the flavor arms race between those big makers is reaching satirical levels of absurdity. I mean, whipped cream? Salted watermelon? Fucking Cinnabon vodka? Awful. (For the record, I have tried the salted watermelon stuff, and it is easily the worst spirit I've ever sampled. It's undrinkable. Do not buy it, not even as a gag.)

But, if you look carefully, there are diamonds in the rough. In among the mass-produced vodkas are a few spirits that distinguish themselves by actually tasting like something. Yes! Vodka can have a distinctive flavor when it's not filtered down to nothing. It can taste subtly of the grains (or potatoes) used to produce it, with a flinty and vaguely alkaline character. It can have notes of vanilla or lemon peel or spice; it can be sharp and medicinal or soft and creamy; it can taste of something more than just the filtered-down essence of ethanol. Yes please. Let's try some good stuff.

Luksusowa

About: There's a long-running and vigorous argument between Poles and Russians over the exact origin of vodka. Personally, I haven't done enough research to say one way or the other, but I do know that Russians have a prejudice against potato vodka. On that point alone, my vote's with the Polish. Luksusowa (which translates to "luxury") is a triple-distilled potato vodka, reasonably popular in Poland, and despite some questionable marketing I can understand why. This stuff is tasty, and moreover it's very reasonably priced, usually coming in under $15 per bottle. I initially picked this up as a value brand, but now I think of it as one of the best values to be found.

Tasting Notes: Luksusowa is intensely medicinal and mineral on the note, which makes you think it'll be a lot rougher than it is. On tasting, it develops a creamy and rich texture, with distinct flavors of cocoa, vanilla, and fresh cream. That turns into a somewhat oily, peppery character with more mineral, fading into an extended medicinal finish with a gentle alcohol burn. At this price point it's a great mixing vodka with whatever you've got. I like it with tonic, cola, ginger beer, passionfruit juice... practically anything, really.

Reyka

About: Reyka is a unique product, the only spirit I've ever seen that's produced in Iceland. Hell, I can't even think of any other product imported from the tiny, picturesque island nation. It's also unusually produced, using volcanic activity at multiple points in the production process. The vodka is distilled from grain through an interesting hybrid design called a Carter still, then filtered through lava rocks. It's further cut with glacier water naturally filtered through volcanic springs, and the whole operation is run on geothermal power. Neat! Green! Also pretty dang tasty.

Tasting Notes: This is also a bit medicinal on the nose, but it's also got kind of a dried-herb, floral character; think herbes de provence, maybe with some white pepper. That herb character carries over to the palate, along with a slightly flinty quality, but mostly it's stony, a bit sweet, and clean with a creamy texture. The finish develops subtle notes of vanilla bean and lemon oil, then develops into a lingering peppery quality. I like this one straight out of the freezer, where the stony texture gets reinforced by cold temperatures, and the subtle flavors all come into alignment.

Tito's

About: Produced by a fellow with the unlikely name of Tito Beveridge at the first microdistillery in Texas (or so goes the marketing copy) this vodka is the only domestic product represented here, and it's got a hell of a backstory. More to the point, the bottle says that it's produced in pot stills, which produces a spirit with more character than the modern column stills used for mass-produced vodkas. That's probably why I like it so much, and why I'm not alone; this won a unanimous Double Gold Medal at the World Spirits Competition when it debuted.

Tasting Notes: This has a lightly medicinal nose with hints of orange oil and wet stone. On the palate, it's lightly sweet (kind of a lightly acidic honey character) with some candied orange notes, a grainy bourbon-esque quality, spicy cinnamon, and bitter licorice. The finish is lightly peppery, with a mild burn reminiscent of young whiskey that I really enjoy on its own. Mostly though, I like this in a Vesper, where the sweetness and the spice get along beautifully with gin and Cocchi Americano.


So there you have them! Some weirdo vodkas that I (also a weirdo) actually enjoy. All of these sell at a reasonable price point, by the way, because I think it's ridiculous to pay any more than $25 for a spirit marketed for its lack of flavor. These examples break both those rules, and for that I think they deserve a shot in your home bar.

Salers Substitutions

A few weeks ago, rummaging around my favorite liquor store for finding unusual products, I came across a bottle of Salers Gentiane, which I'd heard mentioned on cocktail blogs but had never found in person. Did I buy it? How is that even a question?

In all fairness, I brought it home not having much idea what I was getting into. I knew it was similar to other bitter aperitif liqueurs, namely Suze and Aveze, which I'd tried before in drinks like the White Negroni and in a drink or two at the esteemed Pouring Ribbons. What I didn't understand was how distinct these gentian liqueurs were from other aperitifs that I've known and loved.

Salers, as it turns out, is a different beast because of what's used to make it bitter: gentian root. A post on Fred Yarm's excellent blog, recapping a talk at this year's Tales of the Cocktail, first helped me get a handle on this difference. Gentian is a distinct bittering agent from either wormwood (used principally in vermouth, and more famously in absinthe) or cinchona bark (the bittering agent in tonic water and in other favorites like Cocchi Americano*). Like vermouths and other aperitifs, gentian liqueurs are fortified wines, starting life as relatively-bland white wine that's then boosted with sugar and spirits to add flavor and shelf life.

*This is actually a little weird, because Fred's post points out that gentian is generally used in "americanos" but Cocchi is indeed flavored with cinchona. Because this sort of linguistic confusion is everywhere in the world of food and spirits.

What makes gentian different is the quality of its bitteress, which sits between wormwood and cinchona on a continuum. Wormwood is intensely herbal and sharply bitter; cinchona is flat, sweeter, and woodier; gentian falls in the complex territory between. It's like taking a deep whiff of wild brushes. Trying my newly acquired Salers on its own, the flavor was intensely vegetal, bitter like a green pepper, brighter and more herbal than the citrus notes I'm used to in Cocchi Americano or Campari. Still, I reasoned, the formulation, alcohol level, and sweet/bitter balance are all roughly comparable to other liqueurs in the category. Why not give it a spin in recipes that call for other bitter liqueurs?

Pink Negroni

A Negroni riff seemed an obvious first move, the White Negroni already having been established as a good use of gentian liqueur. However, I'd purchased my Salers in lieu of other white fortified wines, so I decided to use up the last of my Aperol instead. Glad I did, too, because what a pretty color!

1 1/4 oz gin (using the last of my Bombay Sapphire East)
1 oz Aperol
1 oz Salers

Stir and strain over a large ice cube in a rocks glass; garnish with a broad strip of grapefruit peel.

This went down way too easily. It didn't have quite the richness of a traditional Negroni made with sweet vermouth, but the sweetness was on-point and the orange-rhubarb notes from the Aperol balanced the vegetal-lemon flavor of the Salers beautifully. I would happily add this into a regular rotation if I had such a thing.

Poison Ivy

Given the multiple comparisons I've already made to Cocchi Americano, not doing a Vesper riff would have been stupid. I tried plugging Salers into my standard Vesper recipe, but the final version took a little tweaking to get right.

1 1/2 oz gin (Beefeater this time)
1/2 oz vodka (Lususkowa, a vodka I hope to cover in a near-future post)
1/3 oz Salers
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir very, very well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a lemon twist expressed over the top of the glass. Next time I might try discarding the peel and adding a basil leaf, just to nail home the look.

I normally use about 1/2 oz of Cocchi (about twice what Ian Fleming's original recipe calls for) because I like the flavor, but Salers was a bit overwhelming at that level. Backing off and supplementing with orange bitters lent a better balance of citrus and greenery.

In conclusion: like so much I've talked about here, Salers is funky stuff. But if you've got a hankering for something unusual to try in spirits-focused cocktails, it might just be worth seeking out.

Hanging Garden

I love mint in cocktails, but it's an annoyingly short-lived ingredient. A properly stored syrup will keep for months; you can keep citrus in a bowl for at least a week; mint, once it's picked, will only make it a couple days before it starts to wilt. It's sad - but even sadder, that's one of the exact reasons that we're planning on hanging planters on our front porch. Fresh mint on demand!

1 oz vodka (Moskovskaya)

3/4 oz Fidelitas Obstler

3/4 oz gin syrup

3/4 oz lime juice

12 mint leaves

Shake the liquid ingredients first, then add the mint leaves and shake briefly and brutally; you want to break up the mint a bit without bruising it too much. Strain (but don't double-strain; you want those lovely green specks) into a cocktail glass and gaze at the frothy goodness that requires no additional garnish or fine, float a fucking mint leaf on top, then, if you've got extra.

Fairweather Friend

Random days off taken on a whim are pretty much the best kind. Perhaps the only thing better, as I discovered today, is knuckling down and plowing through the to-do list that you expected to take pretty much all day. Suddenly you've a free couple of hours, the sun's come out, and you have nothing better to do than hang out on the porch with a book and the very first proper drink you've had for four full days. God damn - can things get any better? I doubt it.

Given the circumstance, I figured I'd better ease back into things a bit. I've been building up some ideas, though, so rest assured - you'll probably see a couple pop up here later tonight.

1 3/4 oz cucumber vodka (homemade, preferably, but you could cheat and buy one)
3/4 oz gin & tonic syrup (this was a slightly tweaked and simplified version)
3 dashes Bitter Truth Tonic Bitters

Build over large ice cubes in a large collins glass and fill with soda. Stir gently to combine and garnish with a cucumber wheel if you've got one.

Halloween House Party

I'm not sure how you all spent your Halloween, but I got to spend mine in just about the best way I can imagine - tending bar at a house party for my buddy Vern.  It was a blast!  This was a bit different from some of the tasting events that I've done in the past, in that there were no "courses", just a set menu of a couple simple drinks that I served up on request.  In other words, pretty straightforward bartending, but I got to have some fun with the menu.

I mentioned this a little bit earlier, but the party was themed after "Nostalgia" and I decided to try for a menu that reminded me of the bars I frequented when I first turned of age.  It's all relatively simple stuff, easy to batch and serve quickly.  Yet I was pleased by the response I received; one of the best comments I got was that the overall set of drinks were all excellent and nicely varied.  Exactly what I was aiming for!

Because I batched most of these drinks for quick service, I'm going to provide a couple different versions: the full measurements that I was using to batch, and scaled-down individual versions, in case you want to try them before committing to a larger quantity.

DRINK #1: COSMOTINI
The big hit of the night.  I wound up nearly running out of base ingredients for the juice mix!  No surprise; this is really just a classic Cosmopolitan, served with the option of gin (which is now my preferred method).  Service seemed to split the vodka and gin pretty evenly.

Batched:
10 oz cranberry juice
6 oz triple sec
4 oz lime juice
10 dashes Fee Brothers Cranberry Bitters
To serve: combine 2 oz of gin (the citrus-forward New Amsterdam) or citrus vodka with 2 1/2 oz of the mix above; shake vigorously, strain into a glass, and garnish with cranberries and a lemon wedge (for vodka) or a lime wedge (for gin).

Individual:
1 1/4 oz cranberry juice
3/4 oz triple sec
1/2 oz lime juice
1 (large) dash Fee Brothers Cranberry Bitters
2 oz gin (or citrus vodka)
Shake and strain into a cocktail glass; add garnish as described above.

DRINK #2: WISCONSIN OLD-FASHIONED
Less of my typical very remixable old-fashioned, more the Wisconsin style that I was first introduced to: the kind with a muddled cherry, orange, and splash of soda.  Simplified here for speed, but very successfully.  This is what I was sipping on all night, in between a couple other random combinations.

Batched:
12 oz brandy (can't remember exactly what we had; my recommendation would be Torres)
4 oz bourbon (Cabin Still)
2 oz Cherry Heering
2 oz soda water
25 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters
To serve: pour 2 1/2 oz over ice, add a small orange slice, and stir to combine.

Individual:
1 1/2 oz brandy
1/2 oz bourbon
1/4 oz Cherry Heering
1/4 oz soda water
Stir over ice; garnish as described above.

DRINK #3: WHATEVER & COKE
This was my attempt to accommodate the house-party vibe, letting guests choose a spirit for combination with a mixer.  It also provided a booze-free option for those unfortunate folks who couldn't consume alcohol.  For the cola portion, I'll point you to a previous post; in this batch, I ran short on brown sugar and added in a sizeable portion of molasses, a substitution that I may have to repeat.  The end result was reportedly "amazing" and went down very well indeed.

Homemade Cola:
4 oz TC Cola syrup
12 oz soda water
1 dash lemon juice
Combine and bottle for service; this will foam up when mixed, so do this in an oversize vessel.

To serve: Combine 1 1/2 oz spirit of choice over ice, with 4-5 oz of homemade cola to taste; garnish at whim with lime (for rum), lemon (for vodka), or orange (for whiskey).

Alternatively: Pour 6 oz over ice and garnish with cranberries.  For a low-proof option, add 1/2 oz Cherry Heering and a couple dashes of Regan's Orange Bitters for a "Cherry Coke".

Notebook Cocktail #9

Somewhere in here I had a rather unhealthy fixation on double-base cocktails, meaning those that combine two different liquors in equal proportion.  Classic examples such as the Vieux Carre are among my favorite drinks (you may have noticed a couple variations) and I like trying to get spirits playing off one another.  It's a damned difficult trick to pull off; out of maybe a half-dozen cocktails that I vaguely recall, this was the only one enjoyable enough to deserve recording.

1 oz rye (Wild Turkey here)
1 oz Bak's Bison Grass vodka
3/4 oz Cynar
1/4 oz Licor 43
2 dashes aromatic bitters

Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a wide swath of orange peel.

And that, my friends, concludes the run of Notebook Cocktails (representing maybe 10% at most of my output during this latest hiatus).  I'll try to spread these out a little in future.  In the meantime, I wish all of you a very pleasant July 4th weekend (those of you reading from the U.S., anyway).

Notebook Cocktail #4

This one surprised me enough to write down.  I don't usually care much for coconut water; nor apparently does my wife, who bought a small carton only to take a small sip and immediately declare her disgust.  Using the remainder immediately became my challenge of the evening.

2 oz Bak's Bison Grass vodka (other brands would presumably be fine)
3/4 oz thyme syrup (fairly rich with a small touch of honey in my version)
1 1/2 oz coconut water
1 1/2 oz "cryo-juiced" cucumber juice*
1 oz lemon juice

Stir vigorously over ice and add a quick charge of soda water.  Alternatively, combine the above in the appropriate proportions and charge the whole thing in your soda siphon.

*This stuff is amazing.  I found the recipe (or method, really) in Kevin Liu's excellent new book (the companion blog reprints occasional sections for those of you who want a representative sample) and have been making it every week since then.  It's delicious and couldn't be easier.  Just slice a cucumber or two into very thin wheels (a mandolin is nice for this) then pop them into a resealable plastic bag and chuck into the freezer.  Once frozen, pull the bag out, let the cucumbers thaw completely (I recommend a drip tray from personal experience) and then return to the freezer for a second go.  Once fully frozen and thawed again, pop the bag's top and pour off the resulting juice, squeezing the cucumbers through the bag to extract every drop you can.  One reasonably sized cucumber seems to yield about 4-5 oz of bright green juice.  Don't toss the drained wheels, either - you can drop them back into a pitcher to make cucumber water.