Antonin's Black Heart

Here's a commemorative drink, in the grand tradition of bartenders naming cocktails after memorable people. The person in question is one who I disagreed with on almost everything, but he was certainly influential and he seemed like a guy who would enjoy a stiff drink.

And I think we all need one of these now that an already insane election season just got crazier.

1 1/2 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy
3/4 oz Cynar
3/4 oz red vermouth
1/4 oz ruby port
1/4 Islay scotch (or similarly peaty, briny monster)
2 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter bitters
2 dashes Fee Brothers Black Walnut bitters

Stir and strain into an old-fashioned glass over a single large cube. Garnish with a large coin of orange peel (I used blood orange, appropriately enough) and a few grains of sea salt.

The Waiting Game

My wife suggested this as a cocktail name a few days ago, inspired by our current situation involving a baby who refuses to emerge on schedule. I haven't been drinking a ton of cocktails lately (being on call and everything) but this spontaneous variation on a simple scotch & soda fits the bill. The fact that it's fairly strong doesn't hurt.

1 3/4 oz blended scotch
3/4 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy (a product that I absolutely love)
1/4 oz blueberry syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl bitters
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Combine in a highball glass with large ice cubes and 3-4 oz of soda water to taste. Stir gently, drink slowly, and be patient.

Randicot Punch

Here's just a random punch recipe; it was good at the time, so I'm recording it verbatim.  Upon further review in the cold light of morning (okay, fine: noon) it could do with a bit of tweaking, but that'll have to wait for later.  I'm out of scotch, or at least blended stuff worth infusing.  No way in hell I'm putting apricots in my Glenrothes.

8 oz apricot-infused blended scotch (Famous Grouse, I believe)
4 oz lime juice
3 oz citrus peel syrup
3 oz gin & tonic syrup
16 oz sparkling water

Combine in a pitcher over large but plentiful ice cubes.  Serve in small glasses.

So, the proportions aren't quite there.  I was totally misremembering David Wondrich's recommended balance of sour, sweet, and strong; first thing I'd do next time would be reduce the sugar.  Maybe simplify down to a combined syrup, but I'd also want to do the peel syrup as an oleo-saccharum if working in bulk, and I'm not sure how to integrate the juniper and tonic.  Or perhaps a little black tea, to emphasize the smokiness of the scotch and soak up some sweetness.  And, the apricot-infused scotch could easily be split into regular old blended stuff and some Rothman & Winter apricot liqueur (yum).  I dunno.  We'll get it there.

The name was just from me doodling around with this "random apricot-flavored" punch.  I like the abbreviated combination.  Sounds like an old Maryland vacation spot, someplace where rich fucks keep "cabins" the size of French chateaus.  Right?  That could just be me.  (Not the chateau, obviously, but the mental image.)

Spirits: Serious Single Malts

I have extolled the relative virtues of blended scotch before, but truth be told I've increasingly meandered into the refined heights of the real deal: single malt. The term seems a bit arcane and intimidating, but it's quite simple. Legally, whiskey bearing the label must be produced from malted barley, be aged for at least three years, and come from a single distillery. That's it. Like "bourbon", it just denotes a set of standards, not a guarantee of quality or drinkability, although the stuff that makes it to our shores tends to be of decent caliber.

In fact, different regions and producers make such a range of different styles that it's tough to enjoy them all. I personally am blessed by a local pub with an impressive scotch list and a healthy pour, which has enabled me to sample my way about. My wife and I have cheerfully nicknamed the place "Four Scotches" after... well, you can guess.

Thanks to these shenanigans, I've managed to zero in on my own preferences, and collect a few bottles that suit me nicely indeed. Not all whiskey-producing regions of Scotland are represented (notably, there's not a single Islay or Lowland product present) so this very much represents my tastes. They also reflect my price point; single malt tends to be more expensive than blended, but nothing here retails for more than about $60 in my local market, making them relatively affordable. Fancy booze is all fine and dandy, but I'd rather have two bottles of high-quality stuff than one bottle of ultra-premium or limited-edition or whatever.

Speaking of: on to the high-quality stuff.

Glenrothes Select Reserve

About: Based in the distillery-rich region of Speyside, Glenrothes is a bit unique in that they frequently produce vintage bottlings produced only from a single year's malt. A lot of distilleries blend whiskies from multiple years to create a desired flavor (and yes, this is allowed under the definition of "single malt" - but the youngest malt in the blend must be as old as the year statement on the label). This specific whiskey, which appears to be their entry-level model, is actually produced with the blending method, to exemplify the "house style", and the result is intriguing. As scotches go, it's on the lighter side; still nicely complex, but lacking the overt smoky character that can drive away novice scotch drinkers. It's a fine one with which to start exploring the single malt world.

Tasting Notes: I get some really big notes of dried apricot on the nose with this one; it's weird for a scotch to be so aggressively fruity. There's also a little bit of coconut, oak, and vanilla there too, but damn, that apricot. (Fortunately, I really like dried apricot.) The palate starts off sweet, with vanilla, orange, dried figs, and a sort of amaretto-ish almond roundness. Things get more oaky from there, but not too much; there's a little bit of marshmallow and raw-spirit pepper character too. The finish hangs onto that pepper, and the amaretto sweetness comes back, but the whole thing fades out pretty quickly, leaving a curiously airy sensation behind.

Highland Park 12 Year

About: Highland Park is an intriguing distillery for a couple big reasons. It's located in Orkney, a northern island cluster that could arguably be construed as its own sub-region (though I believe it's typically considered part of the Highlands). The distillery malts their own barley, which as I'm reading in Adam Rogers' Proof is quite uncommon these days. (Malting, by the way, is the process by which barley is encouraged to germinate, breaking down some its starches into sugars that can be fermented by yeast.) Keeping with the cant towards tradition, the whiskey is aged exclusively in ex-sherry casks; a lot of newer producers adopt ex-bourbon casks as either a full or partial substitute. Those fun facts don't add up to an especially weird product; they produce a well-rounded, balanced scotch with an unmistakable smoky core.

Tasting Notes: The thing I dig about Highland Park is that it's classically, unmistakably scotchy, but not overpowering, as I think a lot of Islay whiskeys can be. The nose has notes of dried hay and almonds, with a little whiff of iodine and campfire; on the palate, there's a balance between apples, toffee, toasted nuts, grain, and a little touch of black tea. The peat largely comes out on the finish, which stays lingering and smoky. It's the kind of finish that invites another sip, which I am probably excessively happy to take.

Macallan Fine Oak 10 Year

About: Macallan is one of the bigger names in the single malt game, and their core bottlings (the 12-year is pretty common) are among my go-to scotches when dealing with a standard restaurant's limited selection. In the last decade or so, they've also started releasing a "Fine Oak" series, aged in three different types of barrels (European and American sherry casks, plus American bourbon casks) as opposed to their sherry-only core product. This makes for a somewhat subtler whiskey, especially this 10 Year version, which oddly enough is marketed for use in cocktails. I'm not one to turn down a cocktail, but single malt is generally overkill (when there are so many suitable blends out there). I prefer to think of this as an example of how pleasant a relatively-young whiskey can be; not everything has to be aged for a couple decades to hit its peak.

Tasting Notes: This is on the light and sweet side of scotch, but in a balanced and pleasant way. Citrus, grains and fresh hay are big on the nose. It's much the same on the palate, full of orange marmalade, honey, malt, and touches of vanilla, toasted coconut, and oak. That oak is a bit more dominant on the finish, which is where you're reminded that this is a younger whiskey with a slightly raw and peppery character, plus a sort of butterscotch note that reminds me of nothing more than a Worther's Original. Weird, but good with dessert.

The Balvenie 14 Year Caribbean Cask

About: This is a funky one, and a really good example of creative finishing, the practice of aging whiskey in a distinctly-flavored cask in order to bring its flavor into the resident liquor. Like Highland Park, The Balvenie (I guess it's always capitalized that way?) seems to be big on tradition. They malt their own barley, sure; but they take it two steps further by growing their own grain and by maintaining a staff of coopers (or barrelmakers) and a dedicated coppersmith for their stills. Dang, dude, that's commitment. And then they go and do a totally crazy thing like age this stuff in rum-finished barrels. I'm not quite sure how one follows from the other, but I'm glad they decided to occasionally buck tradition. Be warned: because of this small-batch nature, it's also the most expensive one of this little roundup, so you'll pay for the privilege. But...

Tasting Notes: There is no better way to explain than by saying that this stuff smells intensely like rum. Not just a little, but distinctively, predominantly. And not just your bullshit clean Bacardi stuff either - good, funky, sailor-style rum. It mellows out a little bit with time and exposure, revealing the oaky, nutty, leathery presence of the base spirit. The rum is also the first thing that hits your tongue with a spiced sweetness, full of molasses, allspice, and dried pineapple. But that transitions seamlessly into a more traditional scotchiness, with oak, grain, caramel, and a little cinnamon. The finish is all about dates and light smoke, plus a really cool lingering hogo character, the distinctive funk that you get from pot-still rum.

I'm sorry - can you tell I absolutely love this stuff? It pulls a really neat trick by successfully merging two categories of spirit that I would never have put together. But oh, what possibilities that opens.

Dalmore 12 Year

About: A cool bottle here, obviously, the stag's head on which always reminds me of Skyfall. This bottle gets the distinction of being the only northern Highlands whiskey on this list. Three out of the five are from the concentrated Speyside region; Glenrothes and Macallan are practically across the street from each other, and Balvenie isn't much further away. But the Highlands are the part of Scotland that you visualize when you think about the country, the green, misty part with rolling hills. They make an appropriately robust and rustic whiskey, and I also like the level of detail they provide about its production. When I want a nice, rich whiskey, I reach for this one; it drinks like it's years older than it really is.

Tasting Notes: The nose is especially rich on this one, a lot like a good brandy, with tons of butterscotch, toffee, and a little bit of roasted coffee bean. The palate features orange peel, hazelnut, raisin, vanilla, and some toasted biscuit; that turns a lot smokier as it sits, developing a hefty dose of peat and some burned-caramel bitterness with a little nutmeg. The vanilla and coffee flavors carry through into a long and smoky finish, which is there to make sure you damn well know you're drinking scotch. And the good stuff, too.


So, folks, there you have it. I can't claim that this is a super-refined list, but it was fun to put together, and I expect that it will only keep growing! Even while working on this, I've tried a few other whiskies down at my local watering hole and expanded my horizons yet further. If I find something really good, you can be assured that it'll show up here.

Peat & Molasses

We had what I'd have to describe as a dinner party last night, and in planning the menu I had a bit of a revelation. Instead of driving myself nuts trying to create individual cocktails for our guests while cooking at the same time, why not use what I learned about creating bottled cocktails and batch something out to keep everybody happy? This worked out as well as I'd hoped, though it was a thirsty bunch, and I had to refill the pitcher with my mystery cocktail and a pitcher-sized Corey Taylor in short order. Still, kept everybody's glasses full and kept me sane. Might be a new party trick!

I'll include both the full bottled proportion and a single-serving recipe below.

16 oz (2 oz) amber rum (Appleton VX)

6 oz (3/4 oz) blended scotch (Famous Grouse)

6 oz (3/4 oz) sweet vermouth (Cocchi Torino)

2 oz (1/4 oz) amontillado sherry

2 oz (1/4 oz) Casoni 1814 (Aperol or Cappelletti would work too)

8 oz water (omit for single-serving)

For the bottled version, combine everything and keep refrigerated until ready to serve, then add to a pitcher with several large ice cubes. For the single-size version, stir and strain over a large cube in an old-fashioned glass.

Corey Taylor

I followed Dave Arnold's advice for coriander syrup, which proves to be an interesting replacement for ginger syrup. It's a neat substitution in one of my favorite highballs.

2 oz blended scotch (Famous Grouse this time)
1 oz coriander syrup*
3/4 oz lime juice
3-4 oz soda water (to taste)

Build over ice in a tall glass. Large ice cubes are recommended.

*This is a simplified version of a recipe from Liquid Intelligence, but it's still a bit more involved than my typical syrup method, so I figure I should explain. Combine 1 1/2 cups sugar, 1 1/2 cups water, 1/2 cup of coriander seeds, 1 teaspoon black peppercorns, and 1-2 whole dried arbol chilies in a saucepan over medium heat. Bring the whole thing up to a simmer until the sugar dissolves and then blend to break up the solids. You can do this in an actual blender (and I would have with a larger batch) or very carefully apply a hand blender. Remove from the heat and let the whole thing infuse until you're happy with the flavor, at which point run it through a strainer and a coffee filter while it's still warm.

I was terrified that this name would turn out to be a character from 90210 or something, but he's actually a heavy metal guy. Much more appropriate!

St. Andrew's Sour

Hey, a picture! I actually remembered to take one this time, before the entire thing disappeared.

This is a really straightforward sour, complicated only by a wee dash of bitters and my beloved blueberry syrup (I think I'm making more when this batch is through). There's a little bit of soda in here already, but the flavor's concentrated enough that you could pull this out into a highball if you increased the volumes.

2 oz scotch (blended Speyside)
3/4 oz lemon juice
1/2 oz blueberry syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Shake and strain over fresh ice in a rocks glass, top off with a brief splash of soda water (~1 oz). Garnish with a lemon wheel if you like (I juiced my last lemon instead).

Yeah, okay, this is just a cold version of another recent cocktail, but who cares? Versatile stuff, this blueberry syrup!

Accretion Disc

Ah, now here we go. A proper wintery drink featuring my previously-featured blueberry syrup, and equipped with a fantastically nerdy name. I submit that there is none better, at least this time of year.

2 oz scotch (a Speyside blend)
3/4 oz blueberry syrup (up to 1 oz, to taste)
1/4 oz lemon juice

Add 6-7 oz boiling water to a heatproof mug; add the above and stir to combine. Garnish with some ground nutmeg.

Poison Apple

I think I'm about ready to go back to work. It's not like I have a problem with day drinking (as in, I don't completely frown on the practice) but I'm pretty sure that drinking scotch while the sun's up is some kind of warning sign.

2 oz scotch (a blended Speyside; Pig's Nose would do)
1/4 oz sweet vermouth
1/4 oz Cynar
1/4 oz pineapple syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl Bitters

Stir over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass. If we were going all-out here, I'd say garnish with a dehydrated slice of cacao nib-crusted pineapple, but anything less would be foolish.

Don't worry about the name - I realize there's no actual apple in this. Like most of my cocktail names it's derived from a whole chain of barely-coherent puns that rattle around my skull whenever I think about such things.

Bobhouse

A solid highball, suitable for consuming in the winter months.

2 oz sour orange juice (nice sour oranges are good for this; you can also supplement navel orange juice with citric acid)
1 1/2 oz blended scotch
1/2 oz Loonshine
1/2 oz squash-brown sugar syrup
1/2 oz pineapple syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Shake and pour unstrained into... well, any glass really. What is this "gar-nish" you speak of?

House of Scotch Old-Fashioned (#1)

Finally, a picture! And an original recipe to boot... uh, except that it's actually just an old-fashioned, my old standby. It's all a remix, man. I still thought the result was worthy of recording.

Now, as you can see, I used a most delicious whiskey for this particular drink. This Balvenie Caribbean Cask is tasty stuff, but in truth just about any decent, reasonably-aged Speyside should do the job, or perhaps a decent blend like Monkey Shoulder. A little dash of a smooth aged rum would be a good complement if you go that route.

2 oz Speyside scotch
1/4 oz cranberry syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl Bitters

Stir and strain over a few large chunks of ice (or maybe a single large cube) in an old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a couple of brandied cranberries, or dispense with garnish entirely.

Yes, that red bottle is a diner-style ketchup squeeze bottle. Yes, I have yellow mustard ones as well; that's how I tell them apart in the fridge. Yes, I got them from a surplus shop for about a quarter each. No, I don't care what anyone says.

I've got an entire week off from the day job (minus Thanksgiving prep time) so I think you might hear more from me for a few days! There will undoubtedly be cocktails, although I've got a pisco post that I've been meaning to finish up after it deleted itself the first time, a rundown of a punch I created for my mother-in-law's birthday, and my wife suggested cobbling together a sangria post out of the vague method that I have in constant rotation. It might be a pretty crazy week.

Applewood

The highly-effective pairing of scotch and apple brandy in that last drink got me thinking about other options.  I'm pretty sure I've combined tequila and applejack before, so why not mezcal?  In fact, why not all three?

3/4 oz scotch (Dalmore 12 Year this time)
3/4 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy
1/4 oz mezcal (Del Maguey Vida Mezcal Joven)
1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Cinzano again)
1 dash Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters
1 drop orange blossom water

Stir briefly over ice and strain into an old-fashioned glass.  I don't understand this "garnish".

I tried this originally as a scaffa-style unchilled drink, but the dilution (more than the chilling) really seems to help take the edge off.  I might try this with a bit of chilled water rather than ice next time.

Back To Normal

We had a few friends over yesterday for an evening of food and drink, including some couples that haven't joined us before.  I got to sling drinks all night, and at one point I assembled this one as a change from our pitcher of punch and the mostly bourbon-based cocktails I'd made up to that point.

A couple guys joined me in the kitchen during the processed and looked overly impressed, so I started explaining to them my theory of cocktail remixing.  I'll have to put together a detailed post on this sometime soon, but in brief: you can make any number of "original" drinks simply by swapping similar ingredients out for one another.  A lot of classics were created this way: bartenders started with the Manhattan, swapped out the whiskey for gin to make the Martinez, and then swapped out the sweet vermouth for dry to make the Martini.  It happens all the time!  I actually have a pretty neat book that lays out this entire concept (they even boil it down to about 10 master ratios) which I quite like.  It's a really good pick for novices and I really wish I'd come up with the idea first.

Anyway, this one's a remix of a Manhattan, or a Rob Roy, I suppose.  It substitutes scotch as the core spirit (I'll have to do a single malt scotch post soon...) with a touch of apple brandy for character, and splits the standard sweet vermouth with Cocchi Americano.  Easy.  Assemble as follows:

1 1/2 oz scotch (I used my Macallan 10 Year Fine Oak, but a decent blend's fine too)
1/2 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy
1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Cinzano, which is a pretty standard example)
1/2 oz Cocchi Americano
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir over ice and strain over a large cube in an old-fashioned glass; garnish with a large swath of orange peel.

The name is a hopefully-recognizable tribute to Mitch Hedberg, specifically one of my favorite one-liners: "I remixed a remix, it was back to normal!"

Cold Smoke Punch

I feel like I've been neglecting you guys lately.  Not my normal sort of mixological rut lately - just a lot of classics, unintentional self-cribbing, and unsuccessful experimentation.  Happens to the best of us, I guess.

At any rate, here's something finally worth sharing: a fairly old-school style punch that still appears to be somewhat original, at least based on a quick perusal of David Wondrich's indispensable reference.

1 1/2 oz scotch whiskey (again, I'll call it what I damn well want)
1 1/2 oz brewed black tea (pretty standard English Breakfast, cooled to room temperature, on its way to becoming iced tea)
3/4 oz peach-brown sugar syrup
3/4 oz lime juice

Combine over a large ice cube and stir vigorously.  Grate some nutmeg on top in classic punch style, if you insist.

I originally reached for bourbon when putting this one together, because it seemed like a natural fit for the peach syrup, but I happened on a new bottle of Macallan 10 instead.  This turned out to be a happy accident.  You could probably use just about whatever blended scotch you like.

Briny Deep

Okay, fine, I admit it - I wanted a Pitch Black, I was out of vermouth, and I subbed in another amaro instead.  So what?  It's tasty enough to merit its own name anyway.

1 1/4 oz Cutty Sark Prohibition Edition
1 oz Averna
1 oz Cynar
1/4 oz overproof dark rum (did you know that Gosling's makes a 151-proof version?)

Stir over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass; garnish with a small pinch of salt on top of the cube.

This makes for an impressively dark and sultry drink.  Worth hunting down the amaros for, if you ask me.

Pitch Black

I've been keen to try other scotch-based renditions of the Negroni/Boulevardier since the wonderful success of the Real McCoy.  Since I had a newly-purchased bottle of Averna at hand, this seemed like a natural substitution for Campari.

1 1/2 oz Cutty Sark Prohibition Edition

1 oz Averna

1 oz sweet vermouth (Primitivo Quiles this time)

1 dash orange bitters (Regan's No. 6)

1 dash Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter (from my rapidly-dwindling supply)

Stir and strain over a large cube into an old-fashioned glass; add a pinch of salt on top of the cube and gently stir again.

The Real McCoy

After suggesting a scotch-based Boulevardier/Negroni variation in my last blended scotch review, I just had to try one.  It took a couple tries, but this turned out very nicely.

1 1/2 oz Cutty Sark Prohibition Edition
1 oz Campari
1 oz sweet vermouth (Martini & Rossi)
1 dash orange curacao (Pierre Ferrand, always)

Stir and strain over a large ice cube; garnish with a wide swath of orange peel and top with a scant pinch of salt on top of the cube.

I'm departing with myself in requiring a garnish on this one, but you really must try it with the salt.  I dunno what it is, exactly - the salt reinforces the slightly briny, peaty character of the scotch and keeps the dash of liqueur from making the drink too sweet.  I may try a careful use of salt in other cocktails as well...

Spirits: Worthy Blends to Try

I enjoyed my previous experimental gin review so much that I just had to try another.  We'll keep to categories that I think are somewhat neglected by mixologists, this time blended scotch whiskey.

Hold the howls of outraged derision while I reiterate that I don't fuck around with this "whiskey" vs. "whisky" nonsense.  According to David Wondrich, who I consider a sage and reliable source on all historically spiritous matters, this is a purely modern convention, and to me it doesn't have any logical basis either.  Therefore I choose to consider it along the same lines as the minor spelling differences you find between standard UK and US English, and go with my personal preference.  I won't dispute your right to spell the word however you damn well please, but I insist on the same basic courtesy.  So, yeah: I'm reviewing blended scotch whiskeys here, deal with it.

Ahem.  Let's review some other terminology.  For those not in the know, scotch whiskey comes in a couple of different tiers, labelled by regulated terms (the same way that terms like "bourbon" or "Champagne" are subject to specific standards).  Single malt can only be bottled from a single distillery and is generally considered higher quality, while blended scotch can be mixed from multiple distillers and can contain some proportion of grain spirit.  There's also the somewhat controversial "blended malt", which indicates a blend of single malts without any grain spirit.  The products I'm drawing from here all come from the latter two categories.  Why bother when single malt is generally considered best?  Well, here are three good reasons:

1. I'm primarily focused on cocktails here, and it makes little sense to use a top-quality spirit known for its nuanced flavor in a mixed drink.  If you insist on single malt, you're probably going to drink it straight anyway, and I complement you on a fine choice.
2. Blends are typically less expensive than single malts.  Most of the products covered here cost about $30 at retail, and it's tough to find a decent single malt at that price, let alone a really good one.  Like cognac and other popular spirits, premium quality costs a lot with scotch.  I like using top quality when I can, but I don't have an unlimited budget and I doubt you do either.
3. The challenge of finding a diamond in the rough!  I consider this one reason enough.  Scotch is a pretty wide category, and there are plenty of poor selections out there.  However, the popularity of single malt and its escalating price point means there's healthy interest in affordable alternatives, and much better stuff hitting the market than in years past.  I for one am happy to give the various offerings a try and share my experience with you here.

So, without further ado, let's review.

#1: Pig's Nose

Pig's Nose is not an especially complex whiskey, but it's certainly a well-balanced and effective one.  Part of that comes from its mixed heritage, which cross-breeds Speyside, Islay, and Lowlands malts to great effect.  On the palate it's got a bit of soft grain, some floral character akin to chamomile, that classic scotch peatiness, and a hint of black tea bitterness.  All of that is carried by a moderately rich, smooth body, much more so than with bigger-name blends (hence the tagline "smooth as a pig's nose").  One of the main reasons I like this is that the body stands up to mixing the same way that a decent bourbon or brandy would.  This makes for some interesting substitutions; a Scotch Sour is certainly fun to try, especially if you go all-out with a Penicillin Cocktail.  Or keep things simple with a scotch & soda or Mamie Taylor (perhaps my favorite highball, and Pig's Nose does it right).

#2: Great King St. Artist's Blend

If Pig's Nose lies at one end of the blend spectrum, Artist's Blend lies at the other; it's still smooth, don't worry, but far more subtle.  It's primarily composed of very soft Lowlands whiskies; the very pale, slightly greenish color is a dead giveaway.  The palate starts off slowly, and gradually escalates into a complex wave of green apple, pear, almond, and dried herbs with a bready feel.  The finish winds up being modestly grainy with a bit of smoke thrown in, and a little more subtle herb character (bay leaf, maybe?).  Subtlety makes this probably my favorite of these blends; when I drink this, it's usually neat.  However, it also makes for one of my all-time personal favorite creations, the Golden Carriage.  Looking back at that recipe, I'm really surprised that I didn't write it for this specific brand, as I did with this one; should probably go back and fix that.  

#3: Cutty Sark Prohibition Edition

This is an interesting blend, one that I probably wouldn't have tried were it not for a rather positive review.  Supposedly commemorating a famous rum-runner, this is bottled at a nice punchy 100 proof, probably for the sake of novelty.  Same goes for the pitch-black bottle.  Despite this, it's got an interesting profile, with intense sweet toffee flavors, hazelnut, and orange peel, capped off by a hint of coffee bitterness and a classic, tarry finish.  All of that puts me a bit in mind of bourbon, suggesting substitutions like a scotch-based Boulevardier.  If you'd rather simplify, strip out the Campari for a straightforward Rob Roy, or dial back to an Improved Cocktail in the spirit of Imbibe!; this blend gets along really well with orange curacao.

#4: Monkey Shoulder

Monkey Shoulder is one of those controversial "blended malts", being a mix of three individual malts that includes some well-known names (Balvenie and Glenfiddich).  All of its constituents come from Speyside, so you could consider this a sort of regional blend if you like.  The name sounds cute, but it actually comes from a sort of repetitive stress injury (think tennis elbow) that sometimes happened to the guy with the important job of stirring the protean whiskey with a big wooden paddle.  It's got a very nice, classic grainy character throughout, spiked with a little bit of orange, mango, and... yep, banana on the palate.  The finish is spicy with a hint of raisin and smoke behind it, but very classic Speyside.  This is really the closest you can get to single-malt quality out of a blend, and it's hard to argue with the price point.  For that reason I use it in spirit-focused scotch cocktails like the Rob Roy, Remember the Maine, or Affinity Cocktail.

Well, I was hoping for a total of 5 again, but unfortunately I've exhausted my knowledge of actual quality blends.  I'm sure there are plenty more out there.  Scotch is a growing category in the spirits world, and with prices rising for top-quality single malts, more blends are rising up to fill the middle shelves.  Compass Box (the company behind the Artist's Blend) makes quite a few that I would love to try and which I'm sure would qualify for recommendation here.  Maybe I'll get back to expanding this list in future.  For now, enjoy.

The Great Frost

It's hellishly cold here, and that means cocktails are in order to warm the bones.  Scotch is always an appropriate choice in such matters.  I'm sorry that this one is so brand-specific but I can't imagine this combination working quite any other way.

2 oz Great King Street Artist's Blend scotch (good, good stuff, very mellow)
1/4 oz squash-sage syrup (roasted squash with fresh sage and brown sugar; tastes like Thanksgiving)
1/4 oz sweet vermouth (I used Dolin)
1/4 oz homemade apple bitters (yeah, sorry; I used the apple bitters recipe from Brad Parsons' Bitters book, which I will no doubt be experimenting with further)
1 dash Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter bitters (yum)
1 dash Bitter Truth Celery Bitters (also yum, easily the best celery bitters on the market)

Stir and strain over a large cube in an old-fashioned glass.  Do not let garnish cloud your judgment.

Gondola Hook

The merging of two cocktails: the Gondolier and the Red Hook.

2 oz blended scotch (I've been digging Pig's Nose lately and it works well here)

1/3 oz Luxardo maraschino liqueur
1/3 oz Punt e Mes

Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with lemon peel if you like.

I really enjoy this particular combination of accents.  I could see a number of different "Hooks" with different bases - the Boat Hook with navy-strength gin, the Captain's Hook with rum, the Golden Hook with cognac...