I had the opportunity to attend a college party this past weekend and, as it was 80’s themed, I couldn’t pass it up. “Aren’t you a little old to be going to college parties?” you might ask. Well… yes. Yes, I am. But that’s beside the point. You see, I’ve never been to these sorts of shindigs, and I found the whole idea fascinating. Like Donnie Brasco, I infiltrated the college lair and found out the kids’ dark secrets. Mwahahaha.

It was not nearly as exciting as I’d imagined, although it afforded me the opportunity to sample some Everclear, so it was decidedly worth it.

Here’s the thing about this drink. You don’t shoot it unless you’re already missing a few million brain cells. Just don’t do it. I had a small sip out of the bottom of the bottle used for making the evening’s jungle juice mixture and let me tell you, I wish I’d stayed in the jungle. Everclear is nasty on its own. The smell is straight astringent and the taste is how I imagine sipping gasoline might be. I would rather chew glass than do that again.

In the jungle juice, however, it was quite pleasant. It was mixed in the appropriate proportions, so it gave a slight kick and an enveloping warmth that lingered well after the sip. In my mind, this is the only sensible way to drink this evil behemoth.

Everclear has other uses as well, like in cooking and furniture polishing; it’s even adaptable enough to be used as fuel in camping stoves.

The price can vary depending upon where you are, geographically speaking (and the legalities of the spirit in your area), however, a 750ml bottle of 190-proof Everclear will usually set you back under twenty bones. Just be careful, okay?

On a side note, anyone who can tell me exactly how this is done gets a cookie.

It’s a cozy little pub, with chic decor and a warm atmosphere amidst dim lighting – perfect for meeting a random stranger whom you might eventually find out is not so attractive, after all. Fortunately for me, that game is long in my past. The liquor selection in this place is pretty nice; they stock Hendrick’s gin, which makes the best gin & tonic you will ever have. This particular night, however, I was looking for something darker. You see, I’ve been on this kick of beer and light spirits and I felt I needed to get back to my roots. Luckily, this place allowed me to do just that.

At first I didn’t even see the bottle of The Glenlivet 18 Year staring me right in the face. I could see were Johnnie Walker Red, Black, Gold and Blue. I felt defeated… but off to the right – just a shelf away, was my adventure for the evening. I was elated. It wasn’t The Glenlivet 12 Year, but the 18. This was going to be something special. I ordered it neat and added a small splash of municipal tap water – you know, for flavor.

The 18 Year is slightly darker than the 12 Year, although now that I think about it I could very well have been tricked by Sapphire’s sexy mood-lighting. The aging has done this one well, though, as the subtle aromas of fruit have been enhanced by the brilliance of oaky sweetness. On the first sip, you get the oak in all of its glory, while the finish lingers with the warmth and hint of ash. Each subsequent sip becomes smoother and smoother until it’s just liquid silk dancing on your tongue, bringing you peace and joy in the harsh winter months. This easily became one of my favorites.

At about sixty-five dollars per bottle, it’s a bit of a pop, but hey, it’s really tasty and you deserve to treat yourself every now and then. Right?

In addition to keeping it simple, I’m never caught with my pants down when the bartender comes up and asks what I’ll have. One cannot always be prepared, and one needs to be quick on their feet when it comes to these sorts of decisions, lest one be viewed as a dolt or worse by their company. This will be on the final, so pay attention.

As I was saying, I’m not much into big mixed drinks as I find them distasteful. There has been a perpetual exception for the past few weeks, however, and that is the Long Island Iced Tea. Made with vodka, gin, tequila, rum, triple sec, sour mix, and Coke, this is both one of the most complex drinks one can make as well as one of the simplest. It’s quite simple to remember all the ingredients, and it’s not like it matters, anyway. This is simply a delightful-tasting way to get silly.

When going out to various establishments, you may be tempted to try their various takes on the Long Island. This can be a fun experiment in certain places – particularly those which make it a habit out of crafting unusual and creative beverages. I would caution against this, however, in chain restaurants and bars, which tend to throw expensive ingredients into the mix in an effort to jack up the price, while disregarding the matter of taste, which is what the drink is supposed to bring to the table anyway.

So when a drink is advertised with Grey Goose vodka, know that you can use Ketel One and be fine. When Patron is parroted in the description, opt for 1800 instead. Long story short, you can get a great tasting drink cheaper, and it will go down all the same. And if you’re getting an extremely mixed drink like a Long Island, the kind of booze you add to it won’t matter much anyway.

Today’s recipe is a simple example of how you can use preserves to create your own fruit-based cocktails in the winter. I’m using raspberry preserves, but you can use blueberry, lemon, apple… whatever you’d like. Since it’s a winter cocktail, we’re using cognac as the base liquor (it warms you so), but any whiskey (save Scotch) could work in its stead. I’m using St. Germain, an elderflower liqueur that’s grown popular in the last few years, to offset the tart raspberry notes with something a bit more complex and delicate, but you could substitute in whatever floats your boat. Want to mix strawberry jam with Midori (melon liqueur)? Apple jelly and limoncello? Get creative — and if you come up with a winning combination, let us know in the comments.

Raspberry-Elderflower Warmer

• 2 oz. cognac
• 1 oz. St. Germain liqueur
• 1 tbsp raspberry jam or preserves

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice, starting with the jam. Shake thoroughly to combine, and strain into a cocktail glass.

Okay, now that we’ve had time to rationalize our decision, what are we going to do? That’s right – we’re going to throw away our new year’s resolution on something worthwhile, like a delicious cream liqueur!

Hey, not so fast! Did you really think we were going to order a Baileys on the rocks and leave it at that? What do you think this is, drink time with Old Greg? Forget that noise, Chavez. What we’re drinking tonight is a little African gem called Amarula.

Never heard of it? Well that’s just fine because after today, you’ll never forget its name. A South African beverage, Amarula drives its name and deliciousness from the fruit of the Marula tree. This particular fruit is a favorite treat for elephants, who would eat the fermented fruit from the ground and then stumble around all silly and inebriated. Now, who wants to be a drunk little elephant? You do!

So let’s have a glass of Amarula on the rocks. Yeah, I know – it looks like Baileys. You keep telling me that. Trust me, it’s not Baileys. Yeah, it’s got that beige, creamy look to it, and it’s smooth as silk, yes. The taste, however, is something else entirely. Just take a sip and let me know what you think.

Of course it’s good, you fool. When have I ever steered you wrong? The flavor’s sweet, with a hint of fruit. I couldn’t tell you what a Marula fruit actually tastes like, so Amarula may be completely inaccurate. That doesn’t matter to us, though, because it’s damn good!

Hey, hey, hey! Are you on your third glass? Come on, now. It’s only 8 o’clock and this thing’s 17% ABV is going to make you stumble around singing Hakuna Mattata. Ah, what the Hell… Have at it. You deserve it, you know? You kept your resolution for a whole two weeks.

Wait, you want to buy a bottle? No, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to buy me one, too. Look, you’re welcome, but there’s no need to thank me for showing you this drink. It’s what I do. Look, the next time we’re at the liquor store, we’ll pick up a bottle. It’s only around 17 bucks, after all.

Hey! Get off the floor, butt head!

On a cocktail menu, I saw that a Zombie had 151 proof rum in it, which explains the name.  Obviously this rum will succeed in making someone intoxicated quite quickly, but is there any value to having that liquor in my cabinet?

It’s true. The main value in overproof rums is the high-octane alcohol content — almost twice that of a normal rum. Many folks would see an intrinsic value in stashing a bottle of that ilk somewhere in the back of their liquor cabinet. (Those are the sort of folks who anticipate, with glee, an impromptu visit from one of their old fraternity brothers.) I’d argue that it’s fun — and educational — to be able to whip up, serve, and contemplate a correct Zombie at some point in your life, and considering the alcohol content you’ve astutely observed, that educational session might best be conducted in the safety of your own home.

(This seems like a good place to mention that 151-proof rum is available in both light and dark forms. The former is basically a gamier version of vodka — the latter is like molasses that burns.)

But you’re asking something a bit different. Is there any real reason to keep 151-proof rum in your home? (Perhaps a better translation of your question would be, “is there any sane reason?”) I can think of a couple. But none of them are completely sane, and all of them revolve around the facts behind the “proof” scale.

Supposedly, back in colonial times, alcohol’s strength was determined by mixing a small amount of gunpowder with a small amount of the liquor in question, then attempting to spark the mixture. If the gunpowder still exploded, the liquor was at least 50 percent alcohol by volume — or at least, 100 proof. As the scale has evolved, the “proof” number has become twice the liquor’s alcohol-by-volume percentage. (Want to go further with the gunpowder? A writer for the Atlantic discovered you can use it to flavor your drinks. Really.)

So, what is 151-proof rum good for (at 75.5 percent alcohol by volume), other than accelerated drunkenness? Fire!

It’s essential for making a decent Bananas Foster (which is really a dessert, not a drink, I know, but I don’t think you’ll mind me including it.) Mix up butter, brown sugar, and spices, and saute banana slices in the mixture. Then, add a half-cup of 151-proof rum to the mixture. Stir it, heat it for 15 seconds, turn off the burner, strike a match, and light the bananas on fire. Once the flames die down, serve it over ice cream. It’s delicious, and great for effect.

151-proof rum would also be great for making some sort of a mixture of the Blue Blazer and a hot buttered rum, though if you’re skeptical about even storing a bottle of overproof liquor, I’m sure you’d be doubly skeptical about lighting a drink on fire and pouring it between two mugs. 151 is essential for making an honest-to-god Scorpion Bowl (which, if you don’t know, is basically a Chinese-restaurant form of a Zombie, served in a giant soup bowl, with two-foot long straws .) But again, probably not your cup of tea. So at the end of the day, I’d say if you’re hesitant at all about the 151, you can get by without it. Your drinking experience will safer for it, if not less exciting.

Yes? Good.

As New Year’s celebrations tend to go, mine was actually quite relaxing… and quite amusing. On a short retreat to a house in the Poconos, the festivities began by the fire pit. There were some delicious brews before dinner, which was had with a charming Spanish red wine. Afterward we went on a Scotch tasting mission and before you knew it, the drinking games were happening.

One in particular involved a small roulette table and numbered shot glasses. Amazingly enough, the night did not end in expulsion of the expertly-cooked meal that we had earlier. On the contrary, many of us got to experience something quite new – cake flavored vodka, courtesy of Three Olives. Produced in the U.K. by Proximo Spirits, Three Olives vodka comes in a variety of flavors (currently eighteen). Their most notable flavors include triple shot espresso, bubble, vanilla, and root beer. Proximo is the maker of other great brands such as 1800 Tequila and The Kraken Black Spiced Rum.

I’d picked up the cake-infused vodka for giggles a few weeks ago and had a chance to try it before the New Year’s shindig, so I knew what to expect. The liquor smells as you’d expect – it’s got a full-on sweet smell reminiscent of yellow cake with vanilla frosting and a lingering smack of sinus-singeing vodka burn. The vodka pours clear, and if chilled with ice, gains a nice cloudy appearance. The taste’s very sweet up front with a slight burn on the finish and the lingering taste of vanilla after the shot. Chilling is not necessary, but does take the slight burn away.

This vodka is an excellent with traditional mixers like orange juice or cranberry juice, and goes astonishingly well with a refreshing Coca Cola. Yes, I said Coca Cola. Don’t use Pepsi – that would be a waste of perfectly good vodka.

At around $20 for a 750ml, Three Olives is an affordable way to throw some variety into your fun-filled evenings. Now that I’ve conquered the cake, I’m looking forward to trying their other flavors.

So why are we talking about kamikaze shots? Well, the jingoistic name aside, they’re slightly more refined than your average shot recipe. They feature real liquors and liqueurs (sure, you could use imitation triple sec, but at least Cointreau, a real orange liqueur, exists… in shots that use sour apple or peach schnapps, there IS no “better” bottle to substitute. ) Mainly, I mention kamikazes because if you ARE planning a party, and you DO want to serve shots, but you DON’T want to serve straight liquor, these are about as good as you can do.

Kamikaze shots

• 1 oz. vodka
• 1/2 oz Cointreau or orange liqueur
• 1/2 oz Rose’s sweetened lime juice

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice. Shake to combine and chill, and strain into a shot glass.

Note that you can make flavored kamikaze shots by either using flavored vodka, or by using a different flavored liqueur instead of Cointreau (Midori would make a melon kamikaze, Chambord would make a raspberry kamikaze, etc.) Just remember, more than one or two of these will have exactly the effect you think they will. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I take no responsibility for what happens, and remember — each of these counts as a full drink. So drink responsibly, never drive drunk, and have a great New Year. We’ll see you in 2012.

All kidding aside, I really, really hate a little peppermint liqueur called Rumple Minze. It’s like Satan and Frosty the Snowman got together one day and had a love-child nine months later that could breathe fire and ice at the same time, and make you vomit uncontrollably. Some may find the taste of peppermint lovely – I do not. This is actually my least favorite time of the year because I’m having peppermint candy canes shoved in my face everywhere I go. A word of warning: if you ever see me sucking on a candy cane, it will be the non-curved end, and I’ll be doing it in an effort to craft a shiv to stab the person who gifted me the cursed thing.

That being said, there are few things I like more during a cold winter afternoon to cap off a meal than a nice cup of coffee with a half-ounce of Rumple Minze stirred in gently. That’s a nice, mellow flavor that isn’t overpowering and melds with the bitterness of the coffee to create a nice wool blanket of delicious all over your tongue. If you’re feeling adventurous, I suppose you could go for a full shot of Rumple Minze, but that’s a bit too much in my opinion.

Rumple Minze should be used sparingly, if at all, which is why I’ve had the same 750ml bottle for over a year now and it’s only about halfway through. You see, suggesting a shot of Rumple Minze in my house goes over about as well as a fart in church.

Truth be told, I didn’t even find out about how good Rumple Minze is with coffee until after I’d been given it as a gift. Even though it can be bought for around $20-$25, I wouldn’t dare ever buy it.

I mean look, I’m not saying that Rumple Minze is a disgusting liqueur that only has one redeeming quality; I’m just saying that Rumple Minze is a disgusting liqueur that only has one redeeming quality.

Back in the day, the common vodka varieties found at a typical get-together were either Smirnoff or Absolut. I was never a fan of these, truth be told, and would always tend to water them down with mixers. Grey Goose was always out of my price range, even though it had that smoothness that I wanted.

It wasn’t until I’d been well into my gin phase that I found a vodka that was both affordable and smooth; Ketel One. Distilled from 100% wheat at the Nolet Distillery in Schiedam, the Netherlands, Ketel One has been in production for over 300 years – since 1691, to be exact.

On the nose, Ketel One is gentle. There is barely any odor to be detected at all, but what is there is the slight tinge that whispers “Hallo, een goede vriend”. The taste is equally as exquisite. Almost flavorless, save for a slight bitterness on the finish, this vodka leaves practically no burn to speak of and maintains its flavor the whole way down.

If you’re looking to give a slight bite to a cocktail or a martini, this is one vodka that won’t bite too hard, which is nice when you’re out with friends on a Tuesday night. Know what I mean?

At around $20-$25 per 750ml bottle, Ketel One is an affordable and great tasting vodka that rivals others such as Grey Goose for the sheer smoothness of the drink. And seriously, what’s an extra five bucks if you’re looking at a drink whose primary flavor is burning?

I’ve been to this place on numerous occasions – the wait staff is friendly and the bartenders are knowledgeable about their craft. Truth be told, I always feel like an amateur when I venture into the tequileria – they really know their shtick! It’s reassuring, though, because I know that I have never once been steered in the wrong direction.

Why, it was in this very restaurant that I skeptically discovered what is, in my opinion, the tastiest and most cost-effective shooting tequila I’ve yet to sample. I present to you, Milagro Silver.

Produced (once again) by the folks at William Grant & Sons, Milagro is crafted by a company that has a handle on how to make quality booze. From Scotch, to gin, to vodka and beyond, these guys have a propensity for doing it up right. I actually am in fear of the day that I sample a product of theirs that I find distasteful – it will truly be a sad day.

Aaannnnyway…. Milagro Silver comes in a cool looking bottle, which is important when you’re trying to get a foothold in a market dominated by tequilas that appear on highly acclaimed shows such as The Jersey Shore. This tequila isn’t all looks, however. 100% from agave, Milagro doesn’t mess around in the taste department. Its bold and full agave taste is melded exquisitely with the taste of lemon peel, and includes a spicy finish. And unlike many tequilas, Milagro smells as sweet as it tastes, without the astringent odor that comes along with many cheaper brands.

Whether you’re looking to mix it up in a margarita, shoot it straight, or add some lime and sip away, this is one of the most versatile and well-rounded tequilas I’ve had the pleasure of tasting. Not only is this spirit easy on the palate, however, it’s also easy on the wallet. For roughly 20 bucks per 750ml, you can’t go wrong with this one.

I don’t always drink tequila, but when I do, I make sure it’s something I won’t regret the next morning.

I urge you to do the same.

I decided that because I was at a sushi place that it would be apropos to order something with Japanese flair. The night wasn’t as cold as the nights prior, so I opted for something cool and refreshing. A saketini would do just the trick.

A saketini is really any kind of drink you can come up with that involves sake and a cocktail glass. Sake, of course, being that benevolent rice spirit from Japan which is typically served hot, although being served cold is not unheard of – especially when used in a martini. A traditional saketini recipe calls for 2 and a half ounces of gin, with a quarter of an ounce of sake, along with an olive for garnish. I think this is stupid.

What’s the purpose of making a saketini if all you’re going to be tasting is gin? Thankfully, Hokka Hokka got it right. They blended roughly one and a half ounces each of vodka and sake and garnished it with a cucumber. I must say, this was one fantastic drink. I wonder, though, if you’re going to garnish it with a cucumber, wouldn’t it be more appropriate to be crafting the drink with a little Hendrick’s gin? No matter. It was fantastic as it was.

Don’t be afraid to get your feet wet on this one, by the way. There are many brands of sake to choose from, and many of them are very affordable. Two of the most popular in the United States are Gekkeikan and Hakutsuru respectively. Have a look around at your local mart and ask for advice. Typically you’ll find an employee who can impart on you his sake wisdom. Just don’t go calling him sensei – that would be weird.

Produced by Gallo Vineyards in Modesto, California, this vermouth has at least one good thing going for it right off the bat – California grapes are typically pretty darn good. I attempted to get a bit more information on this product, but unfortunately, a Google search yielded two different Gallo Vineyards in California, neither of which would admit to producing vermouth. Thus, we are left with little to go on, and an adventure on our hands.

The look of Gallo Extra Dry is that of an off-tinge clear. It’s got just enough color to add a slight shimmer to the mix, but not enough to be distinguishable. The nose is equally benign. If I didn’t know any better, I might mistake this for a very weak-scented wine (which isn’t too far off from the truth). There’s the unmistakable aroma of white wine – a clean smell, without the bite or unpleasant vinegary scent I typically associate with cheap wine products. A slight citrus scent lingers as well.

The taste is clean, refreshing, and in desperate need of flavor. If you were to include Gallow Extra Dry in a martini, you’d be equally as well off if you simply stared at the bottle intently for a moment or so before deciding not to use any at all. All you would be achieving by including this vermouth in your martini is to dilute the taste of perfectly good gin. For that matter, you may as well simply pour yourself a glass of chilled gin with some olives as a garnish. I’ll call that one the Gallo Martini.

At roughly six dollars for a pretty large bottle of the stuff, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Vermouth is an inexpensive enough ingredient that you shouldn’t feel the need to be thrifty when making a purchase. Like most items nowadays, you get what you pay for, and this is one product that I can easily suggest skipping.

So: what to do Thanksgiving evening, after dinner, drinks, and dessert, when even the prospect of shifting your newly augmented weight slightly on the couch is painful?

• In this situation, nothing beats Fernet Branca, an Italian herbal liqueur designed to aid digestion after a big meal. Fernet is strong, bitter, and bracing, but it works. Drink it neat or on the rocks, with a ginger ale back. If you’re feeling especially bold, you can shoot it, but I doubt in the state you’ll be in, you’ll be in the mood for such theatrics.
• Another winner is grappa, an Italian digestif made by distilling the left-over spent grape husks after winemaking. Again, grappa is bracing, though in a different way — it has strong mineral flavors, but it’s also a less complex and balanced liqueur, and it’s usually sold fairly young, so it will have the same bite as an unaged whiskey, a poorly distilled/filtered vodka, or a fresh batch of moonshine. But it will make you feel better. Sip it, or mix it into espresso for a “cafe corretto”. (No, I don’t have an espresso maker, either. I just mix it into strong coffee.)
• If you’re a regular reader or a cocktail enthusiast, you probably have an underused bottle of bitters sitting in your liquor cabinet. Shake a dozen (or more) drops into a glass of ginger ale, and nurse that.
• Speaking of strong coffee, the more the better. I usually consider decaffeinated coffee to be sacrilege, but this might be one situation in which decaf may be allowable.
• Even more important — drink plenty of water. Your body needs it to digest, but any wine you drank with dinner, along with any appetizer cocktails or football-viewing beers you consumed before the meal, have stripped a lot of that water out of your system.

Bombay Dry Gin is based on a 1761 gin recipe and, as opposed to some other gins, is infused with its botanicals by passing the boiled water vapor through a copper basket filled with angelica, almonds, cassia bark, licorice, coriander, lemon peel, orris, and juniper berries. These eight botanicals (as opposed to Bombay Sapphire’s ten) meld to create a well-balanced gin that is useful in many applications.

Pouring the drink over a few cubes of ice, we can tell immediately that the nose is heavy on lemon zest and fresh coriander. It’s a refreshing scent, and the taste is equally as refreshing. Filled with the ripe taste of juniper and lemon. The citrus taste here is exhilarating and is a nice pick-me-up after a long workday. The gin finishes off with a brilliant burst of licorice and a bit of fire.

I’d historically crafted my martinis with nothing but Bombay Dry Gin. That went on for a good long while, and with good reason – Bombay has that special versatility that every drink wishes it had. After sampling some other gin varieties, I can safely say that this is easily my favorite. In a martini, with a splash of tonic, on the rocks, or with a squeeze of lime, this is one gin that you can trust won’t be drowned out by additional flavor.

Bombay Dry Gin can be had for around 20 dollars. As a cheaper alternative to Sapphire, BDG stands out as an easy choice.

As a general fan of Jack Daniel’s, I’m deciding to do this up right and abide by the suggestion on the label that simply reads “serve chilled.” I’ve had my Whiskey Disks in the freezer for a few hours, so they’re ready to go. I place one in the bottom of my favorite glass and douse a few ounces of Tennessee Honey over the stone. With a quick swirl we are set.

A much lighter color than Old Number Seven, Tennessee Honey gives off a pale yellow hue and a bright shimmer. The scent of this whiskey liquor is familiar – like if Jack Daniel’s was your best friend, and had a hot younger sister who was woefully off limits, but she always flirts with you and you can never quite get the sweet smell of her perfume out of your nose. Yeah, it’s like that.

As a drink that’s based off of our favorite punch in the throat, Tennessee Honey comes at us not with burning fire, but with a sweet taste that blends honey with America’s favorite whiskey. What I like most about this isn’t that it’s smooth and easy to drink – those are a given – and dangerous if one’s not careful. Instead, I’m a fan of the drink’s honesty. This isn’t some strange-tasting liquor that uses artificial honey flavor to mask the fact that you’re drinking something that’s only available because there’s a niche to fill. This is in fact, a fine marriage of quality whiskey and delicious honey. As a person who’s not a fan of sweet stuff, I can honestly say I’m a fan of this.

I imagine this drink would go well with your favorite cola, or maybe even ginger ale. It’s good enough and cheap enough to take a chance on, so do yourself a favor and pick up a bottle. You won’t regret it.

At any rate, our destination was The Grill at Harryman House, an upscale restaurant in northern Reisterstown, Maryland, just after Reisterstown Road becomes Main Street. The place was elegant, with a classy bar area and pleasantly decorated dining areas. A fireplace sat at one end of the room, but sadly it was not lit. There were wine bottles literally filling the alcoves and shelves built into the walls, evidence that their wine selection would just have to be fantastic.

Upon being seated, we ordered our wine and appetizers. Unfortunately, it took the waiter over twenty minutes of searching before he finally gave up and concluded that they didn’t have it. We ordered a different bottle and received it in short order. I must say, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience – watching the waiter gallop about, pulling bottle after bottle from the shelf was quite entertaining. Our meal was equally as fun, and quite delicious. I’ll spare you the details, however, as the real reason I’m telling you this story is because dessert was simply fantastic. While the lady was busy checking out the various cakes and such, I found a more appropriate selection on the dessert menu –- Scotch.

I decided to try this particular one that I’d never heard of before, Talisker 10 Year, simply due to the one-word description next to its name, which described the flavor as “volcanic.” I can only say that whoever wrote that description knew exactly what they were talking about.

Talisker is a single malt Scotch produced on the Isle of Skye. Its golden hue gives off an immense warmth, especially necessary during these fall (or should I say winter) months. I took mine with a splash of water, although I can easily see this one being just fine without.

Talisker is very medicinal on the nose. In fact, I don’t think I got much out of it except the antiseptic scent of alcohol and smoke until about halfway through the glass. The taste, however, was a different story entirely. When they said volcanic, they certainly meant it. This one is, without a doubt, the smokiest Scotch I’ve had the pleasure of sampling. It’s a very bold taste, and one needn’t fill their mouth in order to get the desired effect. That makes this Scotch perfect for a long, relaxing conversation as the drink will simply never vanish. The finish was pleasant, with a dry sweetness which insisted that I keep coming back for more.

Talisker 10 Year can be had at select retailers for between fifty and sixty dollars, on average, making this a steal if you’re looking for flavorful Scotch at a good price.

So I’m at my favorite Indian restaurant, getting some delicious chicken tikka masala, and I decide to get it “hot”. Bear in mind, this deviates from my normal order of “medium” by an order of magnitude hovering around 3 million. The waitress warned me, but foolishly I pressed on. You ever sweat in fifty-degree weather? I have – it’s an entirely different experience, let me tell you. Yet, no matter how hot the food was, it was that much more tasty; it was like little flavor devils were stabbing the buds on my tongue with little spicy pitchforks for thirty minutes. Yum.

Afterward, I decided to wash it down with a grand classic – The Glenlivet 12 Year single malt Scotch whisky. Ask any person at a bar to name 3 brands of Scotch and they’re likely to say the following: Johnnie Walker, Glenfiddich, and Glenlivet. The Glens have become ubiquitous in bars and restaurants, and Johnnie Walker is that old stalwart that will never go away; this is all for good reason.

Glenlivet 12 Year has grown a reputation for being an accessible Scotch. Its mild aroma and flavor are appealing to neophytes and seasoned Scotch drinkers alike. On this day, I was that seasoned Scotch lover, and I can tell you it was a brilliant plan if I may say so myself.

The youngest of five, Glenlivet 12 Year extends a bright golden hue to the drinker, along with a slightly sweet and fruity aroma that lingers with just a splash of water. The taste is smooth and mellow, has a touch of fruitiness and that sweet Scotch bite. The finish is just a bit spicy, and isn’t a long one, so you’ll be back quickly for another sip in short order.

At about 35-40 dollars, this is a good one to keep on hand for a quick and generous pour.

A Scottish gin, Hendrick’s is produced by William Grant & Sons (who also happen to produce The Balvenie) and has had the honor of being named “Best Gin in the World” by The Wall Street Journal in 2003, and has won various other awards and accolades. One sip, and you’ll know exactly why.

The hook to Hendrick’s is not the juniper essence that permeates the gin – that’s standard, and this gin is anything but standard. Instead, Hendrick’s grabs you with a kiss of cucumber and a hint of rose petal. This adds to the gin’s already complex bouquet, making it the most fragrant and delicious brand of gin I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.

The classic way to enjoy Hendrick’s is on the rocks, with some tonic water and a slice of cucumber for garnish – this is the perfect gin and tonic. Don’t sell this one short, however. Hendrick’s is versatile enough to make even seasoned martini drinkers question their choice of spirits. I’ve found that two and a half ounces of Hendrick’s, along with a half ounce each of dry and sweet vermouth, shaken with the coldest ice you can get, makes for one smashingly perfect martini. That’s just me, though. You should feel free to experiment on your own.

You can find Hendrick’s in its unassuming brown bottle in most liquor stores for around thirty or forty dollars. It’s not nearly as inexpensive as some other brands, but this one is definitely worth the price of admission.

The host of the night – the Scotsman, Adam, asked me how I took it. I replied in kind by telling him “with a small splash of water.” This is the way to do it. The reason I’ve always preferred this method is not because I can’t drink whisky neat. Quite the contrary, actually. I prefer to savor my Scotch with all of the subtle nuances the maker has to offer. Not only does the splash of water bring out the flavor and texture of the whisky, it also adds a nice cloudiness to the drink, making it as much of a delight for the eyes as it is for the tongue.

Like a true gentleman, our host poured a separate glass of water for me to add as much as desired – a small dose or two will suffice; one needn’t get carried away with this sort of thing. After my handiwork had been completed, we retreated back to join the womenfolk in the main room. Their house, I might add, is a lovely place in the suburbs of Philadelphia, nicely decorated and very cozy. I digress…

The evening had been filled with talk of technology and sports; two distinctly different and yet familiar topics with all of us. The golden hue of The Balvenie was a bright accompaniment to the conversation and went very well with the pasta dish I’d been served by the hosts. The flavor of The Balvenie is not unlike most Scotches, with toasty, oaky undertones and the sweet warmth of vanilla. It smells just as sweet and spicy, and the oak is there for all to see. The finish has a tartness that I wasn’t able to place, although the maker’s website states it should taste like licorice. I didn’t catch that, but perhaps it’s because of my inexperience with that particular flavor. Whatever it was pleased me all the same.

On a warm October night in Philadelphia (whatever business the weather has being warm in October, aside), this was most certainly the drink to be had. At around sixty to seventy dollars per bottle, I could see myself picking this one up sometime in the future. All in all, a good evening made even better by a great drink.

- Ian Fleming, Casino Royale

James Bond (whose tastes ranged much more widely than the vodka martinis most associate with him) was right – an expensive mixer is the best way to perk up a cheap drink. The inverse is also true, though. Consider this a warning. Cheap mixers can ruin the best intentions and the finest liquors. Your $15 cosmo, even if it’s mixed with premium liquors like Ketel One and Cointreau, will only taste as good as the splash of cranberry juice that lends it its color.

This can be a serious problem, since many bars these days pour reconstituted cranberry juice from a soda gun – and even the bars that splurge on the bottled stuff often buy “cranberry juice cocktail”, a sweetened version of cranberry juice spiked with water, sugar, and citric acid. You might run into similar problems with the bar’s orange and grapefruit juice (though the pineapple juice bars use, sold in cans, is usually unadulterated.)

I’m not suggesting you fret too much about any of this. The last thing we want to do is make our readers into cocktail snobs. (Bond, while both a bad-a** and a bon vivant, would certainly have been an annoying customer.) Knowing all this, I suggest you either order what you’d like and enjoy the best version of it your favorite bar has to offer, or stick to bottled beer.

Either way, the next time you’re drinking at home, make yourself this – and remember to work with good, 100 percent pure, unsweetened juice. The result, while effortlessly simple to make, is a refreshing cocktail that manages to be fruity with almost no sweetness.  It’s a great seasonal drink, too, combining the flavors of summer and fall to make something that’s just as bracing as it is cooling. You can even add a splash of sparkling water (Perrier or otherwise) to give it a bit of fizz.

Sea Breeze

• 1.5 oz vodka
• 2 oz. cranberry juice (100% juice, unsweetened)
• 2 oz. grapefruit juice (100% juice, unsweetened)
• Splash soda water (optional)

For extra credit: This drink has a sweeter cousin called a bay breeze, which is made by substituting pineapple juice for the grapefruit. The sweetness in the pineapple is balanced nicely by the bitter cranberry. These days, a Bay Breeze made with Malibu (coconut rum) is the cocktail of choice for just about every bachelorette party I serve. Please don’t read that as a recommendation.

You may think I’m just a fan of drinking great Scotch, and you’d be right… sort of. You see, not only is Scotch a lovely drink to sip, but it’s also a pretty excellent palate cleanser. I’m not talking overly smoky or peaty scotches, mind you. I’m talking run-of-the-mill Scotches like Johnnie Walker Black Label, which have a pretty mild taste – these are perfect whiskeys to sip in-between courses. Vodka is also an excellent palate cleanser, and is used customarily in Russia in just such a manner. You think those stories about old Russian men doing shots of vodka in-between courses at the dinner table meant they were all just drunks? Give them more credit than that, won’t you? Hey, some of them may indeed be drunks, but a fair many of them know how to enjoy a proper meal.

Not only is vodka great at enhancing meals, but it’s also a fantastic cleaning solution. Get yourself a big bottle of rail vodka, and you can clean damn near anything. Its uses include cleaning metals, tile floors, sink and shower fixtures, uncoated eyeglasses, and mold, among  many other things. And hey, if you’re one of the unfortunate souls who is plagued with horrible foot odor, fear not – vodka can take care of that as well! Just soak a cloth in some of the cheap stuff and give your tootsies the care they deserve. Vodka will even ease the pain and irritation caused by poison ivy or jellyfish stings!

You might ask, why go through all the trouble to fill spray bottles full of vodka when I can buy household cleaner to do the chores? Well, when you can get yourself a nice big bottle of bottom-shelf vodka for around ten bucks, it winds up becoming much more cost-effective.

If you’ve got any more offbeat uses for your spirits, let us know in the comments!

Perfect.

This isn’t a story about fine Asian cuisine, however. Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside-down. I’d like to take a minute – just sit right there. I’ll tell you how I enjoyed my Scotch with Japanese fare.

Sorry.

As I originally stated, it was a warm night, so I began it with a refreshing Hendrick’s gin and tonic while my lady had a Merlot (even in the summer, she loves her red wine). After finishing off our edamame and nearing the midway point in the main course, I spied a bottle of Scotch that I hadn’t seen at any other restaurant in recent memory.

Excellent.

The whisky in question was Oban 14 Year, which is a single malt Scotch from the Oban Distillery. I’d mentioned to the bartender my interest in the bottle, and she said it was highly recommended by one of their servers. You know me; I just had to. I ordered it with a splash of water and received it in short order – from a heavy handed bartender, no less!

Uh oh.

The color of Oban 14 Year was a dark gold, and the aroma was a sweet mix of salt and smokiness, with slight hints of peat. This one, ladies and gentlemen, is a meal in and of itself. The moment the Scotch hit my tongue, it latched onto every single taste bud. If you’re looking for a palate-cleanser, look no further. Initially, you’ll experience a fruity sweetness, followed by smoke and peat, and then a warm dryness on the finish.

Yum.

The glass that I had at this restaurant was rather pricey, but from doing some shopping around online, it appears as though this Oban 14 Year can be had in its full glory for around fifty to sixty dollars. Not bad at all.

I’d started off the tab with a dirty martini, which was my choice poison at the time. Toward the end of the drink, however expertly crafted, I became bored of it. Mind you, by this point I’d been having nothing but martinis for the past month or so. I craved something different – something unique. It was at this moment that a rather large and burly man took a seat next to me. He was sipping a local craft brew whose name escapes me and was nearing the end of his glass. I, meanwhile, was still toying around with the olives in mine.

The man called Geoff over and demanded something strong and macho. My friend, like any good bartender, was all too willing to oblige. He delivered to the man a small shot of Booker’s, neat and tidy, and slid the glass toward the man with a slight push of his fingertips. The man, puzzled, looked at the dark mahogany elixir inside the glass and asked what it was. ”Just give it a little sip,” Geoff said, grinning widely. The man took a sip and nearly spat it all over the counter. The man exclaimed something about my friend trying to kill him and in that moment, Geoff offered me the same thing. I accepted, of course, and with one swift movement had downed the glass of 127 proof bourbon as if it were water from the tap.

My throat was ablaze, and my stomach a warm pit of molten liquid. I looked at the man, then to Geoff, then back to the man and back to Geoff again. “That was pretty good,” I said, trying to keep from breathing fire all over them.

You see, Booker’s is not a bourbon to be shot; Booker’s is meant to be savored. A small bit of Booker’s with some ice is just what the doctor ordered on a cold night. Its oaky flavor and hints of tobacco will fill your palate and give you much to smile about. I now keep a bottle on hand for just such nights and have learned to respect the beast named Booker’s. It is an awe-inspiring drink, indeed.

I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I had no intention of seeing you in the first place – you had your eyes on me. I was in the store for wine, but took a leisurely stroll down the whiskey aisle to see what was afoot. There you were, your dark gaze fixed upon me, like a succubus from Satan’s liquor stash. Your label read “Hedonism: Limited Release” and I knew I had to have you.

You came with a steep price (a crisp ninety nine dollars, to be exact), but I knew you and I were destined for great things. With a feeling of guilt, I held you in my arms and we set off for a short ride back to my place, where I undid your top and pressed my lips against your body, taking in the sweet taste of vanilla and hints of toffee and subtle oaky undertones. You smelled as sweet as the summer air and bore a golden hue that no one else could touch. Hedonism, you seduced me from the moment we met, and I can never forgive you.

Now, this isn’t to say that what we had wasn’t great – your smooth color and taste was all the proof I needed that the price I paid was worth it. It’s just that… I don’t think I’ll be able to look at other Scotches the same way anymore. You’ve ruined my perception of what a Scotch is supposed to be, and you can never take that back. Your velvety texture and elegant simplicity have left me tainted and afraid. I’m afraid for what the future might hold for myself and other Scotches. I knew you were a limited release, and I still took the jump.

Compass Box may have you forever, but I’ll never forget our time together and I hope you never do as well.