apocalypse

CRYSTAL HEAD—Vodka for the End of Days

My Fellow Inebriates,

Have you ever woken up with a surprise in your bed? Typically I wake up with all sorts of things in my bed, but my favorite discovery this week was a bear-sized bottle of CRYSTAL HEAD VODKA.

What’s interesting about vodka connoisseurs is the value they place on the spirit being without taste. The most prized vodkas taste like nothing and disappear without a trace into mixers such as tonic and orange juice. This is what makes vodka so dangerous. You keep tasting your hi-ball to see if you can taste the vodka, and if you can’t, you add more. Next thing you know…well, you know.

I wondered whether CRYSTAL HEAD, a brainchild of “invisible world” enthusiast Dan Ackroyd, would impart that throat-parching edginess that is the hallmark of cheaper vodkas, or whether, with its sizeable price tag, it would be a bit more refined. My mouth is already furry inside, so I’m fairly forgiving of vodkas that evaporate one’s saliva, but I still wanted to see where this peculiar skull would land on the vodka spectrum.

The best test is the straight sip, so I sat up in bed and got to it.

"Now, if only someone would hollow me out and fill me up with vodka."

The skull-shaped bottle references the great mystery of the 13 crystal skulls from ancient legend. Many believe there is a connection between the skulls and the upcoming End of Days. Each of the 13 skulls carries a distinct type of knowledge, and together the posse form a repository of unimaginable power that will be unleashed in the Apocalypse.

So obviously CRYSTAL HEAD vodka makes a powerful breakfast.

The smell is neutral, perhaps a little citrus despite the advertised lack of citrus oil in the vodka’s production. The first sip is sharp—not as smooth as expected, but it settles down in the mouth, finishing in an almost imperceptible vanilla sweetness. The mouthfeel is jagged and edgy, amplified by an acetone quality that seems to magnify with each sip.

I decided to lurch downstairs with my freaky skull and try a lemonade mixer. The kids asked me what was doing with their lemonade, and I told them I was making it extra yummy.

Filtered through Herkimer diamonds. Can you even do that?

But it wasn’t. Far from disappearing into the lemonade, CRYSTAL HEAD seemed to crackle through it like with chemical harshness, that acetone taste redoubling in spikes that hurt my teeth. I loved it. It was the best way to wake up ever, and I’m grateful to my (yes, my) wonderful friend Pixie for a mind-altering taste trip that absolutely launched me out of my comfort zone. Drink up, people, the end of the world is coming sooner than you think.

ROLF BINDER HALES Barossa Valley Shiraz (2007)

My Fellow Inebriates,

With the impending end of the Mayan calendar I sometimes feel as though the apocalypse is breathing down my neck. And that calls for wine.

There’s something so reassuring about a big, succulent, jammy wine, and when I’m quivering with paranoia my sights turn to my local booze store’s Aussie section, and in particular Barossa Valley Shiraz.

ROLF BINDER HALES Barossa Valley Shiraz is a spectacular example of that ripe, intensely layered fruit that comforts me so much. Floral on the nose, it rewards the drinker with symphonically placed cedar and blueberry notes, good body, and an endless finish.

I’ve always been afraid of Australia. Apparently it is overrun with baby-eating dingoes, and all the Tasmanian devils are riddled with cancer. They have spiders as big as dinner plates and big-ass rastling crocs, plus poisonous snakes that could swallow me in one gulp. But perhaps these are just the right conditions for growing perfect grapes.

ROLF BINDER HALES is 90% Shiraz, collected from several vineyards along the western coast of the Valley, and 5% contributions from Grenache and Mataro grapes.

I like this vino so much that Australia has become my new top of the world.

But it’s no simple fruit bomb. Sure, it’s all-singing and all-dancing, but it has a disciplined dryness that stops it just short of going supernova in your mouth, making for a tantalizing sipper that continues to surprise as it opens up.

I RECOMMEND sipping this amazing ROLF BINDER offering for that reason. Yes, if you pound it, you’ll still enjoy it, but then it’ll be gone, right? And you’ll be crying the way I do so often. Don’t worry, the world won’t end before you finish the bottle.

The end is near!

My Fellow Inebriates,

My friends the Beer & Whiskey Brothers have the right idea with their question of what beer to drink before a city-block-sized boulder hits us tonight. My fur’s been quivering since I read about this asteroidal mutha, and if it indeed has our little planet in its sights, there’s nothing to do but drink, people.

But I don’t advise sipping.

The prospect of our little blue marble getting plowed by an asteroid is so bowel-emptyingly fearful that you need to render yourself insensible for the impact. So here’s a list of non-sipping beers you can pound or shotgun as you brace yourself.

  • Budweiser
  • Labatt Blue
  • Molson Black Ice
  • Kokanee
  • Corona

You see, on the brink of an apocalypse, your tastebuds are just about useless. The fight-or-flight response galvanizes your body—your heart pounds, your lungs heave, blood rushes from your stomach, your pupils dilate, and you get a metallic taste in your mouth.

You’re ready to freak out, but you’re not the best judge of beer. This is why I RECOMMEND racing to your local booze shop to buy any or all of the aforementioned brews.

If this is the end, I’ve enjoyed getting wasted with you in cyberspace. Be strong, humans, and drink up.