gin

Gin Shoot-Out the Third—more random than ever, but a clear winner

My Fellow Inebriates,

You don’t want to know where I’ve been, so let’s get to it. Our three contenders:

  • BROKER’S GIN. Our pet gin (or gin of pet bears at least) entered the competition the frontrunner. How would it fare, my fellow inebriates?
  • TANQUERAY. Strangely enough, we hadn’t pitted TANQUERAY against other gins before. Always a household favorite, we were sure it would stand and be counted. But against BROKER’S…?
  • PINK 47. New to LBHQ and relatively new to the booze world, PINK 47 hit the market in 2007 to reported critical accolades. The flashiest bottle of our three entrants, it came in swinging with 47 percent alcohol. Would it bitchslap BROKER’S and TANQ with their modest 40 percent? Read on, MFI.

DSCN3848

But first let’s flash-forward to 3:00 a.m. Many G&Ts have been consumed, in addition to a Viognier, a Torrontes, and a Cab with—unaccountably—a pot of tea somewhere in between. My dad is receiving a back massage from another man. A dozen guests and almost that many children have long gone home to bed, the adults having politely sampled a thimbleful of each gin before opting out of the remaining shenanigans. All except my parents and our good friend R, who arrived before dinner with a giant insect, under which I woke up to witness the aforementioned provocative tableau.

The brilliant thing about gin is the lucid high it confers. It’s a shiny kind of drunkenness, but it inspires all kinds of nuttiness. The last time Dad and R got ripped out of their heads I had to watch them play Guitar Hero, and this scenario promised to be almost as bad. Let’s leave it alone for a moment and talk gin.

 

PINK 47

pink47_diamond_front

First up: PINK 47 LONDON DRY GIN ($34.99 for 700 mL). Quadruple-distilled and grandstanding with 12 botanicals, PINK 47 wowed our guests with its diamond-inspired bottle and vivid label. As for me, it had me at 47 percent. This seemed an unassailable and possibly unfair advantage from the bear perspective, but how would the human taste buds find it?

Straight up

DSCN3852We passed out tiny samples to reluctant guests who said things like, “Wait a sec. Is gin supposed to be consumed straight?” PINK 47 was aromatic and appealing, but perhaps not the best gin to begin the tasting with. As the most alcoholic of the three, it was a shock. The guests were dutiful, though, and drank it down. PINK 47 was aggressive but charming, with the competence of a seasoned hooker or porn star.

The Gin & Tonic

Despite its marketplace youth, PINK 47 has won a bunch of trophies, and the G&T is probably why. With its heady but clean botanicals and high potency, it cuts through mixer assertively. It makes a ravishing G&T that will land you on your ass if you happen to be a small bear. Comments included:

“knifey”

“tastes like hitting someone.”

TANQUERAY

Tanqueray

Next up: TANQUERAY ($26.99 for 750 mL). We’ve always preferred TANQUERAY to its snooty sibling TANQ 10. It has a nice balance of classic botanicals with a citrusy profile and uber-smoothness. Its price tag is reasonable and it comports itself just as well in a martini as in a highball.

Straight up

DSCN3856Our guests were wary of gin after sampling straight PINK 47. Of the tray we circulated, only two-thirds of the TANQUERAY thimblefuls were downed, and commentary was muted. Perhaps, after being handled so forcefully by PINK 47, our tasters felt underwhelmed. Perhaps they were afraid (I doubt any of them ever woke up under a giant praying mantis). The consensus was…subdued. It was dry and refined, and didn’t draw undue attention to itself. Very English. I could picture it queuing up politely to vote.

The Gin & Tonic

DSCN3878By this time only the stalwarts were willing to try a second G&T mixed by my mother. True, most of them had ankle biters tearing around our yard, but all lived within staggering distance. I’m thinking not everyone is as obsessed with gin as we are at LBHQ. Still, those who tasted TANQUERAY in a G&T said it was civilized and smooth. TANQUERAY is much better at hiding in a G&T than PINK 47, which makes it more of a creeper and therefore more dangerous. All good.

 

BROKER’S GIN

DSCN3886Lastly: BROKER’S GIN ($27.99 for 750 mL). BROKER’S is the darling of LBHQ and the winner of all our previous Gin Shoot-Outs. Business Development Manager Julia Gale and I are practically best friends, my fellow inebriates, bonded in the quest to return BROKER’S to its rightful place on my local booze shop shelves after a long and inexplicable absence. Not only is BROKER’S reasonably priced; it strikes a perfect balance between old-school tradition and playful piquancy, delivered with impeccable smoothness. We like its no-nonsense price and the fact that every time we buy it we get a little bowler hat, which Miss V usually absconds with and places on the head of her Chihuahua. Yes, BROKER’s entered the shoot-out our incumbent. Would TANQ come from behind with its subtle smoothness? Or would PINK 47 whip the bejesus out of it with its 47 percent alcohol? The shoot-out was BROKER’S to lose.

Straight up

DSCN3583

Third time around even more of our thimblefuls got ignored. Only the die-hards were really committed to doing this thing, which was all right, because data from a dozen tasters would have been really confusing to compile. There was concurrence, though: BROKER’S is dry and refined, hitting all the traditional notes without clouting you over the head. Compared to TANQUERAY, BROKER’S comes off a little cheeky; it has more personality. If it were animate, it would be the cleverest of the three, with TANQ chuffing in a belated and overcompensatory way at its witticisms, and PINK 47 laughing raunchily as the jokes sailed over its head. But of course gin is not animated (how foolish to think of an inanimate object as animate), so we’ll just say BROKER’S brings more to the table botanically than TANQ, and doesn’t show its underwear like PINK 47.

The Gin & Tonic

DSCN3876Only the most committed gin tasters enjoyed a G&T featuring each of the contenders. However, those three people (and one bear) more than made up for the reticence of our well-behaved guests. Usually I’d chart the results, but my head hurts too much, and a lot of the data has slipped away, parceled as it was with other data I deliberately flushed. Truth be told, we extended this Shoot-Out for many days after the official event, returning to the fridge like Scarybear when there’s a cake in it, cycling through all three brands repeatedly until we realized that BROKER’S was it. Classically traditional, a perfect booze-mixer balance, and an orchestra of superbly modulated botanical chords.

And the winner is…

Broker’s.

Sorry if that’s an anticlimax. But for those of you who persevered to the end of this post to see what my dad was up to… The praying mantis said I imagined the whole thing. Then it reminded me there was still gin in the fridge.

"Hey, wake up. I heard there's gin left over."

“Hey, wake up. I heard there’s gin left over.”

ASTROLIQUOR for June 14-20, already in progress—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

I became very stressed out when I realized the booze horoscope is late. But then somebody told me that all the astrological signs are off by a month because they were calculated over 2,000 years ago and the earth has an axial wobble, and on and on and on, MFI, it was all very technical. Anyway, if you think you’re a Leo, you’re probably a Cancer, and so on through the zodiac. So feel free to drink whatever the stars recommend for your sign AND the one before it. You’re welcome.

You need extra vacation time, Aries. At least that’s what your psychiatrist thinks. As for your colleagues and relatives, they think you take mental holidays all the time. And the stars? They recommend downtime as long as it’s cheap. That means no Champagne—find some budget bubbly and mix it up with leftover peach schnapps (doesn’t everybody have peach schnapps left over?). What the stars don’t recommend is getting canned from your job. Ahhh, it’s so tempting this time of year, but the stars won’t hear of it. They say you’re unhireable and that you should stick with a good thing.

Taurus, it’s time to figure out your finances. Where the hell is all that money going? For the next two weeks you’ll dutifully spreadsheet every expenditure—and the news will be good. If you can just cut out a few little extras, you’ll be totally solvent. But what are those “little extras”? Well, the stars say to start with Champagne. Nobody needs Champagne when they can buy $11 sparkling wine. You do need Malibu, though.

Gemini, your playtime will change significantly this week thanks to some new people who find their way into your life. You’ll find you need quite a bit of cash to keep up with them, and might even end up seeking a loan. Geminis are pretty good at handling stuff like this, but then again, you’re not really a Gemini, are you? The stars say lay off the crack and buy a nice chocolate mint liqueur that you can savor.

Cancer, your physical fitness gets a boost this week when you declare you’ll no longer take the elevator. You got it, you’re taking the stairs, all eight of them, and before long that ass will be toned and tight. With the accompanying confidence boost you’ll attract new people, one of whom will hit you up for a loan. Don’t do it, Cancer! You need that cash for vodka and Jack Daniel’s.

If you’re feeling out of shape, Leo, perhaps you should eliminate solid food in favor of vodka. Toss some fruit into it for vitamins, shake it all up, and call the neighbors over. Voila! You have a yukkaflux party, and that’s what summer’s all about. Like Cancer, though, you’ll become a magnet for new people, and the one who asked Cancer for a loan will hit you up next. Say no! This person is a total dildo and won’t give you your money back.

You’ll spend much of the week bumping into things, Virgo, which is the usual consequence of drinking vodka, peach schnapps, and Blue Curaco without let-up. Not only will you bang up your elbows and knees; you’ll keel over on top of a delicate appliance, which will work only intermittently thereafter. Give it a good kick, Virgo, but mind your toes. You’re already a mess. You should be wearing shoes in the house anyway, because around about the time you break the appliance, you also smash a six-pack on the floor. Mellow out, friend.

Libra, that missing object you’ve been seeking continues to elude you. Where the hell did you put that thing anyway? It has no sentimental value, but it’s something useful—your toothbrush, perhaps, or some Ben Wa balls. (Don’t mix those up.) Even though tequila won’t help you find your lost item, it will make you feel less frustrated, especially if you mix 6 oz of it with 3 oz each of Blue Curacao and lime juice. Pretty soon you’ll be saying, “What thing?” or, more likely, “Waaasssing?”

If you had your druthers you’d have a stable, normal relationship, Scorpio. Cozy nights and quiet luxuries, good food and drink. But you’re Scorpio, and let’s face it, you don’t do “normal.” You thrive on unpredictability and chaos, which is why you’ll say yes to that peach vodka with 7Up. It won’t taste very good, and you know that, but it signifies a gratifying behavioral spiral that resonates with the Scorpio. Oh, wait a sec, you’re really a Libra. Maybe you can find that missing thing Libra’s looking for.

Sagittarius, communication is tickety-boo this week, and your thoughts are both coherent and compelling. For some reason you’re not getting any work done, though. Are you wanking off to the sound of your own voice? Take a holiday, Sagittarius, and spare your co-workers any more of this. If HR won’t let you book off for a week, take a mental holiday. Stock your desk drawer with bourbon whiskey, Southern Comfort, triple sec, and Blue Curacao. Ahhhh!

A Sagittarius will pester you this week, Capricorn. Just because you smiled once or twice, this person thinks you’re interested romantically. This person also probably has a headful of bourbon and other mixers (see Sagittarius, above) and won’t even remember if you tell him/her to bugger off. Just ignore, ignore, ignore. Save your own lovely drink for after work when you get home: Bailey’s and hot chocolate, because you are so much more refined than a Sagittarius. Oh wait. You kind of are a Sagittarius.

Aquarius, you’ll be the epitome of charm this week. People are drawn to you magnetically because of your nonjudgmental aura. You can even manipulate them with your charisma if you feel like it, but the stars wish you wouldn’t. These things can escalate badly, and next thing you know, you have a drunken Sagittarius hurling chunks of cafeteria lunch and triple sec all over your cubicle. Being nonjudgmental, you won’t mind, but the stars think you can do better, so stick to gin.

You’ll blossom this week, Pisces, becoming a magnet for people whose lives aren’t going so swimmingly. So willing to oblige are you that you’ll drop everything to help, to lend, and to provide emotional support. You’ll start neglecting your own needs and even your own health. Taking on the weight of the world isn’t something any Pisces should ever do. For one thing, Pisces people are never more than a few weeks away from a nervous breakdown. If you don’t look after number one, you’ll find yourself drained by the douchebags of the world, who won’t even lend you a cup of Bacardi later. (Wow! the stars are harsh this week.)

BOOMSMA YONGE GENEVER—Here’s to you, Miss P, poor kid

My Fellow Inebriates,

Miss P accidentally left her spelling words at school today. With a ten-word test looming tomorrow, we had no choice but to try to imagine what ten words might be on the list. Our only clue:

The words relate to the province of Ontario.

“How many do you remember, P?”

“Um, none.”

“You don’t remember any words on the list?”

“Zero.”

Wow. This from a kid who remembers the name of every damn pony in that kingdom of ponies she and V are collecting. OMG, what the hell are those things called? I can’t remember.

my filly

Fortunately, as we tried to guess P’s spelling words, she was able to confirm when we hit one. By bedtime we’d scored seven:

  • Ontario

  • Niagara Falls

  • Toronto

  • Great Lakes

  • Ottawa

  • curling

  • hockey

She didn’t want to do it, but Dad made her copy each one out multiple times. In the morning she’ll at least have seven under her belt, and she can try to cram the other three into her brain when she gets to school.

Except Dad had spelled “Niagara” like “Viagra.” Which meant P had copied “Niagra” ten times on her practice sheet, effectively cramming her head with a misspelling.

bOOMSMA

By that point she didn’t care. She’d already had too much drama. Forgetting your spelling list at school is apparently a big deal, and she’d cried actual tears. Four hours earlier she’d been stung by a bee. She was stressed about the odor her orthodontic Schwartz appliance container has taken on (it’s bad). And Mum had suggested she eat vegetables.

If I could have offered P a gin-and-tonic I would have. But I couldn’t, so I had one myself. Made with BOOMSMA, now down to the dregs following our recent Shoot-Out, it was pretty good. Not BROKER’S good or even GORDON’S good, but pretty good. BOOMSMA is a creeper. It’s light and slightly sweeter than typical London Dry gin, which tempts you to add more to your tonic, which I couldn’t because everyone had emptied the bottle. When it was gone, I felt a little like P. Worn out.