I absolutely hate it when someone sends me a box full of sex toys in the mail. Sure, it might sound like fun to some of you (you know who you are), but receiving a big box of free sex is much more trouble than it’s worth. Believe me. So I get a little guarded when unannounced packages arrive because, you know, I’m worried that they’re going to be full of sex stuff.

Just a couple of months ago, such a suspicious package arrived and I opened it to find – much to my delight – not a box full of sex toys but rather a new pear liqueur called Xanté. That’s fine, I thought to myself, at least it’s just a harmless pear liqueur and not something more salacious. So I opened the envelope, and there was the standard non-sexy note from the liquor company:

“Xanté is an intimate love affair, a passionate encounter, a lifetime commitment, a ménage à trois between virgin pears, the finest French cognacs, and soft caresses of vanilla from French Limousine Oak.”

Huh, okay, an intimate, passionate ménage à trois with soft caresses from virgins or whatever, nothing terribly naughty about that. Guess I’ll open the box.

Xanté comes in a sleek black box, carefully secured with a long, silken gold ribbon. It is my understanding that this ribbon is not meant to be used as a blindfold, gag, or method of restraint, but rather a simple and affordable alternative to, say, a piece of tape to keep the box closed. The box is emblazoned with the G-rated slogan “Unimaginable Pleasure”.

Inside is a little booklet full of stories about pleasure and very tasteful photo essays of women in the sporting life, surrounded by young shirtless boys and quotes comparing non-sexual leisure activities to the enjoyment of pear liqueur:

“Any croquet player of distinction knows it’s crucial to always keep her eyes on the balls and peg, regardless of how distracting the surroundings may be. Sight is an equally important part of the Xanté experience; its rich amber colour makes it apparent to anyone that looks do matter.”

…and:

“Just like a day at the croquet grounds, stroking coloured wooden balls across manicured lawns, Xanté is uncompromisingly unpredictable.”

Apparently all of this ball-stroking can whip up an insatiable thirst for the consumer, so I guess the next thing to do would be to open up the bottle. Nestled in a non-suggestive coffin of black satin sheets is the bottle, standing proudly and erect in its velveteen hole.

The opening nose is reminiscent of pears poached in cinnamon and wine. The first sip reveals a moderate amount of heat, which dissipates quickly leaving behind an extended finish of basic sugars, pear, light caramel, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg and banana. Or, in the words of the company:

“…with its touch of vanilla, the perfect penetration of pear, and the slow, tender mating process which seals the great conception delivering a flavour and taste beyond all known experience.”

I don’t know, maybe it does sound kind of dirty after all.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Xante Pear Liqueur (Not A Sex Toy)

The list of increduble experiences I had last fall while attending (and speaking at) the Bar Convent Berlin is a mile long, but up near the top of the list is the afternoon chat I had with Andreas Redlefsen, owner of St. Lucia’s Elements Eight rums.

Elements Eight is virtually unknown in this country, but occasionally you will hear of it whispered in hushed tones between rum aficionados as the brand has acquired a sort of mythical status. Fortunately there was plenty on hand to taste in Europe, and I had the man himself to tell me all about it.

Elements Eight begins with molasses made from Guyanese cane (cane production is no longer commercially viable in St. Lucia). The distillers then take that molasses and ferment it in three separate batches with three different yeast strains from the island. The resulting ‘beers’ are then distilled in three different stills, which results in nine unique rums.

The first is a traditional John Dore copper pot still, the ‘Rolls Royce’ of pot stills – creating a rum that is heavy bodied, pungent and full of flavor. This rum will gain complexity as it is aged and will impart a lot of depth and complexity into the final blend. Still Two is a Vendome pot still – originally constructed for American whiskey production. The end result is a lighter rum than that produced in the John Dore. Aaaaand, still number three is a column still. Very light rum.

Anyway, all of these different rums are hand-blended and aged in used Buffalo Trace bourbon barrels in St. Lucia, which provides a unique microclimate between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic ocean. The warm Caribbean climate helps expand the rum into the barrel, and the chilly Atlantic evenings contract the liquid and help wash that flavor from the wood.

Both rums are aged, the gold for a minimum of 6 years, the platinum for a minimum of 4 years. Yes, the platinum rum is then charcoal-filtered in order to remove the color before it is packaged and shipped.

And what about the flavor? Both are light, clean, buttery, sophisticated and delicate, with the gold providing a touch more richness and caramel than the crisper platinum. Sippable neat, but perfect for mixing in cocktails. I’ve made crisp mojitos, smooth, buttery rum old-fashioneds, light daiquiris and Mai Tais that defy the laws of gravity.

Already available in Europe, Elements Eight is slated for release in the States late this year or early 2010.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Elements Eight Rum

Things are really starting to ramp up for the 75th anniversary of the Repeal of Prohibition on December 5th! Today I received a package from the folks at Old Forester bourbon, who are showing their support of my favorite day by releasing a limited edition Repeal Day bottling of their whiskey.

From the press release:

“Repeal Bourbon is bottled from a special selection of Old Forester barrels that exhibited a more robust character that is similar to the Old Forester that was bottled during Prohibition,” added Chris Morris, Master Distiller for Old Forester. “The flavor, presented at Prohibition’s required 100 proof, is a full, deep, charred oak character that will appeal to bourbon-lovers everywhere.”

Old Forester has long been one of my go-to bourbons, as it explores the savory side of whiskey without an overload of sweetness. I love using it in a Manhattan as it sets off the orange and caramel of a good sweet vermouth while providing a solid, spicy backbone.

Check out more information about the bottling (due sometime in late November or early December) here, and as always, visit the home of Repeal Day here.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Old Forester Repeal Bourbon

I see a fair amount of liquor in my average day. I work in a bar and am surrounded by 200+ bottles of the stuff for ten hours a day. Liquor reps drop by the bar and leave me samples of new products on a regular basis. I get press releases, forwarded emails, RSS feeds, swag, and sometimes full-bottle liquor samples in the mail. And it seems to me that everyone wants to talk about the versatility of their product.

“Try this new absinthe! It’s $80 a bottle and doesn’t taste like anything. It’s very versatile, great in cocktails.”

“This vodka is different than all the others. It retails for $49.95, it’s distilled eight times from fresh organic kiwifruit. It’s very versatile.”

“The latest berry liqueur! It’s made from six types of berry and was developed by three out-of-work cocaine addicts. And it’s only $14.99 a bottle! It’s super versatile!”

Let me tell you something about a truly versatile liquor, the kind you reach for every day. The real beauty doesn’t come from the fact that it’s cheap. It isn’t brilliant because it mixes well with every kind of fruit juice you can throw at it. Versatility doesn’t happen when a liquor doesn’t taste like anything.

The greatest, most versatile products out there find themselves in my hands more often than not because they’re simply perfect and are priced with a tag we all can afford.

When I received this bottle of Matusalem Gran Reserva, I was naturally skeptical. But after blowing through an entire fifth of the stuff over the course of the past week, I can honestly recommend it – not just because it tastes great, and not because the price point is exactly where it should be, but because it is truly a versatile rum.

I poured it straight, I poured it on the rocks with a dash of orange bitters. I made mai tais, I made daiquiris, I mixed it with cane-sugar Coca-Cola from Mexico and fresh key limes. It was sensational in a Beauty Beneath, and it shined in a rum old-fashioned. It took everything I threw at it and asked for more. It’s got butter and vanilla up front, an understated mid-palate without a lot of heaviness, and a nice, quiet finish that begs for another sip.

I’m lucky: I get to buy bottles every week with someone else’s money. But I have this thing, this horrible, horrible thing that kicks in when I feel like I’m ripping someone off. And it won’t let me sell you a $10 shot that’s only worth $3, I just can’t do it. So finding new products in this sea of PR is kind of a nightmare for me.

And that’s why this rum is so versatile: it’s 35 bucks! You can buy it, you can use it, and you can pick up another bottle when you’re done. You don’t have to horde it, you don’t have to keep in hidden in the back of the liquor cabinet. It’s a truly versatile rum because you can actually use it.

And that’s my review. Thanks for reading.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Matusalem Gran Reserva 15

I own a small library of books on the subject of bartending. Some of these books are geared toward the professional bartender, while others are written for the home mixologist. But regardless of the intended audience, almost every book I own heartily recommends that we use paring knives for cutting fruits and garnishes. The Art of the Bar, The Joy of Mixology, The Craft of the Cocktail, Larousse Cocktails, The Bartender’s Black Book, they all say the same thing: that a 4-inch paring knife is the right tool for the job.

But for my money (and the safety of my hands), there’s no better knife than a nine-inch, serrated, offset-handled sandwich sword.

Forever used in sandwich shops and delis, the sandwich sword is the neophyte’s knife that can turn on a dime in the right hands with just a little practice.

See, I don’t trust small knives. They’re vertically-challenged, which means that the height of their blades is short, so cutting requires razor-sharp precision. And that’s something I don’t always have during the middle of a busy Friday night, if ever. Let’s face it, wet hands and a sharp knife are kind of a scary combo. And the offset silicone handle is easy on the the hands and knuckles.

Another reason I prefer my knife to theirs it that a four-inch blade doesn’t work well with larger items like pineapples and grapefruits, so those fruits end up coming out looking butchered. And for the few that have ever worked with me, you know how particular I am about my garnishes. Sloppy angles, dented fruit and torn peels are a thing of the past with the old sandwich sword. My garnish trays are always full of fresh fruit with crisp, clean edges.

Citrus peels are often thick and sometimes full of grit, which will dull a blade quickly. But my sandwich sword is serrated, so it keeps a usable edge for longer. I can still straighten the edge with a steel I keep behind the bar, but once it’s passed a certain point I don’t mind throwing it out and getting a fresh one. They’re only ten bucks.

Am I the only one out there who uses a monster like this? Let me know in the comments.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Tools of the Trade: Knives

I don’t drink vodka. Most of you know that by now. I don’t care for spirits that strive to taste more like nothing than their competitors. I don’t care for drinks made with vodka, which taste merely like alcoholic versions of whatever fruit juice has been added to the glass. It’s boring liquor for boring people.

That said, I get a lot of companies wanting to send me vodka samples to review on my site. And I get a lot of them, from flavored vodka (the only thing worse than unflavored vodka), to vodka distilled from weird ingredients (as if that matters a whole hell of a lot) to vodka that’s been distilled twelve times (to provide, it seems, a unique flavorless experience).

So when I received the following email from Paul McCann at Cirrus Vodka:

I distill a premium potato vodka here in VA that I would love to have you try and possibly write about. I’m glad to get you a sample.

…I gave him my standard brush-off:

I’m not normally much of a vodka guy, but I’ll give it a shot if you want to send it. Cheers

But what struck me was his reply:

I’ll get you a sample out this week. I usually like for non-vodka people to try Cirrus. I work pretty hard on not distilling the character out of the spirit. I am not one to adhere to the tasteless, odorless definition. After all what is the point of being able to enjoy something if it is totally void of any “spirit”. My belief is that vodka should be enjoyed as one would a bourbon or a whisky or anything else that you would drink by itself.

Whoa, I thought, that’s certainly the most thoughtful vodka description I’ve received from a distiller. My curiosity was piqued and I awaited the sample to arrive in the mail.

What arrived was the vodka I expected from a description like that. The front palate and nose are brimming with bright citrus flavors – one of the few characteristics I look for in a vodka. But what surprised me and encouraged me to try another sip was the unbelievably smooth, creamy mouthfeel that was immediately followed by rich coffee and bittersweet chocolate notes.

Seriously. I know this sounds like bullshit, but the vodka really does taste like this.

I was curious, so I had a few questions for Paul.

JM: Can you tell me more about how it’s made? Are you buying neutral spirits, and if so, where from?

Cirrus Vodka is a small batch vodka made from 100% potato (primarily russets). We are a full distillery. We do all of our own mashing, fermenting, distilling of our neutral spirit, and bottling. We are not a contract distillery. Cirrus is all natural in that we use NO additives for flavoring or anything else to influence flavor. Cirrus is pot distilled in a copper pot. The spirit is triple distilled because we only need to distill three times to achieve the finished spirit quality that we look for. The spirit is then filtered, but barely, because it does not really need it. The finished neutral spirit is cut to 80 proof with a very nice spring water that we bring in to the distillery.

JM: Are you using locally-grown potatoes? If so, are you using exclusively potatoes from Virginia, a blend, or perhaps primarily in the spring when the Virginia potatoes are in season?

I use VA russet potatoes when I can get them. The season is short here, July/August, so I am not able to produce a great deal of product using VA potatoes only. Plus there are only two russet growers here in VA. The remainder grow whites which are a low starch potato used in the chipping industry. During other times of the year our potatoes may come from all over the country.

JM: What are your thoughts on the differences between raw materials used for a distillate taken to 190+ proof?

Spirits taken to 190+ proof can still retain nuances of the raw material. Most vodka [manufacturers] are so hell bent on the “tasteless, odorless” definition that they filter it and filter it over and over. What they wind up with is a spirit that is just like everything else on the block. If you want something to mix, then characterless ethanol is just fine.

JM: It has always been my understanding that the water used to cut the neutral spirit plays more of a role in the final mouthfeel and flavor than the grains or potatoes used.

The cut water is indeed an important part of the final spirit. But it is only as important as the raw material, the process used to produce the spirit and how the process is run by the distiller. The water we use is just flat out great water. I knew I was going to use it before I had even finished development of the vodka.

I took a cue from Paul and tossed my bottle in the freezer. Last night, I poured a single, viscous shot into a chilled glass and basked in that luxurious, chocolatey mouthfeel yet again. It changed my mind about vodka – well, this one vodka, anyway.

You can visit Cirrus Vodka online here.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Hold On To Your Hats, I Found a Vodka I’ll Actually Drink

So, I was a little taken aback when I received a package containing two bottles of Dirty Sue Dirty Martini Mix in the mail this week.

Now, part of my taken-abackedness came from the fact that they didn’t include one of their awesome chocolate brown t-shirts, in a large (L). Ahem.

But what really struck me was:

A. Why would someone send me, of all people, a martini mix?
B. Who needs a dirty martini mix anyway? It’s just olive juice and gin, right?

But once I started thinking about dirty martinis, with their brine seasoned by an evening’s worth of some bartender’s fingertips, open to the elements and festooned with dead fruit-flies, I realized the true brilliance of this stuff. Olive brine in a bottle! Of course!

Well, being the consummate taste-tester, I brought a bottle to the bar and tried it out on some of the staff and customers. The verdict? Strong. And wonderful! It took some getting used to, as this is very potent juice, but once we got our proportions down, we were cranking out the most consistent, clean, delicious dirty martinis we’ve ever made.

Now, the website recommends 3 ounces gin (I’m sure the vodka was a typo) to .75 ounces of Dirty Sue, but I found that a mere half ounce worked just fine for us.

So there you go. Dirty Sue is available in 8 states (not Oregon, but you can buy it online) with more to come soon.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Dirty, Dirty Sue

Tracy was asking for bourbon recommendations, and although this post is about more than just bourbon, it’s somewhat related.

My friend Ryan had me over for a pig roast this afternoon to celebrate his wife’s birthday, so I got to take a tour of his legendary liquor room. That’s right, while the rest of us have liquor cabinets, Ryan has a whole small room full of some extremely rare and wonderful liquors.

Ryan and his wife fled New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina, and while they returned to an absolutely devastating scene months later, the one silver lining was that many of their bottles, while label-damaged, remained intact. And that’s good news for me, because when confronted with a roomful of liquor I’ve never tried before, I do what you would do: I find a glass.

The first bottle we cracked open was the Bush Pilot’s Private Reserve. Good luck finding this one at your neighborhood liquor store, kids! It hasn’t been made since 1997, as Anheuser-Busch threatened to sue the bejeezus out of the old man for trademark violation. This totally sucks because it’s, like, only the best Canadian whiskiey I’ve ever had. Period. Made with mostly rye, this one was aged in used bourbon casks for 13 years, so the color and caramel are both super duper light. Oh my God: smooth. And here I thought Canadian whiskey was all about Seagram’s VO – what was I thinking?

I didn’t even know they made rum in Louisiana, but I should have figured as much. The New Orleans Rum is made from sugar cane grown in Louisiana. It’s also bottled with a crappy little tin screwcap, which isn’t going to help much when the bottle is floating in raw sewage for several months. One sniff told us that this puppy was going to be headed down the drain. Smell ya later, rum

Hey, Old Charter 12-Year! You’re so affordable and easy to drink, but you’ve got a lot of character. You’re complex, with some burnt orange and leather on your long, lingering finish. Let’s be friends, Old Charter, I think you’re really cool.

Oh, crap, I forgot something: I live in Oregon where rare and exciting liquors are really hard to come by. Good thing this bottle of Sazerac Rye is on hand to remind me to get out more.

You know what’s really cool about a good rye? It lands on the two sides of the back of the tongue. I didn’t know that area even existed, because bourbon and scotch can’t even touch it. Thanks for teaching me about my body, Sazerac. You’re awesome!

And then sometimes a good bottle of rye will introduce you to things transcendental. This mind-blowing bottle of Thomas H. Handy Sazerac Rye was like one of those Tibetan religious experiences that opens up your third eye or whatever, but in this case the third eye was a sinus cavity and the sherpa was a Jewish guy named Ryan. This is easily the best American whiskey I’ve ever had. When you taste it you know that the wood used for aging was very carefully selected to complement the rye. And that’s some serious business.

Wow, I’d never even heard of this bourbon before and if you’d asked me, I would have said that Johnny Drum was one of John Hodgman’s 700 Imaginary Hobo Names.

But I would have been wrong. There are sort of two camps in bourbon: the sweet camp with its caramel and vanilla tones, and the savory camp with its leather and herbal flavors. Our friend John here is definitely sitting in the former camp, where most of the others I tasted today were in the latter. It’s a little sweet, lots of complex vanilla aromas, light wood flavor, tons of caramel… hell, it kind of tastes like Maker’s Mark.

I can only taste so much fantastic whiskey before my tongue files for a divorce, so it was time for me to shove off. Hopefully I can take another tour soon, and when I do I will post my findings.

And Tracy still wants to know about all of your favorite bourbons, so leave her lots of advice in the comments section. My two personal favorites are Basil Hayden and Woodford Reserve. But that’s just me.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Whiskey Tasting on a Sunday Afternoon

Stopped by the Luxco booth and sampled some of the sexy, rebranded El Mayor tequila.

I don’t know how many times El Mayor has been distilled, but one thing I missed from the silver was a deep, fruity agave flavor. This could have something to do with the fact that my palate was starting to lose its sensitivity, or it could be a very mild sort of tequila. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t… great.

The reposado is over-aged (up to nine months) and had some nice caramel tones from the wood. The añejo was right in line with the silver and the reposado: there was nothing technically wrong with it, it just didn’t seem to have much soul. Some sexy packaging, sure. But flavor? Kinda dull.

If you’re into Patron and other brands that don’t do much in the character category, this might be the tequila for you. It’s got a great bottle and a nice little logo there on the front. But for me, I’m going to need something more when I drop $35-$50 at the liquor store.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

El Mayor Tequila

I tried to get a video at 3:00 PM, but it seems that I forgot how to use a digital camera. Oh, well. You can see all the blender test videos you can handle here at their website. Trust me, it’s pretty awesome

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Make Me a Golf Ball Margarita

It’s made by Momokawa Sake in Japan, but the product is owned and imported by SakeOne here in Forest Grove, Oregon.

Hmmmm… sounds like yet another reason why Oregon is such a great destination for cocktail enthusiasts!

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Momokawa Nigori Genshu Sake

Tequila often has a lot of black pepper tones to it, but what I got from the Tezón was a lot of vanilla. Very flowery, with a lingering, almost oily finish.

I could almost see pairing this one with a little Marie Brizard Parfait Amour…

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Tezón Reposado Tequila

Although the company is headquartered in Nicaragua, they own sugar cane plantations and distilleries all over Latin America. The company has been alive for seventy years.

The Centenario Gold has a lot of spice on the nose: cinnamon, nutmeg and anise. The rum sips easily, with a minimal amount of fire. I got a lot of dark, luscious caramel and butter on the palate, with just a touch of vanilla.

Try this with your Centenario Gold: take a snifter and give it a quick rinse of Licor 43, and dump out the excess. Add two ounces of Centenario Gold and three espresso beans. I think the vanilla, caramel and coffee flavors work perfectly together.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Flor de Caña 18 Year-Old Centenario Gold Rum

First I tried the 1919 rum. It’s an anejo, aged eight years and made from a blend of light and dark rums. The flavor is slightly hot, and it’s a big butterscotch blast with a wave of vanilla coming up right behind it.

Next I tried the 1824 Limited Reserve, a much more sophisticated product, with the heat removed by an extra four years of aging. The flavor is another butter bomb, with some toasty chocolate riding shotgun.

Both of these rums are sippers, perfect for a snifter. But the I could see mixing the 1919 with the juice of a fresh lime and a splash of brown sugar simple syrup for the perfect daiquiri.

Just the way Hemmingway used to take them.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Angostura Rums

You see, at my bar, we make everything from scratch. Sours, Bloody Marys, mojitos – everything. The only other alternative here in Eugene, Oregon is poorly-made crap full of chemicals, colorings and flavoring “agents”. But after looking at the Patrick Henry’s website, I decided I would give Whit’s products a try.

They came in a huge box last week, and after a lot of unpacking I finally made my way into the bottles. Whit had sent three samples, his Sour Mix, Lime juice (a syrup made in the tradition of Rose’s lime) and a bottle of Bloody Mary mix.

I was looking forward to playing with his ingredients at the bar, but as I didn’t have to be at work until the next night, I took a little sample from each bottle at home.

As far as sour mix is concerned, his Phantastic Sour Mix is fine. It tastes like, well, like sour mix. It’s bright yellow and it tastes like strong artificial lemonade. But to me, there’s no replacement for freshly-squeezed lemon juice and a touch of pure sugar with my whiskey. Call me a snob, but I don’t know why you would choose anything else. So, the Phantastic Sour Mix gets a B, but sour mix in general gets a D+.

Next up was the lime juice. Sweet, bright green and just a little syrupy, it was hard for me to relate this back to the Queen of Sweetened Lime Juice, the venerable Rose’s. The flavor I experienced here was a little brighter and maybe a little more realistic then Rose’s, but I still hold sweetened lime juice at arm’s length: I like it in a gimlet, but I wouldn’t use it anywhere else. The score for Patrick Henry’s: A-. The score for sweetened lime juice in general: C+.

The Bloody Mary mix was another story. A good Bloody Mary is a tough drink to master, because it calls for balance in ways that other cocktails don’t demand. There has to be an element of sour, an element of sweet, and a touch of spice – and neither one can overpower the other or the drink has been ruined. I know that home bartenders don’t want to deal with a bunch of complicated ingredients and preparation, so I recognize the need for good, readily available mixes. Of all the bottled Bloody Mary mixes I’ve tried, this has to be one of the best. The balance of flavors is good, and I had a feeling that mixed with an acidic vodka it would make for a great Mary. Patrick Henry gets an A-. Bloody Mary mix gets a B.

I couldn’t wait to get to work to try these out on some unwitting subjects. I was planning on making a whiskey sour, a kamikaze, and a traditional Bloody Mary. So, the next day I packed the three bottles in a grocery sack with some other ingredients I was planning on trying out at work that night. I parked my car, fed the meter, and pulled my sack of goodies from the passenger side of the car. As I walked across the street to the restaurant, the bottom of the bag fell out and the three glass bottles of Patrick Henry’s cocktail mixers shattered on the pavement.

As I was picking up the sharp, wet slivers of glass and packing them back into the bag, I had a thought: why aren’t these damn things packed in plastic bottles? I’m sad that I never got to give them a fair shake behind the bar. There was even a whole Serrano pepper in the Bloody Mary bottle, which I thought was a nice touch. Too bad it was covered in broken glass.

I don’t know how these heavy, breakable bottles of cocktail mixers would work in a real-life bar situation, but for the home user not willing to squeeze a few lemons or spend a half hour making Bloody Mary mix, these are some pretty high-quality mixes. You can purchase them here.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

My Review of Patrick Henry’s Cocktail Mixers

The Mr. and Mrs. Jones Juicer Set by Polly George would be a fine addition to your Adamms Family-inspired bar. Simply cut your fruit in half, and ream on the lifelike small head and torso that protrudes from the bowl. The copy doesn’t mention how to get the juice from the bowl, or how easily a head might become lodged in a lemon as you wrest it from its tiny torso, but if you’re looking to do a lot of work and maximize your creepiness at this year’s Halloween party, this might be the best hundred you’d dropped in a while.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones Juicer Set, $90 at Velocity

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Creepy Juicers for Sale