I’m on the plane sitting in the exit row (more leg room ftw). The sky is trying very hard to be the color of Saturday morning cartoon water, and it’s doing a wonderful job heralding the beautiful 68 degree San Francisco weather I’ll be enjoying for the next 12 days. Beyond attending a conference for my real job, I’ll be doing my best to hit every damn bar in the city. Well, at least the upstanding citizens of the group. Food will be sought with berserker-like intensity and function as my moral compass for each and every decision. But more importantly, and don’t tell them, I’m as excited as a puppy with peanut butter to hang out with some old friends, cocktail geeks, and ardent enemies (sorry Matt).
If all goes well, and I fully expect it not to, I’ll be chronicling my efforts here on KP. As Evil Matt, Gabe, Camper, lovely Char, Erik, Michele, Adam, Jonno, and Matt already know, I have changed my name to Scheduletron 4000 two weeks ago. This basically means I’ve been spitting out so many planning emails that I might as well be playing a game of Diplomacy. And yes, I’ve even created a google map with all of the restaurants and bars I hope to visit (note my hotel right in the middle of them). I think this was the point that Camper asked me to stop emailing him…
So here is my list, in no particular order, of where I hope to galavant, imbibe, and stuff my gaping maw:
Bars / Restaurants
- Heaven’s Dog
- Clock Bar
- Bourbon and Branch
- Dottie’s True Blue Cafe
- Slanted Door
As I’ll surely mention later this week, all those lovely people I listed above are going to be attending the American Distillery Conference, but more excitingly, jamming glass to metal for a live Thrusday Drink Night. The theme is Metaxa, and I hope to make it out alive.
What? You thought I’d leave you without a drink? About a month ago, I cracked my virgin bottle of Ramazotti and it’s produced a nimiety of pimpin’ praises. First off, it’s the most wonderful color of dried blood. Second, it’s an Italian bitter. Wait one second. Isn’t there another Italian bitter that I’m fond of? Curse me, I simply cannot remember it. I don’t have my bottle on hand at 38,000 feet to properly write tasting notes, so I’ll try to wing it.
Orange is predominant, but think dried out and scrunched up like raisins. You know, like what an orange that’s had a few too many citrus twists removed from it looks like after sitting on your counter for a week. Next is a sweet vermouth roundness that makes me want to go drink a big glass of Carpano. And finally, it plants an carefully-devised bitter herb garden in your mouth that would make even the most stoic Chartreusan monk green with envy.
- 1 1/2oz gin (something citrusy and assertive like Tanqueray 10)
- 1oz Ramazzotti
- 1t cinnamon syrup
- 1 dash absinthe
- 1 dash rhubarb bitters
- 1 dash celery bitters
- orange peel, for garnish
Stir with cracked ice and quiet restraint. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with an orange peel, or tree.
Rick from Kaiser Penguin
- Are there any places I’ve missed?
- What are the top three spots in each category?