One thing this country has always enjoyed is a good drink. Whether it was rum on the Atlantic, bourbon at the races or that Bloody Mary at Sunday Brunch, alcohol is the American Drink.

American Drink is a year old today!

First, thanks to all you likers, rebloggers, linkers, subscribers and just plain ol’ readers. It’s our hope that we helped you become better drinkers vs. better-than-you drinkers.

For those of you who are new to newish to AD, here are a few posts to help get you started:

Second, thanks to the contributors. How awesome are they? Very. Check it:

It’s been a fun year. We’re still figuring things out and we’re learning a ton. There are changes in the works to make navigating, searching and reading the site a much better experience.

Thanks again, everybody.

Be responsible. Drink for fun.

Posted at 2:14pm.

Last Call for Lynchburg (Pop. 361)

But for the population of Lynchburg, what’s off the label is a real eye-opener—starting with the population. “Pop. 361” is gone.

Hollie Embling moved here 30 years ago, married a Jack Daniel barrel roller and had four kids. “That made it 366,” she joshed one day. Jack Daniel’s label stuck to 361, regardless.

Jack Daniel’s Distillery is making a few changes to their iconic label. Gone will be the population inaccuracy (actual 6,362) and Lem Motlow’s name. So Barry Newman at the Wall Street Journal decided to fact-check the whole thing.

1866? Americas oldest registered distillery? Who’s Lem Motlow?

Through prohibition, Lem Motlow kept Jack’s whiskey alive, if not flowing—even after he shot a man on a train while drunk in 1924. (He was tried for murder and acquitted.) Lem died in 1947, and his four sons took over the management.

Posted at 2:54pm and tagged with: one column, Albert,.

May 27th 2011

Reblogged from life|377 notes

life:

What’s worse than warm scotch? Extremely watered down scotch, obviously.

No need to fret, ladies and gentleman, the problem has been fixed! Teroforma Shop’s Whisky Lover set solves that problem by replacing the ice cubes with six soapstone cubes that cool down your drink — and provide that essential “clink” — without diluting the whisky.

Whether you’re a grad or a dad… It’s a pretty great gift. Stumped on ideas? LIFE’s guide to Great-Looking Gifts.

Better Question: What’s worse than either warm or extremely watered down scotch? Perfectly good scotch with GODDAMN ROCKS IN IT.

Funny, we got an email from our friend Jon Dascola about these cute accessories last week. For space, I’ll paraphrase his well-written and objective review, which details his journey from excited-but-skeptical scotch drinker to…

Well, he thought they sucked. Didn’t chill it one bit, he said. Not in the least, he said. And he wanted to know what we thought.

Since “Acerbic Half-Informed Opinion” is my Team American Drink superpower, I was happy to chime in. After all, I’ve never even tried the things. What I have done though, a result of spending half my adult life behind a bar and the other half in front of it, is develop a fairly fine-tuned bullshit detector.

And I’m calling bullshit on Teroforma Whisky Stones.

First of all, “dilution” is not a bad word.1 Save for a few full-strength varieties, all whisky is diluted. Distillers add water right out of the barrel to get whisky to its desired bottling proof. After that, adding even more water is known to be a great way to open up a whisky’s aromas and keep the alcohol heat from numbing your palate to all those tasty accents locked inside that aged single malt. Cold can’t do that by itself. Only water can. Wanna avoid too much water? Take Jon’s advice and use a bigger cube.

But what if you’re the type who prefers your whisky straight-up, as the distiller intended? Well high-five, Josey Wales. We should go drinkin’ sometime.

If I’m sampling, especially rye or bourbon, I almost always go straight. With scotch, I do the same, but I usually end up adding a cube or two halfway through to get the full effect.

That said, if the whisky’s too warm, the alcohol sensation is exaggerated and many of the flavors vanish. So indeed, chilling without water can make a positive difference.

But what if my whisky isn’t warm? Or what if it’s REALLY warm? Where’s the exact resting proof+temperature+age sweetspot where .25 degrees—or whatever minute change a slightly chilled piece of soapstone imparts on 3 ounces of room-temp scotch—makes a difference?

Let me answer: Who the fuck knows. That’s why there’s ice.

Otherwise, if I want chill minus water, I’m better off putting my glass in the fridge for 5 minutes, lowering the AC in my house, or maybe, just maybe, not storing my 23-year-old Rittenhouse atop the attic furnace.


  1. To be fair, I’m mostly bitching about LIFE’s write-up. For their part, Teroforma (at least on their site) seem to avoid any claims that the stones do anything at all, let alone “cool down your drink.” And they certainly don’t purport to be any sort of cure for the non-ailment of whisky dilution. It’s LIFE that does all the marketing here. 

posted by sloganeerist

Posted at 10:18am.

life:

What’s worse than warm scotch? Extremely watered down scotch, obviously.
No need to fret, ladies and gentleman, the problem has been fixed! Teroforma Shop’s Whisky Lover set solves that problem by replacing the  ice cubes with six soapstone cubes that cool down your drink — and  provide that essential “clink” — without diluting the whisky.
Whether you’re a grad or a dad… It’s a pretty great gift. Stumped on ideas? LIFE’s guide to Great-Looking Gifts.



Better Question: What’s worse than either warm or extremely watered down scotch?  Perfectly good scotch with GODDAMN ROCKS IN IT.

Funny, we got an email from our friend Jon Dascola about these cute accessories last week. For space, I’ll paraphrase his well-written and objective review, which details his journey from excited-but-skeptical scotch drinker to…

Well, he thought they sucked. Didn’t chill it one bit, he said. Not in the least, he said. And he wanted to know what we thought.

Since “Acerbic Half-Informed Opinion” is my Team American Drink superpower, I was happy to chime in. After all, I’ve never even tried the things. What I have done though, a result of spending half my adult life behind a bar and the other half in front of it, is develop a fairly fine-tuned bullshit detector.

And I’m calling bullshit on Teroforma Whisky Stones.

First of all, “dilution” is not a bad word.1 Save for a few full-strength varieties, all whisky is diluted. Distillers add water right out of the barrel to get whisky to its desired bottling proof. After that, adding even more water is known to be a great way to open up a whisky’s aromas and keep the alcohol heat from numbing your palate to all those tasty accents locked inside that aged single malt. Cold can’t do that by itself. Only water can. Wanna avoid too much water? Take Jon’s advice and use a bigger cube.

But what if you’re the type who prefers your whisky straight-up, as the distiller intended? Well high-five, Josey Wales. We should go drinkin’ sometime.

If I’m sampling, especially rye or bourbon, I almost always go straight. With scotch, I do the same, but I usually end up adding a cube or two halfway through to get the full effect.

That said, if the whisky’s too warm, the alcohol sensation is exaggerated and many of the flavors vanish. So indeed, chilling without water can make a positive difference.

But what if my whisky isn’t warm? Or what if it’s REALLY warm? Where’s the exact resting proof+temperature+age sweetspot where .25 degrees—or whatever minute change a slightly chilled piece of soapstone imparts on 3 ounces of room-temp scotch—makes a difference?

Let me answer: Who the fuck knows. That’s why there’s ice.

Otherwise, if I want chill minus water, I’m better off putting my glass in the fridge for 5 minutes, lowering the AC in my house, or maybe, just maybe, not storing my 23-year-old Rittenhouse atop the attic furnace.



To be fair, I’m mostly bitching about LIFE’s write-up. For their part, Teroforma (at least on their site) seem to avoid any claims that the stones do anything at all, let alone “cool down your drink.” And they certainly don’t purport to be any sort of cure for the non-ailment of whisky dilution. It’s LIFE that does all the marketing here. ↩
[…] a good drink has as much to do with the ingredients outside the glass as those in it.

(Source: her0inchic.com)

posted by seoulbrother

Posted at 1:00pm.

Drive-thru liquor store Joplin, MO. (2009) by modmodmanya

United Way’s Joplin Tornado Relief Fund

posted by seoulbrother

Posted at 2:32pm.

Drive-thru liquor store Joplin, MO. (2009) by modmodmanya

United Way’s Joplin Tornado Relief Fund

Exterior of a state liquor store in Seattle. Circa 1971. Photo by Ron Allen, courtesy Washington State Digital Archives.

(via Vintage Seattle, h/t kaebot)

posted by seoulbrother

Posted at 1:00pm.

Exterior of a state liquor store in Seattle. Circa 1971. Photo by Ron Allen, courtesy Washington State Digital Archives.

(via Vintage Seattle, h/t kaebot)

I am so late to this; everyone, Hannah “Harto” Hart, star of My Drunk Kitchen— a drinking show about cooking that’s worth your time.

Learn to drunk-make:

Write drunk; edit sober.
— Ernest Hemingway

(via everyone on Internet)

(Source: rartastic)

posted by seoulbrother

Posted at 11:45am.

toothpickswords:

I like to order Martinis. Sometimes I stick with whiskey on ice. My friend likes white wine.

Apparently these drinks say things about us. They say more than “he likes gin.” They’re easy targets. “That’s an alcoholic’s drink,” I’ve heard. “That’s a girl drink.”

I reject that.

Short and to the point. Read on…

Posted at 1:00pm.

Cinco de Mayo was only a few days ago and to celebrate, I made my own Mexican Martini. This drink holds a special place in my mind because it is the first alcoholic drink I ordered when I turned 21.

Mexican Martinis were popularized at Tex-Mex restaurants; they’re served with a shaker and a martini glass. Essentially this drink is a dirty play on the much-loved margarita. Recipes I found online included a “dash of Sprite.” I recommend skipping the Sprite and substituting it with a dash of simple syrup if it proves to be too tart. 

Mexican Martini

2 oz of 100% Agave tequila

1 oz of Triple Sec or your favorite orange liqueur

2 oz of lime juice

1 oz of orange juice

1-2 dashes of olive juice, to your taste

Toss all of the above ingredients in a shaker with ice, shake, shake, shake, then strain into a chilled martini glass and garnish with olives. 

NOTE: If you like Katie Spence’s photos check out Your New Favorite Store.

posted by yournewfavorite

Posted at 12:00pm and tagged with: Special Guest Star, Tequila, submission,.

Cinco de Mayo was only a few days ago and to celebrate, I made my own Mexican Martini. This drink holds a special place in my mind because it is the first alcoholic drink I ordered when I turned 21.

Mexican Martinis were popularized at Tex-Mex restaurants; they’re served with a shaker and a martini glass. Essentially this drink is a dirty play on the much-loved margarita. Recipes I found online included a “dash of Sprite.” I recommend skipping the Sprite and substituting it with a dash of simple syrup if it proves to be too tart. 



Mexican Martini


2 oz of 100% Agave tequila
1 oz of Triple Sec or your favorite orange liqueur
2 oz of lime juice
1 oz of orange juice
1-2 dashes of olive juice, to your taste


Toss all of the above ingredients in a shaker with ice, shake, shake, shake, then strain into a chilled martini glass and garnish with olives. 

NOTE: If you like Katie Spence’s photos check out Your New Favorite Store.