They're invisible and smell like acorns.

There’s a monster lizard!!!

What started as a predicted “2-4 inches beginning in early afternoon” before the main blizzard event rapidly escalated when at 7am, there was a blanket of 4″+. Yeah. Apparently some sort of “microburst” which “didn’t show up on radar” hit Portland and dumped half a foot. BEFORE the actual blizzard. Awesome.

Weathermen/women should be publicly whipped when they’re this wrong.
Or take a pay cut.

I know which would be more entertaining on the 11 o’clock news.

Yes, I’ve heard it before: it’s nearly impossible to predict the weather. So… why is that a profession? Couldn’t we just throw darts at a board of weather events with about the same rate of accuracy? Or let a monkey do it? (That would be awesome.) It’s not even that they’re so constantly wrong: it’s that there’s no accountability. Why is this a magic job with no consequences for consistently poor performance?
And how do I get this job?


So, the Lady Friend and I were discharged from work at noon, and proceeded to spend the rest of the day drinking stouts, and watching The Empire Strikes Back, certainly both fine choices for a snowy afternoon. But then it was cocktail time, and something had to be done. I had already decided I wanted something with rum. And pineapple. Because screw you, snow. It’s going to be tropical in my belly.


This one comes from The Rum 1000 by Ray Foley. It’s a half decent go-to if you’re looking specifically for rum drinks, but a tad annoying, as many cocktails are named by brand. I don’t need different recipes for an Appleton Daiquiri, a Bacardi Daiquiri, a spiced Daiquiri, and several other variations. At least there wasn’t a Captain Morgan’s Daiquiri. Wait… the “spiced” one was. Ugh. I guess it was a bit of a stretch to get to 1,000 recipes. But basically a lot of them have rum and pineapple, so I picked one and went for it.


Blue Hawaiian
From The Rum 1000 by Ray Foley

- 1 oz white rum (Bully Boy!)
- 1 oz blue curaçao
- 1 oz coconut cream (Coco Lopez)
- 2 oz pineapple juice

The book says to “blend with a scoop of crushed ice until smooth” and serve in “a glass.” Very detailed. I went a different route. Shake everything as normal, strain into a snow-filled pineapple cup, garnish with a cherry, pineapple slice, and a whole bunch of tropical tiki junk. Drink. Repeat until the snow stops.


Broke out the tastilicious Bully Boy on this one, and juiced up some fresh pineapple. Coconut cream makes everything taste happy (Coco Lopez has a squeeze bottle… use that. It’s much easier than the can) and blue curaçao turned everything blue-green. The pineapple cup took some doing, but was worth it just for the occasion. I wish I had made it bigger.

The drink smells… well, like sugar cookie rum, pineapple, and coconut. There’s a slight astringency from the rum, but this isn’t a complex sipper. A couple dashes of Angostura bitters would really help this along, but it’s not necessary. Somehow any drink that uses blue curaçao doesn’t seem worthy of bitters.

It tastes… well, again, about how it smells. The coconut cream is forefront in the flavor, which a choking sweetness and syrupy texture. Bully Boy rummy goodness adds to the sweet, but the booze helps cut through a bit. The pineapple just kind of hangs out in the background making everything juicy and happy. I don’t get any of the blue curaçao, though a touch of that alcohol astringency might be from that triple sec dryness.

It’s not terribly complex, but it’s not supposed to be. It’s a super-sweet tropical drink to make you forget about the accumulating snowdrifts. Sunshine in a cup. If you have enough of them, you can actually feel the deck of the cruise ship sway under your feet. Don’t fall overboard. There’s no water: just snow.

Rum.
I wanted rum tonight.
The Lady Friend had a super awesome Manhattan (THIS version) and I was kind of jealous, but I already had my heart set on RUM. I don’t know why, but I did.

So, I started flipping through the New York Bartender’s Guide by Sally Ann Berk, where I had previously found The Million Dollar Cocktail. This book sorts by liquor, which is awesome, so I started in the middle of the rum section. There were a few interesting recipes to save for another time, but I had to start over at the beginning of the section to find this one: Beachcomber’s Gold. I’m going to assume this one was either created by, or named for (or both), Tiki drink legend Don the Beachcomber. Apparently there are other versions out there, but they’re nothing like the version I made. They do use a cool ice “garnish,” but this version is many much more easiers. You heard me.


Three ingredients. And one of them is rum. The other two are actually both vermouth, but they’re different kinds. That’s it. It’s basically a Perfect Manhattan/Martini with rum instead of whiskey or gin. “Perfect” in these cases means using equal parts dry/white and sweet/red vermouths. A Martini uses dry vermouth, a Manhattan uses sweet, and a “perfect” version of either uses both dry and sweet. Got it? Great. Drink time.


Beachcomber’s Gold
From the New York Bartender’s Guide

- 2 oz light rum (Bully Boy)
- 1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Martini & Rossi)
- 1/2 oz dry vermouth (Martini & Rossi)

The book says to shake it, and strain into a cocktail glass full of crushed ice. Nuts to that. I’m treating this like a Martini/Manhattan or any other spirit-only drink, which means STIRRING it. Since she got that first part wrong, I’m also going to ignore that bit about crushed ice, and serve it UP, in a chilled cocktail coupe. There was no word on garnish either, but with rum, a lime peel might work nicely. I left it plain this time.


Broke out the Bully Boy rum for this one. The recipe is for a light rum, but the Bully Boy has tons of flavor. Like a molasses-coated sugar cookie spread its legs, grunted, and gave birth to a bottle of rum. It probably wasn’t the right type of light rum to use for this, as the flavorful Bully Boy tends to overwhelm things, but with only vermouths as the other ingredients, I figure I may as well put something tasty in there. The drink does have a lovely golden hue (hence the name) as the reddish sweet vermouth is diluted by the faint yellow dry vermouth and clear rum.


The drink reeks of the aforementioned sugar cookie offspring, with a touch of grapey wine-ness underneath. This is a brand new bottle of sweet vermouth, and the difference is apparent. Vermouth is a wine, and tends to lose its aroma and flavor after about a month. Keep it in the fridge after opening, but unless you power through Manhattans and Negronis like I do, buy the little 375ml bottles so you don’t feel too bad about throwing any unused remains out at the end of the month.

The taste is a wash of that sweet blackstrap rum up front, with a pleasant warm alcoholic tingle. Interestingly enough, the vermouth strikes back in the middle of the taste, oozing in with a syrupy dark grape and lightly floral essence. I really didn’t expect the wines to put up a fight against the rum, but it really works out well. The vermouths take the sting out of the spirit, leaving behind the flavors, while adding their own grapey contributions. This is certainly a grown-up cocktail, though I would caution that the same recipe with Bacardi will not be terribly exciting. Having had the “perfect” version, I’d like to go back and try both a sweet and dry version of this drink. My guess is that the sweet will have a nice dark syrup to play with the rum’s spice (oooh… especially with a dash or two of Angostura), whereas the dry version will be more akin to a lighter, floral concoction, like the Presidente without the grenadine. I’d go with orange bitters on that one and see how things play out.


Well there you go. I just gave you three cocktails for the price of one. Bunch of moochers. Go make one! NOWS.


The Lady Friend grudgingly tried the recipe and offered the following pearls of wisdom: “I smell the Bully Boy, the cupcakes, rainbows, and all that good stuff. Hmmm. I immediately get the grapey vermouth, but I can pick up some of that sweet Bully Boy. It’s alright. I wouldn’t drink it, but… *shrugs* It’s an interesting cocktail, but I wouldn’t choose it.”


Great. Thanks.

No, not this:

or this:

…even if it rocks in a mid-80s power ballad sort of way.

Nope, tonight’s Rule 37 comes courtesy of BarNoneDrinks.com, a site I stumbled upon while looking to see if last week’s Rule 37 had a name. I was searching for drinks that combined white rum and brandy, and found several other options. While we did the rum/brandy thing last week, with great success (after some tweaking), this recipe seems quite tasty, and a tad more summery. Though it’s hard to beat a Daiquiri variation for a warm weather drink, the use of orange, lemon and lime juice, with some grenadine, makes for a very pleasant tipple. I did find numerous online references to the drink, (and strangely, they all actually agree on the ingredients) but I couldn’t find any specific history, or why its got that name. It could very well be named for the Fletcher Christian in Mutiny on the Bounty, but could also just be some random name. Let’s give it a whirl.


Mister Christian
From BarNoneDrinks.com

- 1 1/2 oz white rum (here comes the Bully Boy again)
- 1/2 oz brandy
- 1 oz fresh orange juice
- 1/2 oz fresh lemon juice
- 1/2 oz fresh lime juice
- 1 tsp real grenadine

Shake it up, strain it out. Use a chilled cocktail glass. No garnish specified, but I was feeling fancy and added a big ‘ol orange swatch, which I flamed over the top.


Here’s a tip: if you don’t keep cocktail glasses in the freezer (like I do) you can quickly chill one down while you make the drink. Fill a cocktail glass with ice, then pour in some cold water. Let it sit there while you mix and shake your ingredients. When you’re ready to serve, dump out the ice/water, and pour in your drink.


Well, thanks to the flamed orange peel, it smells orangy, mixing with the sugary goodness of the Bully Boy. It has a creamsicle aroma, and is quite inviting. The taste, however, is not so creamy. Bully Boy up front, with a slight touch of that dark, raisin sweetness from the brandy, though as with last week, I’d like to taste more of it. The medley of citrus fruits bounce between varied levels of tartness, with the lime adding a snap, the orange sweetening and rounding the drink, and the lemon playing a referee in their midst. I went with a healthy squeeze of grenadine from my bottle, which certainly changed the hue of the drink over towards a solid orange, but the taste isn’t very apparent. There’s already plenty of flavor going on, and the grenadine is content to sit quietly in the background. Overall the drink is tasty, but too sweet, and thus, not as thirst-quenching as a good Daiquiri, Tom Collins, or G&T would be. It could honestly use a bit more bitter/tart, or booze, to counteract the juices. It would probably be lovely served in a collins glass and topped with soda to even things out.

The Lady Friend expected it to be really sweet, and it was more tart than she expected. That might be due to a slightly overripe lime. “I’m really curious to taste what it would be like without the Bully Boy.” A valid point. “A less-sweet rum might work better with this, but it wouldn’t be as fun without the Bully Boy.”


UPDATE: So, I made another one. Tried the Collins version, which means basically making hte original recipe, pouring into a tall/chimney/highball/Collins glass filled with ice, and topping with soda water. Disclaimer… the recipe makes rather a lot of liquid. Two ounces of booze and another two ounces of fruit juice, plus a splash of grenadine and some water (water is added to a cocktail through dilution when you shake or stir a drink. It’s pretty important). So in my ice-filled collins glass, it came pretty much to the top. No problem… just take a heavy quaff and make some room for the soda water. I took the level down by about 1/4 to allow for some bubbly fizzy wizzbang water. Another big swath of orange peel (trim off as much of the white pith as possible) for a garnish and a straw. Yes, Rule 48 of the 86 Rules of Boozing states that “Men don’t drink from straws. Unless you’re doing a Mind or Face Eraser” though I take that rule with a bit of flexibility for tall drinks which need the straw to a) stir occasionally and b) drink the bottom depths of the drink without getting a face full of ice.


The Mister Christian Collins noses with a light orange aroma. Not quite the creamsicle sensation of the straight version, but very nice and light. The taste is about what you’d expect… Bully Boy, citrus fruitiness, and a carbonic fizz. It’s not bad at all. Again, I’d want more brandy for an added flavor component, and the lime, lemon, and orange resume their previous roles, though somewhat diminished by the bubbling dilution. The soda water does add a liveliness to the drink, and it helps lighten up that previous sensation of cloying sweetness. It’s quite nice. I like both versions, but the Collins variation is a touch more summery, with the same booze kick.


How do you like that? As with last week, it’s like getting two drinks in the same post! Pick your poison, or try each one and see what works.

Ah, the first official Rule 37 in the new Portland, Maine SFHQ!

This one started with a previous Rule 37 involving both brandy and rum. The Bacardi used in that one was completely underwhelming, but it did make me think of the possibilities between the two spirits. Now that my Bully Boy was back in my rummy little hands again, it was time to make a summery drink to combat the moist horror of early July.

So, we’ve got a variation of a Daiquiri. It’s kind of like Between the Sheets and/or the Boston Sidecar, but both of those use triple sec, whereas I went with (raw) simple syrup as the sweetener here. My thinking was to start with a Daiquiri base and add brandy, rather than start from a Sidecar and add rum (which is a Boston Sidecar). I’m sure this one has a proper name somewhere, but I couldn’t find it. If you know what this drink actually is (besides awesomely tasty) let me know. But until then, I’ll just call it a Portland Daiquiri, in honor of the new digs.


The Portland Daiquiri

- 1 oz white rum (Bully Boy)
- 1/2 oz brandy (good ol’ E&J)
- 1 oz fresh lime juice
- 1 oz raw simple syrup

Mix em together, shake good and hard. Serve in a chilled cocktail glass with a lime wheel float.

*Dude, it’s probably not healthy like at all, but still, likely better than the bleached, refined white sugar.


So, it noses with the characteristic Bully Boy bouquet of sugar cookies and sunshine up front, but a syrupy sweetness underneath. Yum.

The taste? Oh, that’s good. Dark and sweet. The Bully Boy is of course at the forefront, but there’s a dark, alluring sweetness underneath.

The brandy really helps create some new flavors, with a hint of syrupy grape, almost a raisin quality. Though it’s tasty, I’d love to add a touch more brandy to see what happens. This is miles away from the silly Bacardi cocktails of the past few Rule 37s. There’s almost a syrupy, slightly mouthcoating texture, with a fresh lime tart to keep it from getting out of hand. It’s just not quite what I wanted. This one slides down a little too easily, and could stand to be a bit more boozy. I think I’ll give it another try while upping each spirit by double.


The Portland Daiquiri #2
UPDATE: New recipe.

- 2 oz white rum (BBoy)
- 1 oz brandy (E&J)
- 1 oz fresh lime juice
- 1 oz raw simple syrup

Uh, yeah. Do what you did before. Shake it all up, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Plop a lime wheel in there. Drink it.




Ok. Certainly boozier, but not unpleasantly so. There’s still plenty of flavor from the BBoy, and that dark syrupy grape from the brandy comes to play as well. The two get along quite well, with lime and raw sugar rounding it all out. This is MUCH more enjoyable. The first version was simply too sweet. Well, actually, the first version was quite tasty, but it needed more of a kick to get it into a better flavor balance. Upping the booze content is one option when dealing with a overly sweetened drink, and in this case it paid off. Of course, you COULD simply use less sweetener, but I prefer adding more booze.

The Lady Friend gives this version her approval saying: “This one is much better balanced. You can appreciate the different spirits in it for what they are.”


Yeah. Try the second version. It simply works better.

So, last Friday night I went to Bully Boy’s speakeasy party.

It was pretty sweet.

Let me explain.


A couple months ago, the Bully Boys started dropping hints on Facebook and Twitter that they were going to throw an exclusive bash to celebrate their one year anniversary of the distillery. Old-timey garbed dudes started showing up at local bars, and posters appeared around town, each with a QR code to scan, which took you to a website. From there you registered, and got a secret entry password to the secret location (which wasn’t revealed until a week before the party), in the style of old speakeasies. I still have no idea what my password actually was, since the audio file kinda slurred the last word. Black gull? Black gulp? Black colt? Not a clue. Something like that. So I planned to equally slur the last word to gain entry.

Finally, the location was revealed: the Waterworks Museum out in Chestnut Hill. It’s located on the reservoir, and was the original municipal water pump station for the City of Boston until the 1970s, when the source was switched over to the gigantoid Quabbin Reservoir out in Central MA. The Lady Friend and I arranged a logistical puzzle (she was coming from Seaport in the city, whereas I was coming from work, then into the city on the T) and met up on the green line, carefully avoiding the horror of the B train through Boston University. Seriously, it stops every 30 feet out there. Ridiculous. After snagging a C train to the Reservoir stop (they were running shuttle buses after Reservoir, so we totally lucked out on that one) we had a brief stroll around the Chestnut Hill Reservoir itself, and over to the museum. Entrance was gained via the side door, and in we went. They actually never even asked for the password.

Just inside the door, we ran into co-Bully Boy Will Willis, and chatted for a bit before continuing farther in to the museum. Holy snotrockets. This place was HUGE. Three story-high machinery lit with accent lights towered above, while the DJ pumped out remixes of classic Prohibition-era ditties (before switching over to some sweet Ace of Base). Several bars were set up throughout the machine room, and we sidled up to one to get a few drinks. I led off with a Mojito (pre-mixed, but Mojitos are a pain to make) and the Lady Friend went with the Rough Rider, the whiskey cocktail. After our traditional Bully Boy cheer “BULLY!” We took in the small details while sipping our drinks: the cigarette candle holders (real cigs… I checked), Bully Boy branded coasters, match books and empty liquor bottles as flower vases, all arranged on wooden casks. The Bully Boy logo projected brightly onto the machine room floor, and the guests, some decked-out in Prohibition-era attire, meandered in to clutch highball glasses and stare at the mechanisms looming above.

Our next round of drinks worked out quite nicely as the Rule 37 for the week:

The Commodore

- 2 oz Bully Boy White Rum (our pour was at least double that, but I’m the last to complain about a heavy-handed bartender)
- Top with Night Shift Brewing Trifecta (Belgian-style pale ale)
- Garnish with lemon wedge

Um. Pour a whole bunch of rum into a pint glass and top with the Night Shift. Plop a lemon wedge in there and drink it.


Whoa. It was certainly boozy. Trifecta is a 7% abv beer to begin with, so there’s a decent amount of punch in this pint. Yes, it’s more of a beertail than proper cocktail, but this totally still counts. Nosed with a strange mixture of sugary blackstrap rum and a Belgian-y sweet & sour aroma. The Bully Boy certainly overpowers the brew, but it’s still in there with a faint cry of “I’m not dead yet!” The taste? My notes read “oh that’s strange.” A Belgian fruity and sour note, offset by the sugar of the rum. There’s certainly a boozy astringency as well, and an almost grapey sour quality to the Belgian. I’d have to try the beer straight to get a better idea of it, but the two did get along quite well.

As we slurped our Commodores, the OTHER Bully Boy, Dave, came over and chatted with us for a bit. As we were talking, Michael O’Mara, co-founder and brewer of Night Shift, walked up, fresh from delivering kegs at the American Craft Beer Festival, and we were introduced. His altered suggestion for the drink was a shot of Bully Boy rum, topped with the Trifecta and lemon wedge, but served in the skinny highball glass over ice. It probably would have been a more manageable alcohol content, and a better blend of flavors, but I was satisfied with my big ol’ pint o’ booze.





The Lady Friend and I stayed a bit longer, exploring the museum, tasting more cocktails and having some snacks. We headed out as the party got REALLY crowded, and made our way back to the T, complete with Indiana Jones-style lawn sprinkler evasion maneuvers. While waiting for the God-forsaken T train way out in the wasteland of Cleveland Circle, we observed a pointy kitty (large rat) shuffling and snuffling along the rails. The Lady Friend, unperturbed by our new acquaintance from the Order Rodentia, and perhaps feeling a bit cocktail-laden, insisted on sitting on a junction box clearly marked “Wet Paint.” Luckily for her, it had dried by that point leaving khakis unblemished for the trip home. Bully!

Yes, this is a drink.

Also, it’s vodka-based.

I’m sorry.


This is a bit of a novelty tipple I found in one of my numerous cocktail recipe books. The book is the Playboy Bartender’s Guide, which I picked up on Amazon several years ago for a couple bucks, thinking it was a somewhat pocket-sized little recipe book. Turns out it’s a 480+ page hardbound monster. Totally worth the price. It has a lot of “cocktails” that seem to have come along in the 1970s, and aren’t really terribly tasty, but are fun for the novelty factor. One I’ve been meaning to make for quite some time is simply called “Windex,” and the original plan was to make a whole batch served in the appropriate window fluid bottle, complete with sprayer. That hasn’t happened quite yet, but I did make one to test out with some groovy glowstick lighting techniques.


Windex

- 1 1/2oz vodka (I used Bully Boy, naturally)
- 1 oz triple sec
- 1 oz blue curaçao

Shake it: it should get nice and blue. Strain and serve into a chilled cocktail glass. I used a champagne flute because I was feeling fancy. It would probably do quite nicely with an orange twist, but would somewhat distract from the glass cleaner effect.


Well. Yeah. It’s basically just vodka with triple sec. And more triple sec. Blue curaçao is simply orange curaçao with some blue coloring, and I often admonish the Lady Friend for making cocktails with it. It’s a tad gimmicky to give any credibility to a drink. A bit too party girl for me. The vodka certainly doesn’t help, as that’s another indicator of someone who wants a boozy drink, but doesn’t like the taste of booze. This is all strictly a matter of opinion, and if you’re a vodka-swilling party girl, preferably statuesque, blonde, and open-minded, by all means get in touch and we’ll discuss the matter, intimately.

Anyway, the drink is certainly Windex-blue. Like, bang on. It’s got that medicinal orangy aroma of triple sec, with a sickly sweetness. Um. That’s about it.

It tastes… well… about like the ingredients would seem. It’s sugary, fake orange flavored, with a kick of booze in there. I specifically went with the Bully Boy vodka for this one over Flag Hill’s General John Stark vodka because I wanted the neutrality of a clean spirit As mentioned in my review, the Flag Hill has a definite apple aroma and taste to it. I think it might actually play nicely with the orange sweetness in this drink and add a little more character to it.

Clearly, this drink is all about the color novelty, and when served in a Windex bottle, should nicely do the trick. I’m reminded of comedian/magician The Amazing Johnathan, who would routinely drink from a similar bottle during his stage act. A great ruse. And that’s what this drink is about: the gimmick. It’s the novelty factor that you want from this drink, instead of a quality crafted beverage.


Plus, it really just kinda looks cool.

For our Bully Boy rum review click here: Bully Boy Rum
For our Bully Boy vodka review click here: Bully Boy Vodka
For our visit to the Bully Boy distillery click here: Bully Boy Distillery

Finally, we come to the the final installment of my Bully Boy product line reviews. That is, until their aged stuff has finished properly aging. Which is taking FOR-EV-ERRRR.

Sidebar: if you can find a way to either accelerate or restrict the aging process, then either alcohol producers or Baby Boomers will pay you uncountable fortunes.

Bully Boy produces a wheat-based, white whiskey, two unusual characteristics that are becoming more popular in the industry. With white (clear) unaged whiskies popping up on shelves labeled as “white dog,” “white lightning,” or even straight-up “moonshine,” Bully Boy takes the trend and adds a bit more craft to the process. Like their vodka, the use of regionally-sourced wheat earns the whiskey a USDA Organic stamp, and an entirely different flavor from most other brands, which tend to use corn more than wheat, rye, or barley.

To be legally labeled as whiskey, rather than “unaged wheat spirit,” you have to age it. Bully Boy ages theirs for eight hours. Yup. Eight. That’s it. They started off with a full 24 hours, but wound up with more of the barrel’s smokey char flavor than desired. Despite the raw, alcohol burn of the young whiskey, this one clocks in at a standard 80 proof, 40% abv.

Time for a sample.


Nose: A bit hot in the nose. Some mild acetone, but with a sweetness lurking underneath. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it sugary, but there’s a very dry, honey candy behind the booze. It’s like the missing link between the vodka’s “wet granite” (couldn’t resist) neutral spirit, and the rum’s molasses sugar wonderland. Being a wheat-based spirit, I’m picking up a lot of banana as well, much like a Belgian beer, though lacking the clove spice that often goes with it. There’s an herbal essence (try the body wash!) reminiscent of Irish poteen, though a side-by-side comparison with both my Bunratty and Knockeen Hills emphasizes the alcoholic nose of the Bully Boy.

Taste: Neat, at room temperature. Hot on the tongue, then evaporates cleanly, leaving behind flavors of dry wheat grasses and a mildly antiseptic vodka-like cleanliness. There’s quite a bit of that dry honey again, and even a bit of dry wild herbs, like a very subdued poteen.


Let’s put it in a cocktail and see what happens. Since last week’s Rule 37 was the scotch whisky based Affinity cocktail, I though I’d give it a try with the Bully Boy. The original recipe of equal parts spirit, sweet vermouth and dry vermouth with Angostura bitters tasted much more vermouthy than the scotch version of the drink. The more delicate Bully Boy is washed away in a tipple where even the Angostura makes its presence know in the middle ground. As I suspected, when using a spirit less powerful than a Big Scotch, the recipe needs some tweaking. So tweak I did, arriving at this recipe, which I suppose I’d have to call “An Affinity for Bully Boy.”


An Affinity for Bully Boy
Original recipe on right, updated variation on left.

- 1 1/2 oz Bully Boy Whiskey
- 3/4 oz sweet vermouth
- 3/4 oz dry vermouth
- 1 dash orange bitters

STIR in an ice-filled mixing glass and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. No garnish necessary, though a flamed orange peel would likely do wonders.


First off, it’s more of a pale orange than the normal Affinity, and the recipe is closer to a Perfect Manhattan, though not quite there yet. Notes of orange mingle with the Bully Boy’s hot nose, though a bit of the banana wheat eases through.

The taste is very orange-bitter forward, with the vermouth syrup gluing in a dry whiskey element. A bit more on the tart side (I was likely a tad overzealous with the bitters) but very smooth overall, with the fiery whiskey tempered down to a warming glow. It’s much more pleasant this way, though there’s not a terribly strong flavor from the spirit. Rather it mixes in layers with the vermouths and bitters as a lovely complex dance; your tongue constantly tries to decide what it’s tasting at any particular time, as a lovely warmth builds from the spirit. In the aftertaste, that honey poteen flavor of the whiskey loiters at the sides of the tongue, seemingly not in any hurry to be on its way.

It’s a bit like DayQuil, though in a complimentary way. I wonder if a cherry bitter version would taste like NyQuil? A splash of absinthe would in theory yield a green NyQuil licorice flavor, but really, what kind of psychopath likes the GREEN NyQuil? I originally made this with two dashes of orange bitters, but amended the recipe to half that amount, which should be sufficient to add the orange element without overpowering the drink. Still, this concoction allows you to experience the whiskey’s character while toning down the alcoholic burn. The flavor really shines through in the aftertaste, after the vermouth has eased away.

If I had to do it again, I’d likely just make a White Manhattan with it, which indeed was my original plan, though that wouldn’t be nearly as adventurous. See the risks I take for you people?


So, what’s the conclusion? Well, it’s Bully Boy, so you know it’s got the right attitude behind it, and it’s a well-crafted spirit. I’m not as much of a fan of a) wheat flavors or b) unaged, young whiskey, and the Bully Boy is based on both of those. Drinking it neat is not my preference, though a splash of water does WONDERS to tame the alcohol and release more of the flavors. However, I think this makes an EXCELLENT mixer. I have tried it in other cocktails not listed here, and the unique flavors of the spirit really do some interesting things in a White Manhattan (white whiskey, dry vermouth, orange bitters), or even a simple whiskey sour. The trick with this particular whiskey is finding recipes that allow the flavors to shine through without being overpowered by the other ingredients. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this a delicate whiskey, but it is more subdued than the big bourbons and ryes I’m used to. There are many recipe suggestions listed on their website, most created by local bartenders, who have welcomed a new, locally-produced spirit.

There is an aged version of the whiskey that is… still aging. The first batch has been going since last spring (along with some rum) and I’m DYING to try it. In theory, the barrel aging will tone down some of the fresh-off-the-still alcohol heat and add another layer of smokey vanilla flavors to the wheat fruit, which I think will make it a much more pleasing spirit to sip neat.


If I haven’t convinced you to track down these spirits yet, then I don’t know what else I can do. Get out there and buy some local, handcrafted liquor. That’s an unusual enough situation in itself, but trust me, these are especially tasty. Throw away your Bacardi and put the Bully Boy Rum on your shelf. It’s worlds apart. Add the White Whiskey to your collection of ryes, bourbons, and Scotches. Don’t have a whiskey collection? Well, why not? Start one. If you’re one of those silly vodka drinkers, don’t waste your money on advertising. That’s what you’re really buying when you order Grey Goose like a numbskull. Have you seen any Bully Boy billboards around? Nope. That’s how you know it’s worth buying.

If you live in, around, or anywhere near Boston, you need to try these spirits.

Do it for the Bully Boys.
Do it for Boston.
Do it for AMERICA.

Do it because I told you to.





Squirrel Farts is now accepting solicited product reviews! Send me a bottle and I’ll take a pretty picture and talk it up in the amusing tangential manner you’ve come to expect. Beer, spirits, mixers, whatever. Contact here for details. Note: I will mention that the review was solicited, hell, I’ll even brag about it. Free booze? Damn right. But The Man says I have to say I got it for freebies. I’m excited about free stuff, so whatever. Now, that doesn’t mean that I’ll like it, or that I’ll give it a good review. But chances are if you read this blog, then we’ll get along.
Put it to the test: send me your booze!

For this week’s Rule 37 cocktail, here’s another one from “Old Man Drinks” the cocktail book used for last week’s Rule 37, The Grumpy Old Man. This drink, however, is the polar opposite of a grumpy old man: a cheery young girl called Mary Pickford.

Yeah, I know, you have no idea who Mary Pickford is. Well, she was pretty much the biggest star of the silent film era. She started in vaudeville, eventually graduating to theater by age 15. She discovered the “flickers” a couple years later and decided to make the jump to silent film, marched into some dude’s office (who happened to be named D.W. Griffith) and landed a job on the spot. Her silent film career spanned pretty much the whole era, and she was famous worldwide for her mane of golden locks. She often played the role of little girls, and in one case, a little boy (AND his mother). By 1916 this 24-year-old chick was raking in $150,000 a year when the average household salary was about $2,000. She went on to become a cofounder of a little organization called United Artists, then the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. She married some dude named Douglas Fairbanks, who was also apparently some kind of actor-type guy. She eventually got tired of playing “Little Mary,” and wanted more adult roles, so she pulled a Felicity (or a Britney), and chopped off her famous curls. She was still kind of hot, but people were LIVID that she would do such a thing.

Eventually, she and some guy named Charlie Chaplin were the sole owners of United Artists until she sold out for a cool $1.5 million (IN 1955 DOLLARS). Retired from the movie biz, she married some other actor, and mostly stayed at home to drink a lot. In 1976, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences were all like “is she still alive?” and finding that she was, they decided to give her an honorary Oscar, which is nice considering she was one of the FOUNDERS OF THE WHOLE DEAL. Plus, she already had an Oscar from her 1929 film, Coquette. She died a couple years after the honorary Oscar, but is pretty much a legend of early film, not only for her acting, but for the business role she played in establishing various institutions that stand to this day. LIKE THE DAMN OSCARS.


The recipe book I snagged this from describes the drink as “sweet and tart – just like ‘America’s Sweetheart’ herself.” None of that Horseface Roberts “America’s Sweetheart” nonsense either. Since we’re going so sweet, I figured I’d go all the way and use some sugary happy sunshine vanilla Bully Boy white rum. It can dominate a drink, but with equal parts pineapple juice in the drink, I want a rum that’s going to make itself known, and not fade away like a Bacardi white would.


Mary Pickford
From the book: “That Mary Pickford sure had nice gams. In the 1920s, about the only thing that could take a man’s mind off those stems was this cocktail, which was named for the silent movie star by a bartender in Havana.”

- 2 oz light rum (Bully Boy)
- 2 oz pineapple juice
- 1 teaspoon grenadine
- 1 teaspoon Maraschino liqueur

Shake it like a crying toddler, strain and serve into a cocktail glass. If you get some pineapple foam on the top, you did it right. Garnish with a lime twist, which I neglected to include. I’m sure the lime tart flavor plays better, but aesthetically I’d use a lemon twist to mimic Mary’s golden curls.

It reeks of pineapple juice, though the Bully Boy, as always, manages to poke through with its sweet aroma of sugar, vanilla and rainbows. It tastes overwhelmingly of pineapple juice, though the Bully Boy adds that fresh-baked sugar cookie-ness, and the maraschino does come through in the finish with a tart snap. I can’t pick out the grenadine specifically, but this is such a sweet drink overall that it could easily get lost in there. The maraschino really helps cut through a bit of the overwhelming sweetness, and I think using less pineapple juice might help bring the drink into a more palatable state. It’s quite lovely, but I wouldn’t want to drink these all night. I’d wake up the next morning with a hangover and dia-bee-tus. But as long as I woke up next to some gams like Mary had, then it’d be worth it.

Well, it took awhile, but this week we have a vodka drink. And for good reason. I scored a bottle of Bully Boy’s wheat vodka for review, and decided to put it to the test in a drink you’ve most likely heard of: The Moscow Mule.


But first, a brief dose of history. Vodka is a clear, neutral grain spirit. That means it’s not supposed to have any flavor whatsoever, and you can make it out of whatever you want: potatoes, barley, wheat, apples, corn… anything that will ferment. Boil off the alcohol from the fermented mash, filter it as much as possible (purity is the name of the game with vodka) and there’s your spirit. Poland claims they started doing this in the 8th century, and mentions of it pop up during the Middle Ages. The word itself comes from the Slavic “voda,” or “little water.” Today, vodka is the dominant spirit in America, surpassing whiskey in the 1970s. If you want some real-world proof of this, go to a liquor store (or packie) and compare the number of vodka bottles on the shelves compared to everything else. It’s a landslide. Pretty amusing for something that has no taste.

It wasn’t always that way. In Colonial America, rum was the drink of choice until some sort of dustup with our British overlords closed down the trade routes from the Caribbean. From thereafter it was whiskey time again in America. It’s not as if vodka was completely unknown… Eastern European and Russian immigrants certainly brought their vodka knowledge to America, but it didn’t really catch on until after WWII. Some Russian dude named Rudolph Kunett had bought the rights to produce Smirnoff vodka in North America back in 1933, but no one was buying until they corked the bottles and changed the marketing approach to calling it “white whiskey” with the memorable tagline “Smirnoff leaves you breathless.” Oh, and Smirnoff was featured prominently in some films about a guy named Jimmy Bond. That helped.

Of course, in the 1950s the big red bear was on everyone’s mind, and Americans loved the allure of drinking the enemy’s drink, even though it was produced in America. The Cold War was in full swing, though I think the whole thing could have been solved quite easily by reanimating Theodore Roosevelt to recapture San Juan Hill in Cuba, and challenge Khruschev to some old timey bare-kuckle boxing. Certainly would have taken care of that silly missile crisis… just airdrop TR with a safari hat and he’ll take care of it. Bully!

This is where the Moscow Mule comes in. I refuse to use the term “Cold War classic,” but it does stem from those post-WWII times. Somewhere around the mid-1940s (stories vary) a couple of guys at the Cock ‘n’ Bull pub in Hollywood decided to take some of their homemade ginger beer, throw in some vodka, and half a lime. Bam. That’s the Moscow Mule. The genius of it comes from the marketing ploys used. You see, they served the drink in copper mugs, and eventually made them into official Moscow Mule mugs. America loves a gimmick, and it took off. This was arguably THE cocktail that made vodka popular to the masses. So let’s give it a whirl.


The Moscow Mule

- 2 oz Bully Boy vodka
- 3/4 oz fresh lime juice
- 4-6 oz of ginger beer, to taste

This is a built cocktail, which means you do not shake or stir, but add the ingredients directly to the glass. Slosh the vodka, then lime juice, followed by the ginger beer into a rocks-filled highball glass, or – if you’re so lucky to own one – a proper copper Moscow Mule mug. Give it a quick stir, garnish with lime wedge, and sip the Cold War era goodness. Suck it, Khrushchev.


Coooooool and refreshing. A nice hot ginger snap plays with the lime tart, as in a Dark & Stormy while the vodka adds that mule kick. As with most cocktails, there are many variations on the Moscow Mule recipe. Some use only vodka and ginger with only a lime wedge to taste, and others go with equal parts lime and vodka topped with a splash of ginger. One thing is for sure: you must use ginger BEER, not some wimpy little ginger ALE. The ginger beer has a much stronger, assertive flavor, whereas substituting ginger ale will throw the tastes out of proportion. Some add a splash of simple syrup, but I find it’s not necessary. Others squeeze half a lime and drop the shell in the glass. I prefer mine clean, using only the juice without the pulp. A vodka cocktail always seems to be more about the quality of the ingredients used in the drink, rather than the spirit itself, since it doesn’t add any flavor. This demands FRESH lime juice, and a decent ginger beer. It’ll make a big difference.

As for the vodka, you can try the classic Smirnoff, or upgrade to some Bully Boy. Theirs is a winter red wheat vodka, sourced from Aurora Mills Farm in Maine. A fun little side effect is that it winds up with an “organic” designation. In 2011 it won a gold medal (92 points, exceptional) rating from the Beverage Tasting Institute.

When I think “vodka” I think “cold” and had planned to shoot the Bully Boy in the snow, with a nice wintery background. However, this year, THERE’S NO SNOW. It’s the winter that never was, and aside from messing up my shot, I’m perfectly ok with that. Here’s what I thought of the Bully Boy:

Nose: The astringent medicinal sensations of alcohol. Sterile, clean-smelling, but not hot in the nostrils. Vodka always makes me think I should be cleaning something with it instead of drinking it. It also makes me recall my drink of choice during freshman year of college: Smirnoff and Snapple lemonade. Lots.

Taste: Well, it’s neutral grain spirit, so there’s not SUPPOSED to be any particular taste. With Bully Boy it’s distilled through both column stills then filtered further to remove as many flavor-containing congeners as possible. The Beverage Tasting Institute amusingly claims they get tastes of “wet granite” and “powdered sugar,” but are nice enough to call the spirit “classy.” With vodka, we’re looking for mouthfeel… smooth and oily versus dry and harsh. The Bully Boy is certainly in the smooth category, though I wouldn’t go as far as describing it as oily. Very pleasant, and nicely manages to sidestep the harsh, hot alcohol burn of lesser brands. Very drinkable, and even better as a mixable. I don’t like vodka in general, but I don’t hate this. Especially since it’s locally-produced in Boston. As I said in my Flag Hill Winery post, there’s a certain gratification when serving a local craft product instead of a Big Brand. Well worth the premium.


Bully Boy is Boston’s first craft distiller since Prohibition, producing a wheat vodka, wheat whiskey, and molasses-based white rum. You can find them in these stores and restaurants in MA.
Bottles retail for about $30.






Squirrel Farts is now accepting solicited product reviews! Send me a bottle and I’ll take a pretty picture and talk it up in the amusing tangential manner you’ve come to expect. Beer, spirits, mixers, whatever. Contact here for details. Note: I will mention that the review was solicited, hell, I’ll even brag about it. Free booze? Damn right. But The Man says I have to say I got it for freebies. I’m excited about free stuff, so whatever. Now, that doesn’t mean that I’ll like it, or that I’ll give it a good review. But chances are if you read this blog, then we’ll get along.
Put it to the test: send me your booze!

Ugh. It’s about time for the days to start getting longer. I’m tired of driving home in the dark.


Friday night was, as per the usual, Rule 37 Cocktail night. The Lady Friend made up her own, the Maurad, and I had an Angel’s Tit. And a cocktail. Zing. From there, we had several other drinks… I’m pretty sure she switched over to tequila, and I had myself a Double-term Presidente, using some tasty Roaring Dan’s Maple Rum from Great Lakes Distillery in Milwaukee. I brought it back after a trip out there last year. It’s pretty damn tasty. We did a tour and tasting at the distillery, while I nursed one of the worst hangovers I’ve had in a long long time. Spirit tasting was rough, but I was impressed enough with the rum to buy a bottle. They named it after “Roaring” Dan Seavey, because every rum needs a pirate.

I felt like we should get something accomplished on Saturday, so we hopped the T up to Kendall Square in Cambridge for lunch at Cambridge Brewing Company. It had been awhile since I went to CBC, but it was as tasty as always. There was a large tv up in the corner, which I really wish bars would stop putting in. It’s insanely distracting. At least for me… it doesn’t matter what’s on the tv; I can’t ignore the flickering siren song. In this case, Elf was finishing up as we sat at the bar, which went into The Land of the Lost. The bartender changed the channel and it went to Anchorman. Apparently Will Ferrell is the king of weekend afternoon movies. Following our CBC tastings and lunch, we headed over to the recently-opened (well, April) Meadhall, which boasts 110+ taps. Whoa. After a couple more brews there, it was back to SFHQ and then out to a holiday party in Weymouth. I had a glass of the cranberry champagne cocktail (vurry tastilly tart) and helped myself to an Otter Creek Wolaver’s IPA. Not bad, but nothing mindblowing, a decent, solid hoppy ale.

Sunday’s main event was the return of Sissy to the East Coast for the holidays. We snagged her from Logan and immediately absconded to Sunset Grill and Tap in Allston. Like Redbones, the Lady Friend had never been here before, so it was a visit long past due. They’ve got 100+ taps and I have notoriously bad luck choosing a beer. I’ve gotten into the habit of choosing three beers at a time, since they’re inevitably out of my first two choices. This time was different. I ordered a Boulder Beer Mojo IPA, which was strangely in the Double IPA section (Mojo Risin’ is their dIPA). I was assured that they had it, yet when the glass came, it was oddly dark. Mojo IPA is a nice orangey amber; this was deep nut brown. It smelled malty, without the citrus hop I was expecting. Again, I was assured that it was Boulder’s Mojo. Tasted it… nope. Way too malty. Not bad, but not Mojo. I asked the waitress again if she could find out exactly what “Mojo” it was. She came back with a blank face saying it was “Killer.” That’s all the information she could gather. Turns out, it’s Boulder’s Killer Penguin barleywine, which is a tasty beer, but not at all what I wanted. Ugh. I love Sunset, but it’s always a battle there. I don’t understand why I can’t just get the beer I want.

I followed up with Dogfish Head’s 120 Minute IPA. Because it was on tap, and there wasn’t any available last year. And it’s 120 IBUs. And 18% abv. Yes, eighteen.


After Sunset (the Lady Friend drove us… I was in Happyville, USA after the Dogfish) we returned to home base, the SquirrelFarts Cocktail Cave. Sissy finally got the full drink experience, having never made it to a cocktail night at SFHQ before. I started the two of them off with a round of Rum Stone Sours using the very vanilla tasty Sailor Jerry spiced rum. This drink is like chick crack… fruity, sweet, and full of 92 proof spiced navy rum. I started off with a Jack Rose for myself. By then, they were demanding something different, having happily slurped down round one, so I went with a Flamingo: 1.5 oz white rum, 1.5 oz pineapple juice, .25 oz lime juice, .25 oz grenadine, .25 oz simple syrup. I whipped out the Bully Boy for this one, and with all that juice and sugar, it was a big hit.

From there we had quite a variety, throwing whatever I could think of into the mix. While the femmes had a Paloma (one of the Lady Friend’s tequila cocktails) I had a nice little Old Overholt Whiskey Sour, followed up by an Income Tax, or, Bronx with Bitters. There are cocktails named for all the New York boroughs (the most famous is likely the Manhattan) and the Bronx is a decently easy-going tipple. However, it really picks up some flavors with a couple dashes of bitters, and becomes much more interesting. This version is from Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails:

The Income Tax (Bronx with Bitters)

- 1 1/2 oz gin
- 3/4 oz dry vermouth
- 3/4 oz sweet vermouth
- 1/2 oz fresh-squeezed orange juice
- 2 or 3 dashes of Angostura bitters

Shake/strain/serve. It’s ok on its own, but really nice with the bitters.

From Ted:
“It was the Bronx Cocktail to which the Income Tax merely added a couple dashes of Angostura Bitters. In fact, if you wanted to feel particularly film noir, you’d lean over the dark bar you found yourself in and growl, ‘Bronx with bitters, and make it snappy!’”

Also, be sure to make this one with FRESH-squeezed orange juice. It makes all the difference.


Somewhere in there we ordered a pizza, but I couldn’t tell you at what point. I think Sissy had a Tom Collins, complete with Old Tom gin but the timeline started to get loose. The Lady Friend had made some potato skins, which were doing a wonderful job of soaking up the booze, giving us more mixing playtime. Up next for the sisters were a double Sidecar for Sissy, and a Kamikaze for the Lady Friend. I had her try to guess what it was, but since I rarely use vodka, she couldn’t even pin down the base spirit. It’s essentially a Margarita with vodka switched out for the tequila. At any rate, it was amusing (for me) to watch her guess liquor after liquor trying to figure it out.

As a nightcap, they switched over to a couple of Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPAs that the Lady Friend had purchased earlier, and I finished off with a lovely Negroni, showing Sissy the fun of flaming an orange peel. We chatted about who knows what, though Sissy did share her thoughts about the Squirrel Farts Drink Blog. Apparently she doesn’t necessarily read it, but squealed “I skim for my name… there’s a lot of words in your blog!” making sure to defend herself by noting “I look at the pictures!”

So as long as her name is in here, and there’s pretty pictures to look at, I’ve got another satisfied reader.
Bully.