A Much Better Rusty Nail @ The Coat Room

Bar manager Reid Dougherty could be explaining the tedious fine print of a term life insurance policy and it would still fall poignantly on our ears like a soothing dose of 16th century Romantic poetry. The high-end booze coursing through our veins might factor in, but when this cat muses about the spirits and stories behind craft cocktails, it conjures the enchanting spell we’ve come to associate exclusively with one of Charlottesville’s most elegant and classy spots: The Coat Room.  

Tonight we’re back at this subterranean gem on a double date with new friends. As the night ages, the dialogue is charged with laughter and the perfect dose of filth. Thanks to the tight quarters, it could be TMI for our neighbors. Nothing breaks the ice better than the moment someone drops the first F-bomb, and once that delight is unleashed, we’re a band of drunken sailors no one knows quite what to do with.

Expertly, Dougherty reads the table and glides over to discuss nightcaps. His signature tone and cadence, a tranquil brand of intelligence, reel us in and tame us. We've been quietly anticipating this moment all evening - in no rush at all to conclude the merriment but knowing when we sat down how we would bookend it.

After all, since our last Coat Room experience, we've been crushing hard on A Much Better Rusty Nail.

A Much Better Rusty Nail

1 oz Suntory Toki

1 oz Carpano Antica Vermouth

3/4 oz War & Rust

1/2 oz Drambuie

Lemon peel (expressed and dropped like a mic)

We’ve been educated on the back story and have synthesized some tasting notes, but we sit back and enjoy as Dougherty pulls a Wordsworth and glamours us with poetic dimes of wisdom:  

When we were throwing around ideas for The Coat Room (before it was even that), no idea was "wrong". And one of mine was to showcase some of the terrible cocktails that emerged out of the 60s and 70s. Godfather. Harvey Wallbanger. Grasshopper. The terrible version of the Old Fashioned that Don Draper makes. And yes, the Rusty Nail. Okay, some of them aren't terrible but could certainly use some...tweaking. And this is where the showcasing idea came in. Take those original recipes and make something better but that still respect the origins.

Well out of that not-at-all-wrong idea came A Much Better Rusty Nail. And as promised, there lurks the blended whiskey and the Drambuie of the original. But instead of Scotch, I use the Scotch-like Japanese Suntory Toki, arguably more subtle than most blended Scotches with just a touch of smoke. To that is added Carpano Antica vermouth - a full ounce - which lengthens, smooths out, and adds a nice vanilla note to the drink. Then comes War & Rust, a locally produced quinquina that is a wonderful nod to Barolo Chinato and other aromatized, cinchona bark-infused wines. This slightly bitter elixir balances the sweetness of the drink and adds surprising herbal notes. And lastly comes, of course, the Drambuie. This Scotch-based liqueur has strong honey and spice notes and gives the cocktail a wonderful, warming finish. Stir all that up, strain over a nice big ice cube, and express and drop a lemon peel over the top. The lemon oil hits your nose and helps reveal the flavors of the drink while simultaneously mellowing the sweetness on your palate.

War & Rust is a guilty pleasure we've yet to find on a cocktail menu, so the mere sight of it on Dougherty's list makes it a no-brainer order. He is right on about the bridge this mysterious spirit brings to the flavors in this jam. Like most craft cocktails, its personality changes as it breathes and dilutes. So far we have yet to put a finger on it's essence, which is probably why we keep lustfully coming back to it.   

A Much Better Rusty Nail is not officially labeled an after dinner drink, but we've never busted a cap in a Charlottesville night with a wider smile. On a menu that promises to change with the coming seasons, here's hoping this one sticks around a while. 

Negroni 3.0 @ Oakhart Social

Chalk it up to getting older, but these days we gravitate more toward woodsy, bitter flavors and have retreated from sweet. The gateway to our cocktail enlightenment many years ago - a lush Manhattan - now rides the bench with a few other sweet jams. We're sentimental about our booze fabric - how else to explain the thought we put into writing about it - so we don't take this sea change lightly. 

Thankfully, we've found another gear in our cocktail engine and have put pedal to metal to explore its range. About a year ago, mezcal hitched a ride and became a welcome dark passenger. The sight of it on bar menus these days, often rotated as a base in classics, always grabs our eye. We dig the smoky sting and illicit way it dances with other spirits. How we see it, mezcal draws out the alter ego of a cocktail and injects the play with intrigue and a little danger. It's a set of brass knuckles on a guy wearing pleated khakis.          

One thing that has not changed with age: we are always game for a Negroni. The go-to order sits at the tip of our tongue when we saddle up to any bar. Still, we like to show some respect for the mad science and love a joint’s barman puts into the cocktail list, so we open our minds and always peruse it with genuine anticipation and wonder.

At Oakhart Social, our study is rewarded when skimming eyes find the Negroni 3.0 and light the hell up. 

Negroni 3.0

1 oz Broker’s Gin

1 oz Campari

1 oz Carpano Bianco

Rinse of Los Amantes Mezcal Joven 

As we mentally unpack the list of ingredients, we find some intriguing components. For one, Carpano Bianco vermouth (white cousin to the sultry Antica) skews floral and perfume-y. And Broker’s Gin is heavy on the juniper berry taste, quite peppery. Campari fatigue set in for us long ago (at home we do Cappelletti or Meletti 1870 Bitter), but there's no denying its classic virtues. New to us is the Los Amantes Mezcal Joven. 

Rubbing hands together, we gaze on as Brendan Cartin, Oakhart's beverage brains and brawn, works his craft with the sophisticated grit of a Porsche mechanic. When the fruit of his labor arrives, we lean in and draw a deep breath, catching smoky shades of citrus and violets on the nose. Then we taste, and instantly we're filled with a sense of outlaw lust, absolutely converted. The barbecued (charred) citrus of the mezcal delivers a 'shady character' layer beneath the lovely trifecta of bitter, spicy and floral flavors brought by the 1:1:1 players.

Momentarily we drift to a beach at dusk where, after a long day of surfing and sun worship, we gather with friends around a giant bonfire. Sun-kissed faces smile as a joint goes from one set of pinched fingers to the next. A bottle of aged rum is passed in tandem. The lingering bouquet on the moment is smoke, sunscreen, liquor breath and laughter. It's zen tainted perfectly with traces of vice and bad intention. We open our eyes to see Brendan nodding in our direction, like he knows where we just went.                   

If we're being honest, we're not that floored to encounter such a ballsy beverage here. As far as we're concerned, scrappy is Oakhart's middle name, which is to say, this shit is totally in character.

Brendan doesn't argue that point one bit and suggests that the renegade spirit creates the ideal culture for him. "Creativity with edge is definitely encouraged around here. It's like there's no such thing as a bad idea so long as it's pushing the limits in a smart way."

Pressed for insight on the inspiration for this jam, a mischievous smile spreads slowly across Brendan's face. "I love mezcal and the way it changes the character of a cocktail. There's something naughty about it, but not over-the-top. To me, this is a Negroni on spring break."

Sometimes a bad influence can be a really good thing, so here's to making Negroni Week just a little bit dicey at Oakhart Social.   

Negroni on spring break

Cocktail Jams: Wise Blood

It doesn't take much to lure us to the cozy confines of the C&O bar these days. If you've perused the P+K body of work, maybe you're aware (and slightly suspicious?) of the many cameos made by this bastion. 

What can we say? We know what's good for us, and more often than not, it's down those creaky stairs. 

Recently, stylish barman Dustin Fleetwood conceptualized and executed a lovely newcomer cocktail that we hope finds a permanent home on the C&O menu -- Wise Blood.

1 + 1/2 oz Bulleit Rye

1 oz IPA syrup

1/2 oz Campari

1/4 oz lemon juice

2 dashes Bittermens hopped grapefruit bitters

Shake and strain. Garnish with grapefruit peel. 

It's blasphemy to admit this in a town where so many craft operations thrive, but some of us are not much for beer and generally despise IPA. When we first encounter this drink on the menu, everything except the IPA syrup grips us, so we inquire. Dustin immediately cops to a disdain for IPA and tempers our concerns by breaking down the composition, which his own leery palate guided through several trials.

The syrup ratio is: 4 : 3 (21st Amendment Toaster Pastry IPA : sugar). At medium heat he brings the beer to a simmer, adds the sugar and cooks it down for about 20 min. 

Will imbibes and tells: When it lands before me in a dainty, vintage Nick and Nora glass, I blush a little, for I don't feel quite worthy of soiling such a classy gal with these grimy mitts. Suddenly I'm transported to Paris in the 1920s where I'm a vagrant whose dumb luck lands him the charming and provocative Josephine Baker as a dance partner. At first I'm nothing but left feet, then she guides my cadence with each sip until I'm jigging The Charleston, second nature, momentarily forgetting any plight or sorrow. The whole song and dance inspires escape then gently drops me off at the corner where I shuffle back to the margins and replay it all on a loop. 

Metaphors and time travel aside, on the literal palate, this potion, with its woodsy, smoky-sweet rye base is tamed perfectly by a bitter, citrus shine that finishes with an effervescence of tiny bubbles in your head. The delicate vessel, which feels like a tulip in your hands, is ideal because it encourages sipping and savoring.  

When we ask about the name, we get an appropriately layered response. Dustin was really into this Weyes Blood album, Front Row Seat to Earth, at the time. He found the recipe for beer syrup on a beer forum that he checks for research when ordering for the bar. C&O has a beer cocktail on the menu called Fat Dazzler (IPA, Campari, grapefruit) so the Wise Blood cocktail is essentially an evolution of that. Added cultural inspiration is the Flannery O’Connor novel by the same title. And, of course, the color!

C&O has a habit of pushing quality and complexity that will never get old. The latest iteration of that, and our automatic drink order, is Wise Blood.  

Gateway to Wormwood: Carpano Antica Formula

I'm dangerously devoted to wormwood. Where will this obsession land me? On the side of Route 29 in handcuffs watching a cop drag boxes of obscure booze contraband from my car? At a midnight ATF raid of my home in the sleepy country hollow on the outskirts of town? Will that be enough to dam the river of booze I’ve carried across state lines and relegate me to sipping the rotgut likes of Martini & Rossi the rest of my days? I know too well from a few dodged campus police bullets back in the day that loose lips sink ships. Yet lately I rant in public about my illicit booze runs from Washington, DC to Charlottesville, VA. The way I see it, I’m a smelt hardly worth a roll in batter, let alone a plunge into that glorious hot oil. There are bigger fish to fry, so surely the authorities can’t be bothered by someone's elitist taste in vermouth. So I reload every couple of weeks when back in DC for business and act out this fantasy of being an old-timey bootlegger because, for better or worse, drinking these spirits has become a passion play. 

Where did it begin? Not pointing any fingers, but I can trace it cleanly back to the hands of my friend and favorite cocktail pioneer, Jeff Faile. In the early days of a sterling career on the stick - Jeff is now beverage director for two of the top spots in DC, Pineapple & Pearls and Rose’s Luxury - his signature Manhattan at (recently shuttered) Palena has to be included in the rising tide of quality booze that elevated DC’s taste for legit cocktails. It was early 2011, winter, when I first saddled up to his bar. I was so impressionable, winging everything, including my drinking ethos, looking for the bottom rung of any sophisticated ladder to grab. Words like curate and craft were just beginning to elbow their way to the table. I was a little skeptical but knew it was time to grow up, to graduate from Jack and Coke.

That first sip changed everything - the lush, smoked cherry cola and vanilla layers of the Carpano Antica Formula vermouth seduced me with a strip-tease that sparked pleasure so rich that I welcomed, practically begged for, the sting of whiskey to cut it. The garnish of bar-made boozy cherries, Jeff’s trademark back then, so dark and sweet, rounded out an experience that frankly felt carnal. When I snapped out of the trance I felt a blush wash over my face, as if I’d just engaged in some lewd act of public indecency. I was a new vampire and here was my first taste of fresh blood.  

Eventually it made all the sense in the world for my Carpano consumption to pull a Beyoncé and go solo. With layers of character and a parade of flavors that leave me guessing as to what’s next, it no longer needed the flank of brown liquor and bitters to elevate its stardom. This epiphany would turn out to be my exercise in moderation. Cocktails have always been my jam, but mixologists these days are slinging drinks so kind on the palate that I find my thoughts fogged and my words slurred way too early in the night from throwing them back with ease. (Related: self control is not my jam.) Maybe it was how I swayed in the stool or the tinge of trouble in my eyes that Jeff noticed. Either way, when he set this drink before me one night, it added a charming wrinkle to my cocktail playbook that I embrace today:  

Carpano Antica + Soda

2 ounces Carpano Antica Formula
4 ounces sparkling water
1 orange (or lemon) peel

Pour Carpano, then sparkling water over rocks.  Drag the peel along the rim before giving it a gentle squeeze over the booze then drop it in. 

Here’s the rub - which begs the question of why I’d write an ode to this 'nectar of the gods' in the first place - I have yet to find it at a retailer in Charlottesville. With fall and winter around the corner, my favorite seasons for sipping rich dark vermouth, it seems another mule run is in the cards. I'm fine with this because I miss the endearing gruff personalities of my favorite DC liquor store clerks at Ace Beverage and Schneider’s. With an arm’s-length dose of helpful charm, they’ll walk the aisles dispensing shots of knowledge about classic liquors and indie small-batch brands along with anecdotal gems that make you feel like a booze insider. This complexity of character mirrors the very spirits they sell you. Meanwhile, a trip to any local ABC brings all the nuance and luster of an errand to the DMV. I hear some ABC stores will special-order liquor for you, so I'll look into that and report back. And it's definitely worth mention that Greenwood Gourmet in Crozet offers a fantastic vermouth selection, including Cocchi di Torino, a lovely colleague of Carpano that will do in a pinch.        

But wait, there is hope. I've found it at select watering holes in Charlottesville such as C&O,  Oakhart Social, Lampo and Alley Light, to name a few. You can reasonably judge the caliber and class of a bar by its vermouth game. If you spot Carpano Antica on the cocktail list or see it on the top rail behind the bar, breathe easy and imbibe away. (At the very least they should have Dolin, a lower grade yet very solid vermouth.) If you have a drop of taste or pride and the only vermouth in the house is Martini & Rossi, you should bounce immediately. This is all regardless of whether you drink it. I'm just saying that's your litmus test. 

To those who know their way around a sophisticated cocktail list, I'm not breaking booze news here. Carpano Antica has been holding court on the scene for a stretch of several years now. For me it's the original gangster in a long line of wormwood players that have happily cluttered my home bar. It's my first vermouth love, hence a fitting genesis for this series.

Tasting Notes:  Before you taste, take a deep whiff of this gem and you'll get dreamy hints of root beer and vanilla on the nose. On the palate. I find an initial bold wave of vanilla and dried citrus fruit that gives way to a second act of cherry cola and cloves and finishes with a pleasant herbal sting that is rounded out with a hint of toffee.

Cheers!