Bottom Shelf Booze

I always appreciate Will Gordon's Drinking the Bottom Shelf column. Not only is it handy because, despite what I try to tell myself, I can't always afford the top shelf stuff, but he's also a wonderfully funny writer. It seriously brightens up my day to see his take on things like Blue Moon Winter Abbey Ale. "We can admit that regular Blue Moon doesn't suck. Neither does the Winter Abbey Ale, but it comes close." So it was with joy I saw he had commented on my favorite bottom shelf brew, Grain Belt.

I will be very pleasantly surprised if I come across a finer CARL [Cheap American Regional Lager] than this Minnesotan beauty. It doesn't smell like much of anything, which is a good quality in a cheap yellow beer, but it sits pretty thick on the tongue for its kind. What really sets Grain Belt apart is its kinky and unique caramel cream flavor. I can totally see Prince pouring this on his loved ones. I'm going to Minnesota.

I have fond memories of living with Steve back in my graduate school days. It was only a few months, but somehow it felt longer. At one point, he went on a road trip to Missoula, and he came back with a case of Grain Belt. It's not available in Indiana, or anywhere else I've lived, so I've not had it since. But it had a unique flavor like nothing else I'd ever had. Somehow, it tasted gritty. The texture wasn't actually gritty, it was fully liquid, but somehow it tasted like it should be gritty. (For some reason, my wife doesn't think this is a recommendation.) So next time I'm in Minnesota, I'm definitely making mine a Grain Belt.

The Mr. Potato Head theory of cocktails

Photo by tps125 on flickr

As much as I love the negroni or the manhattan, sometimes you want to try something new. But you don't always want to start from scratch, throwing random things into a glass in the hope it will taste good (or like apples). So one of the ways you can get a new cocktail is by modifying the old; this is the Mr. Potato Head theory of cocktails. Don't like that nose? Replace it with a different one. Don't feel like vermouth? Replace it with amaro. I do this often, and Serious Eats talks about it in a recent post.

Imagine a Mr. Potato Head toy. He might start out with red shoes, a black mustache, a black hat. But maybe you get tired of that version. No worries! You can swap out the black hat for a pink one. Keep going! Try it with a blue hat. And once you try the blue hat, you might want to put in some blue shoes, too. Looks pretty sharp. 

In cocktails, the building blocks aren't noses or shoes or mustaches—they're ingredients. To break out of your cocktail rut, just start with a classic drink and try swapping out one element at a time. It's not a new idea (and it certainly predates our friend Mr. Potato Head)—these simple variations and substitutions go back as long as the history of cocktails.

Maggie's article mostly suggests switching out the base liquor; try swapping brandy for gin, for example. More often I like to swap out one of the minor ingredients. For example, I like to put Cointreau in my manhattans. (I know, this makes me a bad person). But sometimes I want something a bit richer, so I'll swap Averna for the Cointreau. Alternatively, I'll swap the vermouth for Cardamaro. This is an excellent way to make your personal cocktail list a bit longer.