Cocktail countdown to Halloween-Bloody Brain Shooters
Channel your inner mad scientist with this Bloody Brain Shooter. Add chilled vodka and lime juice to a shot glass, then use a straw to drip Irish cream into the glass. The acidic lime juice will cause the Irish cream to curdle, creating realistic strands of “brain.”
Ingredients:
1 1/4 oz. strawberry vodka such as Stoli
1/8 oz. Rose’s lime juice
3/4 oz. Bailey’s Irish Cream
Splash of grenadinePreparation:
Chill vodka for better smoothness. Add vodka and lime juice to a shaker, shake and strain into a shot glass. Using a straw, dip some Bailey’s Irish Cream into the shot. Once you submerge the straw into the Bailey’s put your finger on top of the straw to hold the Bailey’s in the straw. Dip the straw tip into the vodka and slowly release your top finger. The Bailey’s will curdle a little bit due to the lime juice and you should be able to make strands of Bailey’s.
Repeat the straw/Bailey’s process to build a “brain” in the shot glass. Add a splash of grenadine to the concoction to add the ‘blood’ to the mix. Down the hatch as a shot.
Recipe courtesy Dan Goss, Downtown Grill and Brewery, Knoxville, Tenn.
kapi:
Today is the 250th birthday of the lovely and refreshing Irish stout called Guinness that we have come to love and enjoy.
In order to celebrate this milestone, I give to you the following factoid
Poured at an angle of 45 degrees, it takes 119.5 seconds for the perfect pint of Guinness to settle.So, wherever in the world you are, go out to your local boozer and have a pint for Arthur Guinness today.
(Photo via Dan)
The perfect summertime meal. It doesn’t get any better than this*
Clockwise from top left: Fat Tire Amber Ale; fresh picked lettuce; homemade grass-fed goat cheese jucy lucy; Boulder Canyon malt vinegar & sea salt kettle chips; homemade dill pickles from last years harvest; rainbow chard & kale from the CSA; a little more Fat Tire.
*Unless followed by a Virgil’s Rootbeer float (which I actually had prior to this meal).
Beer Appreciation for the Non-Beer Drinker 
How did I miss this last week!? Thanks again for the flight Jim. Next on our travel plans, an introduction to whisky?
(via heavytable)
London Beer Flood claims 9 lives.
Similar to the Great Molasses Flood in Boston, on October 17th 1814 in St. Giles Parish, London, a huge vat of beer ruptured causing the failure of numerous other vats. The beer explosion sent over 323,000 gallons of beer rushing through the streets. The London Beer Flood destroyed two homes and a pub, and killed 9 people - 8 from drowning and 1 from alcohol poisoning.
You wanted local craft beer at the new Twins stadium?
Hmm. Not sure if they’re listening. This doesn’t look terribly promising. Nothing says “ultimate Minnesota outdoor experience” like… uh… Budweiser?! Maybe not…
Truly unfortunate. It would have been nice to see a local brew get some attention, but I would rather there be no sign at all. As a small market team, I understand that isn’t an option, but it would be nice if an advertiser would understand that sometimes not putting up a sign can be more effective than in-your-face advertising.
Disappointment on the 27th floor
I’ve been wanting to try out the somewhat recently opened Prohibition Lounge for some time and finally got a chance this weekend as part of the celebration of Erin’s graduation. The Prohibition Lounge is located on the 27th floor of the newly renovated Foshay Tower, and occupies what once was Wilbur Foshay’s office and boardroom. I had imagined being thrust back to 1929, relaxing in a classy cigar lounge atmosphere listening to the sounds of Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong and the like while sipping a scotch on the rocks. From the moment I stepped foot into the W Hotel lobby, music blaring, bright pink neon lights, and drunken suburbanites grinding in defiance to the rhythm of the music, I knew something might be amiss.
Walking back towards the glowing pink reception desk, we spotted the elevators and made our way there. The small and lavish interior combined with the persistent squeaking of the elevator began to restore my faith that perhaps the trashiness of the ground floor would transform to class as our car rose towards the stars.
The elevator doors parted and we stepped into a space in constant conflict between an elegant past and a present completely lacking in good taste. No matter how much the gorgeous interior tried to shine through, the atmosphere of pleather couches, pink neon light, and horrendous dance music masked any beauty you might find. Young drunken business men stumbled from room to room with what I can only assume were high priced call girls in tow. The wait staff, with fingers on the rim of martinis and thumbs in your water, served with uncomforting enthusiasm and moved and danced around the space in a manner that suggested they had either been coached incessantly or had been doing lines in a back room.
No element of the space made any successful attempt to highlight or strengthen the underlying theme or era of the original space. The only attempt at this were the black cocktail dresses the wait staff wore which, unfortunately, were executed without any level of class. The dresses were worn so small they were constantly being tugged at to stay in place, though when they came to your seating area, the servers were sure to squat in front of you, hoping that a glimpse of underwear might increase their tip. In the end, it felt more like a strip club without dancers than a dignified lounge.
The entire space was a travesty, completely uninspired, and existing in complete disrespect to the magnificent building in which it unjustly sits.
More on the Foshay, and simple thoughts on another W property.
