Beefsteak Bacchanalia at the Fat Bear

So here's a question: When an email pops up in your inbox offering infinite steaks at a beefsteak bacchanalia, what is the correct response?  Well, obviously, book yourself a spot at The Fat Bear's beefsteak bacchanalia event - which generates you the amusingly entitled ticket typer "Mountains of Beef".  Sounds like my sort of thing.

The Fat Bear is situated in the upstairs rooms of The Rising Sun pub, an ale house in the quite backstreets just a couple of minutes stroll from the hustle and bustle of St Paul's Cathedral.  We've been in before, actually - way back, before it was the Fat Bear, GrubsterGirl and I visited when the upstairs rooms were B.O.B.'s Lobster's pop-up.  Pretty much since then, however, the Fat Bear has been in residence, moving from a pop-up to more of an established restaurant in its own right.

First up, there's a fully stocked bar - with, in the far left of the picture, the largest section cocktail bitters I have ever seen.  There's clearly a great deal of passion, commitment and professionalism behind the mixology here.  From the house creations to the classics, the drinks at the Fat bear are excellent.

GrubsterGirl started with the self-styled "Really Bloody Good Martini@ - served wet, which effectively means a larger measure of vermouth than usual.  This was delicious, a complete revelation - the use of Cocchi Americano (a more authentic substitute for Kina Lillet in a Vesper, if you're interested) was fantastic and really changed the drink.  Thinking back, actually, to Dry Martini in Barcelona, their historic martini recipe used half-and-half gin and vermouth.  Whilst I would't go that far (and they haven't here) I can certainly see why a larger measure of vermouth can, in the right context, work pretty bloody well.

I had a Problem Solved, a combination of rye whiskey and cherry Heering.  I do love a good whiskey cocktail, and this was no exception.  Complex and family sophisticated - my only note is that it might have been better at the end of the meal, being a bit sweeter.  But excellent generally.

Round 2 (when did we ever limit ourselves to one) for GrubsterGirl was the 1934 Cosmopolitan.  Using a more traditional array of ingredients, this was seriously good.  A great twist on a classic.

It is also quite possibly the prettiest drink I've ever seen.

I'm going through a bit of a Negroni phase at the moment, so thought I'd see if they could knock one up for me - which was done to great aplomb.  The barman's personal house blend of red vermouth - a combination of Martini Rossi and Carpano Antica - it makes a brilliant drink.  I was also advised to have it straight up, rather than over ice, on the basis that it would avoid dilution and that further flavours would come out over time.

Then onto the food.  The event was held around large, communal tables, which is always fun.

On the tables were pots of quick, mixed pickles - all of which I expect had been made the same day, so were beautifully fresh and crisp, and mixed in a sweet vinegar brine.  Perfect as a palate cleanser.

Also available was a bone marrow whipped butter.  No two ways about it, this was incredible.

Then the meat started coming out.  And it didn't stop.

Smoked brisket with a devilled gravy on toast.  Deeply, deeply smokey - but avoiding the over-sweatness that most brisket is dredged in.

Pulled brisket in BBQ sauce.  Perfectly done, the meat was still moist and had been cooked to perfect tenderness.  The sauce was good as well - classically BBQ, but not too sticky or cloying.

The star of the show, in our view: Korean-marinated onglet with a Korean inspired dipping sauce.  This was a proper steak.  Cooked rare - very rare in some cases - which was smashing, and it was wonderfully tender and tasty.  The marinade also shone through and perfectly set-off the beef.

Hot link sausages.  Perhaps slightly more chorizo-esque than I would have expected, they were nevertheless great.

And then...

...round two.  Seriously, that lot wasn't enough between two?  Fine, here's the next batch.  We were pretty much driven to a standstill by now, but bravely had a good stab at our next round.  I have no idea if it would have kept coming, but I expect it would have.  You need to be pretty hungry...!

After a lot of food, though, there really is only one cure: more cocktails.  I had a classic old fashioned, made with Buffalo Trace, that was expertly put together.

Whereas GrubsterGirl had another house cocktail, the Pendennis.  This was a gin, lime and apricot liqueur concoction that was good - if perhaps not as good as the very excellent 1934 Cosmo GG had enjoyed earlier.

And with the bill?  Well, just to finish off: a quick round of classic pricklebacks - a shot of bourbon chased immediately by a shot of sweet pickling liquor.  Perfect ending to such a heavy meal.

The City of London Distillery

Tucked away down a little alley off Fleet Street is the City of London's first gin distillery since to be opened since the last one shut up shop in 1825.

Now, the last time I went to The City of London Distillery, or "C.O.L.D." as they like to brand it, was some time ago and before it changed hands.  Back then it basically ran a fantastic concept of re-imagining the venerable gin and tonic: Umpteen different gins, as many matching tonics (yes, actually – multiple different iterations of a drink I had previously believed to come only in one, Schweppes-esque form) and varying garnishes – each G&T served either English style (highball) or Spanish style (big, balloon-like wine glass).  It worked really well – and gave you the opportunity to try a drink we all know like the back of our hand in a new format.

Since then the bar has been acquired, taken over and revamped.  I was expecting big changes.

Fortunately, there were few to be seen – the bar space is exactly the same as it was before, dark and cozy, low ceilinged but spacious, full of comfortable sofas and leather wingbacks, as well as a few more conventional tables.

The bar still stocks its mind blowing array of gins.

And in the corner are the two wonderful stills, there waiting to brew up the next batch of The City of London Distillery's award winning gin.

But the bar list, sadly, has changed.  Gone are the G&T creations, and in have come the cocktails.  Now, I love a good cocktail, but I loved the concept of the old joint even more – it was unique, special.  It seemed entirely right that the only gin distillery in the City should be encouraging its patrons to drink gins with tonic in a new and exciting way.  My worry was that the new management had simply swapped out the imagination of the old menu with a lazy cocktail menu serving solely their own brew.

I need not have worried.  Sure, it's a cocktail menu.  And sure, every single drink is punctuated by The City of London Distillery's own gins.  But none of that is a problem if you absolutely nail it.  Which I'm glad to say they have.

My friend, Ravi, kicked off proceedings with a COLD Distiller's Martini.  A very sound choice, I think there are few better ways of taste-testing a gin than drinking it as a martini, so uncompromising is it as a drink, with nowhere for the gin to hide.

The City of London Distillery's version contained a dash of bitters (I approve, for the avoidance of doubt) and was very dry (again, good) whilst still being light – as Ravi put it: "you feel like you could drink a lot more of them" (again, definitely, good – albeit risky).  A solid start from COLD.

Given Ravi's purist start, I had to explore a similar vein - a Martinez.  If you've not heard of the Martinez I wouldn’t let that bother you, it's not that well renown despite the resurgence of classic cocktails.  It's said to be the predecessor to the martini, although it's a lot more complex, first appearing in popular vernacular sometime between 1860 and 1880 and said to be the 'missing link' between sweet cocktails (e.g. the old fashioned, the Manhattan) and dry cocktails (e.g. the martini). It absolutely demands the sweeter notes of Old Tom gin – or even traditional genever (the Dutch predecessor of the gin we know and love) if you can get it - and is to be mixed with the red martini, not the drier white.

COLD's version combines two red vermouths – Cocchi's Vermoutb di Torino (red berries, menthol, herbs and spices) and Punt e Mes (bitter, quinine), as well as maraschino liqueur and bitters.  The effect was a slightly medicinal taste, albeit refreshing - although I can see why, at least as a pre-prandial – the martini outlived the Martinez.

Round two: Ravi went for the Sunflower – a cocktail I believe created by Sam Ross, mixologist at New York's Milk & Honey, Little Branch.

It's a curious mix – London dry gin (although ross originally uses Plymouth, I expect there's not too much to choose between them), lemon, St Germain (elderflower liqueur), Cointreau, absinthe.  Not a list of ingredients I would usually jump at, it was nevertheless marvellous.  A real zinger, both sharp and sweet, it was almost sherbet like, as if it were effervescent without actually having a single bubble in it.

My final drink was the COLD Fashioned.  Those who know me know I will always, whenever I can get my hands on one, order up an old fashioned.  I just love the things.  So I couldn’t really pass this up, being a mix of London dry gin, whiskey syrup (good innovation there, I like it), Angostura and house bitters and cucumber.

This was amazing.  I loved it.  It was hardly like an old fashioned at all (except the whiskey syrup did peek through) but was nevertheless fantastic.  It was strong but palatable, with the cucumber roaring through and complimenting the gin perfectly.  My only slight criticism is that it veered towards being too sweet – a slice of lemon might have balanced it more perfectly.  Otherwise, top marks.

 - GrubsterBoy -

Dry Martini, Barcelona, Spain

Dry Martini is a funny name for a cocktail bar, I reckon.  This is mostly because it's not really the name of a cocktail bar, it's the name of a drink.  And not just any old drink, quite possibly the most famous cocktail of all time.  If you're going to name yourself after the world's most renowned drink, you'd better be damn sure you know how to make a good one.

Fortunately, for Dry Martini, they do.  Oh, they do.

Dry Martini bills itself as a bit of a speakeasy joint.  Before that sends you running for the hills – and who wouldn’t, given just how many 'speakeasy' abomination bars there are out there, especially in the trendy zones, like Greenwich Village in NYC or Hoxton in London – I can safely say it's not like your average speakeasy.  Largely because, however much you want it to be like a speakeasy, it just isn’t.  Oh no, this is the Gentlemen's Club style of bar, and it pulls it off with aplomb.  Oak panelling covers every surface, the bar is shrouded in perfect white, starched linens, the floors are marble, the lighting is low, and every singly instrument used by the staff to mix, stir or shake your drink is solid silver.

By the way, you see that digital counter there?  That's a live counter of every dry martini they've ever served.  Wish I'd been there for number 1,000,000.

But faffing aside, we were here for one thing: a dry martini.

Mixed with Bombay Sapphire as standard (although you're welcome to ask for something different if you'd like) and the tiniest dash of French vermouth, it is then stirred – not shaken, which dilutes the drink something rotten – before being strained into glasses fresh out of the freezer.  Then there's a spritz of lemon peel (but not the peel itself) and a salty green olive gets popped in there.

Is it any good?  Yes.  It's bloody marvellous.

(This was martini number 1,044,562, by the way.)

There is no menu, which is a bit of a pain, but then I reckon – genuinely – that you could call out the name of any cocktail – certainly the name of any of the classics – and they'd know how to make it for you.  And I say that because, for our next round, we decided to test them. GrubsterGirl ordered up her soft-spot drink, a margarita, whilst I opted for a Vesper – a personal favourite of mine.  The Vesper was perfectly executed – especially with the inclusion of Cocci Americano, a slightly more herbal and bitter vermouth more reminiscent of the Kina Lillet Ian Fleming intended, rather than the modern Lillet Blanc.

Vesper Martini (Handmade Cocktail Company)

Most kids dream of finding Scaletrix cars or G.I. Joe in their Christmas stockings.  I dream of getting bottles of ready-mixed cocktails.  Luckily, this year, my dream came true.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Vesper, courtesy of the Handmade Cocktail Company.

If you're going to be thoroughly cynical (something I am wont to be) it's effectively nothing more than a bottle of gin, vodka and vermouth mixed together, bottled and shipped out to those gullible few who ardently believe that the whole is greater than sum of the parts – and who are happy to pay a premium for that whole.  If you're being cynical.

The problem with that analysis is that the cynic really is wrong here.  Sorry, just plain wrong.  Because this is truly lovely stuff.

The Handmade Cocktail Company's Vesper is one of the best I've had – genuinely.  With great ease and simplicity, I could be back in Christopher's – or any other high end cocktail bar for that matter – sipping at what is, without a doubt, a fantastic martini.  The ease and simplicity are factors I can't, in all honesty, ignore: all you have to do is fill a pitcher with ice, add an overly generous glug of liquor, stir (or shake, if you want to go really OO7), and pour.  Add a twist if you're feeling up the task (oh the strain!) or an olive or two if you're feeling rambunctious.

If you've watched the film (or, better still, read the book – it's the first and the best) of Casino Royale you'll know how the drink came into being.  Bond turns to a waiter and orders thus:

"Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?"

Brought alive in the fantastic film adaptation…

The Vesper is therefore unique in being neither a gin martini (or just 'a martini', as I’d have it if I had my way) nor a vodka martini – it's made from both.  Here they offset each other nicely – the gin shines through, but is not overpowering; the vodka gives it that slight oily texture that (in this context) works.  From its colour, I’d say that there's plenty of vermouth in there, but fear not: this is still a dry martini, without a doubt.

I've no idea what the gin or vodka – or the vermouth, for that matter – are.  And I'm not sure I care.  Bond is quite specific, true, but mixing a modern day Vesper is impossible: Gordon's is much weaker than it was (although pick up a bottle in Duty Free next time you're wandering through the terminal – Gordon's Export Strength is reputedly what it used to be), whilst Kina Lillet has ceased to exist.  There's a lot of stuff out there on the internet saying use Lillet Blanc, Kina's supposed predecessor, but be warned: close research suggests that it's actually very different.  The point of this?  Well, I guess it doesn’t much matter anymore whether the authentic ingredients are used, all that matters is this: what the Handmade Cocktail Company have put together is magic.

The Vesper – and all Handmade Cocktail Company products - is available through Master of Malt  (who appear to be the guys who also run the Times Whiskey Club – there are just too many similarities).  It seems pretty hard to get hold of elsewhere, so I'd start there if you're keen.

I'm a total convert to the Handmade Cocktail Company and its range of drinks.  I am chomping at the bit to try their Old Fashioned – will keep you all in the loop when I do.

Until then, get yourself a bottle of Vesper.  Stir over ice and serve straight up with a twist of lemon peel.  Sit back and enjoy, Mr Bond.

- GrubsterBoy -