What’s Tony Drinking? Bourbon, Bemelmans, Bloody & More

Tasting Rare Knob Creek Bourbon On Zoom? Noe Problem!

Having recovered from a case of Covid that had left my senses scrambled and my liquor tasting unpleasant, I got back on the boozy horse with a vengeance. Throughout my illness and its aftermath, I’d been using Knob Creek Manhattans (a 2:1 mix of their rye and bourbon) as a test of sorts to see how far my taste buds were off-base. Knob Creek has been one of my go-to whiskeys for, oh, 25 years now, and the rye since its introduction a decade or so ago, so I know exactly what that particular drink is supposed to taste like. It was a happy coincidence that, just as my senses returned to normal, I had a Knob Creek tasting scheduled with the man behind the brand, Jim Beam master distiller Fred Noe.

Fred is one of my favorite people in the booze biz, and getting together with him, even via Zoom, to sip a little of his whiskey is always a pleasure. We tasted through Knob Creek bourbons aged between 5-15 years — the 5 is younger than anything bottled under the KC name, and while it’s a little rough around the edges, it’s a bourbon the vast majority of distilleries would be proud to bottle. Fred and I agreed that the flagship 9-year-old expression hits the sweet spot, but the 12 and (limited edition) 15-year-old do have their charms as drier, moderately oaky sippers that won’t leave you pulling splinters out of your tongue. Fred had a kidney transplant last year, and the fact that he was able to sip along with me (in moderation, of course) was nothing short of miraculous. Here’s hoping he goes on forever — along with his whiskey.

Old School NYC Cocktails

My best friend and I never need an excuse to go out for quality eats and drinks, but we decided that the anniversary of the day we met was an occasion auspicious enough to require something even classier than usual. Said friend had never been to Bemelmans Bar in the Carlyle Hotel before, so we decided to start out there and see where the evening took us. Bemelmans is nothing short of magical — a dark, windowless sanctuary featuring live jazz piano and walls festooned with original murals painted in 1947 by Ludwig Bemelmans, author of the seminal Madeline children’s books. In fact, it’s the only public space in which Bemelmans’ work can be seen, weirdly enough. But hey, great art and great cocktails go hand in hand, at least in this case.

It’s worth going to Bemelmans at least once even if all you’re getting is a Shirley Temple (in fact, their Shirley Temple is my daughter’s favorite). But their martinis are, without question, among the best in New York, which is to say the best in the world. I got mine with Plymouth Gin, which makes for a soft, gentle caress of a drink. And that’s important, because Bemelmans’ martinis are large and potent, served with the overflow in a small decanter on ice right beside the cocktail glass. Perfect for easy refilling. My pal Perry got a Vesper, which I don’t normally think to order, but the gin-vodka-Lillet combo was perfectly executed based on the sip I stole. I was tipsy enough by the time I’d drained my ‘tini to pay my respects to Hockey Hall of Famer Mark Messier, who happened to be sitting next to us. I’m not a hockey fan — Messier is one of maybe three hockey players I could recognize out of uniform — but hey, he led the Rangers to their only Stanley Cup in the last 80 years, and that’s a pretty big deal. At the time, in 1994, a lot of people were saying that Mess would never have to pay for a drink in New York again. I should have asked him if that was true.

Red Snappers At The King Cole Bar

Perry and I were still upright and the night was still young, so we hiked down a mile south, to St. Regis and its famed King Cole Bar. We ordered a pair of Red Snappers — the bar’s name for the Bloody Mary, which was said to have been invented there in 1934. I rarely think of ordering Bloodies — er, Snappers — when I’m out drinking, but the ones here were tasty and potent, and while we nursed them, Perry and I got to ogle the famed mural behind the bar, the meaning of which we won’t tell you because that would spoil the fun, should you ever decide to go there. The atmosphere wasn’t quite Bemelmans level, but it’s a class joint in its own right, and certainly worth a visit. Our night of drinking ended here, by the way. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s those evenings that begin with a martini at Bemelmans invariably end early. No regrets, but next time, we finish up there rather than starting out there.

Drink Tony’s Booze: The Musical (Minus The Music)

I’m far from unique in my line of work, but I do, by any measure, have a lot of booze. A LOT of booze. More, I suspect, than my wife and I could consume in a lifetime, even if I retired tomorrow and devoted myself to all-day drinking for the duration. So I invited a few friends over to help me drink some of the best of it. And these friends just happened to be some of the brightest lights in the glittering world we call Drinks. In my home was Tommy Tardie, owner of two of NYC’s finest whisk(e)y bars, The Flatiron Room and Fine & Rare, as well as the creator of The Morning Dram coffee, which you really need to check out, like, yesterday; ms. Franky Marshall, renowned bartender/spirits educator/consultant, acknowledged cognac and Pineau des Charentes expert, and one of the coolest dressers I know; Frank Caiafa, bartender/consultant, James Beard nominee and author of The Waldorf Astoria Bar Book; Elayne Duff, longtime mixologist, drinks educator and brand ambassador guru; and her husband Philip Duff, a What’s Tony Drinking? regular who, in addition to getting me tipsy on a frequent basis, is also a longtime bartender, former bar owner, world traveler, bon vivant, and of course creator of Old Duff Genever. Not a bad crowd, right?

With such an all-star assemblage, I had to bring my boozy A-game, and you can bet it was brung. I laid out a few dozen bottles on my dining table and told the gang, have at it. And have at it we did. Michter’s 20 AND 25 year old bourbon. WhistlePig’s Boss Hog VIII rye, finished in aged rum casks from the Philippines. Bushmills’ 28 year old Irish whiskey finished in cognac casks. Delamain’s Vesper XO cognac. Sunday’s Finest’s Gold Fashioned, a bottled Old Fashioned retailing at a cool $150 for a 750 ml bottle, for reasons none of us could quite fathom (it’s good, don’t get me wrong, but for $150 I’ll come to your home and make one for you that’s just as good). The Last Drop’s “Tom’s Blend” , a bespoke blended Scotch created for spirits legend/Last Drop founder Tom Jago. No cocktails, no mixers, not even any ice, except for the Old Fashioned. Just Glencairn glasses, booze, a decent amount of food and water, and — thankfully — six strong and determined livers.

The big hit of the evening was something, to be honest, I wasn’t even sure we should be drinking. It was 100 month old (that’s 8 years and change, if you’re wondering) Jim Beam bourbon, bottled in 1964-65, so it was distilled right around the 1956 presidential election. Thing is, it was housed in a decorative porcelain decanter that may or may not have a lead glaze. I asked Beam’s Fred Noe about it during our Knob Creek tasting and he said, “Hell, you might as well drink it,” so I took it as an indicator that we (probably) wouldn’t all come down with lead poisoning. We cracked it open, and I don’t think any of us regretted it. Rich and sweet and mouth-coating, heavy on the caramel and orange… I wish I could hop in a time machine and pick up a few more bottles.

How do you finish off an evening of such liquid magnificence? With martinis made with a mid-‘60s bottle of Beefeater Gin, of course, expertly whipped up by Frank Caiafa. It was the only mixological excursion of the night, and it sent everyone home happy after five-plus hours of solid imbibing. I think even we, hardened professionals all, were impressed with our own stamina and fortitude. And the hangover the next morning? Freakin’ exquisite.