Wintry Mix
Welcome to Planuary 2025, Where You Get a Visit From Newsletter Posts Past, Present and Future.
New York experienced its first White Christmas since 2009 this year. There was an inch or so of snow on the ground Dec. 21 and then another inch in the early morning of Christmas Eve. This was enough to put we at The Mix in the proper yuletide spirit.
The snowfall was all the more welcome in that we were actually in New York! We are in the city for the holidays only about fifty percent of the time. The balance of the time we are in Wisconsin (where we go not only to see family but also snow).
It was an intimate, homey holiday this year, spent just with our sons. We dined on a from-scratch bill of fare of lasagna (Christmas Eve; made by me) and Prime Rib (Christmas Day; Mary Kate) and Christmas cookies (all days; both of us).
Of all the gifts I received, my favorite was a set of Audrey Saunders-designed Sour glasses (seen above). I quickly put them to use making a batch of delicious New York Sours.
This is not to say we lacked for social activity. It was a season stacked with holiday parties, more than in any New York December I can remember. The shindigs stretched from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve. Perhaps in reaction to the fraught drama of fall—still all too close in the rear-view mirror—people felt the urgent need to rip it up while the ripping was still good.
There’s nothing like an unending string of festive get-togethers to instill you with a sense of community. Friendly faces—many of them longtime subscribers of The Mix—were found at every stop on the party train. Some folks, obviously having bought a monthly pass to that train, were encountered more than once, always in the bar car.
If there was one thing that tied all the soirees together, it was vintage cocktails. Hosts broke out not only the good stuff, but the old stuff. I’ve already detailed in this space the vintage Negronis and Beefeater 47% Martinis we doled out at our bash. Our friends John (a Bar Regular) and Jeannie possess even more vintage booze than I. Old bottles of Dewar’s White Label, Martini & Rossi vermouth, Campari and Benedictine were rolled out. They ended up doing duty in vintage Rob Roys, Bobby Burns, and Boulevardiers. We also finished off the last of one of the first bottles of Del Maguey mezcal’s Chichicapa expression.
At a post-Christmas party hosted by boozer scribe Tony Sachs and booze maker Philip Duff (both Mix subscribers), an old bottle of Canadian Club was placed in service of some vintage Manhattans.
I was asked by several people if those cocktails were indeed Manhattans, since they had a base of Canadian whiskey. Historically, speaking, yes, they were. In the post-WWII years in the United States, Canadian Club was considered—rightly or wrongly—rye whiskey by the masses. If Don Draper ordered a Manhattan, he would have likely gotten one made with Canadian Club.
Dirty Martini Marathon
A flurry of my free-lance work was published just days before Christmas. One, for Grub Street, was about the continued rise of the Dirty Martini, in all the drink’s infinite variety. It was the result of weeks of “research”—as we call it in my line of work—that took me to some of the newer bars in Gotham.
I suppose I got the idea for the story while dining at The Corner Store, the hot spot in SoHo that feeds polished comfort food to the young and well-heeled in Keith-McNally-esque-retro-bistro glory. They take their Martinis so seriously there that there is a Martini menu separate from the cocktail menu. The thing is, four of the seven Martinis on the list are dirty in one way or another. The other three are a Vesper, Espresso Martini and a Tuxedo No. 2, leaving the plain old dry gin Martini very much out in the cold.
Moreover, the “Martini Service,” which furnishes the table to two kinds of Martinis, is ALL dirty.
It all gave new meaning to the comment of fictional columnist J.J. Hunsecker in classic film The Sweet Smell of Success: “I love this dirty town!”
When I brought the idea of a Dirty Martini survey to my editor at Grub Street, he was sold, having seen that two new joints, Smithereens and Time and Tide, were selling a Seaweed Martini and a Filthy Martini, respectively. Go forth, he said, and wade into the brine, and report back.
Smithereens is in the East Village. It’s a subterranean restaurant that feels like a bar that happens to serve food. The menu’s focus is New England flavors, and there’s a lot of seafood on offer. There’s a little New England in the cocktail menu, too, what with the Cape Codder and an original bourbon-squash-coffee mixture called Ben Affleck.
The Seaweed Martini looked a murky as sea water, and was made with a gin made from Adriatic seawater, tea and a “Seaweed Eau de Vie.” Mary Kate was incredulous that I liked it as much as I did. But I don’t look for a good Martini when sampling Dirty Martinis. They are a completely different breeds of drink, in my opinion, the Dirty Martini being closer to a Bloody Mary than a Martini. I just look for something interesting, balanced and savory in a good way.
The bartender, Logan Rodriguez, said he had been inspired by the MSG Martini at Bonnie’s, a trendy Chinese restaurant in Williamsburg. So it was off to Bonnie’s we went. The name is not misnomer; there is actual MSG in the cocktail, along with olive brine and shaoxing wine. You get a choice of gin or vodka as your base spirit, though I seriously doubt anyone in New York besides me orders a gin Dirty Martini, when given the option.
Like so many Dirty Martinis I had over the last month, it drank more like food than a cocktail. (Again, the Bloody Mary comparison applies here.)
A few blocks away from Smithereens is Bar Snack, a friendly, open-hearted neighborhood bar from Iain Griffiths, a bartender who made his name opening various bars for the London-based Lyan group around the globe. If Smithereens wants their Dirty Martini to taste like the sea, Bar Snack wants theirs to taste like the farm. Called the Boat Snack Martini, it is made with chicken bouillon and a chicken-skin-chicharron garnish. If ever a cocktail called for a pickled egg accompaniment, it’s this one.
Krissy Harris, the beverage director and co-owner of Shy Shy, a new bar in Chelsea, isn’t messing around with extraneous ingredients. Her cocktail, cheekily named Oh, You Like It Dirty, is just vodka and brine in a coupe. Its only weirdness is it’s served on pebble ice. This takes away the need to create a floe of ice shards through a vigorous shaking.
My dirty pilgrimage finally took me to the much-chattered about Eel Bar on the Lower East Side. They serve their fairly basic Dirty Martini (gin, sherry, vermouth, brine) in a squat, footed glass. It’s a glassware choice that lends the drink an amusing dive-bar vibe. (Note to staff: increase your olive content by 50%; two olives are bad luck.)
Most of the new bars I checked out for their Dirty Martini were small, hip and edgy. Time and Tide was very different. The restaurant—the latest from the team who opened Crown Shy, Saga and Overstory—is a sprawling and sleek seafood palace big enough to feed a small army. The Time and Tide Dirty Martini is actually a visiting guest from abroad. The simple recipe, which features only vodka and a brine informed by smoked olives, is borrowed from Bar Leone in Hong Kong. Bar director Harrison Ginsberg was so impressed with that drink, he brought it to Manhattan. It’s a hands-across-the-dirty-sea collaboration.
The common denominator of all of the above bars is that none of them have a classic gin Martini on the menu. The basic Martinis has been relegated to off-menu status. (Shy Shy has a gin 50/50 on its list, but that is not truly a classic Martini, either.) That is a jarring reality for a Martini man like myself. But the story of the Martini is a long one. It’s been going on for 150 years now. This is only the current chapter.
Martini App Additions
While we’re on the subject, did you know that I created a Martini recipe app?
No? I don’t blame you. It is one of two cocktail apps I’ve created with app whiz Martini Doudoroff, the other being the far-better-known “Modern Classics of the Cocktail Renaissance,” which was launched in 2016.
“The Martini Cocktail” app arrived in August 2019, just a few months after the book of the same name dropped, and a few more months before the Covid-19 pandemic brought the planet to a screeching halt.
The original app featured 104 Martini and Martini adjacent recipes, from the first 1884 printed recipe of the Martinez to Doudoroff’s own Martin’s Martini, created in 2019. The idea behind the app was to show off the Martini in all its many variations, and to track the roller-coaster history of its ever-evolving formulae.
Once the app launched, I pretty much left it alone. I had an inkling that a Martini revival was around the corner—it’s the reason I wrote the book. But I had no idea of the all-encompassing enormity of that revival. Five years later, Martinis—and a lot of other things that people insist on called Martinis—are everywhere. They surround and sustain us.
Obviously, it’s time the app got an update.
Starting today, nine new Martini recipes have been adding to The Martini Cocktail app. This accounts for a nearly 10% increase in content. Two recipes hail from the past. The others are new. The recent additions are all from the last few years, including house recipes from such vaunted bars as Hawksmoor, Martiny’s, Sip & Guzzle, Altar and Le Veau d’Or. There’s even on recipe from yours truly.
Those interested can check out the app here.
If you want to gift the app to someone, locate the app in the App Store, tap the share button (the square with the arrow pointing upwards) and then scroll the share sheet up—there’s a “Gift App” button there.
Farewells
Looking back at last year’s Winter Vacation report, I experienced a sharp spell of carpe diem and was reminded that one must experience life while one can, because certain experiences can vanish at a moment’s notice.
Last December, we enjoyed a dinner with our good friends David and Alex at the old Steak Row standby Pietro’s, a landmark that is now vanished. And my long-cherished tradition of doing a Christmas cocktail book event at the Larchmont Public Library, alongside a fellow booze author, came to an end. After nearly a decade, the library officials decided not to do a holiday cocktail klatch this year, and I suspect that will be the end of that.
That unfortunately meant no post-reading run to Walter’s hot dog pagoda in nearby Mamaroneck, a loss almost as heartbreaking. I had to content myself with merely staring at the Walter’s Christmas ornament on my tree and imagining what might have been.
Accidental Hot Dog Tour
If there was no Walter’s run this year, there were compensations in the form of other far-flung frankfurters. I planned none of it, but in the ten days leading up to Christmas I ended up feasted on some of the more noteworthy wieners in the tri-state area.
Business brought me to western New Jersey in mid-December. So, en route, I thought: why not swing by Hot Dog Johnny’s on the way? After all, it was only…an hour out of the way. But, who’s counting the minutes during the holiday season?
We swung our Nissan into the nearly empty parking lot along the Peaquest River and strode into the unheated interior. The temperature reminded us that, yes, hot dog stands are primarily a summer business. The indoor tables proving too chilly to endure, we took our peanut-oil-cooked dogs and birch beer to our cozy car.
That same week, we landed by accident at Old Town Bar, having exhausted all other lunch options in the area. I ordered the twin frankfurter platter, which, for some odd reason, I had never had before. (When dining at an old saloon, I always feel compelled to order a bowl of chili and a plate of French fries. I do not know why.)
Old Town must serve the most curious hot dog dish in the city. The two dogs are both served on buttered, grilled, top-loaded buns. But each hot dog is different. One appears to be deep-fried, in the fashion of a New Jersey Ripper. The other is scored and grilled. I thought there must be some mistake, that the cook was drunk or confused. But I saw pictures of the dish online that looked the same—including Old Town’s own site. So, the different dogs are intentional.
Five days before Christmas, I was strung out with anxiety, so I bolted from my desk and domicile, and cleared my head by walking the streets of Greenwich Village. I ended up at the counter of Hamburger America, remembering that for that month the burger joint was paradoxically featuring a chili dog as a special. The frank’s vibe is very Jersey. Owner George Motz uses a Sabrett’s hot dog, adorned with “coney sauce,” yellow mustard and diced white onion, all on a steamed bun. I found it solid and satisfying. I hope they made it a permanent addition to the menu. After all, what classic hamburger joint across the nation doesn’t offer a hot dog?
Rutt’s Hut shows the way; renowned for its dogs, it also sells hamburgers. Actually, it serves everything, from steaks to Maryland ham to fried flounder. It’s kinda weird.
We detoured to Rutt’s for an injection of good feeling, after braving the depressing, help-free, tree-lined halls of the nearby Home Depot. Let me tell you, there is no place on Earth with less Christmas cheer that the tree lot at a Home Depot. I went to two different ones this season. A Soviet Gulag could not drain all the joy out of a holiday purchase more successfully.
Rutt’s Hut did the job. The Rippers were better than usual, and service was lickity-split. You can order Rippers in five different levels of doneness. Curious, I ordered a Creamator, which is the most well-done version. I will not do that again. It was like eating an elongated fireplace cinder—with relish. Still, I walked away with a smile.
Star Adjacent
It was a season of filmic chance encounters. My son Asher went to the IFC Center in Greenwich Village to see their annual screening of It’s a Wonderful Life and was treated to a few words from the daughter of Donna Reed. (Last year, we took him to the same show and sat a few rows behind actress J. Smith-Cameron and her playwright husband Kenneth Lonergan.)
Then, somewhat unbelievably, Asher and I went to Film Forum to see the 1937 Frank Capra film Mr. Deeds Goes to Town and shared the space with star Gary Cooper’s only daughter, Maria Veronica Cooper.
Thrive in 2025
Now that we’ve address the recent past, it’s time to look to the future.
The Big Three
There are plenty of exciting things coming up at The Mix, not least of all the newsletter’s mighty 3rd Anniversary on Jan. 19. Three years! It’s hard to believe. It feels like three days, it’s been so fun and satisfying. On to year 4!
Bourbon and Rye Week
Shortly after that landmark comes Bourbon and Rye Week, Feb. 3-9, a week-long editorial celebration of America’s two favorite whiskeys, complete with feature stories, interviews, historical studies and lots and lots of reviews of bourbon and rye brands.
We said it a few weeks ago, but it bears repeating: If you make a bourbon or rye, or represent a bourbon or rye, and would like it to be one of the bottles reviewed during Bourbon and Rye Week on The Mix, here’s your chance:
Send a bottle to The Mix offices by Jan. 31 and it will be featured.
To get information on our mailing address contact Mary Kate at marykatemurray@me.com.
The Mix Across the Pond
Right after that explosion of whiskey content, The Mix will be headed to London for a week. We’ve done our best in the past to give you plenty of international content.
In May 2022, we went in search of Pasta all’Amatriciana and hats in Rome.
In June 2022, we tracked down the creator of the Red Hook cocktail in Ischia.
In December 2022, we first discovered the Old Martini Switcheroo at a bar in Madrid.
The same month, we canvassed the cocktail scene in Barcelona.
In January 2023, we visited Bar Basso and the Fernet Branca distillery in Milan.
In Feb. 2024, we found the best bar in Athens.
In December 2024, we discovered the truth behind Angostura Bitters in Trinidad.
That it’s taken us this long to do some reporting from London is a bit surprising. It’s been a decade since I’ve trod the tangled streets along the Thames, so I’ve got a lot of ground to cover, cocktail- and food-wise. But cover it, we are determined to do! Look for London content beginning in late February.
Your Favorite Features and New Additions
After that, what else? Well, we’ll go “In Search Of…” various regional foods, as we do. I can’t say which right now; that would give away the game. But expect the first story by March. We will log in a few new “Sidebar” interviews with authors who have interesting upcoming books in the fields of food and drink. There will be various rollicking “On a Toot!”s, as our travels merit. And we will continue in our efforts in Making History, as we cook through various recipes from celebrated restaurants of days gone by. And of course, they’ll be new features for 2025, because The Mix keeps on growing.
Want to be in on all this? Well, here you go:
Odds and Ends…
La Noxe, the hip listening bar/club nestled in the located in the 1 train’s 28th Street station, is opening a second branch, four times the size, in the historic Trinity Building near Wall Street. The bar will overlook the Trinity Church graveyard, where Alexander Hamilton is buried. The grand opening will be during the week on Jan. 15. Because one of the owners is from Wisconsin, there will be a Wisconsin Old-Fashioned on the menu… Imbibe magazine came out with its annual “Imbibe 75” issue. I penned two of those 75: one about the creators of January Spirits and one of Nick Jarrett, the one-of-a-kind owner of the New Orleans neo-dive bar Holy Diver… In Vinepair, I wrote about how the second acts of various prominent cocktail figures from the UK and Europe are taking place in New York City. Featured in the are Schmuck, Bar Snack and Experimental Cocktail Club… Izzy Tulloch—the head bartender at Milady’s, Julie Reiner’s cocktail bar in SoHo, since the joint opened—put in her last shift on Dec. 21. Her plan is to open a place of her own sometime in the future… The next monthly burger special at Hamburger America will be the Green Chili Cheeseburger from Owl Bar & Cafe in San Antonio, New Mexico… It’s Dry January! And cocktail bars are here to answer your calls for NA drinks. Dear Irving in Manhattan is offering a “Choose Your Own Adventure” menu at each of its three Manhattan locations. Each unique menu features a no-, low-, and full-proof cocktail, as well as a more premium “treat” option. Each “Choose Your Own Adventure” menu is available now through January 31… The craft beer boom is finally over. Or is it?… Whitney Moeller reminisces about Alpine garlic soup.
I remember all too well that Canadian whisky continued to be *de rigeuer* in Manhattans in regular bars right through the 2000s. The straight rye revival was only just getting started circa 2000, and it took years to build up steam. Bourbon was well into its premiumization journey, but Manhattans weren’t yet, outside the new cocktail bars. 2000 also (roughly) when Lot 40 made its way to the US market—albeit vanishingly—reflecting the start of a parallel renewal within Canadian whisky. I have no idea what highs and lows Canadian whisky could reach in the 1930s, but the 80s/90s/2000s Canadian I was familiar with was generally bland, inoffensive, but also uninteresting on its own. Lot 40 dared to be slightly more interesting, but there was zero danger of it competing with even a Rittenhouse 40 on its own merits, at least not within the Cocktail Renaissance. That said, a Manhattan cocktail made with contemporary Canadian just tastes different and hits different. It arguably deserves its own name.
Hi! Are you coming to London on vacation or are you planning any masterclass or book signing event?