Words to live by from Esquires Wondrich: When properly built, the Manhattan is the only cocktail that can slug it out toe-to-toe with the martini. Its bold and fortifying, yet as relaxing as a deep massage. J.P. Morgan used to have one at the close of each trading day. Its that kind of drink. When properly built -- theres the problem. For a real Manhattan, you need rye whiskey. No amount of fiddling with the vermouth and bitters can save this drink if youve got bourbon in the foundations; its just too sticky-sweet. But with rye, this venerable creation -- its roots stretch back to the old Manhattan Club, in 1874 -- is as close to divine perfection as a cocktail can be. The harmony between the bitters, the sweet vermouth, and the sharp, musky whiskey rivals even that existing between gin and tonic water. All things change, and immortality is not in the grasp of man or his creations. For many a year, it seemed that the virtual disappearance of rye meant that the real Manhattan had gone the way of the Aztecs. Luckily, thats not the end of the story. The wave of high living that washed us out of the last century has brought with it a renewed interest in fine, funky old things like cigars, big-band jazz, and rye whiskey. Sure, sometimes this gets carried to extremes, but if that means that nobody will ever again pour a bourbon Manhattan, well gladly put up with all the dipshits in Make Mine with Rye T-shirts.
Posted on: Wed, 05 Mar 2014 05:01:09 +0000