Cover image from my forthcoming Edgar Allan Poe cocktail book. I’m not making this up.
Well, here we are–on the cusp of another October with its promise of spooky decorations, pumpkin beer, and, ultimately, All Hallow’s Eve. And you know what that means: it’s the month that I turn over this blog to 31 days of Halloween-related content. In past years we’ve had reviews of Halloween snacks, Halloween candy, Frankenstein movies, my own serialized horror story, and other thematic content.
This is truly a magical season, as the weather (at least in my neck of the woods) changes from hot and dry to cool and misty. The days shorten, the sun hangs lower on the horizon, and wood smoke fills the air. The hub, not to mention the bub, of the so-called Winter Holidays is (barely) held in abeyance while we make this transition into fall. It’s my favorite time of year. And that’s why this blog celebrates the season through the whole month of October.
So, what’s on tap for this year’s October blog? I’m glad you asked. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to present 31 Edgar Allan Poe tales, each paired with a bespoke cocktail related to the story. In each post I’ll give you a short excerpt from Poe’s original tale, a synopsis of the plot, a recipe for making the cocktail, and a “Poe-script” with some related trivia. I’ll even provide a link to the full text, just in case you’re such a Rube that you don’t already own a compendium of Poe’s works. This way, you can read the tale while sipping on your specialty cocktail.
Try one when you’re weak and weary…
One word of warning: I am not a trained mixologist. In fact, I’m pretty much groping in the dark with these recipes. All I can say is that I’ve created, tested, and refined each one until it is deemed drinkable…by me. (By way of full disclosure I should admit that most if not all of these drinks have earned a thumbs down by my wife. But she likes neither whiskey nor gin, so clearly her credibility in these matters is lacking.)
Try it–you’ll like it!
So, starting tomorrow, I invite you to spend the month enjoying my curated list of 31 Poe stories along with their associated, custom cocktails. As always, I welcome your thoughts, reactions, and hangover nostrums. If you’re not already subscribed to this blog, you can sign up below. And if you are already subscribed, spread the word! Make all your friends’ October Poe-tastic!
If you immediately identified the title of today’s blog as a lyric from Devo’s “Whip it,” you, like me, are either currently or will soon be eligible for Social Security.
Isn’t it shocking how the music we once thought was cutting-edge and innovative is now being played as generic background music at Target?
Anyway, we’ve moved into the last few days of October, and the theme this week is just a grab-bag of various foodstuffs. And “Whip It” is indeed the theme today. Our son and daughter-in-law (who are both faithful readers of Chasing Phantoms) contributed to this project an unwanted can of something called “Whip Shots.” Observe:
“You will never live it down/Unless you whip it.”
This requires several important observations before we start our review:
Whip Shots is clearly trying to convey the idea of pumpkin-spice-flavored whipped cream. But it’s entirely non-dairy. Not only is it not necessary to refrigerate this “Whip Shot;” the container specifically directs you “do not refrigerate.” Which reminds me of the admonition: “do not taunt Happy Fun Ball”
2. Whip Shots is a vodka-infused whipped (fake) cream, that is manufactured by a company called Temperance Distilling. Now that’s a worthy name for an alcohol purveyor. They’re located in Temperance, MI (pop: 9,200), which may well be a future destination for Chasing Phantoms. And guess what? The force behind this product is supposedly Belcalis Marlenis Cephus, otherwise known as Cardi B. But I won’t let that influence my rating.
Well, I guess I can’t put this off any longer. Let’s give this a “shot.”
Conceptual Soundness: I dunno. This stuff was released a year or two ago. But “alcohol-infused whipped cream” has been around for almost 20 years, according to Wikipedia. So it’s not really a new idea. I guess the claims to fame here are (1) the association with Cardi B (which is meaningless); the pumpkin spice flavor (which practically defines the disparaging slang term “basic”), and the use of “ulta-premium” vodka (which is about as meaningful as “deluxe” or “heavy duty” on every cheap Chinese tool at Harbor Freight). I’ll give it one point, just because I’m a softy.
Appearance: OK, this looks really appealing. It has a good pumpkin color, and comes out of the can looking like Reddi Whip. It has a great texture and the extruded shape has decorative flourishes. You really couldn’t ask for more from your “vodka-infused whipped cream.” 4 points.
A work of art.
Taste: Here’s where I got a little stumped. How are you even supposed to eat this stuff? The can says this is a “delicious way to top off your cocktails and desserts.” But let’s start by just eating it alone, to see what we’re working with.
“Try to detect it/It’s not too late”
Well, that was disgusting. There’s a distinct taste of vodka, but I’m here to tell you that it’s definitely not “ultra-premium” vodka, whatever that even means. It just tastes like cheap spirits to me.
This concoction is heavily sweetened, in the same sense that hummingbird food is heavily sweetened. In either case, I wouldn’t want to eat it. The container explains it uses both “natural and artificial flavors,” which is tantamount to telling me a drink contains “both nonlethal and lethal ingredients.” I mean, what’s so great about having some of the non-horrible stuff when it also contains the horrible stuff? To me, this tastes chemical-y, like whatever that was that the Joker fell into.
“When something’s going wrong/You must whip it.“
Now, to be fair, Temperance Distilling or Cardi B or whoever writes the ad copy recommends using Whip Shots as a topping on a cocktail. So let’s try it on a vodka martini. I’ll even add some of that activated charcoal, to give it a Halloween vibe. Who knows? Maybe we’ll come up with a great new Halloween cocktail!
“Looking good,” as Freddie Prinze used to say…
Never has there been such a disconnect between visual promise and gustatory reality. This is positively disgusting. We’ve learned that “Whip Shots” vodka-infused, non-dairy mystery topping is inedible. Plus, I’m starting to get a headache. Zero points.
Value: It seems the best price is available at Total Wine, where you can buy this 200 ml can for $10.99. That works out to $1.62 per ounce, which is a little more than a typical chocolate bar, but a little less than a scoop of ice cream. Strictly for visual appeal, it might be worth serving this stuff at a party where guests aren’t familiar with decent vodka. Like maybe a children’s Halloween party. I’ll give it 2 points, and that’s just because I really don’t know much about Cardi B.
Total Treat Score: 7 point/16 points
I’m really hoping we find something good by Thursday!
So, I was talking to Vincent Price’s daughter the other day…
I just couldn’t resist the name-check, though of course I’m simply referring to Poe Fest in Baltimore, where I managed to corner her for a few minutes.
Anyway, as attentive readers will recall, Victoria Price introduced her father’s 1964 Edgar Allan Poe flick, “The Masque of the Red Death,” at Poe Fest. I can’t say I was overly impressed with the movie, which I found to be lurid, garish, and unsettling. Don’t get me wrong: in general I love Vincent Price and his movies. I just had some uneasiness about “The Masque.”
Then, just a couple of days ago, dedicated reader Sherrill J. tipped me off that Vincent Price’s 1953 classic “House of Wax” was showing last night on MeTV. Now this was a whole different story.
First of all, many movies from the 1950s had an earnestness about them. Color was just becoming a thing, and the Hays code was in full force, simultaneously opening new opportunities and imposing guardrails on filmmakers. Directors and producers had to be clever and innovative to make use of the opportunities and hew to the constraints.
“House of Wax” did a pretty good job of that duality. It’s not a great movie, but it’s atmospheric and entertaining and offers a few fun surprises. But what really pushed the MeTV offering into worthwhile nostalgia was that it was hosted by Svengoolie. For those unfortunate souls among you who are not familiar with him, Svengoolie is a campy, corny “horror host” who follows in the footsteps of the late Bob Wilkins, Elvira, Count Frightenstein, Mr. Lobo, and others. In fact, it’s probably not exactly correct to say that Svengoolie “follows” in their footsteps, since he’s been at it since 1979!
Svengoolie at his “best.”
Speaking of wax: Let’s talk about today’s cocktail! It’s something called “Bite of the Vampire,” and it combines good champagne (the wife scolded me for using the last bottle of Roederer) with Aperol and the contents of one of those little wax bottles you used to get in your Halloween haul. Remember?
The wax fangs will be explained in a moment.
Conceptual Soundness: OK, it’s a reddish drink named “Vampire Bite.” That’s a good start. The addition of the Nik-L-Nip contents is interesting, as it connects this drink to Boomer Halloween Nostalgia. And as the pièce de résistance, they have you affix wax fangs to the rim of the glass. I’d say that’s a solid, focused, concept. 4 points.
Appearance: Well, it’s not the blood-red I would have expected from a “Vampire Bite” cocktail. But at least it’s in the general range of reddish. And the wax fangs are a nice touch, connecting both the “vampire” concept and the wax Halloween treat nostalgia. Let’s give it 3 points.
Taste: This isn’t a sophisticated drink. But it’s nostalgic and fun. The artificially-sweetened syrup from the wax bottle really gives it a unique zing. It shows up as a syrupy sweet finish to what would otherwise be an Aperol Spritz. The taste reminds me of a cherry Slurpee, which I used to down regularly in the 1970s. But it’s not too sweet. Although you hardly notice the champagne, it’s doing its job of balancing the wax-bottle syrup. I enjoyed drinking this, and I’ll give it 3.5 points.
Once you finish the drink, you get to annoy your family members with the wax lips.
Ease of Preparation: It’s easy to make. Hopefully you have champagne and Aperol on hand. The wax bottles and fangs will obviously require a special trip. I found mine at T.W. Bonkers Toy and Candy Emporium in Placerville. I’m sure you could find them on Amazon as well. But sure, it’s going to be a bit of work to assemble the nostalgia components. Let’s give it 2 points for ease of preparation.
MAIL BAG
Faithful Reader Sara S shared this Candy Corn cartoon from the New Yorker, which riffs on a theme this blog presented in our 2002 treat review.
Tomorrow we start our review of Halloween donuts and ice cream!!
We’re at that point in October where the Halloween products are becoming scarce, crowded out by the early and unwelcome onslaught of Christmas. This was driven home today while I was scanning the shelves for a Halloween drink at my local Nugget grocery store, and I was faced with various eggnog concoctions, mulled wine kits, premixed wassail, and something called Liquid Fruitcake. But just as I was about to despair that Halloween had somehow ended two weeks early I spotted this guy staring back at me:
I’d never heard of this “Buzzballz Biggies Pumpkin.” It looked intriguing. But in retrospect, I should have noticed the many warning signs:
First, “Buzzballs” is a trademarked name obviously pitched at those who are looking for a quick buzz. (Though at 15% ABV, this stuff isn’t as potent as a simple bottle of Scotch.) It seems to be marketed to the same crowd that would drink peppermint schnapps.
Second, there’s this on the ingredient list:
Raises more questions than it answers.
“Other than standard?” And just how good would a “standard” orange wine be?
Third, this is sold in a 1.75 liter container. That’s 2.3 times the size of your standard wine bottle (orange or otherwise). How much of this stuff can you really drink?? My theory is that they know you’ll hate it, so they force you in your one and only purchase to buy many times more than you’re willing to drink.
Foolishly, I ignored the warning signs and plowed ahead.
Before actually partaking, I searched the internet for reviews of this drink. There are many videos, but this is the only one I am comfortable posting on this G-rated blog:
Anyway, somehow I ended up at home with 1.75 liters of “Buzzballs.” So let’s get on with it.
Conceptual Soundness: I confess that I’m not entirely clear on what the concept even is. Obviously it’s packaged to look like a jack o’lantern, so this is clearly aimed at the Halloween market. As near as I can tell it’s meant to be an alcoholic Pumpkin Spice Latte. And I guess that’s a decent concept. I mean, the PSL is popular this time of year, and vodka is always in season. Reminds me of the old Reeses commercials, which played up the accidental but delightful combining of chocolate and peanut butter. Could this deliver a similarly happy combo? I’m intrigued enough to give it 2.5 points.
Appearance: The packaging definitely caught my eye. The graphics are pretty low-grade, and the shape is more like a Roadrunner-style, acme bomb than a pumpkin. But it’s semi-cute.
It’s da bomb.
Unfortunately, the appearance of the drink itself is a huge disappointment. It’s not a pleasant shade of pumpkin carotene orange, as you’d expect. Instead, it’s an anemic white, resembling the off-brand nonfat milk you might find at the school cafeteria. I am compelled to award zero points.
Not da bomb.
Taste: When I was in high school, one of my classmates–Bill M.–got a job working at the campus snack bar. At recess, I’d get in line like everyone else, and when it was my turn Bill would hand me a “suicide” drink of his own devising, as well as a handful of “change.” But I wouldn’t have paid him any money at all. It was a great scam.
The drinks he handed me were disgusting (though the price was right). They’d be some random blend of 7-Up, Dr. Pepper (in those days the “Dr.” still had a period), Canada Dry Ginger Ale, and Tab. One day, unbeknownst to me, he slipped in a shot or two of vodka. It was a disgusting, cloyingly sweet drink with an unexpected bite of alcohol. I puked in the boys’ room.
The Buzzballz tastes like that.
Actually, that analogy doesn’t fully capture the horror. This tastes like Bill M’s silly high school drink, but with the addition of a half-dozen packets of saccharine. I can’t overstate how cloying this is.
Now, this confuses me. Most of the online reviews claim Buzzballs tastes like “pumpkin pie” or a “pumpkin spice latte.” But all I taste is Sweet’N low and rubbing alcohol. Zero points.
You wonder if this foul potation is meant to be mixed with something, as you would Baily’s or Kahlua. But all the reviews I read suggested you should just chug it straight out of the container. Here’s a sample review, but please note that the language doesn’t meet my family-friendly blog standards:
Drinking demonstration around 02:00.Things get interesting around 03:45.
Ease of Preparation: The drink is pre-mixed, so there’s that. Just open and chug. But paying for it is another thing. This bottle cost me $25. Combining those two factors, let’s give it 2 points.
Total Treat Score: 4.5 points/16 points.
My recommendation is instead you try to track down Bill M.
Once a year around this time I break out the absinthe. And then, after having a drink, I put the bottle away in disgust until the next year.
Why do I keep going back??
Attentive readers will recall my review of absinthe in 2022. That was straight absinthe which I drank via the”Bohemian” method. It wasn’t terrible.
The proper apparatus.
The real attraction of absinthe is not the flavor (which is rather foul), but the appearance, the lore, and the association with the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and Oscar Wilde. Let’s take them one by one:
Absinthe is characterized by a bright green color, which is imparted from chlorophyll in its constituent herbs. It’s an otherworldly color which is perfect for Halloween.
Absinthe was popular among artists and other members of society’s fringe in the 19th century. It was considered the LSD of its day. Many claimed that the drink was highly addictive and promoted hallucinations and even, eventually, insanity. This led to its being banned in Europe and the US. Interestingly, this prohibition wasn’t lifted until 2007.
Absinthe is associated with some famous offbeat characters. It’s said that the drink was responsible for Van Gogh’s ear-lopping incident. It’s also said to have inspired some of Edgar Allan Poe’s more outre tales. (Interested readers can learn more here.)
Absinthe is also associated with Ernest Hemingway, who created a cocktail he called “Death in the Afternoon” (after his 1932 book about bullfighting). Here’s how Hemingway described the drink: “Pour one jigger absinthe into a Champagne glass. Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly.” I love a challenge–let’s make five of them!
Conceptual Soundness: As noted above, the mere inclusion of absinthe imbues the drink with Bohemian cred. But the addition of champagne seems an odd choice, especially for a two-ingredient cocktail. What’s more, the name, while perhaps evocative for a Halloween cocktail, seems to have nothing to do with the drink itself. 1 point.
Appearance: In a bit of reverse alchemy, this cocktail takes two attractive ingredients–bright green absinthe and pale gold champagne–and combines them into a sickly viridescent color reminiscent of lime Kool-Aid cut with cat urine. I can’t get behind this. Zero points.
Meow!
Taste: The combination of brut champagne and absinthe is rather jarring. It’s like sucking on a lime immediately after brushing your teeth with Pepsodent. You simultaneously experience a sickly sweet taste on the front of your tongue while back around your adenoids a sour, citrus flavor is triggering your saliva glands. I haven’t experienced a taste like this since a fluoride treatment I received in the third grade. Zero points.
Ease of Preparation: Combining these two ingredients is simplicity itself. Absinthe might not be a staple in your home bar, though. And I daresay this cocktail might be too simple. There’s no complexity at all. I’ll give it two points, and that’s being generous.
Total Treat Score: 3 points, making this drink the worst we’ve reviewed so far!
Full disclosure: I only drank one of these, so technically I didn’t follow Hemingway’s directions which require you drink “three to five slowly.” If any of you is up for the challenge, please follow these directions to the letter and report back.
Chasing Phantoms 