Special mention will be made acknowledging any faithful reader who can tell me the significance of that title.
Today, we try a different variation on yesterday’s Wolf Bite. This one is called a Beetlejuice cocktail, though I’m not sure if it’s a reference to the 1988 movie with Michael Keaton, or maybe just to the smooshed innards of a beetle. Either way, it’s appropriate for Halloween.
“I’m the ghost with the most, babe.”
Tim Burton had a surprising amount of success with that movie. It grossed almost $75 million in the theaters, won an Academy Award, and spawned an animated TV series and a stage musical. It has an 85% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes. And thus, not surprisingly, there’s been talk of a sequel…for the past 30-something years. A script for a sequel was written in the 1990s, and it’s been re-written a number of times, but the film has never been made. Notably, just a few months ago, it was announced by Brad Pitt’s (!) production company that filming on a sequel–starring Keaton and Winona Ryder–would begin this year. Stay tuned.
But while you’re waiting, why not have a Beetlejuice cocktail? Here we go!
The recipe: Start with a glass of ice, and add 1 oz vodka, 1/2 oz Midori, 1/2 oz Chambord, 1/2 oz blue curacao, and 2 oz sweet and sour. Then carefully float 1.5 oz cranberry juice to the top.
The Ratings:
It looks great! Unnatural bright green color dominates, with blood red (from the cranberry juice) near the top. Three points for appearance.
The taste, however, is underwhelming. With such a mix of liqueurs, I would have expected a symphony of flavors. But the taste is flat and nondescript. My son Ian, who happened to be around for this experiment, says “It tastes like an Otter Pop.” My wife, who took a small sip, literally spit it out. I’m afraid this earns only 1 point for taste.
The simpler option.
The name is a good one, but I don’t see how this green and red drink really evokes Beetlejuice the movie. (It actually looks like the color of Otter Pops!) As noted above, I suppose it might reference a smooshed beetle. So let’s give it 1 point for the name.
Grand Total: 5 points.
Bonus: Here’s son Ian and daughter-in-law Katelyn enjoying beers at Epidemic Ales in Concord, CA. Note the spooky background. They argue that these are better Halloween-themed drinks than my Otter Pop drink.
Parents of my future grandkids.Mural detail. Not pumpkin and spider webs.
In 1982, an English New-Wave band named after a character in a 1968 soft-porn exploitation film starring Jane Fonda had a hit song with lyrics like “smell like I sound” and “mouth is alive/with juices like wine” (I’m not making any of this up!) The name of the song, by Duran Duran, was “Hungry Like The Wolf,” and the song kept running through my head as I made today’s cocktail, which is called a Wolf Bite.
Wolves have a definite place in the Halloween canon, usually in the form of werewolves. Which in turn always reminds me of this Young Frankenstein gag:
Anyway, the whole concept of werewolves dates back to the Middle Ages, but it didn’t really become a Halloween staple until the mid-twentieth century. Thia modern focus on werewolves was launched in 1935 with Universal’s TheWerewolf of London. It should be noted that most of what we “know” about werewolves (the effect of the full moon, bite victims becoming werewolves themselves, silver bullets, etc) were created out of full cloth by Universal. In 1941 Universal released a second werewolf film (The Wolf Man) that starred Lon Chaney Jr, and this one really struck a popular chord.
Now we know where Will Ferrell got his hairstyle from.
There followed dozens of other werewolf films, including Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman (1943), Curse of the Werewolf (1961), American Werewolf in London (my fave) (1981), and of course the Michael J Fox vehicle, Teen Wolf (1985). Werewolves were also featured in the late Warren Zevon’s amusing top 40 hit, Werewolves of London (1978). Sing along with me:
“I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand” is surely one of the greatest opening lines for a rock song.
But to get back to the Wolf Bite: Here’s what the recipe says about it: “This Wolf Bite shooter is one of those fun drinks with a special effect that can make a real splash at a Halloween party. It’s an interesting mix with a little surprise inside and one that guests will certainly take note of.” OK, this sounds promising, and given that we’ve established wolves/werewolves are a legit Halloween topic, let’s make one!
The Recipe: Combine 1/2 oz Midori melon liqueur, 1/4 oz absinthe, and 1 oz pineapple juice in a shaker with ice. Shake it (baby). Pour into a tall shot glass (I used a champagne glass), add a drizzle of 7-up, and then carefully add a dash of Grenadine.
The Ratings:
The drink has a neon color, with a bottom layer that’s a bit darker (c/o of the Grenadine). I think Grenadine is supposed to be the “special effect” mentioned in the recipe, but it’s not exactly “special” in my opinion. Granted, it’s the colors are somewhat unusual looking, as befits a Halloween drink. It would look even better with a suitable garnish, but even without one it visually stands out. I’ll give the appearance 2.5 points.
Moreover, this is actually a very tasty drink. The pineapple juice and melon liqueur give it sweet citrus backbone, and the 7-Up gives it an enjoyable fizz. The grenadine adds a little tartness and interest with its pomegranate flavor, and the absinthe is a totally unexpected wildcard. Somehow it all comes together, and goes down way too easy. (Fortunately, this is not a high-alcohol drink.) Taste gets 3.5 points.
The name gives a slight nod toward Halloween, but it would have been better if were called something like Werewolf Punch or an Eddie Munster. I can’t give it the full 2 points, but I’ll give the name 1.5 points.
I’m not sure when it happened, but Zombies are cool again. They sure weren’t in 1932 when Bela Lugosi starred in the shlocky embarrassment called White Zombie. They sure weren’t in 1968 when George Romero made the ground-breaking horror film, Night of the Living Dead. They sure weren’t when the low-budget Italian horror film named Baron Blood appeared on Channel 2’s Creature Features in 1972, giving me nightmares for a week.
Zombies were always too clumsy to be cool, too disgusting to be slick like Dracula, too inarticulate to really even have much of a personality.
Is the one on the left a zombie accountant?
But somewhere along the line, zombies became cool. It might have been when Simon Pegg starred in 2004’s campy Shaun of the Dead. Or maybe it’s when urban hipsters started holding Zombie Walks. Or maybe it was the profusion of zombie-themed internet games like “Resident Evil” and “The Walking Dead.” All I know is: Zombies are no longer relegated to the lame zone in the pantheon of movie monsters.
Ghostbusters meets White Zombie
So, given all that, perhaps the Zombie can bring a little cachet to our list of Halloween cocktails.
It’s said that the Zombie was invented by Donn Beach, founder of the Don The Beachcomber chain of prototypical “tiki bar” restaurants. When I was a wee lad, one such establishment was located in San Jose, on Stevens Creek Boulevard. I spied it through the car window many times, but alas, I never darkened its doorstep.
San Jose’s Don the Beachcomber, looking like a 1950’s spaceship.
Donn Beach opened his first bar, called Don’s Beachcomber, in Hollywood in 1933. It was successful, and he and his wife developed a chain of Donn the Beachcomber restaurants that numbered 16 at its height. The restaurants cashed in on the post-war Tiki fad that gripped the nation.
But let’s get back to Zombies. Beach is credited with creating the Zombie cocktail. Supposedly he came up with the drink as a courtesy to a favorite customer, who was hung over and was facing an important business meeting. The unnamed customer drank the concoction, and subsequently informed Beach that the drink had turned him “into a Zombie.” Beach recognized the marketing potential, and his drink was henceforth called the “Zombie.”
So, let’s now acknowledge that the Zombie really has nothing to do with Halloween. Its claim to fame is being a high-alcohol drink that goes down easy due to a variety of fruity juices and syrups.
The Recipe: You’ll need four (!) rums: Pour 1 oz. each of white, spiced, and dark rums into a shaker, and hold in reserve 1/2 oz. of 151. Now, to disguise the rum, add 1 oz of lemon juice, 1 oz of lime juice, 1 oz of pineapple juice, 1 oz of passion fruit syrup, and 3 dashes of orange bitters. Shake and pour into a suitable glass with ice. Now, add 1/2 oz of grenadine and the 151. Drink and pass out.
RIP Donn Beach.
The Ratings: The appearance is nothing special. Just a tropical drink. 1 point.
The taste is very tropical–the fruit juices really come through, though I think it was too strong on the lemon. The fruit juices really hide the 3.5 oz of rum, which I guess is the point. Nevertheless, the taste certainly isn’t evocative of Halloween. It’s more of your standard summer drink. 2 points.
As a Halloween name, Zombie is hard to beat. 2 points.
Total: 5 points.
RAVEN’S CORNER
In honor of Edgar Allan Poe and my recent lightning trip to Richmond, I thought I’d share a few raven (or a least big black bird) sightings.
This morning Chris and I visited Richmond’s Hollywood Cemetery (est. 1847). In the midst of the confederate section (Hollywood contains about 18,000 confederate dead), there stands a 90-foot-tall granite pyramid erected in 1869.
But what’s this at the apex of the pyramid?
“Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling….”
Ravens have been incorporated into some of Richmond’s signage, such as Poe’s Pub.
That’s either a stylized raven, or a rocket ship.
We appreciated that the owners of the Shelton House (where Poe’s last fiancee lived) have seen fit to plant a fake raven at the front steps.
And, cap things off, today’s Beer of the Day is something called the Raven’s Roost Baltic Porter.
Dark as a raven is the Baltic Porter from Raven’s Roost.
This BOTD isn’t as thick as the Imperial Stouts that I’m partial toward. The body is actually rather thinner than you’d expect from something this dark. It’s also lightly hopped and lightly carbonated. Overall, it’s a rather tame beer. And yet it’s also very flavorful, with a strong chocolate profile and sweet maltiness. Clocking in at 7.1 ABV, it will improve your mood but it won’t kick your ass. I give it four out of five stars.
We interrupt this month of Halloween cocktails to bring you breaking news that I’m in Virginia for an Edgar Allan Poe pilgrimage. I will give you the gory details in a moment, but first let me share some other breaking news:
The Twentieth Anniversary Edition of the Dome of Foam is live!
Uncle Edward’s Fever Dream
I am aware that a number of my readers respond positively to any railroad-themed content from my road trips, so they will be especially heartened by this news. The Dome o’ Foam, for those of you not already familiar, is a quirky, hard-to-define, and entirely mesmerizing collection of railroad history and miscellanea, focusing in particular on the Southern Pacific Railroad. The Dome is the brainchild of my Uncle Edward — E.O. Gibson, to you. Alert readers will recall that Uncle Ed has periodically made appearances in this blog. The new, 20th anniversary edition of his site contains a dizzying array of new content, updates on old content, photographs, personal stories, and cartoons. You owe it to yourself to check it out here.
So, on to my Poe trip. As everyone should have learned as a school child, Edgar Allan Poe lived in various cities of the East during the 19th century, focused largely on Richmond, VA (where he grew up) and Baltimore, MD (where he died under mysterious circumstances). Three years ago (before Covid shut down public gatherings) my friend Chris and I attended the International Edgar Allan Poe festival, held literally in Poe’s old neighborhood in Baltimore, MD. Today Chris and I bookended that trip with a visit to Poe’s old neighborhood in Richmond VA.
Before beauty filters.
The main Poe attraction in Richmond is the Poe Museum on E. Main Street. You may recall that I drove right by the museum on my Route 50 trip in 2018, as Route 50 becomes Richmond’s Main Street and takes you right through the neighborhood. Alas, the museum was closed when I passed it. So this time, I was finally able to darken its doorstep.
Better late than never.
It’s a remarkable museum, with the world’s largest collection of authentic Poe memorabilia: His bed, writing desk, walking cane, various letters, articles of clothing, photographs and daguereotypes, books, other personal effects, and even the staircase and fireplace mantel from prior Poe residences. It also has a meditation garden and major shrine to Poe.
Two cats–Edgar and Pluto–roam the museum grounds like the own the place…which in a way they do.
Edgar and Pluto…or is that Pluto and Edgar?
In front of the museum is a large granite block with Poe’s name and birth and death years inscribed on it. No, it’s not a giant tombstone; it’s the pedestal base for a Poe statue that was created in the mid-1950s–when Richmond finally decided to embrace Poe.
Channeling my inner Dobie Gillis
For reasons that aren’t entirely clear, the pedestal base was discovered in a local landfill by some kids many years later (in 1973, to be exact). It seems that it had been rejected by the city, and a new one had been cut. This “new” base sits, with the statue atop it, in Richmond’s capitol park.
Poe statue in Capitol Park
After the museum, Chris and I visited a number of other Poe-related sites in Richmond, as depicted below.
Grave marker for Poe’s mother–an English actress who died of tuberculosis in Richmond at age 24, when Poe was only 2. Richmond’s Monument Church, where John and Frances Allan were parishioners. The Allans took in the orphaned Edgar Poe (as his father had abandoned the family before Eliza Poe’s death). This is how Edgar Poe became Edgar Allan Poe.The house of Elmira Shelton. Poe became engaged to Elmira at the tender age of 16, just before leaving for UVA. Her father disapproved of the courtship, and intercepted Poe’s letters to Elmira. Thinking that Poe had forgotten about her, Elmira married another man. Later, Poe famously married his own 13-year-old cousin. But after she died of tuberculosis and Elmira’s husband also died, Poe and Elmira again became engaged. To complete the tragedy, Poe himself died at age 40 just a week and a half before he and Elmira were to be married.Skeleton in a local bookstore. It’s not directly Poe-related, but somehow it’s appropriate.And to round out our Poe-themed day, the receptionist at our hotel is named “Raevyn” (as in, Raven).I’m not making this up.
I hope that all this explains why I wasn’t able to prepare a Halloween cocktail for the blog today. I promise to double-up my cocktail posts when I get home.
I’ve been advised by some of my younger readers (i.e., those born after Al Gore invented the Internet) that I should branch out this series of cocktails to include Jello shots.
Now, I have never partaken of this gelatinous “libation.” But evidently it’s not just a modern trend. According to Wikipedia, gelatin/alcohol mixtures date back into the 19th century, with rougher approximations (with aspic and wine, for example) dating back centuries before that. Modern Jell-O itself was invented in 1897, and the first modern Jell-O shot recipe was published in 1902.
And yet, Tom Lehrer (of “Vatican Rag” fame) claims to have invented the modern jello shot as a way to circumvent the alcohol ban at a Navy base. I don’t know about that, but it does seem that the concoction has various benefits, such as being spill-proof and tasting like an innocuous dessert.
There are a number of different Halloween-themed jello shot recipes on the Internet, so I figured I’d try one. I chose an unnaturally blue shot with a worm that was on a list of “Halloween Jello Shots.” Here we go!
The Recipe: Boil 1/2 cup water, add a 3-oz package of Berry Blue Jell-O, and stir until completely dissolved. Add 1/2 cup Sprite and 1 cup of raspberry vodka. Pour into shot glasses and chill. When the mixture is about halfway set, add a gummy worm to each shot.
Only after I had combined all the ingredients did I realize that this recipe was supposed to yield 50 (!) Jell-O shots. I guess they’re supposed to be in thimble-sized glasses? So rather than let all that Jell-O goodness go to waste, I poured a goodly amount of the mixture into your standard-sized skull glass (12 oz).
After about 20 minutes I added the worm, and an hour later the “shot” was ready.
The Ratings: Well, it’s different, I’ll give it that. The blue color is completely unnatural, and it creates an otherworldly glow in the skull. The worm is appropriately disgusting, crawling out of the cranium. Overall, it has a pretty good Halloween look. I’ll give the appearance 3.5 points.
Tasting the shot is easier said that done. Evidently one is supposed to loosen the Jell-O shot from the sides of the class with a finger, and then throw it down your gullet (i.e., you shoot it). But I was unable to get the Jell-O to drop out of the inverted glass. The eye sockets and other convolutions in the glass kind of locked the Jell-O in. I ended up eating it was a spoon, like a kid in a 1970’s Jell-O commercial.
The taste actually wasn’t bad. It just tasted like blue-flavored (!) Jell-O. After a few spoonsful you do begin to notice that you’re consuming alcohol. But it keeps going down easy. I’m sure if I’d make a couple of proper, 1-oz shots this would have been a fun experience. But slogging through a whole skull’s worth was, in retrospect, excessive.
I give the taste 3 points.
The name gets no points. “Halloween Jell-O Shot”?? How unimaginative and boring. “Skeleton Gelatin” would have been a better moniker. Or maybe “Jell-O Hell-O”? Or how about “A bunch of ground-up horse hooves with sugar and grain alcohol”? Nothing scarier than that!
Chasing Phantoms 