but before i even move on i'm going to go right out and say it: i fucking hate gin. i like taking christmas trees to bonfires, but i certainly don't enjoy drinking christmas trees. in fact, gin and its junipery failure of a taste has always been the only liquor i will refuse.
with that being said, i can explain the thursday night i promised i'd get back to. i would've written about it sooner if it weren't for little miss bitch-toes rendering me furious and sleep-deprived. plus, i wasn't sure how to write about it. i'm still not sure how to write about it. all i can say is i came home feeling like i'd just returned from my first day of kindergarten. i was excited like i'd never been, and in one of the greatest non-girl-related moods i've ever been in.
i found myself at distillery no. 209-- a gin distillery-- because russ (of loving doodle) had invited me and because i desperately needed to escape my house, mind, and familiar surroundings. a last minute invitation to a gin distillery is more or less the exact opposite of my typical nights.
it was like that cars song: just what i needed. well, like the title anyway.
i was easily the youngest, most under-dressed character in russ' entourage. and the minute i saw the friends he'd invited, i started to worry: they were all business-folk in business-casual to business-serious gear. lawyers, doctors, sales-people, entrepreneurs.
but before i could over-think the potential dangers of being the only long-haired penguin-footed kid without a real job, i was introduced to everyone.
and everyone was so fucking cool i had to excuse myself to have a cigarette and just think it all over. they didn't judge me-- in fact, they were impressed by my position as an illustrator. their sense of humor was about as dark and demented as mine, and every one of them was 100% open to conversation. i finished my cigarette and briefly considered that i was a dick for assuming their suits meant they wouldn't be nice to me.
you'll have to forgive me: it's mind-blowing to be surrounded by professionals who don't give me any form of disapproving eye.
between the new group of friends and the 10,000 gallon sci-fi-esque vat surrounding me, i was giddy and ridiculous. but i think we all were. the distillery was not open to the public-- it was open for us.
exactly why the distillery had been opened for us was an even greater surprise than being invited to visit. evidently, there are a few things i don't know about russ. for one, he's somewhat of a social coordinator amongst his friends and every single person i met was connected to him through either a cafe run-in, san francisco's kick ball team, or previous work together. even i was technically one of his colleagues.
the second thing i didn't know is that he-- and everyone in the room-- is a con-artist of sorts.
we got into the distillery because he had read that the liquor industry is a brilliant market. if you brand correctly, you can sit back and watch money flow. coincidentally, he also heard the sales-folk of no. 209 trying to evangelize their gin at a bar. and, after researching, he found that they were not only local but very new and interesting in marketing changes.
...so he wrote a letter to the president of the distillery, informing him that he was the president of a [made up] company named "fast forward" and that he runs a team of young professionals who visit local businesses and either write press about them, or fund them, or do other great things.
and boom. we all had our roles: i was THE ARTIST-- which explains why no one gave me an eye when i showed up in painty torn jeans and messy hair.
the story behind the distillery is rather magical, as well. the whole event was, actually. once upon a time, there was a rich man who went out into one of his many vineyards and started walking. after a bit of it, he came across a large brick wall which was covered in ivy.
and when he removed the ivy, he saw the words DISTILLERY No. 209 printed largely on the wall. he had accidentally uncovered the 209th distillery in the united states-- from some time before prohibition, back when the government used to number each registered plant in order to insure a moonshine-free environment.
that man, at the time, was also wondering what sort of legacy he could leave his daughter. he already owned pizza hut, sunset magazine, and morton's steakhouse-- and his several vineyards-- but he wanted her to have something, too.
he picked gin because vodka is over-done and probably because he had no knowledge of whiskey. also, the process in which gin is made can be very much like wine-- especially in the united kingdom, where it's all done by hand.
this is where he experiments on new gins. in fact, he's made a kosher "for passover" gin-- which is probably the very definition of "niche market" if there is one. i asked the president if they had done research and accidentally discovered that jewish people really like gin, but she said no. it turned out the owner is jewish.
both ways, that's kind of cool. there are no other kosher gins. this can be like the liquor-version of adam sandler's hanukkah song.
so, let's get to the point:
the tour was about an hour and a half and we were taught that gin is actually just vodka with herbs and spices. read that again, please. they purchase 10,000 gallons of corn vodka (for a sweeter flavor) and drop in 25lbs of botanicals like juniper and lemon.
also, of that 10,000 galloons, only 5,000 will be made into the gin no. 209 sells. actually, let me take that back. only 10,000 gallons will be drinkable gin. the remaining 5,000 is what they call "heads" and "tails" and tends to be upwards of 190 proof-- it's sold off to konica & phillips where they probably use it for rocket fuel or battery acid.
"wait," i said, "so there is a guy who's job is to basically drink the gin periodically and tell you whether or not it's heads, tails, or heart?"
"yeah," she said, "believe it or not!"
"are you hiring?"
she wasn't. yet. i have a feeling mr. heads-tails-hearts is going to have an unfortunate accident soon.
now, back to my original statement: i fucking hate gin.
there are several reasons behind my hate-- as well as most of yours. for starters, most of us tried gin back before we knew how to drink-- some of us, arguably, still don't know how to drink. but let me say this: the first time i had gin, i drank tanqueray because i thought it would give me more street cred. i had a whole pint, tried to woo a billiards employee into giving my under-aged self free beer. she didn't. she gave me her number and a very awkward hug.
whatever your gin-story may be, if it took place before you were out of college it's likely a bad story. and so then you swear off gin and go on believing it always tastes like christmas trees and always accidentally gets awkward girls' phone numbers.
part of this is because there really are only five popular gin companies to choose from.
the other part is that you likely tried an english dry gin-- the ones heavy in juniper-- bombay, beefeater, and tanqueray are all english dry gins. in fact, hendricks is one of the only popular gins that is considered a west coast gin. what that means is it's one of the only gins that ups the citrus taste in their liquor and down-plays the juniper (the christmas trees).
no. 209 is a west coast gin.
and, after the lengthy tour and conversations, we asked if we could try some. i believe that thought was hanging in everyone's mind from the start of the night. i'm just glad that i wasn't the one to have to bring it up.
however, it is illegal for us to have tried any of the gin within the distillery-- something about something and blah, blah, blah. so, for all intensive purposes, i must let you know in firm bold-face: the president of distillery no. 209 did not pour each one of us a nice glass of gin to try.
and now that i've gotten that out of the way, i can tell you it is quite delicious. i drank it without ice, tonic, or lime-- straight as straight can be and i liked it. it tastes nothing like christmas, and i feel like a small asshole for ever grouping all gin together as if it were only one way. it's like comparing bourbon to rye.
after the distillery, we all went back to the captain of the san francisco kickball team's three-story apartment where we proceeded to drink more alcohol and watch planet earth. as it turns out, i had been commissioned to draw him a birthday card a few weeks earlier and was now in his house, staring at my own loving doodle on his wall. that was refreshing.
a few of us talked "business" and i was offered some illustration gigs or experiments-- the kind where i make no money if they make none-- and i will likely take advantage of them. i also met the creator of pinch'd which is san francisco-based adventure site and definitely worth checking out.
the night was a drawn-out orgasm.
in fact, i've abbreviated this story because i could go on forever about how i heard a salesman pitching the idea of replacing the 25lbs of botanicals with 25lbs of marijuana and making weed-gin, or the phrase "gin and jews" for the passover gin. or the doctor who was unsure if it was unethical to have looked through his patient's insurance files to determine whether or not she was single. and whether or not it would then be unethical to have sex with her.
seriously, though. go try no. 209.
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