What’s Tony Drinking? Matsuhisa Martini, Hudson Malone, Martiny's & Honey Whiskey
Vodka, Sushi & Secrets
As you may have guessed from the scant mention of vodka in What’s Tony Drinking? I’m not a big-time fan of the stuff. But when I do drink it, my vodka of choice is Haku, from the good folks at Suntory. It’s distilled from rice, so it has a slightly sweet, slightly starchy flavor reminiscent of a sake. In a word, delicious. But the real reason I went out for a night of vodka cocktails was because it was folded into a sushi crawl — three restaurants, multiple vodka cocktails, copious amounts of raw fish, all hosted by Suntory’s inimitable brand ambassador, Gardner Dunn.
We kicked things off with lychee martinis and sashimi at Blue Ribbon Sushi, then headed to Nobu Downtown for nigiri and the classic Matsuhisa Martini. I’ve been drinking them and loving them since Nobu first opened in the mid ‘90s — neither the cocktail nor the restaurant are at the vanguard of cool nowadays, but the food and drink are still top notch. Finally, we wound up at Nakaji for more Haku cocktails and an absolutely spectacular Edomae-style omakase which kept on coming and coming and did I eat every morsel placed in front of me? You bet I did.
Where there’s Gardner Dunn, there’s always a surprise or two at least, and this night was no exception. No evening with Gardner is complete without a little whisky, so after a night of Haku, we finished up — or so we thought — with a dram of Hibiki 30 Year Old, one of the most sublime whiskies you’ll find in Japan or anywhere else. But wait, there was more! A few of us at a time were taken to a special, top-secret location which held a top-of-the-line turntable, an old-school tube amp and high-end speakers, and a potent array of vintage vinyl, Suntory whisky and memorabilia. After the gustatory delights of the previous few hours, it was impossible to imagine things getting better still. But drinking a rare peated Yamazaki while listening to Kool & The Gang on the best-sounding hi-fi I’d ever experienced… that may have topped it all.
If you’ve never had a Matsuhisa Martini, by the way, you don’t have to go to Nobu to get one — here’s how!
Matsuhisa Martini
2 parts Haku vodka
2.5 parts Hokusetsu or other junmai sake
2 slices pickled ginger to an ice-filled shaker
Shake vigorously until well-chilled, then strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with three slices of Japanese cucumber (Peruvian cukes work as well; you can also do one slice of the larger English cucumber if that’s all you have).
OK, NOW New York Is Really Back
It was a rainy night in Manhattan, but the sun was shining in our hearts as Philip Duff and I sauntered into the newly-reopened Hudson Malone, a compelling reason to drink in Midtown and one of the most pleasant places to spend a couple of hours anywhere in Manhattan. It’s run by Doug Quinn, a bartender of great renown who was a longtime fixture at PJ Clarke’s, a fixture on 55th & 3rd since 1884. He left Clarke’s under less-than-ideal circumstances but bounced back with Hudson Malone (named after his sons) just a few blocks away. An excellent F.U. move! He closed it up during the pandemic, and when he opened a new HM in Connecticut, we thought we’d seen the last of the original establishment. But it’s back, pretty much unchanged, still the platonic ideal of a classic saloon, with dark wood and dim-but-not-too-dim lighting and framed photos of old athletes, and just as terrific as ever. Philip and I christened the place with a Michter’s bourbon Manhattan (for me) and a Tanqueray martini (for him), and it felt like being home again.
Big Ups to Martiny’s
For those New Yorkers still smarting from the loss of the legendary East Village speakeasy Angel’s Share — which had almost a three-decade run before closing earlier this year — there’s some consolation in the fact that it still looms large over the Manhattan cocktail scene, both in influence and its alumni opening places of their own. Longtime head bartender Takuma Watanabe opened his own place, Martiny’s, last April, in a stunning renovated carriage house on a quiet side street off Irving Place. The frenzy that characterized Angel’s Share is replaced by a relaxed vibe with lower volume and more elbow room, which was totally fine by me and my cohort, the great journalist/booze writer/bon vivant Charles Passy. It meant we got to savor our drinks and banter with Takuma a little bit while we ate and drank. The cocktails were spectacular — my favorite was the Caprese. Who wants an alcoholic caprese salad in a glass? You will, after you try this amazing combo of whiskey, tomato water, grapefruit juice, basil and clarified milk. However you think it sounds on paper (or in pixelated form on your screen), the damn thing tastes delicious. I’ve been craving another ever since I drained the first, so I need to get back there pronto, for both drinks and sensational small bites including a masterful Wagyu beef tartare. If my mouth waters much more I’ll have to wipe the drool off the keyboard…. (Oh, and FYI, the signature “Great Martiny” isn’t actually a martini. It is a delicious drink, but you have been warned.)
What’s That Thing Floating in my Whiskey?!
Just looking at the bottle of Oak & Eden Wheat & Honey, I was turned off. “Honey-Soaked Oak?” “In-Bottle Finished?!” And then there was the matter of the mystery object floating amidst the booze. Sounded like a whole bunch of hooey to this old crank, and I lamented what could have been a perfectly good bottle of whiskey sullied by whatever the hell that… that thing floating therein could be. Turns out it’s a “honey-infused American oak spire” which is, I believe, toasted post-infusion, so it’s not like they’re shoving a stick dripping with honey into a bottle of wheated bourbon. At any rate, the effect is much more subtle than I’d feared — a touch of sweetness is evident, but this is nothing like Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey or any of those other honey liqueurs masquerading as whiskeys. In fact, it’s an excellent wheater — soft and creamy with a gentle spice, bottled at 90 proof — and a nice hint of honey that complements the bourbon without overwhelming it. I’m sure it’s pretty tasty in cocktails, but so far I’ve just been enjoying sipping it — and so has my wife, who serves as my backup boozy arbiter when I don’t trust my own instincts. So it’s two thumbs up — or is it four? — for Oak & Eden. Even though the stick in the bottle is still a little off-putting.