Into the Drink

Need a new holiday tradition? Of course you don't. So do this instead:

Get your hands on two science fiction films from the 1950s, specifically, Creature from the Black Lagoon and Monster on the Campus. Then get your hands on a few of your favorite alcoholic beverages. Don't drink yet!

First a few words about these films.

Creature and Monster are united by their director, Jack Arnold. But they're two very different movies. 

Much like watching James Whale's Frankenstein, any reasonable viewer will root for the monster in Creature. The story concerns a crew of scientific researchers who find evidence of a missing link-type beast, an amphibious humanoid swimming the waters of the Amazon River. The men decide they need to bring the creature -- popularly referred to as the Gillman -- back to civilization for further research.

Naturally, Gillman does everything he can to avoid being kidnapped. Trouble is, Gillman can't stop oggling Julie Adams, the token damsel who enjoys leisurely swims in the Amazon.

About those swims: The underwater photography in Creature is just lovely. Arnold and cinematographer William E. Snyder use the swimming sequences like tension-filled ballets. Creature is fun on it's own, but it's also fun to look at.

Monster on the Campus packs a big mess of fun too, though it's hard to imagine, once you've seen it, that the same man directed this and Creature. The plot of Monster is simple: A scientist studying a coelacanth, the primitive fish long thought to be extinct, cuts his hand on the beast's fangs. Yadda, yadda, yadda, he transforms into an equally primitive primate and proceeds to terrorize various co-eds.

Modern sensibilities may cause us to giggle at Gillman's appearance. But the brute running around in Monster prompts guffaws. He's a sloppy blend of werewolf and Neaderthal. And that's cool. Monster on the Campus never reaches beyond it's B status. Audiences surely laughed when it raged across drive-in screens in 1958.

Now you have the movies and know a little bit about them, what to do with that booze? Reader, you are in for a treat as we instruct you in the ways of Jack Arnold's Double Feature Monster Creature Drinking Game. [caps ours]

Gather some friends and the liquor. Watch Creature first, because it's worth your (mostly sober) attention. Every time Gillman appears and that terrifying blast of trumpets plays, take a drink. When the scientist throws his cigarette into the Amazon, do a shot. Did Julie Adams just scream? Drink. Has she fainted in the grip of Gillman? Shot.

By the time the credits roll, your team will be properly lubricated to take on Monster on the Campus. No rules at this point, just make sure there are some snacks too and craft your own commentary as you go, or maybe try to remember how to spell coelacanth.

***BONUS CREATURE STUFF***

Though Creature from the Black Lagoon was released in 1954, the appearance and design of Gillman has become iconic enough that he's often referenced in popular culture as if he were part of the roster of classic Universal Monsters of the 1930s and early '40s. 

How iconic? He was painted by the amazing Basil Gogos:

Apple Is the New Pumpkin

Hard cider is everywhere and with it, apple-flavored malt beverages that are to cider what Pat Boone was to Little Richard.

Yet Shock Top beer, a craft-y arm of the Anheuser-Busch behemoth, did something that no other cider pretender has done. At least not that we've encountered.

Their Honeycrisp Apple Wheat brew combines a Belgian-style wheat beer with cider-ish flavor. A daring drinker could probably get the same effect, and maybe better results, by pouring specific amounts of a favorite wheat beer and a tasty hard cider into a mug without letting anyone else dictate the taste.

But Shock Top's effort does the work for you and the result is refreshing and not nearly as sweet as we anticipated. The wheat beer isn't as prominent, it's more like a cracker with a big slice of Granny Smith apple on it. And in a pleasant divergence from the typical big-brewery attack, the fruit isn't sticky with sugar.

It's worth a try for something different. The light, almost sour taste -- for the apple element is much closer to Granny Smiths than Honeycrisp -- made for a good contrast to the heavy, dark beers that stock shelves during the winter.

And ignore that ridiculous label too.

What're We Having?

Everybody's in a lather about pumpkin-spice/pumpkin-flavored things. We like actual pumpkin quite a lot, both savory and sweet. And we'll even entertain a pumpkin-infused coffee beverage now and then because, why not? We got nothing to prove.

However, there's more than one "flavor of autumn" and tasty fresh apples are part of that array. Fall is also a time for bourbon. So if pumpkin can be attached to all manner of food and drink in the name of seasonal spirit, why not apple?

Thus, we created a new cocktail that everyone at The Typing Monkey office has been enjoying. We're calling it Betty's Little Helper, in reference to and reverence for both Ms. Crocker and apple brown betty. Here's the recipe so you can mix one up for yourself:

Betty's Little Helper
1.5 oz bourbon
1.5 oz spiced apple cider, chilled
Club soda, chilled

In a 6 to 8 ounce tumbler, pour the bourbon and cider in together, then top it off with club soda. Don't bother with a top-shelf whisky. Buffalo Trace was what we had, and it's good for blending. Any mid-level sipper does the trick.

You'll want to go nuts with the cider though and get something quality. R.W. Knudsen Cider & Spice* is our favorite, as it's 100 percent juice and isn't overly sweet. The spice levels in Knudsen's brew are well balanced too -- a glass of the juice on its own tastes like a slice of homemade apple pie.

We put the bourbon in the freezer for an hour to make sure it was corpse-cold, but that's a personal preference. The club soda dials down the bourbon's bite and relaxes the cider's sweetness. Plus, the bubbles tickle our nose.

If fancy is your goal, add a cinnamon stick for garnish. And though we haven't tried it, a splash of Tuaca would make a Betty's Little Helper a la Mode. Scumps!



*Knudsen's label says their cider is "Prepared in the New England Tradition." We don't know what that entails so we'll just imagine it involves barrel presses and John Forsythe standing around in a sweater-vest, flirting with Shirley MacLaine.

... Y-O-U ... A-R-E ... D-R-U ... N ... K

We try not to hype consumer durables that we haven't personally tested on The Typing Monkey. But sometimes a product reaches us via advertising and just plain old PR reach, and we think decide to share it with our reader, untested.

Evil Spirits Distillery has devised a clever marketing scheme to sell their vodka, which may or may not be delicious. (It will most certainly get you drunk, but then so will Sterno.)

Regard:

Based on some of the photos posted at Who Forted? it looks like the "deluxe" bottle may come with an actual Ouija board. There's no indication how much it will cost, but we're sure it will be pricey. That's "perceived value" or some stuff. Ask your economics professor.


[Thanks to Who Forted? for bringing Evil Spirits to our attention. It's a fun blog with a regrettable name.]

We'll be right back after these messages.

Here she is now, the High Priestess of Soul:





Bonus drinking advice: Since the late 1990s, ordering a "Nina Simone" with breakfast in the TMI cafeteria means you get a small glass of red wine (usually cabernet franc or pinot noir) and a cup of strong black coffee. It's a real treat, and yes, we said breakfast.

A Fellow of the Fuzzy Sort

Summer break is over, mostly because we ran out of rum and some jerk from accounting couldn't hold his liquor. His negligence resulted in a band of raccoons getting all the hollowed-out pineapples we'd been drinking from.

To ease back into the grind, and let this hangover fade, enjoy the fun video from an album we reviewed.


Françoiz Breut - "Nébuleux Bonhomme" from charlie mars on Vimeo.

From the Vice Desk: Pop Open an Old One

The August issue of Smithsonian contains an interesting article about "experimental archaeologists" who work with local breweries in an attempt to recreate ancient alcohol recipes. The efforst are at least interesting, if not always appealing to our modern/Western sensibilities.


[A tipple to Arts & Letters Daily, once again.]

Yippee! Hooray!

On January 21, The Typing Monkey turned three. There were snacks and drinks and everything and in the excitement we didn't even put anything up here.

So treat yourself, as we did, and take a little click on over to Cosmic Hearse, which continues to entertain, educate and expand our musical horizons. In this case, it's The Ben Webster Quartet's Soulville album. Don't ignore Hearse driver Aesop Dekker's fun copy either. The man can put a sentence together.

We thought it was serendipitous that Ben Webster showed up on Cosmic Hearse since we just bought a copy of Ben and "Sweets" (Ben Webster and Harry "Sweets" Edison) a few weeks ago for the office. Mr. Webster's tenor sax sounds the way a well-made Manhattan tastes.

Do it. Come on. Do it.

From the Vice Desk

From our friends at Arts & Letters Daily come two entertaining stories:

Der Spiegel Online recently published an article about Patrick McGovern, an archaeologist from the United States who theorizes that our neolithic ancestors didn't start planting grain crops for bread -- the current accepted theory -- but rather for beer. Kind of changes the notion of the forbidden fruit, no? Read it here.

History Today has Lucie Skeaping's excellent explanation of the "jig" as it relates to Elizabethan theatre. What's a jig? At the turn of the 16th century it was a bawdy performance that went on after the more respectable stage show had ended.

Like network television and basic cable after prime time, Elizabethan theaters offered filthy songs and ribald dances for the giggling masses who knew to hang around for the second show. Get all the dirty details here.