7x7

val-eri, val-dera: a fantasy map that put the world’s tallest peaks side by side

downside up: excerpts from a 1984 film that shifts perspectives

still life: a podcast from NPR producer Ian Chillag whose guests are all inanimate objects, via Waxy

postdictive processing: an audio-visual illusion from Caltech researchers

theatrical properties: stories behind an assortment of iconic film props, via Miss Cellania

feet dragging: a look at America’s despicable inaction on climate change

petunias: a range of cocktails inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings 

moscow mueller

None of these Trump cocktails from McSweeney’s contributors Wendy Aarons and Mariana Olenko seem for anyone but your sturdiest of drinkers and may not be so effective for drowning one’s sorrows but the menu (both instalments) is certainly worth checking out. We especially liked The Harvey Wallbuilder: vodka, orange juice and Galliano l’Autentico, garnished with an IOU from Mexico—though now we’ve graduated to Impeachment & Cream.

state of inebriation

We are treated to another example of persuasive cartography (previously) in this 1931 map of the Isle of Pleasure published by Houston, Texas draughtsman and architect H. J. Lawrence, two years before the experiment with Prohibition in the United States (1920-1933).

Lawrence makes his opinion on the temperance movement and the constitutional amendment that outlawed alcohol fairly clear as he charts his longing to return to the days when liquor was free flowing and not something reveled in covertly and at a high premium due to the black market. Be sure to visit the link above to see more detailed insets and instructions for mixing some of the Prohibition-era cocktails referenced on the map.

shirley temple or taste/ip

Via the always discerning Nag on the Lake, we are introduced to a clever gadget—a virtual cocktail glass—that uses a combination of lights, wafting aromas and most importantly a mild electric stimulation to the tongue and taste buds to convince us we are experiencing flavours that aren’t really there. What do you think? This gustatory hallucination apparently can transform a glass of plain water into a fine scotch, and I suppose as the technique becomes more refined and shared widely, it will be able to recreate the most subtle notes and expressions for those who cannot or should not partake of adult-beverages and seems like a better substitute than having a mocktail.

burn after reading

To honour the conclusion of Sunshine Week, our intrepid friends at Muckrock—serial freedom of information act (FOIA) filers are kicking back the with the second best disinfectants—provocatively named cocktails to take the edge of redaction and glomarisation, like the Shirley Temple (Herbert Hoover style), Deep State, Intelligence Report, and We Were Never Here. I’d add Mistakes Were Made, and just need to figure out the ingredients.
The infuriating “Glomar response” is when the government declares its refusal to speculate on an ongoing investigation or address matters of national security and comes from the name of a salvage vessel that the Central Intelligence Agency commissioned to recover a sunken Soviet submarine in 1975. The plausibly deniable boilerplate that would go on to preface many more secrets went, “We can neither confirm nor deny the existence of the information requested but, hypothetically, if such data were to exist, the subject matter would be classified, and could not be disclosed.”

green fairy, ruby slippers

Nag on the Lake beckons to us to join her on the hunt for Italy’s answer to absinthe served up in a ruby red concoction called Tamango by a mysterious bar in Turin of the same name.
Just as one has to have reverence and respect for the Green Fairy, one also has to drink this signature cocktail very gingerly or face hallucinatory consequences. The travelogue is fraught with rather terrifying tales of patrons who failed to choose wisely. These poor souls could not straightaway click their heels together to go home. Cin cin!—but an abundance of caution is advised.

5x5

vapour-lock: intoxicating atmosphere of the breathable cocktail chamber

cachepots: origami planters that grow with the plants they hold

loving-cup: whimsical, personal hand-crafted trophies (not pictured)

shiver ye timbers: EU Pirate Partei representatives save freedom of panorama

dot-dash-diss: in 1903 a white-hat hacker disrupts Marconi’s telegraph demonstration, via Kottke

valance or tinley bar

Food Beast presents this brilliant and systematic presentation of classic cocktails arranged in Periodic Table form by designer Mayra Artes.

Click on the image to enlarge but be sure to visit the gourmand blog, as well. The columns are arranged by family of liquors and in descending order of alcohol content—thus chemical reactivity. I like how the Gin Group is located where one would find the Noble Gasses and the listing of the Rare-Earth elements. Here's a toast to the science of taxology. I think a perfect project for an expert cheesemonger (l'artisan fromager) would be to adapt families of cheeses to this format.

sympathetic resonance or the drink-whisperer

An intrepid roving reporter with The Atlantic magazine, after seeing bar-tenders in a trendy, stylo-milo joint in Vancouver, neither shook, nor stirred nor scuttled their signature martinis but rather tuned them with a tuning-fork of a certain pitch, is now experimenting with the method himself, with various cocktails and applications. Results so far seem inconclusive, but I rather like the idea that a particular harmonic vibration could be the proper and professional way to mix a good drink and really bring out the flavour and subtler notes. What do you think—is it just gimmicky and like water drawn during a full moon or magnetic insoles (which ought not to be dismissed out-of-hand either maybe) or might the right combination be struck?