The Greatest Fernet Story Ever Told?

Got this in the ol' inbox this week. It was so good, so wonderful, so utterly transcendent that it demanded to be shared, (almost) immediately, unedited and uncut. Without further ado, I present to you, the gentle reader...

 Well. That pic turned out a bit more sacreligious than I'd originally intended.

...The Greatest Fernet Story Ever Told (This Week So Far). Enjoy.

About a year ago I hosted an Argentine wine dinner with 5 courses paired with different Argentine wines. I couldn't find a proper wine to go with dessert so my liquor rep suggested the national drink of Argentina, Fernet Branca. She brought a bottle by to sample and we were both hooked. It really didn't go with the dessert [ED- Shocking!] but I knew it packed verve and would be very memorable to our 80 guests. The dinner went fantastic and I introduced Fernet to everyone, gave a toast and we did our Fernet (sans ginger chaser) together and as you can imagine it was a polarizing experience.  All in all, great night of food, wine and Fernet. 

 So the real story begins post-dinner.  These two girls persuaded me to do shots of Fernet with them. I was feeling Euphoric from the great evening and we ended up doing NINE shots.  I think I forgot to mention that I had to be at the airport at 5:30 am the next morning (or maybe it was this morning) as I was a chaperone on my daughter's 8th grade trip to Washington, DC.....I actually passed out from the indulgence much to my wife's displeasure and had to be carried to the car and poured into bed. [ED- This has never happened to me. Ever.]

I was kinda/sorta unresponsive when my wife and daughter tried to wake me at 3:00 am and after repeated attempts to get me up, they realized it wasn't gonna happen. I woke from my comatose state at 8:00 am and was a little fuzzy but amazingly had no hangover! 

I knew I had to be somewhere and thought everyone had overslept but me. So I got a text from my beautiful daughter Claudia that said "I still love you" and knew I was in trouble. Then I got a phone call from my wife and she didn't still love me!! However, she arranged a flight later that day (for an extra $400 thank-you very much) and arrived at the hotel just as the Redeemer Lutheran School 8th grade class was getting back from the nighttime monument tour. Of course they all knew what happend to me (even the ticket agent at the airport knew!) but I was going to make the best of a bad situation and became the friggin' best 8th grade chaperone anyone has seen. Volunteered for every detail no one wanted and at the end became great friends with the teacher and all the students thought I was the "cool" chaperone. I owe it all to Ferent Branca.

 Let this be a lesson to you, my friends: NOTHING BAD CAN HAPPEN TO YOU when two (or more) girls "persuade" you to do shots of Fernet Branca. It's like Spanish Fly, except instead of helping you get laid, it helps you get awesome. Also, your family will love you forever. The End.

Or not quite the end. Our contributor tacks on with an extra special Places You Can Get Fernet:

I'm the biggest supporter of Fernet in the Panhandle and if you ever get to Pensacola, Florida stop by Seville Quarter for some Fernet at End O' The Alley Bar. We are the leader in NW Florida (not saying much) and are very proud to be in the "know" of this incredible (in moderation) elixir.

 

Bill Carlson

Seville Quarter

Pensacola, FL

You hear that Pensacolans? (Pensacolians? Pensacolas? Pensacolacicles?) End O' The Alley is your new Home Base. Get to it, people. Oh, and one more note from Mr. Carlson...

ps. The staff has nicknamed Fernet "Kill Bill" in homage to me. You got to be known for something in your lifetime!

  I'll leave the MSPainting up to y'alls.

Amazing. Simply, amazing. Many, many thanks. 

Any other Entries from readers as to your Greatest Fernet Stories? Come on, San Franciscans. I know you've got 'em. Sharing is caring.

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Filed Under: MSPaint Skillz, The Greatest Fernet Story Ever Told This Week So Far, Places you can get Fernet, Hangover Freedom, Florida, Yes I know I'm going directly to hell

Fernet On Tap is a Real Actual Thing

I can swear to the above statement in a court of law. Because last night, I ventured all the way over to the expensive side of the City to Bullitt and saw it with my very own eyes. It was glorious.

Hella OMGs!

Let's get a close-up view on that bad boy.

Yep. That's right. It's an an adorable wee lil Fernet bottle stuck on a tap. And that tap dispenses Fernet. It's like a unicorn gumdrop fountain made of $100 bills. Too good to be real. If they had one of these at The Homestead I'd probably try to move in.

Unfortunately, they don't have one at The Homestead or anywhere else in my general area, so I'm forced to go all the way to Fernet Central/Russian Hill to sample Fernet On Tap. Russian Hill is A) pretty far from me, and B) basically the Marina. More on B) later, but let's just say I'm glad they weren't checking neighborhood passports too closely.

So what did Fernet On Tap taste like? To be honest, it tasted a heck of a lot like regular Fernet. It may have been slightly more "open" and a tiny bit less sharp, but it was still Fernet so it still had plenty of prickliness to spare. Theresa, our ever-present companion and photographer, said it tasted "warmer". I think that's right, though none of the variances are present to a large extent. Bottom line: you really have to work hard to taste the difference.

This should not be a surprise. Fernet does not exactly present the subtlest of flavor palates. You can fuss with the margins all you like, but you're not going to alter the big picture a whole bunch. Fernet On Tap will still walk up to you and slug you in the face just like Fernet Not On Tap will. The only difference may be in the exact angle of the right cross.

I don't have much more to say about Bullitt itself, so allow me to comment on Russian Hill in general. First, this is the window of the bar right next door from Bullitt:

Yes, that's a gigantic bottle of Fernet-Branca with branchy tree-like things growing out of it. Well, OK. Cheers to you Cresta's 2211 Club. Your window display is beautiful like a rainbow.

Secondly, upon leaving Bullitt and heading back up Polk street towards my friend Such A Clatter's car, we passed yet another bar. Out from said bar came stumbling a prototypical Marina DudeBrah. He wasn't wearing an Ed Hardy T-Shirt, but I can only assume that was because he was at the end of a laundry cycle. At any rate, he stumbled up to our band of merry folks, nudged me on the elbow and pointed across the street towards an attractive young lady in the crosswalk.

"Hey man," he slobbered. "Wouldn't you like to get up inside that?"

Somewhat stunned, I laughed it off and said "Oh yeah, man. Absolutely."

She had apparently heard the exchange and was obviously smitten by the high compliment paid to her by our unnamed drunkard, because she turned towards us, raised a heavily manicured hand and went "WOOOOO!!!!"

Ahh, young love. You stay classy, Russian Hill. 
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Filed Under: OMG OMG OMG, Best McQueen Tribute Evar, Russian Hill, DudeBrahs, Fernet Foto File, MSPaint Skillz, Fernet On Tap, Actual research-like substance.

Adventures in Internet Blogging, Pt. I.

Hello gentle readers. Allow me to take a small break from your regularly scheduled travelin' and boozin' and researchin' about boozin' to peel back the curtain a little bit on some of the subtleties of having a "web log".

Folks who have had a blog know that whether you're trying to scratch out a living or you're just starting out at some point the amount of traffic you get on a day-to-day basis becomes something of an obsession. I can't say exactly why it happens for those of us who aren't ever planning on making any money off blogging. It's probably narcissism (or at least that's the explanation with which I'm most comfortable.)

Regardless, this obsession is a universal thing. Bloggers pore over their traffic numbers like they're religious screeds. They analyze and determine the types of posts that are the most popular (here at Fernetiquette these babies are by far the most google friendly) and the posts that no one bothers reading at all (basically everything else.) This is a daily ritual, and for most of us it's a sad, silent struggle against sanity.

However, one of the great joys of compulsively checking your traffic numbers is seeing exactly how people stumble upon your site. The average reader may not know this, but when you load Fernetiquette I can see a whole lot about you. Not only do I get information on how many people view my page, but I am told those visitors' locations, their browser settings and how long they spend on my site before clicking off to look at lolcats. Most interestingly, I am also told the link that brought you here. I ALSO see it when people find me through a google search and I see what the google search was that drew the hit. As you can guess, google searches are often pretty funny.

For example, last Friday I posted this about the Eastern Standard in Boston, Mass. Because no Fernetiquette post would be complete without pithy, immature tag I slapped one on the bottom of it that said "Tom Brady is a Handsome Man." I did this for a few reasons. One because before Tom Brady was the quarterback for the Patriots, he played for Michigan.

Proof

As I explained in the True Faqs, I am a rabid Michigan Football fan. It is also true that Tom Brady is in fact quite handsome.

Proof pt. II. You know you want him.

Astute readers will note that my description of the Eastern Standard's "Heather in Queue" cocktail used the word "foxy". Less than an hour after throwing that baby up, I got a hit from someone in South Korea who had apparently googled "Tom Brady foxy". I found this amusing. You may find this sad or unremarkable, but this gets back to the Pathetic Life of Your Poor Blogger.

Along similar lines someone in Pinole, CA recently found me through this search, which ha ha google suggestion lulz.

Not quite as tasty. Or dangerous.

But my absolute favorite example of this phenomenon so far is the apparent confluence of this post about Varnish in Los Angeles and this one about the Football cocktail which produced a google result for Fernetiquette when someone searches for (I kid you not) "homemade cream for décolletage". Insert relevant picture here:

Insert inappropriate joke here.

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UPDATES! So speaking of The Eastern Standard, behold the Power of the Twitternets!

Re-tweet away, minions!

To say that the post on Friday was the Most Popular Fernetiquette Post ever is a bit of an understatement. Someone in Boston found it Monday morning, tweeted about it and BOOM this blog hit triple-digit page loads for the first time in its young life. And there was much rejoicing.

There was also some helpful clarification. In the comments to that post, Frederic answers our question about Ms. Heather:

This cocktail is named for a regular Friday-night customer who was standing “in queue” when Jackson created this drink for her as a replacement for the Hoskins, “as I was running out of the then famous 164-bottle stash of Amer Picon that I picked from a dusty corner of the Martignetti warehouse.”

More at the Drink Boston link, which Frederic also helpfully provides. FWIW, My friend Aly who lives in Boston but is unfortunately not a Fernetophile had this to say about The Eastern Standard:

The Eastern Standard is the only good place to get a drink in the Fenway area. It's near the park, but manages to stay douche bag free.

So there you have it. More Fernet, Fewer Douchebags. How can you go wrong?
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Filed Under: meta, The Pathetic Life of Your Poor Blogger, Tom Brady is a handsome man, Boston, these are a few of my favorite things, All Your Updates, Fellow Travelers, MSPaint Skillz

Fernetiquette Fashion Etiquette: 2010 SF Giants Edition

Dear Giants, please pay attention.

 

The new striped socks are 100% pure awesome. 

They even make this guy look good!

Couldn't be happier with them. Honestly. 

On the other hand...

 

 Oh dear.

The new Friday night beer league softball jerseys? Um. No. Not at all. 

Got it? Good.

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Filed under: Posts about the Giants, Sartorial atrocities, HUR HUR ZITO'S CROTCH HUR HUR, MSPaint Skillz

Branca Menta: Is it the Devil?

Today we look at one of many pictures of Fancy Fernet Adverts taken by our lovely traveling correspondent. But unlike the rest of her handiwork, this is not a picture of something delicious or art deco-y or exciting. Nay, my friends. This is a picture of something that Your Fernetiquette is here to warn you sternly to avoid. That thing is the Emerald Evil known as Branca Menta.

The ad is from Argentina. The Limon is apparently from Peru.

Many* of my American readers are probably thinking to themselves: "Branca Menta? What is this thing that I have never heard of or tried as it is neither hip nor offered in any bar or restaurant ever? I am SO CONFUSED." So for them, allow me to explain: Branca Menta is the Branca distillery's spin off of their wonderful Fernet-Branca.

It's not a good spinoff like A Different World. No, it's the Saved by the Bell: The College Years of Italian bitters. Except eeeevil.

Artist's rendering

I was first exposed to Branca Menta a few years ago when I noticed that the corner store on my block was selling bottles. Intrigued, I shelled out the $26.99 + tax and crv. It looked something like this.

Non-artist's rendering

Now, I (obviously) love me some Fernet. But I also looooove all things mint. Peppermint, spearmint, whatevermint... it doesn't matter, I am in and can't get enough. I take Altoids three at a time. Last year for Christmas, the ladyfriend got me a five pound brick of Ghirardelli Peppermint Bark. This year, my stocking consisted of nothing but mint candies and those adorable wee lil Fernet bottles. True story.

Point is I'm a fan of mint, see.

My favorite way to induce massive stomach cramps

Given my proclivities, I naturally assumed that the Fernet + Mint combo in Branca Menta would be like washing my tongue in pure, uncut awesome. Um... not so. Rather than finding a way to pleasantly accentuate the naturally minty-esque flavor of Fernet Branca, it tastes like they just melted in some cheap green mint chip ice cream and called it a day. Whereas Fernet-Branca is a stark herbacious punch to the palate, Branca Menta is a sickly, filmy, vaguely creamy thing with none of the verve or panache of the original. And I hated it.

I was so disgusted by the stuff that had to pawn the bottle off on a friend who mixed it with some PBR as we watched college football.

Friend not pictured

Still, this stuff is obviously quite popular in Argentina or they wouldn't bother advertising it. Maybe it would go better with cola or lemon-lime soda, but the experience was so hugely disappointing that I figured the only way I'd ever try Branca Menta again would be if I did something monumentally stupid like start a dumb blog about the Branca company's primary product.

So obviously, I've got some work to do. Sigh.

 

Adorable wee lil Branca Menta bottle! Evil can be cute too.

*This is a lie. I do not have many readers.

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Filed under: fernet adverts, Branca Menta is the devil, Those adorable wee lil fernet bottles, MSPaint Skillz, The Argentine Menace, no seriously it's the devil

Contemplating the Oakland Athletics of San Jose in the Long Dark Tea Time of the Offseason

Despite promising to from the very beginning, I’ve yet to write about anything but our Bitter of Choice. The FerneTyranny ends now(!) with a piece about… the Oakland A’s!?

Make no mistake my friends, Your Fernetiquette is no Athletics fan. Nay, the blood in my veins is black as pitch and orange as uh… an orange. I’ve considered legally changing my name to Mrs. Tim Lincecum IV, Esq. I recently saw Pablo Sandoval order a sandwich at a local Subway and freaked out like a little girl and mass texted everyone I knew. Point is I’m a San Franciscan and a Giants fan. I only concern myself with the A’s when I’m talking friendly smack with my A’s fan friends or they’re crushing us in a championship series. Thankfully for me the former happens far more often than the latter. The rest of the time I could not care less about them. I acknowledge that they are a solid franchise with a great history, but they’re also one which is pretty easy for me to ignore (I’m not the only one, as evidenced by their “attendance”. ZING~!)

Fan Appreciation Day at the Coliseum!

To this day it honestly perplexes me as to why Oakland fans in general have such fervent animosity towards the Giants. The clearest example of this was that almost every A’s fan I knew rooted for Anaheim against San Francisco in the 2002 World Series, even though

A) Anaheim and Oakland are in the same division and routinely beat each others’ brains out,
B) they were rooting for effing SoCal over their Northern California brethren, and
C) if another converse World Series happened (A’s-Dodgers), every Giants fan alive would slather themselves in green and yellow while making daily human sacrifices at the altar of Vida Blue to prevent another blasphemous Dodger world title.

Nevertheless, when the Giants ended up losing, I had to put up with more razzing from A’s fans than I did from Dodgers or Angels fans. Which: annoying! (True fact: When I asked my A’s-fan brother-in-law why this was the case, he responded with a straight face that the A’s and Angels “aren’t really division rivals.” Hand to Mays, he said it.)

Blessed be His name

 
Anyway, in general I don’t get it. HOWEVA, when it comes to the whole “Giants-blocking-the-A’s-theoretical-move-to-San Jose” thing, the vitriol begins to make sense. Look, far be it from me to deny that the Giants have legal territorial rights over San Jose under their agreement with Major League Baseball. The Giants paid for them and the A’s didn’t, so neener neener. That said, rather than getting the City Attorney of San Francisco to throw his weight behind preventing the move wholesale, why don’t we just use this to work something out? After all, no one wants to be forced to live in Oakland so forcing them to stay is unnecessarily cruel. We just have to use a little leverage, baby. Leverage. Given that the Giants literally bid against themselves to re-sign Barry Bonds every 5 years I know this is sort of a foreign concept to Sabean, so I’ll lay it out slowly.

Below the jump, allow me to present you with my ransom note list of demands in exchange for relinquishing the San Jose territory and allowing the A’s to move to Silicon Valley. If Beane and the boys can agree to this list, then the Siege of San Jose is over and the entire city of Oakland is free to re-locate south. So without further ado: