star anise

Jesse and I dressed in comfortable, layered clothing and I donned my raincoat for good measure before we set out for the Jupiter Hotel, where we’d be meeting our distillery tour cohorts. The tour was arranged by the Willamette Week publication and would include 5 east side distilleries. The best part was that we would be ferried from location to location by an official Portland pedicab! For those of you not familiar with this type of vehicle, pedicabs are small 2-seater carriages pulled by a driver on a bicycle. Apparently this movement was launched in New York, which surprises me, just because it’s such a Portlandesque idea.

We arrived at the Jupiter right at 5:00pm, but then spent 15 or 20 minutes waiting for the band of pedicabs to arrive, after one suffered a slipped chain. Finally they arrived, rolling up in between the Jupiter and the Doug Fir, hip and focused, hardly seeming winded. We hopped in a covered carriage, manned by a skinny young man who wasn’t very interested in talking to us. The 12 or so other participants took their seats and the whole caravan rolled down the driveway and on to Burnside. We attracted much attention, eliciting honks and yells from vehicles and other bicycles passing by. Jesse took the liberty of screaming “SHOW OFF” at a bicycle that overtook us and our driver actually chuckled.

We arrived first at House Spirits, the interior of which was lined floor to ceiling with vintage looking bottles full of coppery whiskey or crystal clear liquors. Small displays hidden in shadowy corners offered bowls and tubs of raw ingredients to smell and feel. We spent some time sampling the distillery’s offerings, which included vodka, whiskey, aquavit, gin, ouzo, and more. We drank straight samples of each from tiny plastic cups before moving into the actual distillery room, where a few small snacks from The Farm were available. The owner gave an interesting lecture about the distilling processes and how various spirits are created. We were able to squeeze in a few more samples before the pedicabs arrived to carry us to our next destination.

Several blocks away was New Deal Distillery, which would wind up being my favorite by far. We entered a low-ceilinged yet airy warehouse with a small bar near the front, a few seats, and huge trays of mac & cheese from Le Bistro Montage in a far corner. Jesse and I tried not to sprint toward the food, loading up paper plates full of tasty “Old” and “Spold” (spicy-old) cheesy noodles. Once we’d stopped shivering with hunger, we were ready to beverage test.

I could tell right off the bat that New Deal’s offerings were going to be more my speed than the grown up selections at the previous location. We started by trying both of their two vodkas – one a “sipping” beverage and the other with a more serious bite. We had actually purchased the latter, the Portland 88 Vodka, in the past, but the toned-down “New Deal Vodka” was more delicious – all by itself.

We moved on to two infused vodkas, the amazing bittersweet chocolate “Mud Puddle” and the secret 5-chile blend “Hot Monkey.” We tried the seriously spicy variety both by itself and also paired with a soothingly balanced pineapple juice. Sweet and spicy were meant to be married.

Last, we tried a variety of “cellos” – including ginger (which stole Jesse’s heart), lemongrass, lavender, tangerine, and chamomile. These beverages offered the same sweet smoothness as a fruity cognac and I was immediately impressed, particularly by the tart tangerine. We then spent a while chatting with the somewhat shy and completely unpretentious owner, who was friendly, open, and appropriately proud of his products.

By this time night had fallen and we rode off in the evening darkness. Another few blocks away lie Integrity Spirits, a name some would later deem a mismatch, for no clear reason aside from their vibe. Their space was narrow and dim, the entrance lined by huge barrels stacked up to the ceiling. Fluorescent lights swung overhead, the eerie glow bouncing off barbed wire which lined the rolling gates protecting those precious barrels. We walked toward the inner depths of the long hallway, images of crumbly Saint Cupcake treats swirling in our minds, as we’d been told we could expect them.

A few oddball characters staffed a tiny bar and lingered in a back room. Jesse and I spotted the box of cupcakes as soon as we entered and headed straight for them. Tiny little cupcakes. One and a half bites each. A half-empty box containing about 10 little cupcakes, for more than 10 hungry people. Disappointment. My cupcake didn’t even have cream cheese frosting. Or red velvet innards, for that matter.

We watched the oddballs talk to each other, talk to us. We sampled….3 products, I think – a vodka, a gin, and Trillium absinthe (which I already knew I didn’t like). Oh, I forgot the second vodka – a hazelnut infused version – which didn’t really taste like hazelnuts whatsoever. At least the packaging is vintage cute... We then waited. And waited and waited. Pacing up and down the strangely lit hall. I noticed a fragile looking chess set precariously propped on a ledge and I imagined smashing a piece on the ground. So unlike me; I was losing my mind. So was the oldest man present, the one with the long hair. Into an enormous plastic neon cone he yelled, “WHERE ARE THE CUPCAKES?” It echoed. Cupcakes, cupcakes, cupcakes.

After a bunch more waiting, our pedicrew arrived. Our driver was a little more relaxed and we had an actual conversation with him. A short ride and we arrived at our fourth destination – Highball Distillery. A taller warehouse this time. Various wares for sale: jewelry, paintings of flowers. We had been warned about the samples of Missionary Chocolates which were purported to be “flakes” that melted on your fingers before reaching your mouth. They seemed more substantial than that.

A slippery sales representative was playing bartender, and we first tasted two different vodkas straight up. I didn’t want to drink any more vodka, but I didn’t want to be a poor sport either. We were then led in a circle around the room and by the time we got back to the bar (never having stepped more than 15 feet away from it), the sales rep was ready to dish out three cocktails crafted from the straight products we had first tasted.

Some people were already intoxicated somehow. They must have started drinking before they got to the Jupiter. We had two cold drinks involving simple syrups infused with autumnal spices, then a lavender hot chocolate. None of them were bad, per se, but I wouldn’t have been too pleased if I had ordered one in a restaurant and paid cash money for it.

Fortunately, by the time we wrapped up and got outside (I managed to snag an extra chocolate sample to give our pediguy as a peace offering), our peddlers were already waiting. We jetted over to the final location – Artisan Spirits, where we were greeted by a stout man wearing a nice cap and jacket.  His pleasant Russian bride had prepared dishes of pickled herring, halva, and rye bread, which supposedly pair famously with a good, needly vodka.

We sipped from fancy little plastic martini glasses and stood around in a big circle chatting with our host.  Artisan offers a couple inventive products, including a vodka distilled from honey and another from Oregon wines.  This particular batch was created from a Chardonnay base, and I wondered aloud (in a round about way) whether I'd enjoy a Syrah-distilled vodka a hundred times more.

At one point I noticed that one of the pedimen had slipped into the group and was standing on the other side of Jesse.  Still donned in his riding gloves, he held a sipping glass delicately at his chest, very interested in the conversation underway.  I snuck a photograph and the young man made a point to clarify with me that he was now off-duty.  Duly noted.

It was then time to return to the beginning, and to bid farewell to our new friends.  It was after 10:00pm as we sped through the emptying streets back toward the Jupiter Hotel.  We disembarked and headed out on our own, the hope for a real dinner the only thought in our minds.