Cascadia's new cocktail menu includes a classic called Satan's Whiskers, a combination of gin (high-end Plymouth, ideally), sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, orange juice, Grand Marnier and (very important) orange bitters. All ingredients I'm very fond of, so let's go for it.

Bartender Michael Candelaria, long a master of his craft, builds the drink with care, measuring precise amounts of liquor into an empty glass, squeezing fresh juice, then adding ice cubes and shaking vigorously. Wrong! Drink comes out "broken," full of ice crystals that remind me of glass shards at the scene of a car wreck. On second attempt, Michael stirs the ingredients together with stern determination rather than frenzy. Much, much better.

My own sense is that some liquors, like vodka (the iceberg lettuce of spirits) deserve to be shaken within an inch of their lives, cracking all the ice and giving the customer the sensation of drinking a boozy Slurpee. More sophisticated drinks, no way. But

I checked my hunch with two of the best.

Reports Robert Hess, author of DrinkBoy.com and historian of the cocktail:

"Stirring a drink is never the "wrong" thing to do, but shaking it can be. The main rule of thumb for shaking instead of stirring is that if the drink has all clear ingredients (Martini, Manhattan), then it should be stirred so that the final drink can pour crystal clear into the glass.

"If the drink has opaque ingredients (cream, lemon juice, or egg white), then it should be shaken, since nothing you do will prevent it from being "cloudy". Thus a Satan's Whisker is fine to shake. "That said however there are proper and improper ways to both shake and stir. It is possible to stir so aggressively that it is essentially the same thing as shaking. And it is also possible to shake so aggressively it is almost the same thing as putting it in a blender. (ok, perhaps not quite "that" bad, but you get the point).

"Sasha Petraske owner of Milk & Honey in New York, takes both ice, and shaking seriously. Some might say too seriously. He uses those big square ice cubes, and trains his bartenders to shake hard, but not "too" hard. They listen carefully as they shake, and are specifically trying to avoid "breaking" any of the ice cubes. If they do, they are supposed to toss the drink and start over. "Many customers however have not only gotten used to, but anticipate, the floating ice shards in their cocktails and feel that this is an important quality which should be promoted instead of avoided.

"Ideally, the bartenders should be seen as "knowing" the drinks they are making and know exactly which ones to stir/shake, and precisely how to do it in order to end up with the best possible results."

Says Murray Stenson, barman extraordinaire at the Zig Zag Cafe:

"I often order the classic Manhattan, which should be stirred. Sometimes they've been served understirred, resulting in a tepid cocktail. I've had them served with a hard shake that resulted in a cloudy cocktail that had a foamy head, good to the last drop. A couple times I've had a moderate shake that produced a cold drink that cleared by the time it was set in front of me. So it kinda depends!

"Ironically, one of the worst cocktails I've ever experienced was at Milk and Honey in NYC. Amy and I watched in dropped-jaw amazement as the tall, lanky bartender did a one handed hard, hard Holy Roller shake for 30 seconds. Impressive floor show that resulted in the thinnest watery drink possible. The drink (the Last Word) was not worth the $15, but the bartender's floor show was. And this was in one of the best bars in the US.

"Also, with shaken drinks it depends on the straining method. Most bartenders will use a Hawthorne strainer, some a Julep strainer. But there is a growing contingent of bartenders that just break the shaker seal and "strain" the drink between the glass and tin, allowing the bigger ice shards to get into the drink."

In any event, Cascadia's chef Kerry Sear says they've now decided to stir rather than shake most of the classic cocktails, unless the customer expresses a preference.

Once again, it's all a matter of taste. Gotta know yourself first, and the bar of life is a good place to start.

So I wander into ZigZag the next night and plop myself down at the bar. As usual, I tell Murray what I've had to drink so far (a Negroni), and he suggests a Boulevardier. Well! Seattle Magazine called me "Belltown's Boulevardier" earlier this year, so Boulevardier it had to be.

I'm not really a bourbon fan, but I did like the distinct bass note that the bourbon provided, was grateful for the orange bitters, and asked only for a splash more Campari to make the drink perfectly balanced for my palate. Dude to my right, having finished his cocktail, asks Murray to make him the same thing. Then we got to talking, and everyone mentioned Paul Clarke's recent item on his blog, CocktailChronicles. "Yeah, Paul really liked that," says Murray.

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Braiden Rex-Johnson's new book, Pacific Northwest Wining & Dining, is a fine complement to Kurt Dammeier's Pure Flavor (reviewed in our September column). It includes affectionate portraits of leading players (wine makers Bob Betz Kay Simon, and Marry McWatters); unique restaurants, cooking techniques, and recipes. Rex-Johnson, whose previous books include the iconic Pike Place Market Cookbook, writes a food and wine column for Wine Press Northwest and served as food editor at Seattle Homes and Lifestyles.

This volume, part of a series of regional books published by John Wiley, doesn't quite come together. Nick Peirano of Nick's Italian Cafe in McMinnville, unofficial headquarters of the Oregon wine industry, suffers getting his name misspelled. A two-page introductory essay, "What Is Northwest Cuisine?" looks like it was written by an editorial intern in New York ("emerging wine industry" my foot). The table of contents is limited to twelve sub-regions (Seattle & Environs is one, Woodinville another); the index includes a "Wineries" heading but no "Restaurants." To make up for the lapses, there are stories like Earl and Hilda Jones's quest for tempranillo, the primacy of climate, and the amazing results: Abacela Winery.

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A far more complete wine book is Paul Gregutt's Washington Wines & Wineries: The Essential Guide. Not that Gregutt covers every single winery in the state; he limits himself to the best 100. Most importantly, he also picks the top vineyards, since nothing a winemaker does in the cellar will improve on the raw materials.

In all wine writing, the thing to watch out for is a philosophy that equates winemaking with watchmaking, that wine is something that must needs be "crafted." The "watchmaking" part is the discipline, the intellectual rigor, the sanitation. And, yes, the humility. And humility's what's missing at a lot of wineries. Not just those in Washington, mind you.

He gets the history right. He doesn't fall into the oak-lined trap laid by monster wines. He values longevity, solid science and craftsmanship. Yes, he hands out scores, but they're almost irrelevant. At about the same time Gregutt's book was released, Robert Parker's influential newsletter, The Wine Advocate, came out with a major piece on Washington wines, written not by Parker but by a recently promoted associate, Dr. Jay Miller. Miller knows little about Washington wine and is unfamiliar with the region's history, culture, winemaking traditions, or people. He sprayed high scores with abandon, sometimes making no sense at all (Walla Walla doesn't grow syrah, dude). The industry jumped on the article like thirsty camels, sucking up the Wine Advocate's praise for "Washington Wine" and touting Parker scores. But they weren't Parker scores, they were Jay Miller scores. And they were, Gregutt points out, essentially meaningless.

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Kat Flynn

There's also a trio of books by women who cook and write. All are first-person "coming of age" stories by women who were journalists before they became foodies-the chef, the waitress, the survivor.

Kat Flynn leads things off with The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry. A journalist and Seattle native, she'd been working as an editor for an Internet publisher in London, got laid off, and decided to use her severance pay for tuition at Le Cordon Bleu, the prestigious culinary school in Paris. Her boyfriend soon joins her, and they have a great time learning how to cook. We watch Kat fillet a sea bass, dispatch a live lobster, rip the tendons from a guinea fowl. We watch her drink cold Chablis in an apartment overlooking Paris streets; we watch her sip Champagne at three-star Ledoyen. Living, Kat points out, requires that you taste, taste, taste.

In Service is subtitled Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter. Nonsense. Not a single overheard secret makes its way into these pages. Phoebe Damrosch, a child of privilege, had a Master's in Fine Arts in fiction writing from Sarah Lawrence and was living in New York, waiting on tables to support herself. She drools over the French Laundry Cookbook, and when the call comes for front-of-house staff at Per Se, she's ready. A full month of rigorous training follows; then the opening is delayed by a kitchen fire. She falls for one of the sommeliers, Andre, whose love of wine and tasting expertise became his ticket out of the slums of New Orleans. Phoebe is quickly promoted to Captain and waits on the New York Times reviewer, Frank Bruni. Four stars! Soon Phoebe and Andre settle into the easy life of restaurant workers: late nights and revelry fueled by relatively large amounts of ready cash.

My sentimental favorite is Gluten-Free Girl by Seattle writing instructor Shauna James. For the first decades of her life, she's not particularly happy nor particularly healthy. One day she hears about a condition called celiac disease: an allergy to gluten. Bingo! Shauna starts a blog, glutenfreegirl.com, which takes an unexpected turn when she starts to date. An optimist, she tattoos "YES" on her wrist. No dice, until the day before her online dating subscription expires, she gets an email from Dan Ahern, executive chef at Impromptu in Madison Park. It's love at first sight. The whole time, she continues writing her blog, occasionally making reference to her friend, the Chef. But most of the book, Gluten-Free Girl, is chatty recipes, no doubt helpful for sufferers of celiac disease. I liked the love story that forms the bookends a lot more interesting, and better written, too.

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An outfit called "Not For Tourists" has just published a guide to Seattle. It's a handsome book, looks just like Moleskine journal, complete with oilcloth cover, fat elastic closure, gorgeous paper. The Seattle version is tenth in a series, cobbled together by a design staff in faraway Noo Yawk with input by a locally based "city editor" named Fred Beldin, who contributes occasional music reviews to the Stranger.

NFT Seattle starts out with a grid of 49 neighborhoods (Belltown to Redmond), each with a map that mashes up Essentials (banks, car rental, coffee, community gardens, gas stations, landmarks, parking, pharmacies, post offices and schools) with Sundries (copy shops, gyms, liquor stores, movie theaters, nightlife, pet shops, restaurants, shopping and video rental stores). Copy-wise, each nabe also gets a couple of 60-word blurbs. According to Beldin (I guess), Belltown was "formerly seedy... but don't fret, heroin can still be scored on the proper street corners." Other advice: "Shorty's is the closest thing to heaven in Seattle"... "Shop with all the cool kids at I Heart Rummage." And that's just Belltown, but without the links.

Each Essential and Sundry then gets a breakout with repeats of addresses (a total of 4,152 listings) and a breezy, snide, sarcastic or cynical comment. Hempfest: "Who can think about politics after a few of those brownies?" Bite of Seattle: "Showcase for local culinary excellence." (Maybe they served leftover brownies?) It calls Flexcar "Flex Car" and complains that it has only 100 vehicles; in fact, there are some 300 in the Seattle market. And some nabes (like top of Queen Anne and Ballard) get short shrift; others include listings for long-shuttered restaurants.

The problem with a 374-page book like this is that it's out of date even before it goes to press (and, yes, it was printed in China). It's not so much a 2008 guidebook as a 2006 directory, and it's competing with much more current information online (CitySearch, AOL's CityGuide, NWSource, UrbanSpoon, even Yelp). Ah, but wait: not to be outdone, NFT Seattle has a website of its own! In fact, the whole book is online, though only as PDF pages. It's possible, if you're patient, to find live links to major sports facilities, though not to Metro or to Flexcar.

So it's a good thing NFT included a baker's dozen categories in an "Ultimate Web Index." Seattlest.com makes the cut (of course), but they get onto really shaking ground with the Food & Drink category. Four sites, and the only food blog is Seattle Bon Vivant. Nothing against Viv, but, gee, her most recent post was back in September. And before that, mid-August. What about Accidental Hedonist, Orangette, Gluten-Free Girl, Roots & Grubs, Eating Seattle, Hogwash, TastingMenu, DeliciousCity, or even Cornichon, for crying out loud. Hey, Beldin! Wake up over there! Your own blog hasn't been updated since May!

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Meanwhile, more about Flexcar. State bureaucrats went back to calling Flexcar a "car rental company." It's not. It doesn't rent cars to the public. It's an association whose members share cars. Not a fussy, semantic question, either; the state gets an extra ten percent tax on fees if gets away with classifying Flexcar alongside Hertz. Gov. Gregoire thought this was stupid on its face, but she couldn't convince her own Dept. of Revenue. Mind you, this isn't about paying sales tax, as some have said, but the supplemental tax on rental cars charged to out-of-towners. By definition, Flexcar members are local. First the state said it would impose the tax, then it said it would hold off, now it says there's no way around it without a directive from the Legislature. Geez, what a no-brainer. But don't hold your breath; the folks in Olympia seem somewhat preoccupied. Besides, Steve Case (founder of AOL, who bought the company a couple of years ago), has apparently grown tired of the whole thing. Word came last night that he's sold Flexcar to rival Zipcar. Official spin is that it's a merger, but headquarters moves to Boston shortly. Guess it's time for a new NFT entry.

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Aw geez. Another noble Seattle name goes into the toilet. Redhook Brewery, the brand launched by Paul Shipman and Gordon Bowker more than 25 years ago, will become part of a corporate entity called Craft Brewers Alliance after it takes over Portland-based Widmer Brothers for a reported $50 million.

Names are terribly important, as Bowker would tell you himself, were not the most modest of men. It was Bowker, a Ballard native, who co-founded and named Starbucks. It was Bowker, the journalist for the original Seattle Magazine, who helped David Brewster launch Seattle Weekly. And it was Bowker, along with Chateau Ste. Michelle marketing manager Paul Shipman, who co-founded and named Redhook. (Remember that old Rainier Beer commercial, with the motorcycle shifting? Raaay-Neeeeeer-Beeer. It's on YouTube, if you haven't seen it. That was Bowker, too.)

Oh, sure, there was some grumbling when Anheuser-Busch bought a one-third interest in the company some years back, but that was done to get into Budweiser's national distribution system. And they'll keep the brand names like Redhook ESB and Widmer Hefeweizen that the founders worked so hard to establish, along with the stock-exchange symbol HOOK. For now. But a quarter-century after that first, banana-flavored "Belgian" brew flowed from the tap in a converted machine shop on Leary Way, it seems that yet another northwest icon has been lured down the slippery slope of commercial success. More power to them all, big payday, bravo, I guess.

The news happens to coincide with latest results from competitor Pyramid, taking a big hit from legal settlements but staging its Snow Cap Ale anniversary party in October anyway. And our own downtown Pike Brewery, owned by Shipman's former Ste. Michelle colleague Charles Finkel and his wife Roseanne, is going gangbusters. Cheers to you, Finkels, for having the energy to reclaim the company you founded, and keeping your commitment to genuine craft beer.

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Belltown Buffet:

¡Mira! is no more. Not even the upside-down exclamation point was able to save it from the subterranean location (basement of the Labor Temple). Intrepidly going where others have failed is the Middle-Eastern Zaina, installing a clone of its Pioneer Square falafel stand in Belltown. Cafe Minnie's is no more. Belltown's greasiest greasy spoon, and only 24-hour joint at that, was finally done in, not by crappy food and crappy service but by the ban on indoor smoking. That's the owner's story, and he's sticking to it.

Now, the guys behind the Virginia Inn know all about smoke-free. Never allowed a leaf or a curl in the joint since the mid-1990s. And are they crying? Nope! They're taking over the former gallery space next door and building themselves a full-fledged kitchen. Follow the details at VirgniaInnSeattle.com.

Finally, Visions of Sugarplums at The Local Vine. It's a $12 cocktail, available only on Wednesday, Dec. 19, from 6 to 8, and it will accompany a sort of bottle-autograph party by Jamie Moyer. (The bottles will come from the shelves of the wine bar.) The former Mariner pitcher is quite a wine connoisseur, and 25 percent of the proceeds go to his charitable foundation.

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Ronald Holden, dubbed "Belltown's Boulevardier" by Seattle Magazine, welcomes news and comments from foodies and feeders (write to ronald@inyourglass.com).