E
ven as someone who does most of his cocktail drinking at home, equipped only with my limited bottles and unlimited whimsy, I'm really digging Bend's boom in cocktail bars and revamped menus. For starters, they provide experiential research, which explains my attempts at homemade shrubs, syrups, extracts and infusions. From housemade fruit-infused vodkas to bacon-washed whiskeys, bartenders both pro and amateur continue to unleash pensive ingredients even the distillers haven't dreamt up. If I had to pick a favorite, which, luckily, I don't, it'd be Rancher Butcher Chef's smoked vermouth as featured in one of its signature cocktails, the Prescribed Burn.
It's essentially a smoky twist on a Manhattan. But not only is the cocktail not mega-new to Bend as it's been on the steak-centric bar and grill's menu since it opened just over a year ago, but it wasn't new itself, having been born as a drink called New Money from the cocktail list at Imperial, the Vitaley Paley-fronted Portland restaurant that shuttered a few months into the pandemic. Portland's loss is Bend's gain.
In more ways than one. At around the same time the vaunted Paley retired from the Portland restaurant and hospitality industry, so did John Gorham, meaning the city lost, arguably, its two biggest names. But Gorham relocated to Central Oregon, as did Paley Hospitality's co-owner and general manager, Garrett Peck. It's here where Gorham and Peck united and then conceived of RBC. Several elements from each's previous restaurants found new life in Northwest Crossing. (Toro Bravo's iconic potatoes bravas, for one). Mercifully, TCFKA (the cocktail formerly known as) New Money is among them. "When we put the drink program together here at RBC," says Peck, "we used some of the old faves from various bar programs we had in the past and tweaked names and ingredients to be more on brand with Central Oregon and RBC."
Prescribed Burn is inarguably the better name. Granted, "new money" is an incidental fact of life in Bridgetown, but prescribed burns are a vital fact of life in Bend. Moreover, the Bulleit Bourbon-based cocktail doesn't taste like ducats that the nouveau riche burn through, nor is Bulleit close to RBC's spendiest bourbon. Amaro is a key ingredient that lends the drink a peck of sweetness and an herbaceous smooch. (RBC's amaro list is 16 strong!) It's gilded with a splash of bitters. But the player that makes it sing is the house-smoked vermouth.
I don't find Cinzano on its own to be that inspiring, since the vermouths available to mixologists today have gone through quite the artisanal revolution. But what better way to revolutionize what vermouth can be than by taking one of the best-known (and budget-friendly) brands and giving it a fiery makeover, such that you wouldn't dare call it fortified wine?
And yes, the crew really does empty a couple bottles of the red vermouth into a pan to smoke it in-house. The result flits through the intersection of smoky and sweet. Think that doesn't sound good to you? I guess you don't like Kansas City barbecue. Or s'mores!
RBC itself operates in a unique intersection. It offers steak tartare and octopus a la plancha as well as some nearly $200 steaks (large enough to feed a family or make Joey Chestnut feel full), but it also offers spruced-up comfort food. I could subsist on the hushpuppies with jalapeno butter. And, IMHO, although the cost of RBC's bistro burger is in line with most food truck prices (when also accounting for bacon and a side of fries), it's the best in town (and this coming from a Dandy's diehard). But the rug that really ties the room together is the Prescribed Burn, all thanks to that smoked vermouth.
