 
 "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
An Olympic cocktail. Eric Felten has a fascinating article in the Wall Street Journal about the history of drinking and cocktails in the Olympics (I love that Frank Sinatra wanted to start an Olympic Drinking Team). There's even a yummy-looking cocktail recipe, which I'll post here; read it soon, as the article will go away in a few days.
We had one last night. Very lovely. If any of y'all have an Olympic cocktail of your own, or are inspired to create one, please post it in the comments! Whiskies (and a Cognac) You've Never Tasted. The seminars continue at Tales of the Cocktail ... after thoroughly enjoying our first seminar with the renowned Paul Pacult, we decided to try another, the one of the above title. Actually it was just called "Whiskies You've Never Tasted" in the course description, but if you read the fine print they slipped a Cognac in there too. "Tasting will cover the differences in top-end bourbon, Irish, single malt and blended Scotch as a way of describing top quality in various expressions. Attendees will be among a select few to taste the rare, unparalleled whiskey expressions" of the spirits offered. Um ... sign me up. Wes and I managed to score front-row seats, and were greeted by a pretty sight: Oh my. Let's go through what we tasted:
All that for a $40 seminar ticket. Not bad. And no, I didn't spit any of it out, but I prepared myself for this that day, and wasn't planning to have Jeff Berry and Wayne Curtis kill me with kindness and volumes of rum later in the evening either. I was just following the lead of our teacher, who said, "I ain't spittin' any of this stuff out today!" 
Cocktail garnishes gone mad. I'm all for bringing up the cocktail experience to its best heights, primarily by having it taste wonderful and be served in an enjoyable setting. However, one bar in Sydney seems to have gone not so much over the top but off the edge of the flat Earth:
All right, I call bullshit on this. This consulting mixologist has apparently forgotten that drinking is supposed to be a social experience, not something to be done while blindfolded and wearing headphones. What this bar is doing is undoubtedly charging a premium price -- paying a waitress to stand there for 20 minutes spraying someone in the face with cigar-infused sugar syrup and suntan oil -- for what's essentially a dolled-up Piña Colada plus lots of wankery. Sheesh. [ Link to today's entries ]
Ní bheidh a leithéid arís ann. Ronnie Drew, Irish folk singer with a voice like whiskey and razor blades, and founding member of The Dubliners, passed away on Saturday from complications of throat cancer, at the age of 73. 
Ronnie was a tremendous figure in Irish music for nearly 50 years, and it's safe to say that Irish traditional and folk music as we know it today would be very different indeed, if it were around at all, without the influence of Ronnie, The Dubliners and the folk music resurgence they help launch in Dublin in the early 1960s. Although you may only be marginally familiar with him, or perhaps not at all, his passing is a huge loss for Ireland and Irish culture. From AJ O'Flaherty's blog in Ireland: "His loss is enormous. Thoughts and prayers go out to his family. It was like hearing a family member died. He epitomised wisdom, wit, joy for life, love and passion for music. The word legend is used a little loosely at times, but we truly have just lost a legend and he will be sorely missed." Here Joseph O'Connor remembers him in a lovely piece in the Irish Independent. 
Shane Macgowan of The Pogues said, "Everything we have done, the Dubliners have either done it or they could do it better!" Bono of U2 said, "Music to inspire, to console... an optimism that was contagious... that's what U2 took from The Dubliners. Ronnie has left his earthly tour for one of the heavens -- they need him up there, it's a little too quiet and pious. God is lonely for a voice louder than His own." I won't write a long history here; do some Googling on The Dubliners, and head over to iTunes or your local independent record store and buy a best-of compilation. Oh, and if you're already familiar with them, here are the lyrics of one of The Dubs' biggest hits, "Seven Drunken Nights", including the two final nights Ronnie was never allowed to sing on radio or TV. And it's a folk song, for feck's sake! Here's a very early performance, pre-Dubliners, when they were still called "The Ronnie Drew Group," doing "McAlpine's Fusiliers": Here's a later performance of "Finnegan's Wake": Just listen to this fantastic version of "Easy and Slow": And raise "The Parting Glass." Here's to you, Ronnie Drew. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam. When a bitter liqueur helps your palate mature ... That's amaro! (Okay, that was bad. Sorry. Here's hoping I won't be assaulted by the ghost of Dean Martin.) I'm usually not one to toot my own horn too much, but I think it's a credit to my stamina (and my liver) that my hangover on Friday morning, July 18, was not nearly as catastrophic as it could (or should) have been. Six Scotches, ten gins, four wee gin cocktails, nine brandies, three wee brandy cocktails, three wee cocktails, then five HUMU-HUMU-MONGOUS tropical cocktails at the Tiki dinner the night before; then as Wesly mentioned, after that I visited the Partida / Plymouth / St. Germain suite on the 9th floor, then my friend Eric Alperin of The Doheny handed me one more drink ... and that's when my brain shut down. The next day I marveled at Seamus' and Rick's excellent posts on the dinner, and especially wondered how Seamus was able to pull off such a great post right after the dinner. (I was more occupied with the daunting task of walking.) So, to continue with the pokiest and longest-running Tales of the Cocktail recaps of any cocktail blogger out there ... We slept through the media breakfast at Brennan's and managed to rouse our carcasses ("Quiet darling, your Auntie Mame is hung") to get to one of the most-anticipated seminars of my schedule: "Amore Amari: A Very Bitter History of Bitter Spirits in Apertif Service and Cocktails," presented by Averna, Campari and The Bitter Truth. Wesly and I have been mad for bitters for years, obsessively collecting as many varieties as we could (including our best score ever -- three pristine, full 18-ounce bottles of Abbott's Bitters), and over the past year or so have become amaro fanatics as well -- the bitterer the better.
Eric Seed of Haus Alpenz led the panel and began by talking about the history of bitters in cocktails, and how up until the beginning of the 19th century bitters were truly strictly medicinal, and medical miracles were attributed to their regular use. Our favorite of the historical ads that they showed were for Hostetter's Stomach Bitters, the makers of which exhorted you to "Renew Vigor and Make Life Worth Living!" Hostetter's also helped you "renew your life-giving blood currents" and took care of your dyspepsia, malaria, indigestion, fever and ague, nervousness, kidney, bladder and bowel disease, neuralgia, rheumatism, menstrual cramps and hysteria. While I can't vouch for most of those claims, bitters then and now are great for indigestion and overindulgence, and many of us have but a few teaspoons of Angostura in soda water to settle our tummies. Eric also reviewed several of the primary styles and components of bitter liqueurs. Wormwood-based bitters, in addition to absinthe, include relatively mild examples such as vermouth, which comes from wermut, the German word for wormwood, plus some massively and wonderfully bitter concoctions such as Gorki List from Serbia. (My good friend Dule, from Belgrade who now lives in Zurich, loves the stuff and always keeps a bottle on hand "to test the mettle of my guests." You'll be able to test your own mettle soon; Eric plans to bring Gorki List to the States later this year.) Gentian-based bitters, which have an almost horseradish-like bitterroot flavor without the burn, include Suze from France and Averna from Sicily, and gentian is also an ingredient in most aromatic cocktail bitters such as Angostura. Cinchona bark, from which we get quinine, is the bitter agent in tonic water as well as in quinquinas, aperitif wines like Lillet, Dubonnet and bitters such as Amer Picon. Citrus bitters are sought for their flavor, aroma and sweetness as well as the bitter components. They make very popular amari (Campari, to name the most popular, and it's "younger brother" Aperol), as well as beloved cocktail bitters such as the wealth of orange bitters we're able to enjoy now from Fee's, Regans', The Bitter Truth, Hermes and the wonderful new Angostura Orange Bitters. LeNell Smothers also spoke about her massive collection of bitters at her shop in Brooklyn (and I'm preparing a frighteningly large order for her), and Stephan Berg of the wonderful new bittersmakers The Bitter Truth came from Germany to speak of his products and also regale us with some wonderful history of Angostura and Abbott's Bitters. We also had three terrific cocktails:
This is a lovely Manhattan variation, and shows what can be achieved with just a small amount of an aromatic herbal liqueur, changing the character of the drink completely. Yellow Chartreuse plays with other ingredients a bit more readily than the green, which has such a unique and assertive flavor that it tends to dominate if not carefully balanced. The kirsch gives it a bit of cherry flavor while keeping it dry, and the orange bitters tie everything together beautifully.
This Negroni variation is heavier on the vermouth (we like the variation called the Cinnabar Negroni, which doubles the Campari), and a bit of dry apricot brandy (the lovely Marillien that Eric's Haus Alpenz imports) also adding fruit flavor without the potential of overly cloying sweetness from too much liqueur. This reminds me of a drier, more bitter Martinez.
A Daiquiri variation, again demonstrating that a little liqueur can go a long way flavorwise. Here we have only 1/4 ounce of Eric's new product, St. Elizabeth's Allspice Dram, and it lends great character and spice to the drink. The Averna gives it a lovely bitter component, with the sparkling wine lightening it all up. Funny name too, but you do get a sense of kola nut flavor (itself a very bitter ingredient, if you've ever tasted one on its own) in this mixture of flavors with the most well-known Sicilian amaro. As great as this all was, perhaps the best part was at the very end, when we were invited to come up if we were interested in tasting some of the myriad stash of bitters they'd brought, including ... vintage 19th century Boker's Bitters, the bitters used to make the first Manhattan cocktail. (If we're interested? Ya think?) Stephan placed one precious drop on my hand and I tasted ... and wow. Wow wow wow. Amazing body and spice and depth of flavor, baking spices like cinnamon and clove and ginger and all kinds of strange and wonderful things and YUM. It reminded me of Abbott's, but without the elements you get from the barrel aging in the latter. It still tasted terrific, and I wish Stephan had had enough to make us all Rittenhouse Manhattans with it. We got more tastes from LeNell and Eric, and as Jay Hepburn put it, "I have the wonderful aroma of 10 different bitters on my hands." I'd be happy to smell like that (and taste all those wonderful tastes) every day! Johnny's Po-Boys. Food Porn of the Day, from one of my favorite Quarter poor boy joints, on St. Louis just up from Decatur. It's a perfect little joint, with po-boys and plate lunch specials and an only-in-New-Orleans atmosphere that I love. We squeezed in lunch between the Amaro seminar and the upcoming Liqueurs seminar, and wolfed down two excellent poor boys:  Fried Catfish  Creole Hot Sausage Being carless, I figured we might not make it to Gene's this time, and I was still perfectly happy with the hot sausage at Johnny's. You almost can't go wrong there. Their slogan is "Even our failures are edible," and I've only ever had one failure there -- a crab cake poor boy whose cakes were not crabby enough, too bready and mushy -- and although I didn't care for it, it was indeed edible. Every single other sandwich I've had there in my life was spot-on great, though, so that's still a pretty unbeatable batting average. How to eat like Michael Phelps. Jon Henley, a writer for the UK Guardian, after hearing that Olympic swimming champion Michael Phelps consumes 12,000 calories a day to fuel his body (described by a Bristol University nutritionist as "6ft 4in and 192lb of pure joy") and his incredible athletic feats, decided to have a look at what 12,000 calories actually entails ... and tries to eat it. Video, hilarity and misery ensues. [ Link to today's entries ]
Mixology Monday XXX: Local Flavors, Grand Recap. The roundup is in! Kevin at Save the Drinkers posted his smashing compendium of all the Mixology Monday "Local Flavors" drink submissions, which includes forty-nine cocktails, several syrup and shrub recipes, plus a glass of tap water. (Well, that's certainly local.) Bravo Kevin, and all the MxMo participants. Damn, I'm gonna have to goof off for two days to get all this read ... The British Invasion, with Charlotte Voisey. Colin and Brian at Small Screen Network have been busy -- four videos went up today, all featuring mixologist extraordinaire Charlotte Voisey, who's also the brand ambassador for the lovely Hendrick's Gin:
Stock up on Hendrick's! The L.A. Home Tiki Bar Tour. Aw crap, I'm sorry I missed this ... We've got a decent selection of tiki mugs and glasses, and can make a mean tropical cocktail, but we wouldn't measure up for a home tiki bar tour. That said ... boy, I sure do covet that ready-made bar from Tiki Farm. [ Link to today's entries ]
The Tiki-licious Luau Spirited Dinner! One of the best and most-anticipated events during Tales of the Cocktail is the Spirited Dinners, which take place in about 20 restaurants around the city, on the same night, at the same time. The restaurant's chef will work out a special prix-fixe menu, and one or more renowned mixologists / bartenders / bar chefs / what have you will work with the chef to create cocktail pairings to go along with each dish. It tends to be an amazing burst of creativity both in the kitchen and behind the stick, and is invariably tons of fun. We were thrilled with the Spirited Dinner at Commander's Palace we attended last year, with haute Creole cuisine by Chef Tory McPhail and cocktails by Dale DeGroff and Audrey Saunders (don't get much better than that, folks), but as happy as we were that night, we were also bummed and kicking ourselves in the head that we weren't also somewhere else. Not far from our Garden District paradise, on St. Charles Avenue, another spectacular meal was coming from the kitchen of Chef Chris DeBarr at The Delachaise, with cocktails by our friends Paul Clarke and Darcy O'Neil. The meal was themed as a tribute to Lafcadio Hearn, and as you'll see Chris kicks major butt when it comes to themed meals -- he is one of the most amazingly thoughtful and creative chefs around. (You can read about that meal in Chris' posts here and here, and Paul's account with more on the cocktails, here.) This was one of those times where we wished for the power of bilocation, or one of sf author David Brin's "kiln people" from his novel of the same title, in which we could send a replica of ourselves to go do something we were unwilling or unable to do, then downloads its memories into our own heads. Alas, the technology has yet to catch up (that'll be great for Jazzfest conflicts too), so we resolved to take an extra close look at what Chef Chris would be doing Spirited Dinner-wise in 2008. As it turned out, Chris was planning a Tiki-themed dinner along with the ever-stupendous Jeff "Beachbum" Berry, world's foremost authority on tiki and tropical cocktails, and Wayne Curtis, author of And A Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails, one of my favorite books last year. (Jeff's latest, Sippin' Safari, was one of my other favorites.) This was a triple-threat combination that was not to be missed, and although the Commander's dinner looked pretty good, it was pretty much a foregone concluson that we'd finally make it to the Delachaise for a Spirited Dinner this year. There were a series of complications, though. First off, just a couple of weeks before the dinner, Chris left his position at The Delachaise. (Eek.) This turned out to be a blessing in disguise, for the dinner at least, although not so much for Chris' gig and income at the moment -- the dinner was moved to a place in the Bywater called The Country Club. It was perfect; the kitchen is run by Chef Miles Prescott, a friend of Chris' who had been his sous chef at The Delachaise, and the whole place is friendly and spacious with just the atmosphere we needed for the dinner's theme. The next complication was not so perfect. You may recall from the Tales recapping I've been doing that Thursday, July 17, was a pretty big day in which not everything went as it should have; to wit, I did not avail myself of the use of the spit bucket at all the spirits tasting seminars we attended that day. Let's recap the running tally, shall we? 10:30am to noon with Paul Pacult, and six Macallan single malt Scotches. 12:30 to 2pm, Juniperlooza! with tastes of 9 gins, one sloe gin, and four small 2-ounce cocktails utilizing various gins. 2:30 to 4pm, tasting 10 French and Spanish brandies, plus three 2-ounce cocktails. 5 to 7pm, the Cocktail Hour event, featuring about 30 mixologists dishing out 2-ounce or so tastes of their concoctions. I remember getting one from Wondrich and probably two more. THEN we headed out for the Tiki dinner, where five utterly fantastic (yet LARGE) tropical cocktails were served. The dinner was absolutely spectacular, as you'll see in the following paragraphs. It was, actually, one of the most spectacular meals I've had in years, if not ever. I enjoyed every bit of it and had an immensely fun evening -- that much I know. It's just that ... well ... the details ended up being a bit hazy the next day, much to my near-infinite regret. So kittycats, we have a guest food pornographer today to help fill in the details. Wes is now going to make his Looka! debut, and as you'll see he does a fantastic job recounting our stunning meal and the amazing drinks that went along with it. Jeff Berry was kind enough to offer to share the recipes with anyone who was there or at his seminars later on, and I thank him from the bottom of my liver for that. Chef Chris also wrote a wonderful, amazingly detailed post about his concepts for and execution of the meal which you simply must read in its entirety, especially if you were there (and from which I will quote a few passages amidst Wes' reminiscences). Starting below, the voice will be Wesly's, with my photographs and addenda added by yours truly appearing in [bracketed italics]. And now we switch you live and direct to The Country Club at 634 Louisa Street ... take it away, Wes! First off, you must not mock me if I am ever so slightly less fantastic a food pornographer than is Chuck. He is, after all, the expert. I am only the poor, barely adequate, yet sober substitute. As you shall see, therein lies my virtue. Our group arrived at The Country Club on Louisa Street on time -- not bad for a bunch of drunks, although in fairness it was but a short cab ride from the Monteleone Hotel. It was just dusk, and against the slowly darkening sky the front windows of the club shone in bright welcome. The cool air inside washed over us as we opened the front door -- there may be no more delicious sensation than that of air conditioning escaping past you into a Southern summer evening. A few steps more and we were in Havana.  Wayne Curtis and The Bum, a-mixin' Is there any sound finer than the incendiary clatter of ice in a cocktail shaker, or the delicate clink of ice as it falls into a glass? I think not. Our tireless bartenders Jeff "Beachbum" Berry and Wayne Curtis were already hard at work behind the bar when we walked in. A good thing, too, as their job for the evening entailed preparation of five different, elaborate tropical cocktails for a discerning crowd of 60. That's a lot of mixing, a lot of high standards, and a lot of liquor. Yo ho ho indeed. Southern hospitality may seem a cliché to some, but in truth it's a long-standing tradition with its heart unarguably in the right place. Perhaps the first act of hospitality is that of welcome, and to my mind you'll find little more welcoming than a cocktail upon arrival. If that cocktail happens to be named after a childhood icon of grace, beauty and style, so much the better.
This was a lovely concoction, light yet flavorful, playful as a tropical drink should be, beautifully balanced between sweet, tart and the velvet bite of ginger (not at all unlike the relationship between Mary Ann, Lovey and Ginger herself). It was a perfect "starter" cocktail, offering the promise of earthly delights to come yet graciously leaving the imbiber sober enough to enjoy them. First Note to Self of the evening: Stock up on Tiki Bitters as soon as Bittermen's releases them (and all their other fantastic forthcoming products as well). [Here's Seamus' photo of the drink, about 2/3 consumed already, but you'll get an idea of what it looks like and how pretty it is with that orchid garnish.]  And if the cocktail is served by a local icon of grace, beauty and style -- i.e., by Jeanne Vidrine, the Tiki Queen of New Orleans -- so much the better. First Courses: SWANKY CANAPES 
"A trio of variations on the theme of Poke & Sashimi" What better way to kick off a tropical meal than with fresh fish? I love sushi and sashimi anyway, and although it may have been dichotomous to add ceviche to the mix, it was a brilliant choice by Chef Chris and the result was harmony on the plate. Gorgeous fish, immaculately prepared, elegantly presented, and apparently simple -- but this was a deception of the best kind; read Chris' preparation notes for a peek into the secret life of a chef who suffers from the dread curse of Inspiration. All three bite-sized pieces of heaven were completely delicious, but for me the Tiki ceviche was the stand-out, a surprising bloom of tropical fruit, sweet and tart together again. Simply beautiful. The smooth cucumber granita made for a perfect palate cleanser before moving on, and the little burst of Serrano chile heat playfully admonished us to keep our wits about us. Some of us managed to do so.
"Spice Islands Surf & Turf" Next was another plate of small tastes. If you've ever visited New Orleans, chances are you've had jumbo Louisiana shrimp, but never like this. The tamarind sauce was bright and sharp, and the pink Vietnamese rice cracker not only added a splash of color to the plate and made for great textural contrast with the shrimp. It also reminded me of some of our favorite banh mi places in Los Angeles, where you can buy snacks like shrimp-flavored rice chips in a bag. The beef satay resembled a dear and familiar friend, but the sauce turned out to be vastly different from the usual (and half-expected, shame on me) peanut sauce. Instead it was sweet, tart, a bit fiery -- and perfectly delightful. The johnnycake was a variation on a dish of Chris' that we had enjoyed previously. The hearty, crusty cake with rich crab and sweet corn was intact as I remembered it, but brought to different life with smooth avocado and romesco sauce and the double pop of wasabi-flavored flying fish roe. Holy crap! I couldn't help but laugh aloud.
This dangerously smooth and stealthy combination of a trio of fruit juices and a trinity of rums moves slowly, like a zombie (think George Romero, not "28 Days Later"), but it advances implacably and will knock you to the ground if you don't keep two steps ahead. That Funkin passion fruit purée is great, wonderful stuff. Second Note to Self: Don't forget the Funkin passion fruit! (Sorry, it's just fun to say.) You will notice from the picture that this is not an insubstantial pour, no mere token, far more than just a taste. That's worth keeping in mind. And the fruit flag garnish incorporates an actual (albeit tiny and paper) pirate flag, which of course instigated a round of exclamations of "Yarrr!" and "Avast!" and "Shiver me timbers, thou lusty wench!" What else would you expect from a bunch of drunks? [Stock up on wee pirate flags, and on the ingredients for this drink, as International Talk Like A Pirate Day approaches.] Now, for the second round ... Second Courses: BONGO APPETIZERS 
"Wahine Shrimp" I had been looking forward to the "Wahine Shrimp" ever since I had first read its description on the Spirited Dinners menu announcement. This is quite simply a fabulous dish, one of the best tastes I've ever had in my mouth, and one I would very much like to have in my mouth again. I think it was also the most whimsical and visually delightful of the evening's many offerings, and that's a tough contest indeed. "Barbecue shrimp" is of course a classic New Orleans dish, and although very different this is a loving nod to that classic. But if the idea of a shrimp wearing a grass skirt doesn't make you think of smiling dusky maidens dancing slowly on sunset beaches, then you may need a vacation. Badly. Another fantastic set of flavor and texture contrasts, and just fun to eat. 
Phnom Penh Pork Belly If you want to kick my salivary glands immediately into overdrive, the words "pork belly" are all you need. This dish, the Phnom Penh Pork Belly, looks pretty substantial, but this is the serving for our table of four diners. Clearly this cuts down on plating and clean-up time, but perhaps more importantly it's a great way to encourage friendly sharing. Although any one of us could easily have consumed this solo, it's probably for the best that it was a shared dish -- it was rich, unbelievably so, and falling apart at a touch, with buttery meat and velvety fat in almost equal measure. The savory braise of star anise and caramel was delicious, fascinating, and wholly new to me -- clearly I need to get out and try more Cambodian cooking. Positively sinful and decadent. [Out of all these phenomenal dishes it'd be hard to pick one, but this one was just out of this world. I want to have it all the time.]
Black Bean & Banana Blossom Pupusa Mmm, pupusa. We love pupusas, and we love the big plastic jug of slaw that's served with them at our favorite local Salvadoran restaurant, Las Cazuelas. With this meatless pupusa, Chris provided a perfect counterpoint to the other dishes in this selection. It was perfectly grilled, crispy on the outside but soft inside, and the filling of black bean and banana blossom was silky and piping hot. The slaw was authentically Salvadoran, cool and crisp and tart. Grilled red endive "Outrigger Canoe" Unfortunately there's no picture of the next food item, which is a shame as it was highly photogenic. I suspect there's a good reason for this, which we may delve into later on. In any case, the "Outrigger Canoe" was constructed of grilled red endive and filled with a blend of jumbo lump crabmeat and young jackfruit. As I recall, Chris mentioned that he had previously done this dish using mango rather than jackfruit. Soft, ripe mango would have been lovely, but I think the brightness of the jackfruit worked extremely well against the mellow, full-mouth richness of the crab. The slight bitterness of the endive was nicely mellowed by the grilling, so rather than standing out in stark contrast it worked to bring the other flavors together.
|
