    "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
Jeezus ... where did January go? No news yet. His dad was 13 days late, so I guess it runs in the family. But that kid's gettin' born tomorrow whether he likes it or not. Cocktail of the day. Charles Edward Stuart, also known as "Bonnie Prince Charlie," died 219 years ago today. He was an exiled claimant to the thrones of Scotland and England, whom the Jacobite movement tried (and failed) to restore to the throne. My own particular interest in Charlie is that he supposedly created the liquer consisting of Scots whisky, honey and herbs that we now know as Drambuie, from the Scots Gaelic am dram buidheach, meaning "the drink that satisfies." That it does, it's mighty good stuff. Although I love the flavor I tend to find straight liqueurs to be far too sweet for my taste, and what better to cut the sweetness and retain the flavor but a drink that combines Drambuie with its base, "the devil uisce beatha, guid Scots whisky?!
I like this with a good blended Scotch like The Famous Grouse, but given the near-infinite variations and tastes in Scotch you will, of course, use one to suit your own taste. Lots of people seem to forget about this drink, but they shouldn't. It's wonderful. Apparently today is also "National Brandy Alexander Day." (Where do they come up with this stuff?) Unless you wish to celebrate the myriad drag queens who have adopted this as their nom-de-drag, and if you do like sweet, creamy drinks (I don't, so much), then you might want one of these instead. Combine a jigger of brandy with one ounce each of cream and crème de cacao, shake and strain, then grate a little nutmeg on top. Sip and be faaabulous, dahling. An alternate way to celebrate National Brandy Alexander Day might be with a batch of this ice cream for dessert instead. Have the Rusty Nail before dinner, and this after.
Mmm. I think I'd much rather eat this than drink it. *covet* ... *drool* I want one of these so badly that I've ruined my carpet with the rivers of drool that have issued forth. 
Watch the demos on the web site, but for the complete demo of how it works and looks watch Steve Jobs' MacWorld keynote address during which he introduces the device. Shiny!! [ Link to today's entries ]
Potato, onion and cheese omelette with French fries, pecan waffle and chocolate freeze, here I come! The Times-Picayune tells us about Hicham Khodr, Tarek Tay and Gabriel Saliba, the new owners of the Camellia Grill, which is apparently reopening in March. Woohoo!
I had my last potato, onion and cheese omelette at the Camellia 17 days before Katrina. I can't wait to see if it'll taste the same. Wanna feel old? Here's a pre-"No Depression" clip of Uncle Tupelo from 1989, from "Critical Mass," a show on St. Louis local cable TV. Good lord, Jay and Jeff look so young ... [ Link to today's entries ]
Sorry for the lack of updates. I'm in Houston at the moment. Why? Tell y'all later. :-) I made red beans 'n rice for tonight's dinner, yummm. The ham hocks I bought turned out to be rotten and moldy, so fortunately we had a smoked turkey leg in the fridge at my sister's -- that went in with bones and skin, and boy, did it turn out great. Jazzfest lineup is out!! No cubes yet, but the website now has both weekends up. More odd mainstream acts (Steely Dan? Rod Stewart?!!) , plus non-New Orleans jazz acts ("Essence Music Festival" kinda stuff, Quint says), and some interesting surprises -- Calexico and Gillian Welch to name two. No Nevilles yet, and Harry Connick Jr. is filling their usual closing spot. There's a lot that looks good, though. The ones that really excite me this time will be in boldface.
The usual dilemma ... too much great music, too little ability to be in three places at once. The bitter truth continues ... The San Francisco Chronicle looks over the growing number of available cocktail bitters, and takes a look at various Bay Area bars own housemade bitters concoctions. [ Link to today's entries ]
"Goodbye, my friends." Art Buchwald goes out in style, with dignity, grace and humor. Here's his final column. Also, don't miss the video obituary he recorded with The New York Times six months ago, to be played after his passing. "Hi! I'm Art Buchwald, and I just died!" As Steve put it this morning, may we all face it so well ... many, many years from now. (Pete) Fountain of Youth. Great news! (Thanks for the tip and the headline, Steve!) By the way, in New Orleans dat's pronounced "Foun'tn o' Yoot."
(Do New Orleanian pirates say, "Yarrrrr!" or "Yawwwww!"? Me, I dunno ...)
Awww, ain't dat nice, dawlin'? :-) Hey, my Uncle Joe's in Pete's Half-Fast Marching Club, he'll be jazzed to hear this. Pierre Dewey La Fontaine, Jr., I wish you health, long life, and lots of half-fast marching. Here come the Meter men! In the spirit of pre-Mardi Gras musical revelry, a blogger by the name of "Aquarium Drunkard" has been posting MP3s of New Orleans music, and thanks to a tip from Steve M. I refer you to the Drunkard's site and a a complete Meters show from 1977, live from the Showboat Lounge as broadcast on local radio. The Meters were at the peak of their nasty funkiness at this point, so y'all're definitely gonna wanna hear dis one. Oh, and while we're at it, here's some footage of James Booker doing "Papa Was A Rascal" with a full band, in 1978 in France. Yeah you rite ... [ Link to today's entries ]
Go, Hot Doug! As if I needed another reason to think that Hot Doug's is one of the best, don't-miss places to eat in Chicago, it's this:
Doug Sohn, you rock. Let's see that fabulous dog again, shall we? 
That'd be the Cognac-infused Smoked Pheasant Sausage with Black Truffle Sauce Moutarde and Foie Gras "Butter." (Oh my God ...) More on those who believe in the freedom to eat:
Civil disobedience at its finest! [ Link to today's entries ]
Very interesting. Barack Obama's gettin' serious about throwing his hat in. I kinda wish he'd have a complete Senate term under his belt by the time he does this, and I'm not 100% eye-to-eye with him (well, he's taller than I am, for one), but he could be the only presidential candidate I could actually get excited about and one who could actually give us some hope, more so than any in my lifetime. (Hillary, for fuck's sake do NOT run!) The newest New Orleanians. Maddox, Zahara, Shiloh 'n dey're Momma 'n 'em ...
I say bravo Brangelina. They've both done some great humanitarian aid work in the city in the last year, and now their move to the city (while I'm guessing it won't necessarily be full-time) will be some wonderful, much-needed PR for a city that hasn't had much going for it lately. [ Link to today's entries ]
Enough. Three thousand people marched on New Orleans City Hall and reviled the Mayor and other city officials in what Schroeder described as "the largest and most diverse demonstration of community solidarity in New Orleans history." Will it do any good? Only time will tell. There's lots more from Oyster; just go there and start reading. The Madness of King George. This president is going to go down, and apparently he plans to drag the entire country and God knows how much of the world along with him. The true terror here now seems not to be any kind of supposed al Qaeda threat, but how bad this president is going to fuck up the country and the world. Iran?! Syria?! As AmericaBlog said, "The man is categorically insane." As always but now more than ever, you must read and watch Keith Olbermann's special commentary on the president's "disastrous" address of Wednesday night: "Only this President, only in this time, only with this dangerous, even Messianic certitude, could answer a country demanding an exit strategy from Iraq, by offering an entrance strategy for Iran." Meanwhile, "Washington intelligence, military and foreign policy circles are abuzz today with speculation that the President, yesterday or in recent days, sent a secret Executive Order to the Secretary of Defense and to the Director of the CIA to launch military operations against Syria and Iran." Covert war. That worked really well for Nixon. This time it'd be far worse. You ... what? George Bush's new Secretary of Defense, testifying Wednesday before the House Armed Services committe, said (and I quote), "I would confess I'm no expert on Iraq." "Funny," said John at AmericaBlog, "that's not what the White House claimed just two months ago." We're so far past outrage overload it's just ... speechlessness. Quote of the day. Yep, this pretty much sums it up. Might even be an understatement.
Then he called her a liar. No milk, please. Well, I'll be.
We had our tea this morning with sugar only (mine with Splenda), and it was mighty good. Even more of a kick in the pants, really -- we drink Irish tea most of the time, which is only one or two steps below crystal meth. [ Link to today's entries ]
Enough. If you live in New Orleans, there will be a march on City Hall beginning tomorrow at 11:30, from the foot of Canal Street near the Aquarium. As many people as possible need to turn up for this and demonstrate to the city's elected officials that they need to do their jobs. Phở sure! Vietnamese phở, or beef noodle soup, is becoming one of my favorite dishes, and I wish I had it more often. I sometimes whimsically refer to phở (very roughly pronounced "fuh") as "Vietnamese gumbo;" similarly, calling phở "beef noodle soup" is not unlike calling gumbo "chicken and sausage soup." It doesn't quite cut it as a description. Phở consists of a deeply flavored beef broth, brightly seasoned with star anise, cinnamon, clove, roasted ginger and onion, sometimes cardamom and other spices; rice stick noodles; slices of rare beef, other cuts of beef, beef meatballs or even chicken; and garnishes like holy basil, mint leaves, bean sprouts, scallions, cilantro, sawleaf, fresh chiles and lime. Hoisin sauce and sriracha sauce are provided as accompaniments. There's sort of a procedure and ritual to eating it properly, which makes it even more fun. The first time I tried phở I learned this by watching and doing; I was the only non-Vietnamese face in the whole joint. I did fairly well, all things considered. It's a symphonic flavor feast, it's pretty good for you, it generally comes in a huge portion, a bowl big enough to wash your hair in for five bucks, which I can never finish. (I even have trouble finished the small, 3 or 4 buck size.) Try your hand at making the basic version yourself; you can make a huge batch of broth ahead of time and freeze it in 2-cup freezer bags for later use. I'm going to give this a try soon, and end up being able to throw a quick ở dinner together very quickly. The aroma is intoxicating, which is why it's been said that "when Vietnamese think of phở they think of sex. 'We say that whereas rice is a spouse, phở is a lover,'" and that "Phở is life." Cocktail of the day. Last night we revisited a classic that we hadn't had in a while, a favorite that was part of our very pleasurable path to embrace the wonders of gin, and one that I use to help convert people who think they're gin-haters (and I believe true gin-haters are few and far between; a lot of drinkers now just fear gin as we once did, and have no idea how good it can be in the right cocktail to get them started). This drink, which originated in the late 19th Century at the Pegu Club in Rangoon, Burma, an outpost of the fading British Empire, is lovely, with a citrusy-spicy flavor that may well convert a would-be gin-hater with no trouble. The classic recipe uses only a teaspoon of lime, but a tablespoon may be used if you like a tarter cocktail. You should also have a relatively easy time talking a bartender through it (as it's unlikely that most bartenders these days will even have heard of it, although I think that's beginning to change). Good luck finding orange bitters in most bars, though.
This drink is prominent enough such that one of the best bars in the country was named for it. [ Link to today's entries ]
Plus you get to play with a blowtorch! Chef Chris DeBarr of The Delachaise in New Orleans demystifies crème brûléee, gives you a basic recipe and a launching platform for endless variations, using different flavorings, infusions, spices, etc. Get torchin'! [ Link to today's entries ]
This scares me deeply. And I don't even live in the city now. The more I read about the murder of Helen Hill in the Marigny yesterday morning, the more it makes me shake. This is just four blocks from where good friends of mine live, and where we were walking on the streets late at night just last week. This, the other murders in the last day and the shooting of the Hot 8 Brass Band's Dinerral Shavers by a 15-year-old a few days after Christmas makes me wonder with a feeling verging on despair what makes human life seem so worthless to some people in my home city. Bart eulogizes his friend Helen, and Loki, a French Creole whose family traces back to the beginnings of New Orleans nearly 300 years ago and loves the city dearly, now wonders if he has a future there, saying It is more than a civilized human can bear." I suggest a citywide campaign for the firing and immediate replacement of Warren Riley as police chief, and for the recall of "C. Ray? Not Lately." Nagin. Dollar bill violates House ethics rules, days after re-election. Boy, he's quick, ain't he? Via Oyster comes a report that Bill Jefferson, in a move that "shocked" House Democrats, abused his Congressional franking privilege to fundraise for the retirement of his campaign debt. Predictably, he's having his staff take the fall for it, having them claim they used the "wrong stationery," meaning to use campaign stationery instead of House stationery. Gee, did they accidentally drop all the envelopes into the Congressional franked envelopes too? Such horseshit. In answer to the last question in the article, he needs to reimburse the House Franking Commission, stand before the ethics committee and have his butt thrown out of Congress. Let's hope a speedy indictment will help accomplish that. "No spreck-a de Irish, no." On the heels of my post a while back about the wonderful little Irish film "Yu Ming is Ainm Dom" ("My Name is Yu Ming"), here's a terrific article from The Guardian via MetaFilter: "When the EU added Irish to its list of 'working languages', most press reports cited the 2002 census in which a third of the population claimed 'an ability' to speak the first official language. Manchán Magan, a broadcaster for Irish-language [television station] TG4, decided to put those claims to the test, by travelling across the island speaking nothing but its ancestral tongue -- to shop assistants, tourist information staff, and even phone sex operators." The article starts of in a very depressing manner, but as with the film, perks up and ends happily, and with hope. Maith na bpáistí! UPDATE: In the comments of the MeFi post is a link to a series of Irish language lessons from BBC Northern Ireland which are wonderful. Steel yourself though, the Ulster accents are as thick as molasses (not that there's anything wrong with that, of course; I find it delightfully lilting and pleasant to listen to), and might be a bit difficult if you're not used to them. Besides, apparently Ulster Irish (as spoken in Donegal and other parts of the north) is the "trendy" dialect these days, supplanting Connemara Irish as supposedly there are more native speakers in Donegal. Death in the Afternoon. No, not a post about Baghdad, oddly enough, but one about drinking. Master food scientist and writer Harold McGee writes in the New York Times about trying to clear absinthe's reputation (which is happening, I believe, despite the U.S. ban on the liquor and a flood of awful stuff from the Czech Republic) and reminds us of one of its many cocktailian applications:
Apparently it didn't work too well for Harold with regards to the drink regaining its effervescence, but sparked an interesting discussion about how Champagne bubbles work (I'll bet you didn't know why it bubbles as it does). I wonder if something about it being Pernod and not true absinthe (although Ted Breaux and company are now making PF 1901, a "tribute" and very close reproduction of turn-of-the-20th-Century Pernod absinthe), but hey ... we've got some of Ted's Nouvelle-Orléans and a half-bottle of Veuve Cliquot in the fridge ... perhaps we'll give it a try this weekend. [ Link to today's entries ]
Thank God. Finally, after twelve years, we have a Democratic Congress. And can you believe that almost immediately those whining little bastards in the Republican party start mewling about how they won't be able to get any of their legislation introduced behind the "Democratic agenda" (which actually pretty good, and pretty damn solid), and blah blah blah ... what the hell do you think you've been doing to the rest of us for the last 12, and especially 6 years? Good Christ. And how cool is this ... a woman is now Speaker of the House of Representatives for the first time in American history, and third in line for the Presidency. A bad way to end 2006. The gun violence in New Orleans is getting worse and worse every day. So far it hasn't been too bad in any of the "tourist" areas (the shots fired outside a Marigny bar several weeks ago being a major exception), but awful things are happening in the neighborhoods, especially Central City, where it seems like there's a murder a day, including one this morning at 5:30am, four blocks from the home of good friends in the Marigny. 
The year came to a very bad close, however, with the shooting death of Dinerral Shavers, snare drummer for the Hot 8 Brass Band and a rising musical star in the city. He was part of the musical future of New Orleans, and also taught music at a local high school and started their first marching band. Turns out the killer was a 15-year-old boy who was "feuding" with Shavers' 15-year-old stepson, shot at him as the car went by (incidentally, eight blocks from the Mid-City home of other good friends of mine) and hit Shavers by mistake. Critically injured, he drove four more blocks before collapson, and his family was uninjured (physically, at least). From the article, "At the center of the feud may have been resentment for 'Uptowners,' such as Shavers' stepson, moving into territory of the 'Govs,' short for Gov. Nicholls Street, a name adapted by teens from that neighborhood." Jesus Christ. It's bad enough having the bodies pile up because of turf wars between returning rival drug dealers in Central City, but I really don't know what's going to happen to this city if people (and kids, just fucking kids) don't stop killing each other. That it was over bullshit like this just makes it even more soul-crushingly tragic. More on the murder rate, what's not being done about it and how we tend to come by a lot of ineffectual politicians in New Orleans. Oyster reports on the wonderful results of 'strategic voting:'
As for the push that re-elected Jefferson, add to that the comments of that blowhard jerk Harry Lee... sigh. I myself am counting the days until that bribe-taking hypocrite Jefferson is indicted. The greatest candy bar ever? Well, perhaps not, but it's really really feckin' good, and thanks to Steve "CandyFreak" Almond and the Mardi Gras Zone I am now a huge, gignatic, humongous, Gargantuan fan of VALOMILK. 
I had never heard of these when I read about them in Steve's terrific book CandyFreak, and boy, did they sound good. They're very regional to Kansas City, though, and difficult to ship because of their fragility, so I filed the name away and wondered if I'd ever taste one. Then, enter the Mardi Gras Zone ... I was walking in the Marigny with friends after Christmas, and they told me about some of the changes to the neighborhood. The MGZ started out life as a discount/wholesale Carnival throws warehouse, but as with many businesses after Katrina and the flood found it necessary to change their business plan. They morphed into a grocery warehouse open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with one of the most bizarrely eclectic selection of interesting and exotic items anywhere in the city. Everyday groceries, but all kinds of other stuff from dried guajillo chiles to Vietnamese coffee (and they still carry beads and throws too). And what did I see at the far right side of their refrigerated section but a whole pile of VALOMILKs?! I bought one and tore right into it. First off, I was surprised by the extremely high quality of the chocolate ... semisweet, silky and very chocolatey, tons better than what you find in mainstream factory candy like Hershey's. This is because, as the VALOMILK folks explain on their website, they use only the finest cocoa beans they can find, from the Ivory Coast; they grind them superfinely; they conch the chocolate for 48 hours (unheard of by the likes of Hershey) and hand-temper it besides. Then there's the filling ... semi-liquid marshmallow flavored with real Bourbon vanilla from Madagascar, which immediately begins flowing all over everywhere. The experience is best described by one of their slogans: "When it runs down your chin, you know its a VALOMILK." And when it gets all over your fingers and drips down on your new sweater (Wesly will never eat one of these while reclining again). I love this candy bar. It's deceptively simple -- just chocolate and marshmallow -- but the quality of those two parts is so high, and the combination of flavors so wonderful and the whole textural experience of trying not to get it all over you as you try to eat it slowly to savor the flavor but engage in a fierce race with the filling that won't really wait for you to enjoy it before it starts trying to ooze onto your shirt front or pants leg.  Photo from Flickr by NYCnosh; permission to repost via Creative Commons license Topping it all off is the story of the candy's origin:
We have VALOMILKs now because of a candy maker who was drunk. I love it. That night before I went home I stopped back into the Mardi Gras Zone and bought another dozen VALOMILKs to take home. Fortunately for y'all, you can mail-order them from a number of sources linked from their website. Me, I'm gonna run down the street and see if they have 'em at [ Link to today's entries ]
Happy New Year! Bonne année! Athbhlian faoi mhaise dhoaibh! And all that stuff. My Christmas visit home was lovely, the folks are doing fine, my sister is enormously pregnant, and I gained five pounds. (Big surprise on that last one.) And I'm back on WeightWatchas as of today. (Remaining daliy points post-lunch: 7.5 ... but that's because I had half a Hubig's Pie for breakfast with my tea, 'cause I brought some back and really can't let them to go waste ...) Some food porn perhaps forthcoming. Just when you thought we were done with Christmas ... Ha! There are 12 days of Christmas, and this is only Number Nine (On da nint' day of Christmas, we drove down Delery ... in da Lowuh Nint' Wawd ... sigh). Will Layman of Pop Matters posits the following:
He's right about one thing ... everyone I know loves this music, especially "Linus and Lucy". I know I do, and I have since I was a kid and saw the special for the first time when I was about four. Why you should never ever use "non-dairy creamer" in your coffee or tea. Because it's crap, of course, but if you're not convinced by my assertion, try to pay a little attention to what's in it. C'mon, a splash of 2% won't kill you, and you can even get away with a tablespoon of half-and-half (i.e., half-milk, half-cream), which is only half a WeightWatchers point (20 calories, 1.75g fat, 1.1g of which is saturated). That other shit comes from a chemical company; shouldn't this part of your diet at least come from a cow? (And not from a soybean either, for me ... if you're lactose-intolerant or something that's one thing, at least it's more or less a natural product, but man, that stuff's nasty. Ah well, to each his own.) December Looka! entries have been permanently archived. [ Link to today's entries ]
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