 
 "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
Cocktail of the day. Doing a bit of catch-up ... we've been having lots of traditional "comfort cocktails" recently, especially Manhattans, especially when Wes makes them, as his Manhattan-making skills are vast and sublime. We've still been trying "new" ones (even though they may be decades or even a century old) though, and here's one that came to us from Dave Wondrich's stupendous book Imbibe!. I'd seen this one around before, but the version he includes is the best I've ever seen, and the one that inspired me to try it, and fall in love with it. The original proportion on the brandy and vermouth was equal parts, but I prefer Paul E. Lowe's "fine suggestion" of changing it to 2 parts brandy to 1 part vermouth, as specified in his 1904 tome Drinks as They Are Mixed.
This was the house cocktail at the Metropole Hotel, opened in New York a couple of years before the turn of the 19th Century to the 20th. The owners had previously owned another hotel called the Metropolitan, which had its own cocktail as well (for that one, "replace both bitters with 3 dashes of Angostura, cut the Cognac in half and add a barspoon of gum"). The Metropole Cocktail is to the Metropolitan, according to Dave, "as the one hotel was to the other: more or less the same ingredients, but stronger, spicier and definitely flashier, yet not without style." This one goes in the regular rotation. I've really been enjoying brandy-based cocktails this week, and I'll feature another one tomorrow. New Cajun/zydeco Grammy category debuts this year. The end result of Cynthia and Terrance Simien's years-long quest to give Cajun and zydeco musicians a chance to compete for Grammies on their own, instead of being beaten in the folk category by people like Shawn Colvin and Bruce Springsteen, sounded like a great idea on paper. Now that it's finally coming to pass this year there are, of course, attendant controversies. My friend Steve Hochman delves into this in great detail in an excellent article in this month's OffBeat, the roots music magazine from New Orleans. Some wonder if Cajun and zydeco should even be in the same category; although they're both from Louisiana they're quite different -- "[t]o some extent it's as if they put Diana Ross and Iggy Pop competing in a 'Detroit' category." Others wonder about the nomination of a non-Louisianian musician whose music is only marginally Cajun or zydeco, and whose inclusion, some say, is only because she lives and performs in Los Angeles and is therefore more visible to a large percentage of nominators. Should be interesting to see how it shakes out. I think the Grammies are mostly crap, and they've demonstrated this on a number of occasions throughout the years, but that said I'm rooting for the Pine Leaf Boys. Edible food-like substances. Food writer Michael Pollan has a new one out that I've been eager to get (and place upon the Everest-sized pile of to-be-read books ... I swear, I need a Sherpa to navigate to the top of that damned thing), called In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto. He was a guest on Evan Kleiman's "Good Food" radio show last week, and listening to him made me want to pick up the book even more. First off, here's his manifesto. It's only seven words.
Inclusive of the fact that bacon is a vegetable, we'll move on. (And we all know that a little bacon goes a long way, so I think it fits into the spirit if not the letter of his manifesto.) By "food" he means "real food," which he differentiates from something he calls "edible food-like substances." Whether something is one or the other is determined by these two criteria:
"Mostly plants" doesn't mean "be a vegetarian," of course. "Mostly" could mean 60% (I haven't read the book yet, so I don't know what he means by "mostly"), but it's sensible advice. Except for special occasions, I generally don't eat more than 4 ounces of meat per serving when I'm cooking at home, and I'm entirely satisfied. I cook with fresh, unprocessed ingredients for the most part, my reserve of cans being almost entirely tomato products, beans and the occasional canned soup. It's easy to do. And it's very easy to avoid "edible food-like substances." Just saw "eww" and don't buy them. Edible food-like substances, part deux. Here's another example of this. Just when you thought you were grossed out enough by pasteurized process cheese-like food-like subtance that sprays out of a pressurized can ... there are pancakes that spray out of a pressurized can the same way. 
You simply must watch the demo video. It's revolting. It's also criminally easy to make pancakes from scratch. It takes maybe three minutes, five tops. Measure and sift 2 cups of flour, add 3 teaspoons of baking powder, a teaspoon of salt and a couple tablespoons of sugar, an egg and a cup and a half of milk. Mix with a mixer or whisk and ladle onto your griddle. Embellish as you like. It's fresh and simple. Jeez. Edible food-like substances, part tree. It gets worse. A German manufacturer of food products for hikers and wilderness exploration types has come out with ... a cheeseburger in a can. Yours for only €3.95! Instructions for preparation: "[S]imply throw the can into a water container over a fire, give it a minute or two, fish it out, open the lid, and eat. With a shelf life of twelve months without requiring refrigeration, the lightweight snack is the ideal fast food treat for the wilderness." 
I'll bet it doesn't look like this when it comes out of the can. But hey, they'll be worth their weight in gold after the nucular acropolis! Ardent Spirits. We need some serious drinking after that assault by (semi- to non-)edible food-like substances. Fortunately Gary and Mardee have a new newsletter out, featuring a taste of a Wild Hibiscus Champagane Cocktail, a scrumptious-looking new one from Jamie Boudreau, plus the requisite fun and silliness we've come to expect from every AS newsletter. Dig in. [ Link to today's entries ]
Cocktail of the day. Not rare, not lost or forgotten, not new and exotic ... classic, so much so that it's one you might have overlooked lately, might not have had in a while, and it's time to have one again. Keep it fresh in your mind. The original recipe for this drink (a classic "New Orleans sour," a direct descendant of the Crusta and sibling of the Margarita) was equal parts of all ingredients, but it works much better if you balance it this way -- this is how our cocktailian bartender friends do it, as does Gary Regan in The Joy of Mixology. If you want it slightly stronger on the Cognac side, 2:1:1/2 is also a good proportion, but I like 'em better this way:
I'm not a fan of the sugared rim, but you are of course welcome to do that. I hadn't had one of these since the Hennessy event a few months ago, and I'd like to have them more often. Thanks as always to my friend René Engel, who bought me one many years ago and turned me on to them. Oh, one more thing ... do not allow anyone to make you a Sidecar with bottled sour mix -- fresh lemon juice ONLY. I've had to fend off any number of attempts in bars, so first I ask if they have fresh lemon juice before I even order one. Screw Willy Wonka ... I want a Godiva Golden Ticket!
But it's lame if you can't lick the walls. Quote of the day. When I heard the following line during the State of Screwing the Union Address, I scoffed aloud. So did a writer on Corrente, heading the post "Now that's what I call hypocrisy."
(Thanks, Mary!) [ Link to today's entries ]
Why I like the new iPhone 1.1.3 software update. 'Cause I can customize it by putting the really important things right on the home screen. 
I want ham!!! Not just any ham -- I want Iberico ham, which is only just now arriving on the shores of this country. I had read about it last year in Peter Kaminsky's wonderful book Pork Perfect: Encounters with Remarkable Swine and Some Great Ways to Cook Them and wanted some ever since. Why? Well, because it's the best ham in the world, bar none, according to everyone who's had it. Why? It's all about the pig, where they live and what they eat.
The ham is aged for at least 12 months, and is not smoked, soaked or cooked. And what's it like? 
When we go to Spain I'm going to eat this stuff breakfast, lunch and dinner. Regional pizza styles. Here's a list. Which is your favorite? I lean toward New York style, although not the soggy-in-the-middle by-the-slice method that only works if you buy a slice and have it reheated a second time -- that's good, but I like whole pies that have integrity of crispness all the way through. In our neighborhood we're fond of Casa Bianca Pizza Pie (Italian sausage, garlic and spicy green olive), but only for takeout, as we don't like waiting an hour or more or a table. They don't claim to be New York style, and it's been pointed out that they're more like Chicago thin-crust style (I really don't like Chicago style deep dish.) Folliero's in Highland Park is also pretty good. Oddly enough, until Casa Bianca I used to say that the best pizza I'd ever had was a Sicilian style at a little mom-and-pop pizzeria in Carbondale, Illinois, whose name is lost to the dusty cobwebs of what's left of my memory. Simple, just Italian sausage and mushrooms, but absolutely out of this world. Little short round bald mustachioed accented Italian guy served it to us, and it was perfect. This was in 1980, so who knows if he's still there. The Cocktail Spirit, with Robert Hess. You gotta love a cocktail that not only tastes great but also inspires passionate ... er, discussion (although preferably not involving rocks and sharp sticks) as to its proper preparation and the origin of its base spirit. Me, I go for the Peruvian stuff as it's arguably the first to come along, and so I don't get the stink-eye from my Peruvian friends.
I'm insanely jealous that Robert has Amargo Chuncho, the local Peruvian aromatic bitters. My friend's sister was supposed to bring me some from Peru when she came to visit him (I provided the product name and even a picture!) but alas, she brought something completely different (a carob-based syrup used to make another pisco-based cocktail). Oh well, at least I'm the only kid on my block with that stuff ... [ Link to today's entries ]
Jazzfest 2008 lineup is out! And a mighty fine lineup it is!
Everyone who's anyone, plus a few more, plus the return of Thursday and the return of the Neville Brothers! (Let's feel it and not phone it in, Brother Cyril, okay?) Amer Boudreau rolling. Last week my batch of tincture of bitter orange was finally finished stewing, and it looked pretty good. It was tough to photograph, particularly when doing it quickly and sloppily early in the morning while still groggy before dashing off to work, but you at least get an idea of its color:  
2.5 cups of that stuff mixed with one 750ml bottle of Amaro Ramazzotti, 3 ounces of Stirrings Blood Orange Bitters and 250ml of water is now gently aging in a big jar on my dining room table, the flavors "getting to know one another," as Jamie puts it. I'll finally be trying a Hoskins with this next week. The Cocktail Spirit, with Robert Hess. Although it's not the season in which we usually drink it, we never mind an excuse to bring out those copper mugs.
It's one of the few things we keep vodka around for too, other than making Vespers or tinctures, or this cocktail we learned from Dave Wondrich. It's a way to enjoy a liqueur's flavor while cutting down on the sweetness.
This would work for any strongly flavored, herbal liqueur. Editorial cartoon of the day. Tom Toles charts the '08 presidential candidates, and pretty much sums it up, spot on. 
I'm bummed that Edwards is trailing so badly. I think his message would really catch on if the media weren't so actively ignoring him. The ridiculous Clinton-Obama squabbling makes for better ratings, I guess, and we all know that's what news is all about these days -- not the goddamn issues. (Speaking of the squabbling ... Hillary and Bill -- espeically Bill -- are really starting to piss me off. Bill's being a butthead.) [ Link to today's entries ]
RIP, Ennis Del Mar. 
And Patrick Verona, and Sir William Thatcher, and Sonny Grotowski, and Harry Faversham, and Skip, and Jacob Grimm, and Giacomo Casanova, and The Joker, and especially Heath Ledger. :-( [ Link to today's entries ]
Cheer up, sleepy Jean. John Stewart, former member of The Kingston Trio and one of the most prolific folk and pop songwriters of the '60s and '70s, died of an aneurysm last Saturday at age 68. Many will remember his work with The Kingston Trio, or his 1979 top 10 hit "Gold" (with Stevie Nicks singing background), or one or all of his forty solo albums. I, for one, will best remember him as the writer of this song, in the video below, that's one of the sunniest and catchiest pop songs ever written, and a longtime favorite of mine -- to this day, and in fact the last time we heard it a week or so ago, Wes and I sing along with it at the top of our lungs. I defy you not to sing along too, and smile. Here's John's own version of the song, recorded about five months ago, "aged like a fine bourbon." (Thanks to Dawson from MeFi for the post.) Here's an MP3 of another performance of the song from 2006. Thanks John, for a great song out of many, and a lifetime of music. [ Link to today's entries ]
Brad's pink houses in the Lower Nine. Why pink? "Because pink screams the loudest." I got a chance to drive down to the Lower Ninth Ward to check out Brad Pitt's Pink Project, where temporary pink tent structures, representing houses and lives that were washed away, have been installed in part of the neighborhood where new houses will be built by his "Make It Right" project. It's quite a sight, and although I think a few of those designs are just too weird for words (internationally renowned architects or not), I think it's a fantastic project, and I hope it succeeds. As I was driving down to the Lower Nine the heavens opened, and there was what seemed to be a near-apocalyptic rainstorm ... not at all atypical for New Orleans. As I drive through the deluge, I thought, "If people from L.A. were faced with rain like this while they were driving, they'd think it was the end of the world." When I got to the Lower Nine the skies were magnificent, and I took some nice shots while driving around and waiting for dusk to fall, so that I could get pictures of the tents lit up.         
Check out The Pink Project and the plan to build 150 houses in the Lower Nine at Make It Right NOLA. The great pasta debate. The New York Times ran an interesting piece on my favorite pasta dish, pasta all'Amatriciana. I hadn't realized that this dish was so "freighted with controversy."
I've made it with American bacon. It's good. I've made it with pancetta. It's quite good. I've made it with guanciale. With guanciale, it is beyond compare. It is heaven in a pasta bowl. It is the Great Light of the Cosmos in a thin slice of cured pork jowl. With all due respect to the people of Amatrice, for me this dish would be woefully incomplete without the thick slivers of red onion and the drizzle of good olive oil. It completes the dish. As for the type of pasta ... I'll use bucatini, because that's the first way I had it and it's more or less traditional. But I'll take it with spaghetti, which also works well ... or even penne, or whatever else you've got. Guanciale's easy enough to get these days, folks, so do yourself a favor and get some. It really does make a difference, despite the opinion of a certain woefully underinformed food writer, who shall go unnamed, who declares guanciale to be 10% flavor and 90% hype. Pull thy cranium out of thy bottom, sir, and eat some properly prepared. And if you can't taste the difference ... ah well, then I feel sorry for you. Armandino Batali would be happy to sell you some, and it's not expensive, and a little goes a long way. Or, you can just make your own. Let's have another look at that, shall we? 
Mangiare, mangiare! The Cocktailian. In his most recent article for the Chronicle Gary Regan talks to us about Chartreuse, primarily of the green variety, and offers a recipe for one of my favorite green Chartreuse-bearing cocktails, one of which we enjoyed during the first week of the new year.
We also like the yellow variety of Chartreuse, a little lower in alcohol and a little mellower in flavor (fewer herbs in the mix), which among many other things goes well in a Lemony Snicket Cocktail in the summer and this -- an old, old friend -- in the fall and winter. (Had one of these on a chilly evening recently as well.)
If you've read Ted "Dr. Cocktail" Haigh's marvelous book Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, you'll remember his wonderful description of this drink:
Or in front of the space heater, as the case may be. (We couldn't afford the house with the river rock fireplace.) Anybody wanna go in on this? One of the reasons I've been so scarce lately is because I'm embarking on a huge, endlessly time-consuming and relatively expensive project to digitize every CD in my library, throw away the jewel boxes, place the CDs, booklets and tray cards into Jewel Sleeves and store those in 1/4 the space. The fun part of doing this is rediscovering a lot of things I forgot I had, or just forgot having listened to them. The drag of it is ... goddamn, why must I have so many CDs? I'll be doing this until I'm a hundred. (Well, probably not, but still.) Alas, my puny collection pales in comparision to that of Paul Mawhinney, who has, by his own claims, the world's greatest music collection.
All I'd need is a 21 terabyte hard drive (or so) to hold it all! Oh, and roughly about 8-1/2 years working full time, 7 days a week, 8 hours a day, to digitize it all ... and that's just the CDs. LPs and 78s will, of course, have to be digitized in real time. Okay, I'm in for a hundred. Anyone? [ Link to today's entries ]
Update on Kirk Joseph. From the latest weekly email from OffBeat, the New Orleans and Louisiana roots music magazine:
That's great news! Get well and stay healthy, Kirk. That'll be boiled seafood instead of fried for a good long time, my friend. Recipe of the day: Cincinnati Chili. I don't remember where I had read or heard about this, but as soon as I saw it, I thought ... hey, this sounds really good. Cincinnatians have their own unique hometown chili, which began as a relatively bland version of the old Texas-style hot dog chili, but then in the early 1920s along came some Greek and Slavic Macedonian immigrants who thought the chili could do with some spices from the old country. Into the chili went cinnamon, cumin, bay, allspice and, oddest and perhaps best of all, unsweetened cocoa. That plus some hot pepper and vinegar and Worcestershire and a few other things and these folks had something going for them. They scarf down over two million pounds of this stuff every year just in Cincinnati alone, and between that fact and the fascinating list of spices, I just had to try it. The truly authentic technique for making this chili is a bit counter-intuitive for me. You start with ground beef, finely ground as you can get it (in fact, regrind it yourself with the finest-grind disc in your meat grinder if you have one, or even pulse it in a food processor until it's as finely ground as you can get it without making it into a paste). Then, the technique is not to sauté and brown it, but to ... boil it. This is also done without the addition of onion along with it, raw onions being saved for the end. The chili is almost always served over spaghetti, and is always served with oyster crackers sprinkled around the edge. I couldn't find oyster crackers at my local grocery last night, so I skipped 'em this time. (Next time, Cincinnati, I promise!) I have to confess that I made a slightly inauthentic batch last night, browning the beef first and finely dicing a medium-sized red onion, because I thought it'd taste better that way. (I also used whole wheat spaghetti, because I'm on Weight Watchers and I saved a point that way. Shut up.) I'll try it the original, authentic way next time, but my inclination is that I'll continue with the browning. Cincinnatians order their chili by a numbering system that's a bit esoteric to outsiders, so here's the skinny: "One-way" means a bowl of chili, with oyster crackers on the side. Apparently almost nobody does this. Then there's the "Two-way," which is the chili served over spaghetti (again, with the crackers). This seems to be the minimal way that people get this. I haven't been to Cincinnati myself, but in my researches every single photograph of this dish depicted as the "Three-way" at the very least, in which the chili over spaghetti is stopped by a Himalayan-sized mountain of finely grated mild cheddar cheese. I swear, the damn thing is almost half cheese (in fact, the Wikipedia entry on this dish claims the 2 million pounds of chili statistic, as well as 850,000 pounds of Cheddar -- that's a lotta cheese). A "Four-way" adds chopped white onion to the top, and the Cincinnati Chile Pièce de Résistance is the "Five-way," in which red kidney beans are added. According to hardcores, for a Five-way the kidney beans, warmed separately, must be placed on the plate first, then the spaghetti on top, then the chili and cheese and onions. That's a bit compulsive to me, as it's all going to get mixed together anyway, but whatever floats your local boat. A fun way to serve this is with bowls of onions, cheese and beans, and let everyone fix the dish themselves, their own way. The flavor of this stuff is fantastic, although I had to admit a bit of skepticism in the beginning as I started cooking ("This smells ... kinda weird.") At the end of its long cooking time (at least 90 minutes) though, everything gels into a beautiful oneness. Wes liked it, said it was "unusual," and said he wouldn't mind having it again, but "I can't imagine this on a hot dog." Well, Cincinnatians can, and a hot dog with Cincinnati chili on top is called a "coney" (after the Island, no doubt); it's served with mustard and onions. I'll try that too. I looked at about 20 recipes for this dish, and sometimes the kidney beans for the Five-way would also be listed with the option of "or refried beans," although I don't know if that's truly authentic. I had a great idea, though -- instead of the plain old whole kidney beans out of the can, try New Orleans' own Blue Runner Creole Cream-style red beans (or, of course, your own leftover homemade red beans). Those I'd put on the bottom. Man ... that sounds really good. Here's how I did it. Cincinnatians are welcome to chime in with yea, nay or suggestions.
Sorry, no pics ... it was after 9pm, we were hungry and I didn't want to bother. Fortunately lots of my fellow Flickr denizens have photographed their chili, and a classic Five-way should look something like this:  Photo by Scott Beale, reproduced under Creative Commons Needless to say I didn't put that much cheese, but at home you put on as little or as much as you like. I think the general rule of thumb is not to be timid with the toppings. I could be really inauthentic and throw some ground pork into the mix, and accompany dinner with a rousing chorus of Vic Damone's "Cincinnati Dancing Pig" ... [ Link to today's entries ]
Back. Two weeks of lethargy, lack of motivation and pure laziness seem to be over now. If I have any readers left ... hi! Here are a few things that kept me occupied over the holidays a few weeks ago: 
I had been swapping emails with Chris Hannah, bartender at Arnaud's French 75 Bar, and he had invited me to come by to have him make me one (or three, in this case, as Michael and Louise came along). 
As I have yet to have a Hoskins at any of the places that put them on the menu, this was the first time I've ever been served an original of mine at a bar without having to walk them through it. And to have it be the French 75 Bar, one of the best bars in the city at one of the city's oldest and most venerable Creole restaurants ... well, that was one heck of a Christmas present. Thanks a million, Chris.  Three Réveillons are better than one  The Monkey speaks his mind (and says, "I want a drink!") Then it was time for dinner. Arnaud's was long-booked and packed to the rafters, as were so many other restaurants in the Quarter, as this was Christmas Eve. Where would we be able to find a place with good food, open late, that wasn't packed with reserved tables? Our old friends at Coop's Place on Decatur, of course. They were busy but had a table for us, and we kept the fare simple and hearty.  Duck quesadilla, at Coop's Place  Bacon blue cheese burger at Coop's Place Their duck quesadilla is always terrific, and their burgers ... well, I was in a burgery mood, and this one, huge and thick and medium rare with bacon and blue cheese, hit the spot on that cold Christmas Eve (where nobody promised Broadway was waiting for me). Earlier I had gone to Mandina's with the folks, and was, as usual, torn between menu selections. I had already had some great fried seafood, and a couple of different hot sausage poor boys, and the pannéed veal (breaded veal cutlets) of my childhood were calling my name. Still, with all the great stuff on Mandina's menu (including their mindblowing hamburger poor boy, as I was in the aforementioned burgery mood), I couldn't decide. When the waiter arrived I used Wes' favorite method, which is to either present him with a choice of two dishes and ask him to pick his favorite, or to just say, "What do you eat here? What's your favorite dish?" Always a tough question at a place like Mandina's, but himself came through like a champion. "Y'know," the waiter said, "if I were going to eat right now what I'd want is a pannéed veal po-boy, dressed, with some melted mozzarella cheese, and a side dish of marinara sauce for dipping." Somehow he got inside my head, because that's really exactly what I wanted. 
Another very good late meal came from our old friends at Ye Olde College Inn on Carrollton, who took great care of me one night when I needed dinner at about 9:30 before heading back to the North Shore.  
I started with the classic Oysters en brochette, freshly-shucked oysters, wrapped in bacon, dusted with cornmeal and quickly fried. Oysters, bacon, frying ... how can you go wrong? My entrée was a tad healthier, though -- Grilled mahi-mahi topped with crawfish étouffée, served on seasoned grilled vegetables. Not as heavy as you'd think; in fact, despite the extremely generous serving of crawfish on the top it was a fairly light and refreshing dish, and entirely delicious. Whoo, no more of that for a while, though. But I'm down 4 pounds since Jan. 2, woooo! Kirk Joseph in in the hospital. The master sousaphonist from the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Sousafunk Avenue and many other New ORleans music ensembles suffered a massive heart attack last Friday, and needs assistance with his medical bills. Via Mary Katherine, here's a letter from Kirk's wife:
Kirk's one of the giants of New Orleans music and, as is typical of just about all of them, has no health insurance. Think of Kirk and help him out if you can. And think about the fact that the NUMBER ONE ISSUE in the upcoming presidential election is the one that's entirely in your interest. Either they're for health care for everyone, or they shouldn't be in office. [ Link to today's entries ]
First cocktail of 2008. Manhattan. Rittenhouse bonded rye whiskey, 100 proof. Carpano Antica Formula vermouth. Abbott's Bitters, 1 dash. (Wes was being extravagant.) Luxardo cherry. The year could hardly get off to a finer start. First meal of 2008. Oinkster. Angus beef burger. Gruyère cheese. Bacon. Avocado. Lettuce. Tomatoes (although out of season, meh). Aïoli. Hot mustard. Belgian frites. Chipotle ketchup. Proper Southern iced tea (i.e., no flowery crap in it), no sugar. All enjoyed enormously, but all the while with the thought, "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow yo' ass is back on Weight Watchers ..." New Year = "Lose 15 pounds, you fat bastard." Well, I did enjoy the last two weeks of indulgence, and now it's time to pay. I already needed to lose 9 or 10 before, and now it's a hefty 15. Weight Watchers, we start hittin' you pretty hard as of today. Feh. So of course, on the first day of this resolution, the Day Job kindly provides free "Welcome Back" bagels and cream cheese. Willpower fails. (Two-point can of soup for lunch is the result.) There will, of course, be interruptions for good meals and the cocktails will be worked in. (Gotta keep all the food pr0n coming, after all.) Figuring out how all this is going to work will be entertaining, at least. Happy New Year! What soon-to-be-broken resolutions have you made?! Cocktail blog rolling! My pal Vidiot, of telescreen.org, has started a new group weblog called Cocktailians. "We're interested in exploring cocktailian culture: cocktail recipes, reviews of drinking establishments, pictures of cocktails, roundups and links to other doings on the other cocktail blogs out there, tidbits of cocktailian history and ephemera, interviews with bartenders, and whatever else we can come up with. Ideas, responses, and comments are most welcome; this is a work in progress, with more features and information on the way, so return visits will be rewarded." I was pleased as Philadelphia Fish House Punch to be invited to participate, although I had to sheepishly admit that given my time commitments most of my content there would be regurgitated from here. I was assured that that was no problem, and hey, someone who doesn't read this rag might read Cocktailians, so it's always better to have more places to get the word out. There are two other authors so far, with more to come. I'll add it to the "Cocktail Hour" sidebar here, so do check it out sometime! Venom. From the "Things-I-Won't-Be-Eating-Much-Of-For-A-While Department" ... another mad soul takes a stab at making a burger out of ground bacon, and kicks it up a few notches with the Bacon Cheese Baconburger. I was hoping he'd have some advice for holding it all together and keeping the patty from falling apart, but alas, no. (A binding agent will be needed in case I'm ever nuts enough to do this again.) My favorite bit here, though, is this line (and thanks to Michael for sending it on):
Which reminds me of a t-shirt Michael spotted at Jazzfest last year: MEAT IS MURDER. Heh. December Looka! entries have been permanently archived. [ Link to today's entries ]
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| Several of my friends and loved ones (and a few kind strangers) contribute regularly to this weblog, providing links, comments and sometimes lots more. Thanks to Wesly Moore, Mike Luquet, Mary Herczog, Steve Hochman, Dave Schmerler, Nettie DeAugustine, Diana Schwam, Andy Senasac, Michael Yasui, Steve Gardner, Michael Pemberton, Steve Kelley, Barry Kelley, Eric Labow, Tom Krueger, Greg Beron, Sean Burke, Shari Minton and Barry Enderwick. |
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