No time to waste in cushioning our systems, and Gawd knows we need the relaxation and civilization involved with cocktailian cuisine.

Wes found this one in Gary Regan’s The Joy of Mixology, and when we tried it not only did we love it, but it set off a huge lightbulb over my head. The proportions of this drink sent me back to the drawing board with some ingredients I’d been struggling with in order to create a new drink, and after one last try I nailed it. I’ll post it as soon as I think of what to name it. In the meantime, enjoy this one from the 1930s.

The Bennett Cocktail

2 ounces gin.
1 ounce fresh lime juice.
1/2 ounce simple syrup.
2 dashes Angostura bitters.

Shake and strain; lime wheel garnish.

The combination of lime and bitters, always a superb one, works beautifully here.

[NOTE: Cinnabar, alas, closed in 2005. She is sorely missed.]

Well, what we did, to answer Ella Fitzgerald’s musical question, was go to Cinnabar.

Wes and I went with our friends Chris and MJ to our favorite local restaurant’s annual end of the year bash, featuring a multi-course prix-fixe dinner, a jazz combo, hats and noisemakers, bubbly and a steady flow of cocktails from their renowned cocktailian bar.

As Cinnabar is one of those rare places where you can get a really good cocktail, we made certain to hit the bar first. As I may have mentioned before, their bar (including the back bar) was rescued from the late, lameneted Yee Mee Loo bar in Downtown L.A., which was bought up and scheduled for demolition about 14 years ago (then sadly sat derelict because the raze-and-build-condos plan didn’t come off quite like the developers planned). It’s gorgeous, and there are always fun and interesting people around it. Behind the stick was Eric, the new bartender hired to replace our pal Bob, their longtime weekend bartender who left to go back to school. We’re still keeping an eye on Eric — really nice guy who made us spectacular Booker’s Old Fashioneds, but something was a little off with that Negroni I had later. Next time I’ll have to ask him how he makes it, because Cinnabar is famous for their own take on the Negroni (basically doubling the Campari and adding orange bitters), a take we’ve become particularly fond of:

The Cinnabar Negroni

2 ounces Campari.
1 ounce gin.
1 ounce sweet vermouth.
2 dashes orange bitters.

Shake and strain; orange wheel garnish.

This is a big, delicious, bitter slap upside the head, in the best possible way. Wake up that palate and get it ready for some food!

We caused a bit of a ruckus when it became apparent that no one had remembered to notify the restaurant that one of our party was a vegetarian (“I keel you!”, said co-owner Flame, with much justification), but Chef Damon came through beautifully, and our vegetarian didn’t go hungry (although we probably could have gotten more of a planned menu if we had remembered to call … oh well).

Here was the menu I chose:

Amuse Bouche:
Sevruga Caviar on a Crispy Potato Lollypop, with Lemon Crème Fraîche. A thin slice of potato, stuck on a lollypop stick and fried crisp until it’s like a thick chip … whimsical! Plopped on the side was the dollop of crème fraîche and the caviar.

Appetizers:
1. Foie Gras Terrine with Lemon Pear Compote. Just say “foie gras” to me and I’m all over it. About a 3/8″ slice of terrine, which went well with the sweet compote. It was gone very, very quickly.)

2. Dungeness Crab Cake in Shredded Phyllo with Avocado Vinaigrette. This was one of the highlights of the meal. It looked gorgeous, like a bird’s nest or some kind of chrysalis, sitting in a pool of thick, green, spicy vinaigrette. The crab cake was wrapped in the shredded phyllo and quickly deep-fried, but was light and crisp and without the slightest trace of oiliness. The sweet crabmeat and the spicy vinaigrette were perfect together.

Intermezzo:
Lychee Sorbet, served in a Champagne flute. This was wonderful, not too sweet and a perfect palate cleanser. I lucked out, as Wes and MJ were served a raspberry sorbet (” … the kiiind you find in a second-hand store” … um … sorry) which was good but not as good as the lychee.)

Main course:
Filet Mignon and Foie Gras wrapped in Phyllo with a Ruby Port Glaze. Okay, there’s a bit of a motif here … I was going for foie gras all around, having chosen this entrée instead of the Roasted Maine Lobster Tail with Tarragon Hollandaise and the Macadamia-Crusted Turbot with Lime Leaf Butter and a Rock Shrimp Spring Roll, so I ended up doubling up on the phyllo as well. No worries; how often do I get to eat phyllo anyway? This was solid, not shredded, and the dish was like an upscale Beef Wellington. The filet was perfect; tender and medium rare. On top inside the pastry was a luxurious level of richnessa added from the slice of foie gras, and the tart Port sauce cut right through all that richness with a fruity tang. I so rarely eat filet that this was a real treat. I washed it down with a glass of the house Bordeaux, which I forgot to write down.

Dessert:
Ginger Macadamia Nut Cake with Citrus Chocolate Mousse and Chocolate Sauce. The other choice was a mixed berry mini-cheesecake with a berry coulis, which I’m sure was good, but … jeez, in the face of this other choice, who in the world would order it?! We did see someone at the next table who had one, and I imagined him to be some kind of chocolate hater whom I regarded with a mixture of contempt and pity. This dessert was out of this world — rich rich rich without being overwhelming, with the touch of spiciness from the ginger keeping the richness in check. I looked both ways and wiped up the chocolate sauce with my finger when no one was looking.)

We were having such a good time that I didn’t even think to take pictures of the dishes (duh) until the dessert arrived, even though I had meant to shoot the entire meal. Ah well. If my mind weren’t so absent and if my camera weren’t so clunky, I’d probably manage to do it. I’ll have to work on at least one of those this year. Anyway, here’s dessert:

It tasted even better than it looks.

Then came party hats, noisemakers, bubbly and FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! (*hoooooooonk*) Hugs, kisses, Auld Lang Syne.

It was a really fun way to spend New Year’s, and we’ll probably do it again. To cap it all off, they weren’t in a hurry to get rid of everybody, so we hung out for another hour or so and sobered up enough to drive home safely. Now I’ve gotta spend the next week eating rabbit food to make up for all that foie gras …

New Orleans’ own “nectar”, that is — it began life as a soda fountain flavor at Katz and Besthoff drugstores in the Crescent City (known to the locals, of course, as “K&B”). I’m just barely old enough to remember the soda fountains at K&B — great burgers and fries, BLTs and, of course, those fabulous nectar sodas and floats.

Nectar is a New Orleans original, and I’ve had a hankering for it lately. Deep red, with an almond-vanilla flavor that was best described as tasting “like wedding cake”, it may have died out when the soda fountains did, but still lives on as a sno-ball flavor, and has even been resurrected by a little company in Mandeville. A little Googling revealed a forum on nectar on eGullet, a wonderful article from the Times-Picayune about it, and I was pleased to see that the New Orleans Nectar Soda Company is still around, kind of — their website has no real content, although when I was home for Christmas I bought a bottle of New Orleans Nectar Soda at the Rouse’s in the Quarter.

Pableaux Johnson, who wrote the T-P article, also says, “Folks craving the goodness of nectar closer to home might do well to check the shelves of a neighborhood grocery store. The Mandeville-based Nectar Soda Co. sells fridge-friendly six-packs of the stuff for open-and-sip convenience. The company also markets 16-ounce bottles of the syrup for those keen on mixing their own.

Syrup and soda are available at Dorignac’s, Langenstein’s Metairie Road store and most Sav-a-Center stores. Call (877) 463-2827 or e-mail nscmail (at) nectarsoda (dot) com for information.”

He was also kind enough to provide some “nectar sipping spots”, places in the Crescent City where you can go and have a soda the old-fashioned way:

Sophie’s Ice Cream, 1912 Magazine St. (504) 561-0291
Tuesday- Sunday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Closed Monday

Creole Creamery, 4924 Prytania St. (504) 894-8680
Sunday-Thursday, Noon to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday, Noon to 11 p.m.

Plum Street Snowballs, 1300 Burdette St. (504) 866-7996
Monday-Saturday, Noon – 9 p.m., Sunday, 2 – 9 p.m.
Closed Oct. 15 through March 15

Ah, Plum Street. I couldn’t even begin to count the number of huge Chinese takeout tubs full of finely shaved ice and syrup I’ve had there over the years. There you won’t get a soda or a float, but a gorgeous sno-ball drenched with nectar syrup and topped with a frightening amount of sweetened condensed milk. Heaven.

Finally, for do-it-yourselfers, I managed to find some homemade nectar recipes and made up a batch of both syrups. Recipe no. 1 seems to be the one; I wasn’t all that thrilled with no. 2, but maybe with tweaking (like more sugar, less water) it’d work.

Most importantly … when you’re making nectar soda, DO NOT use club soda! Use sparkling/carbonated water only, with a sodium content of 0. Club soda contains salt and sodium bicarbonate, and that really throws off the flavor of the nectar. If you’ve got a soda siphon, this is the perfect thing to use it for (other than gin fizzes, of course).

NECTAR SYRUP I
3 cups granulated sugar
1-1/2 cups water
1 tablespoon of vanilla extract
2 tablespoon almond extract
1/2 teaspoon red food coloring

Bring sugar and water to a boil over medium heat. Let mixture cook about 8 to 10 seconds. Cool. Add vanilla, almond and coloring. Makes about 1 pint.

NECTAR SYRUP II
3 cups sugar
6 cups water
1 can sweetened condensed milk
4 tablespoons vanilla extract
4 tablespoons almond essence
2 teaspoons red food coloring

Over low heat dissolve sugar and water. Bring to a boil. Cool. Add the condensed milk, vanilla extract, almond essence and red coloring. Stir well. Store in refrigerator. Makes about 1-1/2 quart.

NECTAR SYRUP III (quick and dirty)
1 bottle Torani vanilla syrup
1 bottle Torani almond syrup.
2 teaspoons red food coloring.

Combine both syrups. Add coloring. Rebottle.
Makes 2 bottles. (This actually isn’t half-bad.)

NECTAR SODA
Nectar syrup
Sparkling/carbonated water or seltzer (NO sodium!).

Pour an inch or so of nectar syrup into a tall glass. Fill with sparkling water and ice. Stir to mix.

NECTAR FLOAT
Nectar syrup
Vanilla ice cream
Sparkling/carbonated water or seltzer (NO sodium!)

Pour an inch of nectar syrup into a tall glass. Add a scoop of vanilla ice cream and sparkling water. Stir to mix. Serve with a scoop of ice cream on top or whipped cream and a cherry.

NEW ORLEANS NECTAR ICE CREAM
2 cups whole milk
2 cups heavy cream
1 cup nectar syrup (homemade or purchased New Orleans Nectar®)
8 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar, or to taste.

(For this recipe you may want to experiment with the amount of sugar.)

In a heavy saucepan bring whole milk and heavy cream to a boil, reduce to a simmer and then remove from heat. Stir in nectar syrup and put the milk mixture to the side.

In a separate bowl whisk egg yolks with sugar until smooth. Return milk mixture to heat and bring to simmer again, slowly whisking in the egg yolk mixture. Strain the combined mixture through a fine-mesh sieve and cool. Proceed according to your ice cream maker’s instructions.

Makes 1 quart.

That oughta keep you busy for a while. Happy Thanksgiving!

… is named Żubrówka.

Or “bison grass vodka”, which is perhaps a bit easier to pronounce than “zhu-BROOV-ka”. I’d been meaning to try this stuff for a while, since our friends Gregg and Mike had brought us some back from Paris. It’s the classic traditional Polish vodka, infused with native bison grass, which gives it an extremely distinctive flavor and straw-green color. Dr. Cocktail has been singing the praises of it for ages, while telling us the American brands have been artificially flavored for a while. Apparently bison grass contains coumarin, a substance with anticoagulant properties that’s also responsible for much of its flavor.

Waiting for an occasion, I suppose, we never cracked open the bottle of Żubrówka that’s been in our freezer since the boys brought it from Paris, but opportunity presented itself for a taste last night. We had dinner at Warszawa, the excellent Polish restaurant in Santa Monica, before heading to McCabe’s to see the Savoy Family Band play. It had been years since I’d been, and it was even better than I remember — bacon wrapped plums, crispy potato pancakes, grilled kielbasa sausages, pierogis of every description, beef stroganoff, thick pea soup with smoked ham and marjoram, smoked fish salad with dill … and Żubrówka! There it was, listed on the spirits menu, and what better time to try it than before a Polish meal. It arrived in a little vodka glass, ice cold right from the freezer.

I know a true Pole would scoff at me, but instead of knocking the whole thing back, I took a healthy sip first, as I wanted to savor it and get the entirety of the aroma and flavor.

Oh, my.

I instantly fell in love with this stuff. Spicy, yet almost sweet but not syrupy like a liqueur; paradoxically, it was dry yet reminded me of candy — traces of caramel and nougat and vanilla. It also tasted like green herbs, but not medicinal. I tasted flowers, and lemon, and even coconut (!), and so many things going on in there. This stuff’s dangerous. I immediately wanted more.

I’ve never read Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, but in it one character describes the flavor of Żubrówka as smelling of “freshly mown hay and spring flowers, of thyme and lavender, and it’s soft on the palate and so comfortable, it’s like listening to music by moonlight.” I can dig it.

After enjoying our Polish meal and two-plus hours of the finest Cajun music to be heard, the very first thing we did when we got home was to crack open our bottle of authentic Polish Żubrówka. The difference between the domestic Polish and European version and the type produced for export to America is that the most authentic Żubrówka has a long blade of bison grass in the bottle, and the American version doesn’t due to USDA regulations. Apparently there’s also some artificial flavoring involved as well, although I’m not certain about that now (at least one website claims that true bison grass vodka is now legal in all 50 states). The French bottling, which we had, looks like this.

It was goooooood. It was … well, it was like the stuff we had at the restaurant, only a bit more complex, certainly subtler. It was great. However, once we run out of this stuff (and it won’t be long), I think that for the time being I’ll still be happy with the American-export version.

They say that if you travel to Poland and start drinking with the locals, don’t ever try to outdrink them (unless you’re Russian, and then only maybe). I’d better be very careful. If I’m in Warszawa or Cracow, drinking with locals, and they bring this stuff out, I’m a dead man … ’cause it’s so good I would have no incentive to stop unless I become unconscious.

Na zdrowie!

From what I understand, most if not all Poles would consider the consumption of Żubrówka in a cocktail as being a crime, an offence against decency, utter blasphemy. It’s to be consumed ice-cold, alone and quickly. However, my research seems to have uncovered an exception …

This drink, which translates from Polish as “apple tart” and is also sometimes called “Tatanka”, appears to be the one exception to the prohibition against mixing Żubrówka with anything else, and seems to be looked upon fondly. You won’t believe how tasty this is.

Szarłotka
(pronounced “shar-WOT-ka”, I think)

1 ounce Żubrówka (Polish bison grass vodka).
3-4 ounces apple juice.
Lemon wedge.

In a heavy rocks glass, build over ice and stir.
Garnish with the lemon wedge.

Contrary to what seems to be Polish popular opinion, I think that Żubrówka would make an excellent cocktail ingredient. Only two exist in CocktailDB, and I’ve already got some ideas.

Today’s L.A. Times Food Section also featured a recipe for a yummy looking drink, non-alcoholic no less, kinda of like a virgin Mojito, that’s a signature cooler at Susan Feniger and Mary Sue Milliken’s restaurants Ciudad and Border Grill. It looks like just the thing to help take the edge off the beastly hot and dry Santa Ana winds, which are supposed to start blowing in the next day or so. (I hate da Sanna Anas … too dry! I miss da humidity!)

Ciudad Minty Lime Cooler

1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice
1/4 packed cup mint leaves
1/3 cup sugar, or more to taste
16 ounces (2 cups) club soda
4 mint sprigs
4 lime wedges

Blend the lime juice and mint in a blender until the mint is finely chopped. Remove from the blender and stir in the sugar.

Add ice to a tall 12-ounce glass. Add one-quarter cup lime-mint mixture and one-half cup club soda to each glass. Stir to combine. Garnish with fresh mint and a lime wedge.

These’ll look great in our new Mignon Faget Fleur-de-Lis Tumblers, too. (Um, I’m sure a few lil’ squoits o’ rum wouldn’t hoit, now, would it?)