Alchemist

Did the A.H. Hirsch distillery close down? Why are their prices going up so much?

It all depends on the kind of bar where one is tending. I have been a babysitter, shrink, and father figure. I prefer to be a cocktailian Virgil to the customers Dante.

I use a jigger with two oz. on one side and one oz. on the other and a standard barspoon for very small amounts.

Why arn't there more theaters with good cafes in them, like the Angelika? The peanut butter brownies are so good with a nice hot, espresso. Soo much better than normal concession food. I think Stoli Vanil and Diet should be a crime no matter where it's consumed. Brew & View Rocks!

I would agree about The red Tabasco. I like the green. It's not as spicey but has a wonderful flavor. I really like Franks and Louisiana for red hot sauce.

Drunkenly slovenly elves would do well to visit Charles at the Blue Owl.

I would have to agree that it is a management problem. And the problem is that the management only will give one or two uniforms to each employee. If you work four or five shifts a week that means laundry three to five times a week. And if you work a late shift finishing at two am and then need to be back to open at four, or God forbid 11am for lunch, it is neigh on impossible to keep pristine. The only way I know to stop this is to not have uniforms. Or all black. This way the employee can buy a five dollar clean shirt if they need to. And whose brilliant idea was it to have waiters and bartenders wear white? For the love of all things good and true, is there a worse thing to wear if you're dealing with red wine and cranberry juice for eight hours?

Then the waiter/waitress Can go to their land lord tell them how much they love living in their apartment, and wonderful the service the landlord provides is. Then give them 1/2 the rent. Verbal tippage doesn't pay the bills.

In Thailand I had tzeeki (sp) cucumber, garlic and yogurt made with stawberry yogurt.

I found an interesting bargain last night, on Valentines Day. I went to my local video store and saw that the DVDs that hunkered below a red light bulb all the way in the back corner far from the prying eyes of prudish right wingers, and the sticky fingers of children were half price. I was headed into the city to watch movies, and order in pizza and salad from Patsys and open a lovely bottle of red wine. I picked up some movies, but should have asked if the romantic comedies were ten dollars each. The pizza was wonderful. edited for spelling

Twenty years ago I would have won with a few species of horrible tasting mushrooms, and a couple of kinds of weed that smelled so good when burned. Now I have three types of roux. Including blond, noisette, and black. I realize this isn't dead animals, but a few of of my friends find it strange to have different colored flour and butter.

I mentioned Spike Hill (on the notorious corner of 7th and Bedford) before. I go there because it has such a wide and esoteric collection of whiskeys. But i hadn't realized they do flights of whiskeys. They have a domestic flight, an aer lingus flight, and three international flights. Which are coach, bussiness, and first class. I'm not sure of the prices or ounces. I like the idea of getting a few friends togather and giong round the world.

There is a dish we called the heart attack on a plate. I'm not sure what it's called in dutch. A pork loin well trussed. a lot of unslated butter. heavy cream green peppercorns salt Rinse the loin and pat dry. Bring the meat to room temp. In a cast iron Dutch oven melt enough butter to cover half the lion. Salt the pork liberly. Using large spoons, no tongs, and may you be srtuck dead uf you even think about a two tine, a fork a knife, or even a toothpick. One is to have only rounded thoughts, a prickily mood will pierce the delicate skin, releasing its precious juices. Gently lower the glistining roast into the butter. The butter should be hot but not hot enough to smoke brown or smoke. This is a delicate ballet keeping the heat where it should be. Once the lower part is seared, turn the loin using your spoons. Lower the heat once the other side is seared. Cook through, but do not over cook. Remove the roast and let rest. Add cream and crushed green peppercorns. The sauce should have a bite. Salt to taste. Slice the loin against the grain. This was served with plain boiled poratoes of rice. And green beans. it is in no way the most visually spectacular dish, but you will want to put that sauce on everything!

Since routine has changed to ritual I must share the way it's done in north west Sumatra. I ended up spending two excruciatingly long weeks in Sibolga, due to missing the boat to Nias by fifteen rain soaked minutes. I cannot for the life of me remember why I stayed in this horrific cesspool of a town when all around me were the beautiful rain forests, peopled by noble Orangutans. There were only two hotels in town each worse than the other. One was run by the mosquitoes, the one cross town by cockroaches. Hoping to spend my time in fever induced delirium, I chose the one with a tiny lanai overlooking a marsh seething with exotic, tropical diseases. It took twenty four hours to get a cold beer. There were only two things on the menu that were edible: Nasi Goering, and Mee Goering (rice or noodles, fried). I had one book. So the hours stretched out before me to the horizon, impossibly long, with nary a ripple of excitement. But there was coffee. Kopi tubrik, or kopi susu. Kopi tubrik is a lightly roasted bean, ground and dropped into a plain, straight sided glass. The grind must not be so rough that it won't bob about on the on the murky surface malignly waiting to get stuck in your teeth. But if it is too fine the sludge creeps up the side of the glass as sneakily as a ninja, and gets stuck in your teeth. One then adds hot water that was hopefully bottled or at least boiled to avoid a cornucopia of parasites that make ebola seem as innocent as a rosy cheeked little girl eating an ice cream in sunday school. You then give it a good stir. The grounds swirl, a captured tempest. One then waits. You stare as deeply into the glass as a fortune teller into her crystal ball, it seems to take forever for the grounds to settle. This is a type of anticipation as tantalizing as heavy petting. The sun is rising, sending song birds into a frenzy. Eddie, a rickshaw driver who appointed himself Sibolga welcome wagon, and department of tourism, somehow always knew when to show up. Dragging a battered chair from another table he would order a kopi susu manis. It made my teeth jangle contemplating how sweet that cup was going to be. Eddie would then line up three or four djarum cigarettes (whose emblem is a coffin nail, gotta love truth in advertising) on the table. we would chat about what to do that day. a trip to a waterfall, maybe over to the other hotel to see if there were anyone with a book in english. I savored the coffee, but eddie always drank his like he had a plane to catch. A plane that was leaving soon. Once he finished the liquid in the glass, he would scoop up the sticky sweet mush and carefully put a line down each of the cigarettes. As the frightening mixture of sweetened condensed milk and leeched coffee grounds dried I would order yet another plate of greasy fried rice, with a destroyed egg on top. And then eddie would smoke the coffee laced, clove cigarettes. One after another. and what one must remember is that this man made his living by running around, toting a cart loaded with everything from squawking chickens to dreadlocked surfers, boards sticking out like inflated jousting poles. I guess it was the magic of the kopi susu that kept his lungs working day after day. edited for spelling

The way I learned Stampot is quite different. But my teacher was Dutch Indonesian. It is a deeply satisfying one pot meal that is best on cold grey days, when not only the body but the heart needs warming. I would never condone eating this after visiting a coffee shop, but if you do, double receipe. Two large bunches of kale 5 lb. potatoes two medium onions two large smoked sausage of good quality butter, cream, allspice, S&P to taste. My ex-girlfriend's mother showed me how to make this dish, on a sunny so-cal day. She was such a talented cook that a measuring cup never darkened her kitchen drawers. The end result of this dish should be wonderfully rich mashed potatoes, imbued with exotic allspice, and porkey smokiness, that have become green with kale. In a huge pot place peeled potatoes. Add rough cut onions. Fill with water so it just covers potatoes, add some salt. Top with well cleaned, and stemmed kale. Make small slices in sausage, and nestle amongst the culie-cues of kale. Sprinkle a bit of salt, and cover. Crank the heat until the water is boiling. Decrease heat, and cook until potatoes are done. Remove the sausage, place on a serving dish and cover. Mash kale into the potatoes, adding lots of butter and cream. Salt and pepper to taste. You must handle the allspice as carfully as Nitro, the dish shouldn't taste of allspice. It should drift around you like a dream. Like a dream of a sugarplum fairy. The sausage will have created some smoky ambrosia through the wonder of osmosis. Add to potatoes. Mix in. Serve a Close Encounter portion of potatoes with a Hedgehog portion of sausage. Try to forget about hedgehogs. It's easy to reheat. And if you freshen the spices, the leftovers will be awesome when you get back from the coffee shop the next day. edited for spelling

I like the sambals, oolek, bajak, and trassy. The ones I prefer are from Indonesia. The oolek is fresh chilis, the bajak is fermented and the trassy has fermented shrimp paste in it so it has that tropical, asian funk, of kim chee. Which brand you like is a matter of taste.

I must say this thread has yielded some of the most delectable food writing i've seen on e-gullet. Bravo. I am not sure whether i am blessed or cursed. A brisk five minute walk from my Williamsburg Apt. is Oslo, this wonderful little cafe that has what Gourmet mag. calls arguably the best espresso in the five boroughs. (the spelling mistakes are mine, not Gourmet's) So morning, which usually starts somewhere around two in the afternoon due to the nature of my work, starts with tug of war. I have grounds, milk, filtered water in the house. Oslo is eight blocks away. I turn on my computer. It would be much more productive to just whip up a nice pot of coffee, settle down in front of my computer, and begin procrastinating immediately. But Oslo, with its velvety crema floating cloudlike atop Zeuses own lightning bolts, is just down the street. Then like any good junkie I start in with the justification, denial, and bargaining. "Well" I say to myself, "If I get one of those espressos with the cream shaken with a vanilla bean, it will be much better for my psyche than boring old coffee made here. Boring coffee is a really demoralizing way to start the day. I don't know how to make really good coffee. If I do some work first then I'll deserve it." I will go into the kitchen, putter around, starting the ritual of caffeination. I know before the water gets lukewarm that I will be putting on the B-burg couture, and trudging to Oslo. Decked in a hoodie that says Brooklyn (in case i get lost and need someone to point me home), 501's, and boots worn down at the heel from aimless, existential trudgings, I head down Bedford Ave, trying to decide exactly how many shots of espresso I can take before cardiac arrest. Oslo is a well lighted, spare room that says scandinavian, without a whisper of Ikea. The baristas are knowledgeable, and friendly. And the espresso...is like a stampede of Libason (Lipizzaner, who knew they were from Austria, not the border of Lisbon, and Libya) stallions in a demitasse cup. It's not bitter in a bad way. It has some acidity, but is balanced with its richness. I have three. It will be humanly impossible to procrastinate by the time I get home. It was worth all the hemming and hawing. Edited twice for spelling by a drunken slovenly dyslectic. My actual editor had to go to her real job.

I'm sorry. I was neither questioning the journalistic integrity of the fine people of Esquire nor doubting the far flungness of the places of your inebriation. I will keep reccomending bars, with your criteria in mind. And I may be the first, but hopefully not the last, to reccomend a bar that I don't remember the name of, I too have been a wee bit tipsy in an outer bourough as well. The bar on the corner of 21st and Jackson, under the Court Street station on the 7 line. It has a bar that was rescued from a ferry the plied the mighty East tidal estuary. I belive from Staten Island to upstate. The Old Town Bar The bar at Son Cubano

Jeffery Stiengarten would disagree with the statement that water that tastes like nothing tastes best. You should check out his essay Water in "The Man Who Ate Everything". Bet he would feel ill reading that first sentence.

Are you taking suggestions in all bouroughs? I see you are taking reccomendations in Hawaii, Millwalkee, and Seattle, but can you find anyone at Esquire intrepid enough to go to Queens?

I belive one can follow the creation of this (Cornwall Negroni) cocktail on the phoney baloney negroni thread.

it's also $10.87 on amazon, and if i get my order up over $25 i get free shipping (cue host with eG-friendly link). so, imagine i love me some fun oldschool recipes like a pegu club and an aviation and a fancy free and whatnot. and imagine i only have one bartender book. what else should i buy to get my order up over $25? anyone? ← Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails Killer Cocktails is very good, as is Dale DeGroff's The Craft of the Cocktail Those three books oughta keep you busy for a while. And yes - those are eGullet friendly links. And read the fine print on that "Free" shipping. I've gotten myself screwed more than once trying to get my order over the magical threshold only to discover that my purchases weren't eligible for the free shipping offer until after I'd spent more money than I needed to. ← Don't forget Jigger Beaker and Glass by Charles H. Baker. I'ts $16ish and worth twice the price.

What exactly do you mean by a "Good Bar"? Bars with sublime cocktails like Pegu, Little branch, M&H, EO, and East Side Co. is one thing. But what about Motor City? How about sitting in front of the fire place in the Back Room on a cold winter night sipping bourbon from a tea cup. The following bars are wonderful for one reason or another IMHO. Spike Hill (Williamsburg) Red Rock West Black Betty (WB) Bemelmans Passerby Lucky Jacks (Great Guinness) The bar in Painters Inn In Cornwall on Hudson Belmont Lounge Park Bar O'neals on Grand Tile Bar Great Jones Cafe I'm sure I will think of more.

I know this an undertaking of Herculean effort, but nothing sublime is ever easy. The Ramos gin fizz. Described by C.H.B. Jr. requires eight to twelve earnest, buff gentlemen to shake this cocktail till their arms are tired and they must grudgingly pass the nectar to the next, for further shaking. I would do it a little like this. Twenty four hours before you are planning to make this cocktail, get your freezer as cold as possible, and then put filtered water in vessels that can easily be sculpted to fit into your favored shaking apparatus. then find the best of... 2.0 oz strongly backboned gin (beefeater is the favorite of my favorite mixologist.) .50 oz lemon juice .50 oz lime juice .50 oz simple (I am teasing this since you are working with a syrup, not a water) 1.0 oz cream 1 large egg white (put in first if there is the merest plume of yolk start over.) 1 barspoon orange flower syrup (or better, go get a bottle of French-made orange flower water because it is less oily than the orange flower water made in the Middle East. Then bump the simple syrup up to .75 oz and put in 2-10 drops of orange flower water depending on your palate instead of the syrup.) Merest hint of soda Shake all ingredients except for the soda until your arms ache. Then shake a little further. Strain into a chilled highball glass. Put lip of freshly opened soda bottle on rim of glass. Turning glass 360 degrees, dribble soda in until you have reached positive miniscus. The first sip of this cocktail should leave a whisper of espuma on your nose. edited to correct typos

Vya is a wonderful product but IMHO it might be a little too much for a soft gin like Tanq #10. Noilly Prat might be a better match. I would pair it with light simple ingrediants and then Regans Orange Bitters #6. An orange gin, Just Gin, bitters and bitters would be lovely.