slkinsey

As others have pointed out, there may be good reasons why the restaurant had to see your ID. That said, they handled it extremely poorly. Since it is obvious that you are not under the age of 21, the least they could have done is said something like: "Sorry for the inconvenience. I'm sure you're over 21, but the inspectors have told us (or the new law says, or whatever) that they want to see us check ID from every customer who will be drinking alcohol." This would have done two things. First, it would have explained that they weren't just doing it to break your balls and would have given you a reasonable motivation to comply cheerfully. Second, it would have given you the opportunity to say that you weren't going to be drinking alcohol anyway.

It depends on how long you let it burn. More burn = less alcohol content. In the grand scheme of things, you're unlikely to significantly reduce the alcohol content of a glass of sambuca by flaming it for a few seconds. The bottom line, though, is whether you like it. As long as you like it, what difference does it make what the alcohol content is?

Most of the time, if the recipe calls for "cherry brandy" it's asking for something like Cherry Heering. If the recipe wants kirsch or kirschwasser (they are the same thing, by the way) it will ask for kirsch(wasser).

You are living on the edge, dude.

This isn't exactly what they're saying. From the EPA site: This is not quite the same thing as saying "you can't use this stuff any more." It's saying, "you have to figure out ways to radically reduce emissions of and exposure to this stuff." Very, very different. I should point out, per my posts above, that the toxicity of PFOA doesn't really have anything to do with the toxicity of PTFE. Cooking on a PTFE surface won't expose you to lots of PFOA.

Glad to see this thread coming back to the top. Looking at my original premise for the thread -- "cocktails made with a mixture of liquors and then lightened with champagne rather than drinks that are fundamentally champagne with stuff added in (Bellinis, etc.)" -- I guess these would all be some kind of "Imperial Daisy." The "Daisy" part signifying that the drink is ligntened with a relatively small anount of carbonated liquid and the "Imperial" part signifying champagne as the carbonated liquid. Or does a Daisy also have to include sour?

Many of the cocktails call for gum syrup.

Salumeria Biellese.

Well, you have a point about the beer thing. Aeration and carbonation aren't the same thing, and of course I wouldn't want nitpicking of the beer example the obscure the main point I am making about cocktails. I was just trying to find a common and easy to understand example, but the beer one perhaps isn't best. With respect to perceived viscosity, however, I think it's perfectly easy to tell that a stirred Manhattan is more viscous than a shaken one. It also seems to be a widely accepted fact, for example, that lubricants that are aerated have reduced viscosity. So I'm not sure how one can disagree with the premise that an aerated drink is less viscous than a non-aerated drink (assuming a drink without eggs, cream, etc.). But if you have information to the contrary, or a better explanation of the OP's observed phenomenon, by all means offer it.

No... I would say that, everything else being equal, bubbles detract from perceived and actual viscosity (the two being related, but not exactly the same thing). Try this: Open a nice heavy ale and remove the carbonation to the greatest extent possible. You want a flat beer. Then open a fresh bottle of the same beer. Sample them side by side for mouthfeel. The flat beer is more viscous. Or, again... try making two identical Manhattans, one stirred and the other shaken. Sample them immediately. The stirred drink is more viscous. All other things being equal, a liquid full of bubbles should pour faster than the same liquid without bubbles. This means it is less viscous. There are many things that shaking can do to affect the texture of a drink, depending on the ingredients. Emulsification is certainly one, which is why shaking a drink with egg white or cream will often increase the viscosity. That said, I am not sure that I would always equate "creamy" with perceived viscosity. I also don't have a hard time believing that shaking drinks with fruit juice improves the mouthfeel. Indeed, this is standard practice. But, again... I wouldn't say that too many drinks with fruit juice have a mouthfeel I would describe as "viscous." Experimental results have shown that acidity acts to suppress perceived viscosity, so this only makes sense. In general, fruit juice drinks go for "lively" rather than "silky." Yes, that could have something to do with it in terms of perceived viscosity. But I also believe whiskey is higher than gin in terms of real viscosity to begin with. Mouthfeel is a complex perception, so I believe it is important not to mix descriptors too much. Viscosity, both real and perceived, is one discrete element of mouthfeel. Viscosity can be related to some of the other qualities you have used here (creamyness, smoothness, mouth-coating, etc.) but I think it's important to understand that it is not the same thing. A drink can be more smooth, creamy, mouth-coating, etc. and yet less viscous compared to another drink (for example, a Ramos Fizz is more creamy and mouth-coating compared to a stirred Manhattan, but less viscous)

Indeed, that comes out to just about an ounce. One reason that specifying amounts by "jiggers and ponies" isn't particularly useful unless you define the size of your jigger. This is one reason, among many, that a lot of the drinks in the earliest cocktail books are difficult to puzzle out.

Can you give any examples of this? Contrary to your assertion, other than some changes in proportions as tastes change, I have found a remarkable conformity in the ingredients for most classic cocktails from book to book through history. The only instances in which this has tended to not be true is when there never seems to have been any general agreement on the constituents of a certain drink -- perhaps because the original recipe was "lost" or because there were two different ingredient lists from the very beginning.

This is made by Noilly Prat, although it does not seem to be widely distributed. Unfortunately, there does not seem to be much information on Noilly Prat's web site, which doesn't even have a listing of all the products made by the company. As for the wine aging in barrels outside for a year, this is correct. But it is the same process that is used for all the Noilly Prat vermouth.

Hmm... I'm not sure I agree that the recipes in Gary's book would compare to an adaptation such as the one cited above with respect to the Alaska. I may not recall correctly, but I don't think any of Gary's recipes include nontraditional extra ingredients in a classic cocktail. I think it's always a given that a modern recipe book will give the author's preferred tweak of a classic cocktail, within certain parameters. So, if Gary's book specifies a 3:2:1 Sidecar instead of the 2:1:1 Sidecar that appears in so-and-so's book, I still think that's appropriately called a Sidecar (I'm just making up this example, but FWIW I believe Gary's book contains some discussion about tailoring the proportions to your taste and the properties of the cognac). If, on the other hand, Gary's book gave a recipe for a drink made with cognac, Cointreau, lemon juice and a splash of Benedictine and still called it a Sidecar... that would be a problem. Because a "Sidecar" with a splash of Benedictine would have an entirely different flavor profile from the classic, and therefore should really have a different name as it is a completely different cocktail. All that said, I do agree with what George and Audrey are saying. If the recipe is tweaked to the extent that the flavor profile really changes -- either by radically changing the proportions or, more commonly, by adding, subtracting or changing an ingredient -- it should have a different name.

Um, sorry... but you are incorrect on this. "Sauté" does not mean "cooked at high heat" or "cooked in a limited amount of fat" -- although both of these things are likely to be true of sautéing. The most important factor you have missed, however, is that sauté necessarily implies motion. In fact, it necessarily implies tumbling motion. I will explain: The word sauté is the past tense form (passé composé) of the French verb sauter. Sauter means "to jump." Sauté, then, means "jumped." Thus, a literal translation of poisson sauté would be "jumped fish." Jumped where, you ask? Jumped around in the pan. Similarly, the French compound form for the Frenglish verb "to sauté" is faire sauter or, "to make jump." Make it jump where? Jump around in the pan. This is mirrored in other romance languages such as Italian, where the term for sauteed bitter greens would be something like rape saltate in padella. The "saltate in padella part means "jumped (around) in a pan." To sum up: sauté equals jump. If you don't shake the pan and jump the food around, it ain't sautéing. Frying, on the other hand, simply means to cook something in a pan using some fat and without moving it around very much. It's not a question of the amount of fat. You can fry an egg in a thin film of fat, or you can fry an egg in an centimeter of fat. They're both fried. According to your usage, an egg cooked in a hot pan using a thin film of fat would be called a "sautéed egg." Actually, use of the word "fry" to describe submerging piece of food in hot fat is not particularly useful. "Deep fried" food is really "boiled in oil" and not fried at all. I suppose we call it "fried" because the exterior comes out crisp. But, I digress... People like to say things like "sautéed fish" for several reasons, among which are the perception that "sauté" sounds "fancy" and "culinary," a desire to avoid the negative connotations that come with the perception that frying required a lot of fat, and of course a basic misunderstanding of the word "sauté."

I like Shalmanese's technique of drawing a knife across the skin to get out the last bit of moisture. A minute dusting of Wondra just prior to taking the fish to the pan is okay, but not always necessary. I'm more likely to do it with whole fish, which is harder to get completely dry using the knife trick compared to a fillet because it is not flat. I'll usually go with high heat and very little grapeseed oil in a nonstick skillet. I've done it over extra-high heat using stainless lined heavy copper as well, but you have to be much more careful about crowding the pan and you have to use more fat. Cast iron... if I'm going for crispy skin, I don't like to use a cast iron skillet because the tall straight sides don't allow the steam to escape with the same efficiency as the short sloped sides of a frypan. It also makes it much more difficult to get a spatula in there to turn the fish. My usual technique for something like a crispy skin salmon fillet is skin side down until it's cooked 80% of the way through. Then a gentle flip over, turn the heat off and plate it skin side up. I should probably point out, for the sake of clarity, that we are not talking about sautéed fish. One does not usually sauté fish. Sautéing is when you put chunks of food in a hot sauté pan and then shake the pan back and forth to tumble the chunks of food around and brown them on all sides. If you do this with fish, it will fall apart. We're talking about frying here.

Some people aren't fond of the Fee aromatic bitters, but I like them a lot. To me, they seem to have more of a clove top note as opposed to Angostura's cinnamon top note. I think the Fee's is a perfect match with Laird's bonded.

Gin sour is just gin plus sugar plus lemon juice. "Silver" means that it has egg white.

Oh, believe me... it's not because they don't want to, or for lack of trying. It's astounding how long it takes to bring a product into the US. Oh... and while you're making a wish list, don't forget Plymouth's damson gin. One of my favorite cocktologists made me some silver gin sours with a garnish of bitters and a float of this damson gin. Delightful.

For a reasonable price, you might look for something like this at a Crate & Barrel-type place (sorry for the out-of-focus picture): Or look on eBay for something like this:

You mean these? Awesome, aren't they? AFAIK, they get them from an outfit in Germany & they're not available at retail in the US. I think it may be possible to order them, but I don't think they're cheap. Especially if you are only getting one or two. Also, I'm not sure I'd call them "small." They each stand around 7 of 8 inches tall.

For me, it wouldn't be "Boy Scout food" unless it was cooked over a fire that had been started with white fuel when someone wasn't looking. Sam (a Life Scout -- the "ABD" of Scouting)

Hmm. I guess three hours each way is a little too much for you to drive up to NYC and buy some Peychaud's at Pegu Club.

All liquids have increased viscosity when the temperature is lowered. Viscosity may be simply described as a "fluid's internal resistance to flow" (more detailed info avaible here from Wikipedia). Think about how pourable simple syrup is when it is heated up, and how thick and slow it is when you take it out of the refrigerator. The difference is viscosity as a function of temperature. The same thing is happening to that Manhattan when you stir it with ice. Liquors like bourbon and rye already tend to have more viscosity than gin or vodka, and when you chill the liquid the temperature-dependent increase in viscosity is magnified. This is why, although a stirred Martini is also silky, it's not quite as silky as a stirred Manhattan. The dilution of the drink by water is also important, because water has higher viscosity than alcohol at low temperature (alcohol remains fairly low viscosity at low temperature). This is why a drink that is chilled by stirring with ice is more viscous than one made with pre-chilled undiluted spirits. The reason a stirred drink is silky and viscous compared to a shaken drink (assuming it is the same drink) is that the act of shaking incorporates air into the liquid, which decreases the sensation of viscosity and contributes a certain "lively" impression. But, as we all like to say about shaken drinks, you have to drink them quickly while they're still laughing at you (thanks to Harry Craddock for that bon mot). This is because the aeration provided by shaking will dissipate if you wait too long. If you make a stirred drink and a shaken drink and let them sit on the bar for a minute before sampling, you'll find that they're more or less the same by that time. Yet another argument for the three ounce drink, IMO. This is a little more complicated than the idea that the molecules are slower when the drink is chilled because, as explained above, a Manhattan made by stirring with ice will be more viscous than a Manhattan made with pre-chilled spirits by virtue of the added water content, even though the latter might in fact be colder and therefore have "slower moving molecules."

The only commercially produced real sloe gin -- which is to say, gin infused with sloe berries and sweetened -- of which I am aware is made by Plymouth. Sadly, it is currently not imported into the United States, although we hear that it may be coming to the US within the next year or so. Those of us who have had the opportunity to try some of the Plymouth product can attest to its excellence. The "sloe gin flavored liqueurs" made by the likes of Leroux and DeKuyper are syrupy abominations not worthy of the name sloe gin.