slkinsey

The Last Word cocktail offers us a very interesting look into the cocktail revival and the evolution of cocktail culture. And we all played a part! Back in 2004 when Murray Stenson put the Last Word on the menu at Zig Zag, it was an obscure cocktail that practically no one had ever heard about. If you walked into a top cocktail bar other than Zig Zag and asked for a Last Word, the probability is that you would have been met with a blank stare. Then birder53 posted about it, we started talking about it on eGullet and I started talking about it with my bartender friends at Pegu Club, several of whom were either members or read the eG cocktails forum. Right around the same time, Brian Miller (then at Pegu) returned from spending some time with the Zig Zag guys, and this provided an additional vector of interest in the cocktails they had featured in Seattle. Before too long, the Last Word spread among internet cocktailians from the eG Forums, and among NYC cocktailian bartenders and their clients from Pegu Club. With a year or so, everyone knew about it. Riffs such as Phil Ward's "Final Ward" made it onto the featured list at Pegu Club. Roughly three years after this thread started, the Last Word was considered by many to be an "established classic" -- so much so that cocktailians might assume most any cocktail bar worth its salt would know the drink as of 2007. It's a long way from virtually unknown to classic to basis formula for modern classic-style cocktails in three or four years.

With respect to vermouth: Dave may have more to say about this if he checks in, but Imbibe! says: "By the 1860s, anyway, [vermouth] was pretty well established in New York and had even reached places like Galveston, Texas, and Dubuque, Iowa." This suggests it would have been known most anywhere in Massachusetts, certainly by the time the Lone Tree story is said to have taken place some 40 years later. With respect to Astor, Massachusetts: Boston is a somewhat unusual city in the fact that it annexed certain towns and cities (e.g., Charlestown, Dorchester, Brighton) as it grew, but not other towns that would have been equally likely and natural to annex (e.g., Cambridge, Newton, Brookline). Either way, the old names of towns and cities annexed or not by Boston, and even of the neighborhoods associated with these towns and cities, persist today (eg., Allston, which was a neighborhood in the city of Brighton pre-annexation). I grew up in Boston and am not aware of any Astor in the Boston area. This doesn't mean one didn't exist elsewhere in the state, of course, or that it isn't a misspelling or misremembrance of something else.

Re vermouth: In Imbibe!, Dave Wondrich notes that vermouth was quite well established in NY by the 1860s, and really took off in the 1880s with the Manhattan Cocktail. The first recipe for a "Vermuth Cocktail" (consisting of nothing more than vermouth and a piece of ice with a lemon twist) appeared in an 1869 book. This all suggests that the Lone Tree story would have to be apocryphal, and further suggests that the definition of "cocktail" had already begun to expand significantly by 1870.

I've had a Ryemos a few times. Pretty good.

From this thread. I just whipped up two Golden Dawn variations side-by side. Both had Tanqueray gin, Laird's bonded applejack, Cointreau and orange juice (fresh squeezed valencia) plus a dribble of grenadine to create the "dawn." One version had Apry. One version had Barack Palinka. The Apry version was richer, spicier and sweeter. I wouldn't say it was cloying, exactly, but it definitely couldn't be any sweeter. The Barack Palinka version was dryer and more aromatic. I wouldn't say it was thin, exactly, but it definitely couldn't succeed with any less body. We ultimately decided neither version was entirely satisfactory, and thought that something in the middle was what we wanted. So why not mix the two versions together? This is what we did, and in our opinion it was the superior version.

Wouldn't the Earl of Suffolk be known as "Lord Suffolk"?

Ted Saucier's Bottoms Up has a recipe for the Golden Dawn that eliminates the Cointreau.

My FoodSaver started to get wonky after about a year. It would evacuate small bags just fine, but with larger bags the bag would hardly deflate and then the machine would seal the bag. This created much bag waste and multiple vacuum-and-seal attempts. I have also found FoodSaver machines generally not so great at vacuuming out bags with a large "tail" (which is useful when you want to open and re-seal the bag many times -- for example, I have a huge vacuum bag full of dried porcini). This is one area (among many) where I think vacuum sealers like these are a significant improvement over FoodSaver machines. The vacuum well is both deep and wide. But, more to the point, because the top of the machine is clear, you can see when liquid starts to go into the vacuum chamber and hit the "manual seal" button. This model looks quite similar to one that I've been looking at (actually have one on order) from Cabela's. Their site says it's a Cabela's model, but I seem to remember the person at my local store saying it's not. Anybody know anything about the machine? I don't personally know anything about the machine, but having watched the two videos, and having used a FoodSaver V2460 for about a year, I can't imagine any significant difference in utility or maintenance between it and the Pro 2300. The channel is wider and deeper, but you'll notice that it doesn't get very dirty, and that's the case with my FoodSaver as well, so that's a wash. Maybe if you vacuum a lot of very wet stuff, the channel would matter, but I don't think so, since both machines rely on your attention for best results. The 16-inch width of the Pro might come in handy in commercial applications. I don't know that ease of cleaning would be a major incentive for picking one of the "semipro" machines (although they are certainly easier to clean). With respect to sealing wet foods, or bags that contain liquid, the semipro machines have a major advantage. You are correct that doing it with either machine is a matter of paying attention. But the clear top of the semipro machines makes it significantly easier to see what is happening. I regularly seal bags containing liquid now, whereas with the FoodSaver I had to freeze the liquid. I still think FoodSavers are good starter machines. But after mine started losing its oomph far sooner than I believed it should have, I decided to go with a more powerful machine. It's better than anything from FoodSaver in a multitude of ways. Whether it's worth 2.3 times more than the latest from FoodSaver...? Depends on the user and the budget, I guess.

This is one area (among many) where I think vacuum sealers like these are a significant improvement over FoodSaver machines. The vacuum well is both deep and wide. But, more to the point, because the top of the machine is clear, you can see when liquid starts to go into the vacuum chamber and hit the "manual seal" button.

For sure "natural yeast in the air" makes zero difference in most NYC pizza, all of which (with the exception of Una Pizza Napoletana) are leavened with commercial yeast. It is anyway unlikely that the yeast (and lactobacilli, which are more important) which populate a continually refreshed natural leaven come "from the air." Right! Especially when you consider that 80% of NYC pizza is not particularly distinguished, and perhaps 3% of it is outstanding. I'm not sure that any one pizzeria's dough technique or formula necessarily extends to other pizzerie or to home bakers to produce similar results. That said, I have found this to be a reasonably good formula for the home baker. My pizza dough recipe for home is a 70% hydrated AP flour dough with a lot less yeast (around 0.2%) and no salt. I employ a no-knead technique, ferment overnight and then retard in the refrigerator 5 days or more.

Re raspberry and other small seeds: Just muddle the raspberries in the mixing tin, shake and then double-strain (use a Hawthorn strainer on top of the tin and also pour through a small extra-fine sieve on the way to the glass). This will hold back any seeds, etc.

It is also fairly easy at places like Whole Foods to buy superfine-grind cane sugar (usually sold as "dehydrated cane juice" or something like that).

What you are talking about is superfine sugar. You should be able to find superfine sugar in most any grocery store. Most commonly it comes in a box that looks like this. You can, however, put regular granulated sugar into a food processor and reduce the grain size if you like.

Sigh... I spelled the name of the cocktail (and the antibiotic) incorrectly, of course. The Penicillin Cocktail

I realize this is an overly broad generalization, but does anyone else notice that there seems to be a group late 20/early 30-somethings who have, for all intents and purposes, never been anywhere but the various Momofuku restaurants and yet think they know better than people who have been exploring cuisine/restaurants for decades?

The first White Castle opened in Wichita, Kansas in 1921. The White Mana building was constructed as a diner for the 1939 World's Fair in Queens, and was moved to Jersey City (or Hackensack, depending on who you believe) in 1946. It's not clear that it originally served sliders, and I think it is unlikely that it did (the sign says, "hamburgers since 1946").

As others have pointed out, these are iconoclastic highballs he's making there. A typical highball would be something like 1.5 ounces of spirit in a 9 ounce glass with ice and a fill-up of lengthener to the tune of 4 ounces or so. And I should point out that these wouldn't necessarily be crap drinks, either. This is a fairly classic ratio. In contrast, db_campbell's version would be around 3 ounces of spirit with 2 ounces of lengthener. It's no surprise that the quality and qualities of the spirit would be much more important in this kind of drink. It's also no surprise that a high proof, fairly dry (as these things go) bourbon with big flavors like Old Grand Dad would come through the strong, sweet flavors of Coca-Cola better than others. As a general rule of thumb, more intensely flavored and higher proof spirits (these often go hand-in-hand) do better in long drinks, because the flavors and alcohol are able to carry through. And it stands to reason that a dryer spirit would do better than a sweeter one when it is being combined with lengthener as sweet as Coca-Cola. This is not usually an issue with most spirits (no brand of gin is going to make one G&T appreciable sweeter than another), but bourbons can be quite sweet and often seem to potentiate sweet flavors around them. What's nice about db_campbell's results is that OGD 114 isn't terribly expensive.

Interestingly, this piece strikes me as a fairly interesting look into the ways that "scene" can inform our choices and affect our enjoyment of restaurants, and perhaps also change the way the restaurant cooks:

Interesting thought, Eric. But this only matters if there's something for the rinse or spritz to "live on," wouldn't you think? Seems to me that a glass rinsed with scotch and then filled up all the way with cocktail wouldn't be any different from the same cocktail prepared with the same amount of scotch dashed in to the mixing glass. Spritzes may be a little different, even in a full glass, because there is likely to be overspray that hits "dry" parts of the glass.

Building on this idea, I think that a rinse and a collar makes more sense for most "up" cocktails than a spritz. Citrus oils float on the surface, whereas booze floated or spritzed on top of an "up" drink will mix into the other liquid. When it is a rocks drink or an egg white drink or especially a crushed ice drink is when a float or spritz makes sense over a rinse.

In the case of Mr. Ueda, I don't believe there's anything ostensible about it. When one reads his description of the hard shake, it is fairly apparent that he believes he is crafting a better cocktail. Obviously, as is discussed here, these claims may ultimately be specious, but I don't believe his intent can be impugned on the issue. Don't be so quick to impute impugning to me. If I had meant Ueda specifically, I would have said Ueda specifically. That said, while I have no reason to question Mr. Ueda's sincerity, it has to be said that his writings amount mostly to nonscientific quasi-mystical claims that don't make much sense. To wit:

I agree that sushi knowledge in America lags far behind American understanding of other kinds of cuisine. However, don't think the same can be said for Italian food. I'm not saying that I think our understanding of Italian food is so great, mind you, but I don't think one could say that the general American restaurant-going public's understanding of Italian food is any worse than its understanding of French or Spanish or Greek or Chinese (etc.) food. Among the rarified few who patronize high-end neo-French restaurants, there is a better understanding of high-end neo-French cuisine, sure. But I wouldn't say that Americans understand the aesthetic of Provençal cooking any better than they do the aesthetic of Tuscan cooking. NB. On a higher level of understanding, of course, the usually useful characterization of Italian food as "choosing a few outstanding local ingredients, treating them simply and letting them speak for themselves" fails, because there are plenty of dishes and cuisines (Venetian cooking, for example, can involve lots of ingredients, herbs, spices, anc complicated techniques -- many of which are not local) in Italy that do not fit this mold.

All that is well and good, but the restaurants you went to may have had a slightly different demand. That's quite possibly true. (really, I'm sure it is) Still, I just have it stuck in my head that a bar's primary purpose is for drinking. Anyway, it's an interesting policy. Is it unique to Batali joints? Something common in NYC? In many NYC restaurants that have a bar, the bar isn't really for drinking. Rather, it's a way to squeeze in more seating while still providing room for the beverage staff to pour glasses of wine and mix the occasional drink. That said, I strongly disagree with the practice of kicking someone out of a bar stool they already occupy if they're having a glass of wine. I would strongly resist such an attempt unless the restaurant made a truly oustanding effort to "make it right" with me. I wouldn't mind shifting seats, of course, or even being asked nicely if I wouldn't mind standing, provided that meant I still had a spot at the bar. But, depending on how it was handled by the restaurant (one hopes that places like Lupa have become adept at asking drinkers to move for eaters), I also wouldn't be above thanking them for the free wine I was now not going to pay for, and leaving.

I would suggest that the Americanization of sushi culture that was happening (and largely spearheaded by Blue Ribbon) around that time is precisely why it offered the opportunity for deeper analysis and contextualization. And Reichl could be good at that sort of thing, no doubt. Today, of course, when one can buy fresh tuna maki in suburban Kansas supermarkets, it's less of an opportunity. I'm curious... what do we think is happening in NYC restaurant culture today that is crying out for this kind of treatment? One that I can think of is that seems to have grown recently is the radically increased importance of designer-outfitted waitstaff and high-design rooms that are sweeping and grand in a "hip" kind of way. This is, needless to say, is something that Bruni reflects in his review, although I think some of these places that are operating more on room than food offer the opportunity to explore this phenomenon more deeply in a review that has, thus far, not happened. There's the whole so-called (largely by a few of us) "new paradigm" phenomenon. What else? Here, I absolutely disagree. She starts off with the meme that "Italian cooking starts with great raw materials and allows them to speak for themselves," makes a ridiculous strawman comparison to American chefs ruining this aesthetic by making "spaghetti with bananas," and then completely fails to contextualize and frame her review of Da Silvano by referring back to this setup -- and there were plenty of opportunities for her to note how Da Silvano's dishes reflected this aesthetic in contrast to examples of overwrought iterations from other restaurants with less italianità. Instead, it seems like she's trying to inflate her own cred by making darn sure the readers know she's been to Italy. The Blue Ribbon Sushi review, in contrast, is entirely framed by her opening concept that, "as Americans adopted sushi, we adapted it as well, discarding those parts of the traditional rituals that made us uncomfortable." The Blue Ribbon Sushi review is many times more successful than the Da Silvano one.

Temperature is easy to evaluate. As is dilution. And froth on the top of the drink. And amount of ice shards (simply double strain). Integration/balance and mouthfeel are subjective criteria and therefore less easy to compare, of course. I've been meaning to do a temperature comparison as soon as a high-accuracy Thermopen rises to the top of my priority list. The one time I compared temperatures side by side, it was with a relative newcomer to the Hard Shake technique and we used the same amount of ice. Mine was a little colder, as I recall. Some day, I'd like to compare, say, Eben doing the Hard Shake with his shaker and the amount of ice he likes to use versus, say, Phil with a metal-on-metal shaker and the amount of ice he likes to use.