Good Lord I had a fright this weekend. I was dining at a restaurant in a small Texas town and was presented with a bouquet of portion cups full of two substances that are foreign to me in my adult life: Country Crock and Koffee Buddy.

When I was a child my mother was not much of an adventurous cook. A product of the Campbell's Soup Housewife Indoctrination of her era, she cooked a small but reliable arsenal of comfort foods: tuna casserole (with the Ruffles topping, of course), beef stroganoff, enchiladas and tacos (with about as much heat as a candy cane), spaghetti, and a mystery meal that as far as I know is unique to my family, a "hash" made of browned ground beef, diced potatoes, and ketchup cooked at a delicate simmer. One time Dr. Stallworth, our veterinarian, asked my mother, "Are you an adventurous cook, or one of those meat-and-potatoes gals?" Mother indicated that she was a little of both, although even as a child I thought "She's a meat-and-potatoes gal...". Dr. Stallworth gave my mom an opened bottle of Balsamic Vinegar. Growing up in Austin, TX in the 1980's, when Whole Foods was just a little hippie grocery on the edge of downtown, I had never seen these mysterious wrapped bottles before. I don't remember what my mom ever did with the contents, but the bottle sat in my room for years on a shelf of kid's treasures.

Back to my frightful experience at the cafe. The basket of margarine and cream arrives at the table and I politely push it aside, having sworn as an adult that butter would be my butter of choice, in place of the little tubs of Parkay that we had when I was a kid. Besides, I hadn't ordered any coffee because I was drinking beer, not that the two are mutually exclusive. I then noticed something amiss about the other product in the basket, something that I at first mistook for half & half. I was intrigued by the room temperature "cream." It turns out the product is Koffee Buddy, which I assure you is no friend of mine. I would rather exfoliate with sandpaper than hang out with buddies like Koffee Buddy.

I have encountered these fake cream products before--when I was a kid my mother would use Coffee Mate in her coffee. Thankfully she has since seen the light (especially since I work in the coffee business). But Coffee Mate knows it is a fraud. Coffee Mate decorates itself in bright colors to compensate for the fact that it is a non-dairy faker. But Koffee Buddy...Koffee Buddy is a scheister. Koffee Buddy dresses up in the same portion cup that real half & half comes in, at places that care about, you know, flavor. Koffee Buddy does not boldly identify itself as a bullshitter--you have to look closely. I think that's part of Koffee Buddy's nefarious plan, hoping that most people are too weary for not having had coffee yet that they don't even look at the label. By the time they realize "Hey, that cream was awfully light-bodied..." they are already on the road, and Koffee Buddy's evil machinations have triumphed, and the short-cutter of a restaurant operator who purchases such products gives Koffee Buddy a high-five as he stuffs his pockets with ill-gotten lucre. Come to think of it, I wonder if this place actually served Coffee or just Koffee, some kind of brown water coffee substitute made from roasted corn syrup solids. Did you notice that Koffee Buddy has "color added"? It's WHITE. Something has to be really gross if they have to add fake color just to get it to white.

Continue reading "Koffee Buddy is No Kind of Friend" »

On Saturday afternoons after we finish breaking down the farmer's market, we head back to my house to refresh ourselves with After-market Cocktails. This has been a tradition for several years now and friends and family randomly show up, knowing that we will be celebrating the fruits of the earth in a particularly festive fashion. Depending on the season, we try use as many market ingredients as possible in our After-market Cocktails. This is obviously easier in some seasons than in others, and this season is a good one. On a recent Saturday we returned from the market with an abundance of goods the likes of which I have not seen in a while: squash, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, potatoes, peppers, garlic, watermelon, cantaloupe, and of course peaches. I set to work in the kitchen mixing up a refreshing beverage to rejuvenate myself and the crew.

No, that isn't Gatorade, it's my sh!tty photography...

Large bunch of mint leaves
4 oz Tito's
2 oz Zubrowka
1 oz Creole Shrub
1 oz Fee Bros. Peach Bitters
4 oz agave nectar
2 oz lime juice
16 oz cucumber juice

In a glass pitcher, muddle mint and agave nectar. Add remaining ingredients and stir.
Fill each glass with ice and fill 3/4 full with cocktail. Top with splash of sparkling wine. Garnish with cucumber wheel and sprig of mint. Recipe makes about four cocktails, or a quart-size jug to take to your next summer soiree.

I apologize for the vodka usage but we are trying to work our way through some of the Tito's we ended up with. I generally try to avoid using vodka but at least Tito's is a locally produced spirit and it works well with the summer market flavors, since it doesn't have a strong flavor of its own.

After we finished this pitcher of drink we mixed up a second and bottled it for our dinner destination: Hootenanny in the Holler, the long awaited fish fry hosted by some chef friends of ours outside of town. This drink is equally suited for both hot afternoons and summer night fish fries!

The astute observer will notice that this post is somewhat overdue, because the loquats have been done for over a month. However, I just found the little cord that connects the camera to the computer--it has been lost since loquat season.

Loquats, for the record, are not related to kumquats.

This year Austin had a bumper crop of loquats, due to the fact that we had a very mild winter with no hard freezes. Loquats thrive in Austin and are cold hardy enough to sustain our typical winters; however if temperatures drop below the mid 20's, the flowers will freeze and there will be no fruit. (The tree is fine, but only in its ornamental function) What goes hand-in-hand with a bumper loquat crop is a bumper mosquito crop the following summer, but I will not go into that for fear of lapsing into a deep depression. (I fight the nasty bastards as I work in my Drinkable Estate each morning, )

I harvested about ten pounds of loquats from the trees in my yard. I went to Austin Homebrew because my intention was to make loquat wine out of my harvest. However, the week got away from me and I realized that my harvest was starting to spoil. Not wanting to risk wasting the the fruit on the wine project for fear that if the fruit was tainted at all, I wouldn't find out about the spoiling until months later, I decided to feature the loquats in a giant loquat-theme feast. (The wine making equipment is only taking a short rest while I get ready to make Peach wine in the next few weeks)

A feast, especially a Tipsy Texan feast, must of course start with cocktails. First off we made a Loquat Mojito. Anyone who saw our article in the recent Edible Austin might begin to think that I am a one-trick pony with my frequent mojito mixing. This is only partly true. I do often make a seasonal mojito, but when we make it it is a damn sexy drink. The mojito gets a bad rap because it is most often made poorly, sometimes even from the wrong ingredients. Jeffrey Morgenthaler has a long and detailed discussion on this subject at his blog. This discussion includes a lot of talk about why most mojitos suck when you order them in public, which I never do. The recipe he provides is for a classic mojito, which is obviously not what I am making here. As with many other classic cocktails, if you first understand the classic form, you gain the knowledge necessary to experiment following your own inclinations. Morgenthaler insists that only white rums be used; in a classical preparation I concur. But I also have experimented with various other rums that have been aged, and found that they add a nice complexity to the drink. I do, however, only use the aged rum something like a "modifying spirit", to compliment the white rums. You can also experiment with various sugars, and even various mints. Morgenthaler also says that the drink should not be made in a pitcher and only in the glass, when making only a few drinks I agree. But I make them in a pitcher when I have a lot of drinks to make, then pour them into the glasses. I personally don't like the minty bits when there is another fruit present so I strain the drink; I am quite aware that this defies convention.

In this picture of Stephanie grilling the meat, the lamb chops on the top shelf look frighteningly like grilled dachshund.

For dinner we marinated several pounds of lamb chops in a glaze consisting of muddled loquats, jalapenos, vinegar, honey, salt and pepper. I brushed this on the meat as we grilled it to a nice rare-medium rare. For the sides we roasted fennel, turnips, leeks, and potatoes, all from the farmers market. We also served a field greens salad drizzled with loquat-cilantro vinaigrette.

For dessert I did Loquats Foster. I prepared it following the traditional Brennan's method, the only real difference being that I sauteed/flambeed loquats and bananas in equal parts. Spooned over Blue Bell Mexican Vanilla ice cream. We served a Loquat Cocktail with dessert. The recipe that I wrote down reads, "loquat juice, lemon juice, Pimms, Treaty Oak rum, simple." It was awesome, but unfortunately in my tipsy haze I forgot to write down the proportions. I guess we'll have to wait til next year to figure it out...

A couple of weeks ago the Austin Chronicle came out with its annual Restaurant Poll (For anyone reading this who does not live in Austin, the Chronicle is our free liberal weekly, like the Press in Houston, the Voice in NY, the Scene in Nashvile...and numerous other rags in a city near you).

The poll is divided into two categories, the Readers Poll and the Critics Poll. Needless to say I take the Readers Poll with a grain of skepticism. An example is the "Best Coffee" category. For years the winner has been Starbucks. In a town with good local coffee roasters and locally owned coffee shops, Starbucks takes the prize. This is an absurd enough reality that it makes the Poll in many ways a laughingstock. This year, Starbucks lost its first prize slot to another unworthy winner, Austin Java. Although I admire Austin Java's success as a restaurant company, I do not consider them a serious contender for award-winning coffee. Up until the last few years, they did not even roast their own coffee but had it roasted for them. I am glad that the Chronicle readers are now wise enough to finally realize that a local company should receive this prize instead of it going to Big Green. However, anybody who knows anything about coffee in Austin knows that the enthusiast destinations are JP's Java and Cafe Medici, and that they are many lengths ahead of any other competition.

My amateur analysis suggests that most people who answer the Readers Poll fill in every blank (perhaps the only instance when I think the democratic principle of the cherished right to vote might be misapplied...) regardless of what they know about the category. I, for one, do not know where to get the best dish of Pho in Austin, so I don't fill in that line. But I can only imagine that many readers see a category such as "coffee" and put the first thing that comes to mind: Starbucks, or in the case of this year, Austin Java. The other obvious problem with the Poll is shilling and ballot-stuffing. A popular restaurant with command of its database can greatly skew the results. An example this year is Plucker's Wing Bar, which won in the category of "Best Chicken Dish." It is obnoxious that a wing joint would take the prize in this category. Pluckers, however, has a fan base that is devoted and motivated, and easily mobilized by the regular emails sent to Plucker's Club members--I know because I am one of those members (who did not, incidentally, give them my vote for Best Chicken Dish). It is unfortunate that such shenanigans can cause a more deserving winner to be dethroned, but at the same time it is refreshing that this type of prank can still be pulled off in Austin. Perhaps we are not yet Dallas after all. (Also, there is no category for best wings)

As much as this delegitimizes the Poll, every year when the Poll comes out Austinites, myself included, snatch it up to check out the year's winners. There were a few categories this year that had to do with cocktails or beverages, and I was generally pleased with the results in those categories.

Critics Poll responses:
Best Creative Cocktails--Ben Craven at Starlite
Incredibly Creative Martinis--Imperia
Best Paradise for Single Malt Lovers--Opal Divine's (Agreed)
Best Michelada--who cares
Readers Poll responses:
Best Mixologist --Bill Norris at FINO
Beer Selection--The Ginger Man (Agreed)

Last night I finally had the opportunity to sample, in one evening, the top categories. Tipsy and I headed to FINO to meet Mindy Kucan, another award-winning local mixologist, and Rob from 42 Below vodka. Bill Norris, as it happens, was not there. Clinton was there instead, and he mixed up a few faithful interpretations of Bill's drinks. What I like about Bill's menu is that he has a mix of his own creations as well as select classic cocktails. I feel like the craft mixologist has the responsibility not just to create innovative new preparations, but also to participate in the education of the public with regards to classical mixology. Bill is studied in the classical cocktail cannon, but is also making his own bitters, syrups, and infusions.

After FINO we went to Starlite, where the chief mixologist was also not present. Standing in for him was Zach, who shook up a handful of Ben Craven's creations for us. Ben has been taking advantage of the willingness of Starlite chef Josh Hines to produce house-made syrups and other concoctions for use behind the bar. Starlite has an outstanding selection of spirits, certainly one of the best in town. Trying to decide between Ben, who won the critics poll for creative cocktails, and Bill, who won the readers poll for Best Mixologist, is like splitting hairs. They are both talented and among the only barkeeps in Austin whom I entrust with making me a drink I know I will like.

From Starlite we proceeded to Imperia. I have to say that we went there with great hesitation. In fact, I was certain that my review of this establishment was going to be hateful, as if we went there just for ironic effect. However, I was completely proven wrong. (I should confess that the reasons I thought I was going to hate Imperia were completely unreasonable: I was mad that Capitol Brasserie was no longer there; I once attempted to get drinks there but bumped in to a douchebag restaurant owner that I know who told me it was his favorite hangout, which led me to believe that it was too douchey for me to stay at; and because a quick glance at the drinks menu revealed a bunch of vodka-based drinks.)

It was therefore with great amusement that I read in the Chronicle poll that Imperia was getting an award for "Incredibly Creative Martinis." For one thing, "creative" and "martini" are words that I never want to hear in the same sentence. I want a traditional martini, a classic martini, not a creative one. Is it too much to ask that the Chronicle refer to them as Cocktails, not Martinis? Is it too much to ask that the culinary guardians that officiate the critics poll not succumb to the temptation to categorize everything that comes in a conical glass as a "martini."
The Critics Poll is, after all, then Senate to the Readers Poll's House--the upper hand, the staid authority against the rambunctious populace.

Well, after we sat down at Imperia, my initial trepidation was assuaged. The hospitality from the manager CK and the bartender Tandy was great, especially for a slow Monday night, when service often suffers. We tasted our way through the entire cocktail menu (I will not call it a Martini menu) and there were quite a few nice surprises. Even the menu was, true to my memory, a bit vodka-centric for my taste, they were far from insipid. The Critics may have been too liberal in their use of the label "martini", but they were correct to give praise to this establishment.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Edible Austin magazine, it is a fabulous publication that is focused entirely on locally produced food and beverage products. They are officially in their second year in print with last week's release of the summer issue. Somehow Tipsy and I managed to convince the publisher of the magazine that Edible Austin needed a Drinkable Austin feature, and that we were just the kind of tipsy Texans for the job. It is possible that there were a few cocktails being consumed during this conversation, but I don't exactly remember. Regardless, some time last fall she agreed and our first Tipsy Texan column appeared in the Spring issue. I started a post about that issue a little while before the issue came out, but decided it was unwise to scoop my own work. Then I forgot about it entirely. This time around, I am only a week or so late.

Since the focus of the magazine is on local food and beverage products (and to a larger extent, on sustainable living in general), we had to point our muddlers in the direction of the summer garden. In Texas, that means melons:

First up we did a Watermelon Mojito, which we were fortunate enough to have featured on the cover. (Thank you, Edible!) I am well aware that the Mojito is a tired feature of many an unimaginative cocktail menu, at home by now at the corporate-owned family restaurant of your choice. However, I think that the drink is almost never made well, at least not here in Austin, which is a damn shame given the frequency with which it is made in this hot hot town (I mean hot as in temperature, not as in "like, so cool"). We chose the Mojito because when made properly it is a delicious refresher in a city that despite the months of high-90's and 100+ degree days people still insist on dining outside whenever it is an option, which it is at many places for almost the whole year. Another thing going for the Mojito is that all or most of the ingredients can come from local sources, now that Treaty Oak rum is on the market. It is also a summery twist on a drink that is well-known enough that Austinites might at least like to try it, as opposed to, say, the esoteric Stonewall Sour that we also made for this issue, which I will describe in a moment, and which I suspect nobody will venture to make... . The Watermelon Mojito satisfies our need to make a drink that is democratic enough that the thirsty Edible reader can make it at home by just following a few steps; the Stonewall Sour is complex enough to appeal to the more accomplished tippler, and, I hope, our would-be peers in the craft mixology community.

My recipe makes a pitcher drink, because I do not like minty bits getting in the finished product, especially with this variation that is already overloaded with watermelon pulp. When I get a watermelon from the farmer's market I trim it in its entirety when I get home so that it is all in bite-size pieces ready for the fridge. In the process, I try to trim away the veins of seeds. Eating watermelon by the slice and spitting out the seeds may be the picture of summer recreation, but I prefer to snack on (or muddle) seedless chunks, chilled to a frosty 38 degrees.

Watermelon Mojito (By the pitcher)
Making the base drink and adding the club soda later assures that all refills are properly fizzy. To make the base drink, muddle a handful of mint leaves with 1/4 cup light brown sugar and ¼ cup lime juice in the bottom of a glass pitcher. Add 1 cup light rum (like Treaty Oak) and ½ cup aged rum (such as Mt. Gay). Adjust flavor to your liking. In the bottom of a tall glass, muddle 3 - 4 chunks of ripe watermelon. Add ice, and fill glass 2/3 full with mojito base. Top with club soda and garnish with a slice of watermelon and sprig of mint.

For something a little more complex (and time consuming), try the Stonewall Sour. It incorporates several delicious summer flavors from the garden: juicy peach (in the form of a peach gastrique-like syrup), ripe cantaloupe, and basil. Ever since Camper English declared on Alcademics that in 2008 vinegar would be the new egg white, I have wanted to incorporate it into a cocktail, and I like the way this came out.

Stonewall Sour
Start by making this
Sour Peach Gastrique
¼ cup champagne (or other white) vinegar
½ cup peach nectar
1 tablespoon local honey
2 tablespoons raw sugar
In a small saucepan, reduce vinegar to 1 ½ tablespoons. Add peach nectar and reduce to ¼ cup. Stir in honey and raw sugar, allow to cool. The result will be a sour syrup that you can experiment with in your favorite summer cocktails or other culinary creations.

For the drink:
1 ½ Pisco
½ fresh lime juice
½ simple syrup
2-3 chunks ripe cantaloupe
3 dashes Angostura bitters
Sprig basil
1 oz sour peach gastrique

In a mixing glass, muddle cantaloupe, basil, lime juice and simple syrup. Add pisco, bitters, and sour peach gastrique. Shake vigorously and strain into chilled cocktail glass.

To complete the lineup I called on Mindy Kucan, who is a bartender at the Hilton Hotel in downtown Austin. She has won and placed in numerous cocktail contests, and won the title “Hilton Hotel’s Best Bar Chef” with this drink. A variation of her recipe is featured in the DVD "Travel. Taste. Toast." which stars Tony Abou-Ganim mixing the drinks for the Hilton Hotels International cocktail menu. Because Mindy's recipe involved a local product that is not available outside of Texas, the recipe was altered. This did not get in the way of Mindy's getting to travel to New Orleans last summer to receive her award and some face time with Tony...

Hot Summer Night
Created by Mindy Kucan

1 ¼ oz local vodka (Tito's, Savvy, or Dripping Springs)
½ oz Paula’s Texas Lemon liqueur
½ oz lemon juice
2 oz Sprite
4 sprigs thyme

De-stem 3 sprigs thyme and muddle in mixing glass with honey and lemon juice. Add ice, vodka and PTL. Stir lightly and strain into a rocks glass over ice. Top with Sprite. Garnish with remaining sprig of thyme.

Continue reading "Edible Summer" »

I have just finished reading Fritz Haeg's book Edible Estates: Attack on the Front Lawn.
Since you are not here to read a report on landscape design, I will spare you the details and give you the sparsest summary. Basically, the front yard as we know it sucks, and we have all of us been conned into growing the most resource-intensive (yet inedible) crop grown in this country, turf grass. Haeg and his crew have created "edible estates" in yards around the United States and in England, by ripping up the turf and replacing it entirely with herbs, ornamental plants, fruit-bearing trees, and vegetable gardens. This philosophy takes the localvore movement to the extreme, since it doesn't get any greener than your front yard.

I read Haeg's book in one sitting, which is remarkable since I am a tediously slow reader, and since the last book I read in its entirety (regardless of number of sittings) was Harry Potter--Goblet of Fire. There are at any given time a number of unfinished books on my night stand, which sit there unfinished as I have been distracted by some other material, and which sit there for an unspecified amount of time before they migrate back to the bookshelf. On this particular evening, I stood at 3:30 in the morning in my front yard, imagining the paths, the beds, the decorative features. I imagined not just setting the table in my garden, but tending the bar in my garden.

Can you imagine? Imagine a garden rich enough that the cocktailian could walk into it at any time regardless of season and fill his shaker with the abundance of nature. Imagine, if you will, creating a garden the produce of which is not destined for the table, but for the cocktail glass...

Here are some of the things that I can grow in my region (asterisk denotes ingredients already in production):
Watermelons, Honeydews, Cantaloupes.
Figs*
Stone fruits like peaches and plums*
Apples and pears
Persimmons, pomegranates
Blueberries*, Strawberries, Blackberries--also mulberries
Grapes
Mint*, Basil*, Oregano*, Rosemary*, Mexican Mint Marigold* (tastes like Tarragon), etc
Meyer lemons*, satsumas, Mexican limes, loquats*; possibly grapefruit, navels
All sorts of things to pickle for garnishes: okra, green beans, asparagus, garlic, onions, and even olives.
Cucumbers*, tomatoes*
I haven't done anything with sweet corn* but I think something's possible

I understand that many cocktail enthusiasts outside of the Sun Belt will not be able to grow many of these things; nor will the apartment mixologist. Our counterparts in California, on the other hand, could grow so much more than we can in brutally hot Texas. Today we invested in two meyer lemon trees. The Drinkable Estate is under way. I will post updates of our successes and failures as things progress.

First of all, have you ever heard a conversation like this one:
“Hey let’s go have martinis!”
“Yeah what kind of martini do you want?”
“I don’t know, maybe a Cosmo!”
I haven’t either, but I am sure it has happened.

On Friday night the Alamo Drafthouse downtown is debuting the new Sex and the City movie. (I will be at the Kerrville Folk Festival, drinking cheap beer with hippies, and will therefore miss the festivities.) I can say that I have never seen a complete episode of this show. I did see part of an episode one time that featured an older woman who bagged a hot younger guy, perhaps a cater waiter?, and there were a number of steamy shots of the beefy paramour.

Though I am for the most part oblivious to the show, there is no avoiding the result of Sex and the City on contemporary mixology, and that is the goddamned Cosmopolitan. Invented some time in the eighties, popularized by Dale DeGroff et al in the nineties, the drink was broadcast to the American public by this show. Though DeGroff has been credited, inaccurately, with creating the drink, he clarifies in his 2002 book The Craft of the Cocktail that he did not create the drink, rather he developed the formula that is most widely used: Citrus vodka, Cointreau, lime juice, cranberry. He first put the drink on his menu at the Rainbow Room in 1996. Two years later Sex and the City would hit the airwaves, and the Cosmopolitan would forever be associated with the show. I thought that I should mark the occasion of the movie's release by posting a few comments on the Cosmopolitan, since it is not likely to ever be discussed here again.

First of all, I am an unlikely apologist for the Cosmopolitan. I don't drink vodka, I don't take my cocktail cues from television, and I generally don't like to get involved in things that involve kinship with a bunch of strangers (For example, I was initially hesitant to support Barack Obama, for no other reason than because he was too popular; I thought perhaps Barack was the Cosmo of presidential candidates, but have since changed course). The Cosmopolitan is one of the few cocktails that can be called a "modern classic"(the Mojito is another), and of those it is by far the most famous. It is also by far the most tired (Pomegranate Cosmo, anyone?) Despite the oversexposure of the Cosmopolitan, it is not without its charms. First of all, it has a fabulous name—what a shame that it is almost always abbreviated to “Cosmo.” It is a simple drink to make that is pleasing to a wide audience. Tipsy and I were tending bar at his parents’ 40th wedding anniversary a few months ago and true to form we set up an elaborate bar, and developed an elaborate and ultimately unappreciated cocktail list. There was a group of ladies who were thoroughly unimpressed with our Sidecars, our Pisco Sours and any number of other classics and original creations that we were trying to impress them with. But when we made them a round of Cosmopolitans, they thought it was the best drink they ever had. Go figure.

The Cosmopolitan, though certainly not complex in flavor, is drinkable when made properly. It also serves the purpose of exposing consumers to cocktail mixology. Regardless of how simplistic the drink is, it is better that someone order a Cosmo than a Bud Light or, godforbid, a wine cooler. If one looks at the Cosmopolitan as a stepping stone, and the drinker as a potential cocktail convert, then the drink is well positioned to promote the cause.

Another reason why I am tempted to defend the Cosmopolitan from its detractors is because I think that a lot of the vitriol invoked by mention of the Cosmo, in certain circles, is rooted in sexism and homophobia. Consider this comment mined from drinksmixer.com:
Of the Cosmopolitan, scottishbastard writes, "Only bitches and fags drink this. I'll stick with single malt Scotch."
Perhaps scottishbastard was jesting. Regardless, his opinion that the Cosmopolitan is a woman's drink is a pervasive one, ridiculous as it may be. It is no less fruity than the countless sugary concoctions that frat boys and tipsy texans pound in shot bars every weekend. But when you put it in a conical glass and place it in the hands of empowered women, it becomes a "bitch's drink." A hateful assessment.

Continue reading "Sex and the Goddamn Cosmopolitan" »

For perhaps the most tasteless of all tipsy fieldtrips, Tipsy and I decided to head down south-WAAAY south-- for Spring Break. It really wasn't spring break, per se, since we are neither of us students and both of us about a decade too old to celebrate in such a fashion. We knew someone who was on South Padre Island working for the week, and he invited us to stay with him for a few days.

The weather was not cooperative for most of our brief stay, and looked something like this:

The kitchen and bar of this condo were unimaginably unstocked. We brought things like squeezers and muddlers and strainers, but it didn't occur to us that the condo would be lacking in basics like...glasses. Not to be deterred, I found this measuring beaker to make for a perfect highball-in-a-pinch. (Please note that the dolphin statuette was an amenity of the condo, and not a souvenir I purchased.)

I had never really given drag much consideration until I saw how incredibly foxy and Baywatchy I look as a female.

You will be glad to know that your taxpayer dollars were well represented at many points accross the Spring Break celebration area, which is the Radisson "host hotel." Unfortunately the Radisson property owner is some kind of party pooper and would not allow the Trojan condom company to sponsor a booth. However, she doesn't have a problem with exploitation of our youth by the military industrial complex, and so as a result the US Army seemingly took the beach at SPI for this one week. Army paraphernalia was everywere, but in the spirit of outsourcing(and probably because anyone who can hold a weapon is already deployed), many of the employees working the Army booths were not soldiers themselves, but subcontractors. Essentially, the military equivalent of Red Bull Girls--handing out koozies and t-shirts and flashlights, with a few uniformed recruiters nearby in case the swag convinced someone to actually sign up. (For the record I have utmost respect for the men and women of the armed services. I do not however respect the decision makers who recklessly put these people in harm's way; nor do I care for the way they use rock-concert marketing tactics to convince the young to make "the ultimate sacrifice.")
Back to the beach:
If you are a hot chick, or better yet, TWO hot chicks, the poonhound mechanical bull operator will give you a long gentle ride, dipping the bull strategically as it turns to face him. (One rider experienced a "wardrobe malfunction" and was allowed to continue riding for what seemed to me like an impossibly long time. Meanwhile the bull operator, who was wearing both hat and sunglasses to obfuscate the direction of his gaze, pulled his shades down a tad for clearer viewing)

If, however, you are a beefy dude, you will get a spin or two before being expeditiously bucked off the bull.

I think the Coors Girls are a perfect example of why people come to SPI. Every few hours they announce the Coors Girls like they are the headlining act, then the girls come out and throw out a bunch of cheap Chinese crap emblazoned with the Coors logo.

The Beefy and the Beast: Nobody could quite figure out the hirsute fellow on the right. In his trucker cap, mustache, aviator shades and shiny black Speedo, he was quite a sight among all of the scantily clad students.

Bear Sighting on SPI! Big Poppa looked like he would fit in at a Bear round-up, but he was quite popular with the ladies, if only for the same reason that Leslie is popular with frat boys. The girls would freak Big Poppa while their friends took pictures for Facebook, then they would make an "Ew" face and run off.

Continue reading "SPI Spring Break: A Tipsy Photo Safari" »

The Craft of the Cocktail: Everything You Need to know to be a Master Bartender, with 500 Recipes
(2002)

There are countless tomes of varying quality on the subject of the mixological arts, but few approach the level of authority of this volume. The Craft of the Cocktail is not just a recipe book, though as the name implies it contains a hefty number of them--definitive versions of the classics, as well modern classics and a few of Dale's own creations. Published in 2002, Dale’s book reflects his decades of experience behind the bar and his thirst (bad pun) for cocktail history. The recipes are interwoven with historical background and personal annecdotes (I should point out, as Dale does, that much of the so-called history of cocktails, at least the very early history, is suspicious at best and possibly mythological at worst. There are a lot of "most likely scenarios" but not a lot of cold hard facts. We are, after all, dealing with a subject that does not lend itself to sober record-keeping.)

The liner notes proclaim that Dale’s book is “Destined to become the bible of the bar.” I would say that this is true, except for the fact that there are so many people with bad taste out there. I mean, Dale’s book should become the bible of the bar, and I wish that it would become the bible of the bar. I don’t think it ever will though, because people are already so tragically familiar with Old Mr. Blah-ston that I would be surprised if he could be kicked off of his tired red, black and gold throne, no matter how much he deserves it.

The book consists of three parts. The first is a history of the cocktail, which includes my favorite part of that history, the RETURN to the classic cocktail, the period which we are thankfully in at this moment. The bulk of the first part of the book lays out the techniques, supplies, and ingredients involved in the classic cocktalian craft. We bought our copy of this book at a used book store, and the previous owner took it so seriously (though apparently not enough to not sell it) that he or she highlighted the pages as if it were a textbook! (Which for us it is, in a way). The middle part of the book is the recipes, which are arranged alphabetically, with some drinks being located under their broader category (ie Fizzes, Martinis). The recipe section includes all of the major classic cocktails, as well as a number of the specialty drinks DeGroff has created over the years in his roll as cocktail consultant for bars and spirits producers. The recipes are interwoven with tidbits of cocktail lore, both historical and personal, which serve to differentiate this book from those that function primarily as recipe aggregators. The last part of the book contains resources, measurements, and other information useful to the practicing bartender or the enthusiastic student.

Although we have many dozens of books on this subject, I can fairly say that this is one of those "If you had to pick just one book..." books. In other words, the best. There are other books that explore different elements of mixology in different or more elaborate ways, but this one is the MVP. (Some books, such as The Art of the Bar, are works of art in themselves) DeGroff's manual serves up history without being bogged down by it; it has a substantial number of recipes without being unmanageable; DeGroff writes with an air of authority but not with one of pretension; and the book features an in-depth section on technique and terminology for beginners, while still being functional to more advanced users. I have purchased most of the major books on mixology, anything I have been reasonably able to get my hands on, with a range published over 100 years, and this Half Price Books treasure is my favorite of them all. Though we had bought a number of cocktail books prior to finding this one, it was the discovery of this book a couple of years ago that set us irretrievably down the path of cocktail obsession.

...Maison St. Germain, that is. It seems like Texas is finally getting something hot that is not the weather. Okay, I admit that "hot" is perhaps an exaggeration, since the non-Texas media outlets blew their load over St. Germain last year, but this is a major thrill for us Third Coast cocktail junkies.

St. Germain, a French-made elderflower liqueur, was released (I believe) in early 2007 in a number of markets, and was all the rage at Tales of the Cocktail and in news outlets from the NY Times to Out. Tipsy and I first got a taste of it at Tales, and he was so kind as to import several bottles for my birthday last fall. Other than that, it was a discovery that we couldn't share. I couldn't write a story about it, because it was not for sale in Texas. I couldn't tell friends about it, because they would want to come drink up my stash (some did anyway). Until now...

On Saturday evening Tipsy and I were tending bar at a party, and I sent him to the store to pick up an extra bottle of Paula's Texas Orange since we prematurely blew through the bottle we had brought (at this point astute observers will notice this bizarre combination of events: running out of a bottle of liquor while it was still early enough to buy more, that is by 9pm CST. Let me explain that we were pouring drinks for a mature audience--my mother was in fact a guest; our own festivities generally start well after the liquor store has closed). So he comes back with the PTO and a fantasy in a bottle, by which I mean a bottle of St. Germain. At first I thought he had violated our precious stash from the house, but before I could make any indelicate exclamations, he shouts, "It's Here!!" It was a moment that nobody in the room could understand or appreciate, but it was incredible nonetheless. We proceeded to pour a bottle's worth of St. Germain Cocktails, which are the simple signature drink of the spirit:

St. Germain Cocktail (from the promotional materials):
2 oz Dry White Wine* or Champagne**
2 oz St-Germain
2 oz Soda Water
Method: Stir ingredients in a tall ice-filled Collins glass, mixing completely. Think of Paris circa 1947. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Variation: Think of Sartre circa 1947. Be the lemon twist
* Preferably Sauvignon Blanc
**Sparkling Wine or Prosecco

At Tales we attended a seminar given by Robert Cooper, who is the developer and owner of the product. Cooper's presentation was excellent, if a bit over-the-top at times. There is, for one, the story of how the product is created, which involves old French dudes (maybe Swiss), or bohemiens, peddling bicycles in the mountains during the few brief Spring days when the flowers are in full bloom. A number of people have commented on the dubious likelihood of this foundational story/myth, but that is not my point here. Rather, I think it is remarkable that Cooper and crew have put so much effort into developing not just the product, but also the materials that accompany it. The souvenir of the seminar was not, unfortunately, 750ml of St-Germain, but instead we walked away with perhaps the sexiest press kit ever, including card-stock reprints of articles about the product, a luxuriously produced book about production and mixing suggestions, and a St-Germain DVD. It is all very exciting for a low budget cocktalian such as myself. I have never seen a product come out as an "instant classic." His promotional materials are geared toward having this product hit the market as if it had been a staple of the bar since time immemorial. This is in stark contrast to a number of other liquor promotions I have experienced, for example: A Johnnie Walker promotion for their "Latin-American Initiative," when they decided they didn't want to miss out on all that money from Hispanic community in Houston, so they rented a nice villa, hired mariachis, had door men dressed like Johnnie Walker, giant ice scuptures in the same shape, flambe carts making JW bananas "foster", all very classy and yet nonetheless tacky--what my friend Daniel calls "High Tack." A better example is an event I attended for Bacardi Ciclon, also in Houston, for which they rented a cheesy night club, decorated it like a M.A.S.H.-theme frat party, and had hot "nurses" walking around in bikinis administering shots of Ciclon (Bacardi's "tequila-infused" rum, whatever that means); there was also a nurse's station where you could get an airbrushed tattoo of the Bacardi bat. All of this is a roundabout way of saying that St-Germain is one of those rare new liquor products that has positioned itself at the top of the shelf, and deserves it, unlike, for example, a million and one high-end vodkas that amount to nothing more than an empty promise.

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