 
 "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
The Plucky Survivors hit the road! On Wednesday my friends Mary and Rick left for their second (annual, I hope) trip across the back roads of the country in search of bacon, roadside attractions, awesomeness and America. 
Day 1, much of which was taken up with the nasty part of travel -- i.e. flying and airports and security and the confiscation of your toothpaste for your own safety -- but when it finally gets going also features relatives, Polish sausage, cutthroat games of Cow and lots and lots of corn. Day 2 is happening as you read, and will be updated later with tales of Maytag blue cheese, Dutch bakeries, the Amana Colonies (a German communal settlement dating to the 1800s) and The Maid-Rite in Cedar Rapids, about which we are assured we'll want to know. There are even rumors that there will be video from the road this time, although Rick is skeptical about editing on the road and uploading where free broadband might be sparse. Perhaps this could also be a voyage of discovery of free wi-fi in rural and small-town MIdwest. Let's keep our fingers crossed, though, because said videos, if they do come to pass, will be damned funny. Hit the road, Jack and Jill! The Cocktail Spirit, with Robert Hess. For those of you who'd like to catch up with me in small daily doses, here are links to two more of Robert's excellent videos on cocktails and mixology.
Actually, thanks to the cocktail renaissance, I'm hoping we'll be seeing lots and lots more cocktails made with bitters, and that it'll be in more conventional bars rather than just serious cocktailian ones. (A boy can dream, can't he?) Incidentally, here's how I made the Bloody Mary I had for breakfast last Sunday:
Oh my, it was good. I like the idea of adding ground chile to a Bloody Mary, and I may try this next time. To the ancho I'd add some chipotle, or else a few dashes of a good chipotle sauce like El Yucateca or Chipotle Tabasco (which is quite good). Music video of the day. I went to see Wilco, one of my very favorite bands, at the Greek Theatre Wednesday night, and not unexpectedly the show was comprised of 42 kinds of awesomeness. Jeff was so relaxed and fun and just right on the money with every song, and that combined with the shining beams of supernova coming from Nels Cline's guitar (which had me going "Wow, wow, wow!" with a big dopey grin on my face all night) ... well, I was a very happy boy. I've been a Wilco fan from the day it formed after the breakup of Uncle Tupelo, and Wilco just keep getting better and better. Last weekend my friend Michael sent around a link to a video on YouTube that he said made him feel "all warm and fuzzy," and I finally got to it last night. I can see why. The Bottle Rockets, featuring Brian Henneman (former Uncle Tupelo roadie and occasional sideman), part of the St. Louis music scene, had had a long association with Uncle Tupelo as had Brian's previous bands Chicken Truck and The Blue Moons. This long friendship has continued past Uncle Tupelo, demonstrated here in this clip from a Bottle Rockets performance from January 2006 with Wilco's Jeff Tweedy sitting in for a cover of Neil Young's "Walk On." Warm and fuzzy indeed. "Democracy Now!" on New Orleans. I missed this on the air yesterday, but thanks to the miracle of the Internetsss and archiving, we can listen to Pacifica Radio's signature morning program broadcasting live from the Lower Ninth Ward the day after the Katrinaversary of the U.S. government's floods. Topics include the state of New Orleans two years after the storm, allegations of relief money not making it to storm victims, and how New Orleans is rapidly turning from a public school city to a charter school city. Thanks to Nate for the link; I hope to get to it this weekend myself. The Great Iraq Swindle. Another link from Nate (thanks!), appearing in the current issue of Rolling Stone, tells us about how Bush allowed an army of for-profit contractors to invade the U.S. Treasury. "Operation Iraqi Freedom, it turns out, was never a war against Saddam Hussein's Iraq. It was an invasion of the federal budget, and no occupying force in history has ever been this efficient. George W. Bush's war in the Mesopotamian desert was an experiment of sorts, a crude first take at his vision of a fully privatized American government."
It gets worse. Read on. [ Link to today's entries ]
Two years ago today. Remember one thing -- this was not a natural disaster. This was a man-made disaster. (Specifically, a government-made disaster.) 
As far as the City of New Orleans has come along ... There are still huge swaths of destruction throughout the city. The city still only has 60% of its pre-Katrina-and-flood population. There are still people living in FEMA trailers. There are still areas in St. Bernard Parish with no telephone service. In the United States of America. In the Twenty-First Century. The rebuilding of a major American city nearly destroyed by the worst disaster in American history should have been the top priority for the current administration, who instead seemed more interested in the hopeless flogging of their awful, illegal war. Via Oyster, here's today's news:
 (Image by Greg Peters of Suspect Device) We are not OK. (And by "we," include the entire country.) Hurricane Katrina today. Joshua Clark sent me a link to a new site, hurricanekatrinanews.org, a supersite for the latest Katrina-related news,events, vital resources and "stuff that's constructive, informed and informative (which can't be said about too much of the media blather)." Leading off is a listing of today's events in the New Orleans area. Trombone Shorty in the Tremé. Troy Andrews, who long outgrew the nickname he still carries, talks about his neighborhood, it's musican heritage and traditions, and shows us why the crippled and threatened institution of the New Orleans neighborhood is crucial to the city's cultural and spiritual survival. The Cocktail Spirit, with Robert Hess. Yeesh, I don't know how I managed to get so far behind on this fantastic video series. I think I was glancing at Robert's site, seeing only the first two episodes linked, and not reading the fine print that eventually said there were more than 20 episodes in the can. The Small Screen Network site, which has done a beautiful job producing these videos, has the complete listing of what's been posted so far. If you're as far behind as I am and you don't want to slog through them all in one day, I'll post one or two of 'em every day until we're all caught up. Since we don't have a new one from Chris for a few more days, let's get two under our belts today. Unfortunately they're not set up to be embedded in other sites, so please use the links below:
Once you're caught up, sign up for their update mailing list so you'll know as soon as a new episode goes up. Does anybody really know what time it is? (I used to love that song when I was a kid.) Mary sent this news around this morning, and I'm kinda bummed about it too.
When I was growing up in New Orleans, it was 529-6111. I haven't dialed that number in 20 years, but I still remember it. There was a little ad before the time and temperature, but the one I remember the best is the one that seemed to run the longest. The sponsor was Werlein's for Music, a local instrument and sheet music store that was a local chain, and had its flagship store on Canal Street, in the space now occuiped by the Palace Café. The "Werlein's for Music" sign still adorns the top of that building, though, and I was thrilled to see it had survived the winds of Katrina. As for the ad, before you really knew what time it was there was a gravelly, Yatty, droning voice that intoned, "Guitaws, drums, pianas, awgans 'n everything musical at Werlein's!" Then the robotic Time-and-Temperature Lady chimed in ... "Time ... three ... forty-seven. Temperature ninety degrees." I'd still use the Time Lady every now and again to set my watch. 529-6111, now 853-1212. Gone. Sigh. [ Link to today's entries ]
Cocktail of the day: The Toronto. Taking Murray's suggestion from the comments on the Hanky Panky yesterday, we decided to continue at full speed past the Branca Barrier. The Toronto Cocktail, from The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks, David A. Embury's classic cocktail tome from 1948, was the choice and as it was Wes' turn to mix last night, I passed the recipe on to him. Since he thoguht that Embury's rather large proportions might make too big a drink (and after a long day at work, who wants to do math?), he decided to check a recipe on CocktailDB.com:
*sip* ... hey, it's pretty good. I kinda like this. The medicinal quality is there, more there than it was in the Hanky Panky, but it wasn't smacking me across the face, it was waving at me from the other side of the creek. It's quite an eye-opener, though, as it's really really dry. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course; I do like dry cocktails as compared to really sweet ones. But maybe this one could be a little less dry. "I don't think there's enough sugar," Wes agreed. "I'd go with a whole teaspoon next time." We did enjoy the drinks, though, but we certainly want to try the other version. In Embury's book the Toronto is listed among the "Whiskey Cocktails of the Aromatic Type," along with the Old Fashioned, and is actually described as "a modified Old-Fashioned." The first recommendation is to serve it with ice in an Old-Fashioned glass, with stir-and-strain as the second. I think next time we make this it'll be with the original Embury proportions (although not his exact recipe; we'll continue with Murray's recommendation of our beloved Rittenhouse 100-proof rye instead of the Canadian).
I'm also thinking of a variation that'll hearken back to my medicinal use of Branca, in hot water with honey -- maybe we'll see how it tastes with honey syrup (as long as drinking this drink doesn't make me think of being sick). New Orleans' Best Cocktails: The French 75. Master bartender Chris McMillian of the Library Lounge in New Orleans continues his excellent video series with a World War I-era classic. There's a bone of contention over the recipe of this drink, with some claiming that it's a brandy drink, and even making Cognac connections from France to New Orleans in describing an appropriate lineage. The overwhelming consensus is that this is a gin-based cocktail, even though if you go to the French 75 Bar at Arnaud's Restaurant in the French Quarter (one of my favorite bars) you'll get it with brandy. I like it better this way. That said, the brandy version is good too! Great news!! I got an email a week or so ago from Howard Rascoll informing me that the legendary Gene's Po-Boys, in the big pink building at the corner of Elysian Fields and St. Claude down in da Nint' Ward of New Orleans, is once again serving their marvelous hot sausage po-boys. "Gene's always made their own hot sausage, but Katrina wiped out our machines," said Howard. Even though they were able to reopen last year after being heavily damaged by both Hurricane Katrina and the Army Corps of Engineers' flood, there was no hot sausage on the menu. Looks like they got some new ones!  
HOORAY! If you're in New Orleans at the moment (which unfortunately I am not, and won't be for almost three months), hie thee to Elysian Fields and St. Claude and get yourself the best hot sausage poor boy in the city of New Orleans (which I hope it still is). Don't forget the cheese. "Life is worth living again!!!" writes Howard. Yeah you rite! Piiigs ... ooooon ... liiiiiine! Yesterday I got an email from Ed in the U.K., who wrote to tell us of a present his lovely wife got him "just before our second Scottish wedding." (Wow, I bet that was fun.) It's part of a series of online courses offered by an outfit called River Cottage, and specifically referring us to one called Online Pigs and Pork:
And let's face it, folks ... who doesn't want more from their pork? The online course is available for a fee of £20 (about $40 in withering U.S. dollars), or for £35 you can become a member of River Cottages and get all their courses, including others on mushrooms and fish catching and cooking. Thanks for the tip, Ed! Here's hoping your lovely wife gets you the absinthe you want for your birthday. (And since Liqueurs de France ships from the U.K. anyway, your shipping costs are likely to be a lot cheaper than mine.) Speaking of wanting the most from your pork, if you're a pork fanatic
you'll definitely want to read the most excellent book Pig Perfect: Encounters with Remarkable Swine and Some Great Ways to Cook Them
A day in the life of New Orleans. Los Angeles Times reporter Robert Fausset takes you through his former hometown, "from daybreak to closing time, with diary entries that capture the faces and voices of a battered city that lives nonetheless by the defiant credo of its Mardi Gras Indian troupes: 'We won't bow down.'" From an early morning start in New Orleans East to the Upper Ninth, Lower Ninth and Faubourg St. John, around town and into the projects, to the Columns on St. Charles and finishing up in the Marigny. It starts backwards from the top of the page, so if you want to read it in order go down to the bottom. [ Link to today's entries ]
Cocktail of the day: The Hanky Panky. This is one that I had noticed in The Savoy Cocktail Book, which compiled by The Savoy Hotel's head barman Harry Craddock in 1930, but I never made it because it was was one that I feared. Why? Because I feared Fernet Branca, one of the three (four, really) ingredients called for in this drink. I have a history of fearing rather odd drink ingredients -- there were days years ago when I feared both gin and vermouth, and now I'm gleefully swilling both of them nearly every day. I even grew to love Italian bitters, both as aperitivi and digestivi: Campari, Ramazzotti, Cora, Averna, Nonino ... I grew to love them all. But not Fernet Branca. For the longest time it was the sole bottle in our bar that we kept around strictly for medicinal purposes. Lest you chuckle at that old excuse for keeping alcohol around, it's true. It's a strong herbal liqueur, and as we've known for centuries herbs are used medicinally, and have effects on human physiology. I once heard a guy refer to Fernet Branca as "the medicine chest in my bar," which for years was an apt description. If I ever had an upset stomach or nausea, particularly from overindulgence, all I needed was one shot of Fernet Branca and I would invariably feel better in less than five minutes. Hardcore Italian drinkers would take it as a shot, or sipped over ice; the person from whom I got the online tip recommended it the way his Italian grandmother took it, in a teacup with hot water and a tablespoon of honey. The thing about Fernet Branca is not just its bitterness and herbal quality, which I can take and actually do enjoy. It's got a pretty overwhelming astringent medicinal quality to it that tended to remind me too much of the Nasty Medicine I had to take all through my childhood. I knew it had good stuff in it, but why must it have a layer of Nasty Medicine on top?! Over the past few years Wes and I had tried a few cocktails that called for Fernet Branca as an ingredient. We never could get past that medicinal quality, and never made them again, nor any other Fernet Branca cocktails. I kind of gave up. Then, two Fridays ago, there was another in a long series of advanced post-graduate cocktailian colloquia -- i.e., an evening of drinking at Dr. Cocktail's house. After waking up our palates with the liquid equivalent of a 2x4 upside the head -- sips of two wormwood-flavored bitter liqueurs (but not absinthes), Gorki List Pelinkovac from Serbia and the Swedish-style but Florida-made Malört, which Doc calls "eau de vie de dill pickle" and which is apparently hugely popular in biker bars, and both of which we rather liked -- we were offered a Fernet Branca-containing cocktail. If it comes from the Doctor's bar, I will try it, no matter what, so he told us about a drink invented by one Ada Coleman, who began work at the Savoy Hotel's bar in London in 1903, a drink that became her most famous and longest-lived. Harry Craddock, who began work there in 1920 and who published The Savoy Cocktail Book in 1930, included it due to its continuing popularity. The trick with this one, explained Doc, was using a really large orange twist not only to garnish the drink but from which you express as much orange oil as you can. The orange oil sprayed onto the surface of the drink, both for flavor and aroma, is what tames the Fernet Branca, reels it in, transforms it from Nasty Medicine to a marvelous subtle complexity. I seem to recall Doc making this with a 2:1 proportion of gin to vermouth (I'll have to double-check with him later), but we did it at the original proportion of 1:1. We did take Doc's suggestion, since it worked so well the first time we tasted it, to up the Fernet Branca content from 2 dashes to 1/4 ounce, and to make sure we sprayed a lot of orange oil from the peel. 
It was very cool indeed to sip this drink while toasting its creator, who conceived of it nearly a century ago. I also have Ada (and Doc) to thank for finally breaking my fear of Fernet Branca, as we'll make the Hanky Panky often. Next goal, to have it in a cocktail without a big spray of orange oil to keep it in check. Bacon world domination continues. I should read Michael Ruhlman's weblog more often -- it's very entertaining, and I love the way he writes about food, especially as I've enjoyed his books The Making of a Chef, The Soul of a Chef, The Reach of a Chef and others (he's also co-written huge cookbooks with Chefs Eric Ripert and Thomas Keller, and collaborated on that charcuterie book I really want). A few days back Ruhlman railed against what he alternately calls "the shame of the chicken Caesar" or even "the catastrophe of the chicken Caesar."
I'm usually not dining in the kinds of places that offer a chicken Caesar as a menu option, fortunately, and I'm not sure I've ever even had one, for all of the aforementioned reasons. But, but ... that one mention ... deep-fried pork belly Caesar?! Ruhlman's a man after my own heart, 'cause after tossing off that dish idea as a jokey aside, he went ahead and did it.
Genius. (The post includes the full recipe and photos.) The Fat Pack will undoubtedly do this. I'll let y'all know when. (Thanks a million to Mike Stevens for the tip on this article!) Keeping New Orleans in people's minds. Say what you will about the (in my opinion) declining Los Angeles Times, they've done a good job covering the situation in New Orleans over the past two years, and keeping the city's plight fresh in the minds of its readers. On Saturday there was this update on the city:
Then yesterday our friend Steve had a wonderful article on the state of the music scene (although we'd like to smack the headline-writer):
There were also a series of brief editorials, "Stitching Up New Orleans: "Katrina hit two years ago this week. How far has the city come; how far does it have to go? A newspaper editor, resident of the Lower 9th Ward, engineering professor and others give their thoughts." A Times article today made me aware of an online non-fiction graphic novel (a.k.a. "webcomic," a term I'm not thrilled with either) entitled "A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge" that I'd never seen before. It's really, really good -- Chapter 6 just went up, but you should go back and start reading from the beginning. Also there was a recent bit about Brad Pitt, one of New Orleans' new best friends, who was on hand at a construction site in the Lower 9th Ward, a house based on a winning design in a competition he helped launch. The house has "many 'green' features, including blue walls treated with a nontoxic repellant for mold and termites."
It sounds fantastic, but my one worry from that picture is ... it doesn't seem to look like a Lower Ninth Ward house. Let's not forget how important historic architectural integrity is to the culture of the city. Finally, a sad note -- former New Orleans Jazz coach Butch Van Breda Kolff died last Wednesday at the age of 84. He was a lot of fun to watch at Jazz games, and when I was at Holy Cross they honored him by making him an honorary alumnus -- he gave a great speech that day too. [ Link to today's entries ]
See you at the ballpark, Harry. Legendary Camellia Grill waiter Harry Tervalon, who took care of me on my very first visit to the Camellia at age 16 and countless times thereafter, and who was possibly the world's biggest fan of the New York Yankees, died last night of cancer at the age of 87.
Man, I loved the weather report. I also loved all the lingo he'd shout out to the chef after someone placed an order -- a burger or sandwich dresed was "put a dress on it!" A takeout order was "goin' bye-bye!" He was friendly and funny (even if you heard the same jokes over and over, they were still funny), and a consummate professional. He was there to make sure you had a good meal and a good time, and he always did a great job. I can't even count how many times he took care of me (and I'd always hope the timing of the wait was right so that I could be seated in his section (but if I ended up getting seated in Mr. Bat's section, I didn't mind at all). And always, his farewell was "See you at the ballpark!" The first time I dined at the Camellia I was seated all the way to the right, and Harry took care of me. My first order was their Grilled Frankfurter with Cheese and Bacon Sandwich (which is really terrific and a lot better than it sounds), with fries, an iced tea and a chocolate freeze with ice cream for dessert. I was a little confused and unclear of the concept and protocols at the Camellia, and waited for Harry to present me with a bill so I could pay him. He in turn was waiting for me to leave my tip, take my order slip and head to the cashier (whom I hadn't really noticed on the way in because of the big crowd), and kept wondering why I was still sitting there. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked. "Water? Anything?" No thank you, I murmured, in those days still too shy to do something radical like say, "May I have the check please?" Eventually the puzzled Harry figured it out, and gently pointed me in the directi |
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Author Peter Kaminsky searches the world for the best pork, and you'll learn why the best pork in the
world is light-years removed from the shrink-wrapped, flavorless stuff at your local supermarket; in
fact, you'll learn that the best pork in the world is from a particular strain of pigs that are allowed
to roam and forage on acorns and peanuts, and why that makes their meat indescribably delicious, and
their fat almost good for you.