 
 "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
Cocktail of the day. This is an original creation by Robert Hess, which we found on his DrinkBoy site. It was concocted in 2006 for one of the "Spirited Dinners" during Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, to accompany a dish at Antoine's called Filet de truite aux ecrevisses cardinal (de saison), or, filet of trout, grilled or fried, with crawfish tails in season (shrimp out of season) in a white wine sauce.
This is a wonderful drink, with the spicy rye and citrusy, floral Lillet balancing one another beautifully. Wish I coulda tasted it with that dish. [ Link to today's entries ]
Blurring the boundaries. So, the Fat Pack had a party a couple of years ago, our first featuring a chocolate fountain (into which we dipped bananas and other fruits and berries, marshmallows, chunks of pound cake, pork spareribs and bacon). Not long before this event a conversation started about cake and pie. We all pretty much agreed that we're all fans of both cake and pie, each having its particular merits, and started discussing lard vs. butter in pie crust, frosting-to-cake ratios, etc. Then we started talking about what makes it cake, and what makes it pie, and what if those definitions were blurred somewhat? As a consequence of this conversation, Rick showed up at the aforementioned chocolate fountain party bearing a pie. But not just any ordinary pie ... This was Cakepie. 
The pie crust had been prebaked for a while, then painted with melted chocolate, then a layer of cherry pie filling was added. Then that was filled with chocolate cake batter and baked until set, and the top frosted with chocolate frosting. It was weird. The concept was sound but needed tinkering. But it was really, really good. 
Flash-forward a couple of years or so, to last weekend's Second Thanksgiving, for which we had Mary's Baked Ham with LeeAnn's Pig Perfect Glaze, Nettie's Baked Yams with Kahlúa and Rum (whicih had actually caught fire in the oven and developed a lovely brulée crust with the marshmallows), Diana's Artichoke Casserole and fresh, scratch-made Cream of Asparagus Soup and my own Hot Sausage and Bacon Po-Boy Sliders. (Earlier in the day I wondered what Nueske's bacon would taste like on a hot sausage poor boy. The answer is, "Good.") Oh, and Diana also brought this: 
What is it? It's ... Piecake! She took the pie-vs.-cake/cake-vs.- pie concept to its next insane level by flipping it on its headm making a two-layer yellow cake with an entire pecan pie and an entire pumpkin pie baked into it, then frosted with a milk chocolate frosting and sprinkled with chocolate chips. She's mad. Mad, I tell you, MAD! Mad effin' genius ... (Sorry for the crappy iPhone photo; I forgot to bring my camera to Second Thanksgiving.) [ Link to today's entries ]
NEW RSS FEED! Okay, the old RSS feed I was running through xmlhub.com is seriously banjaxed; I can't even access their site without it trying to open 40 tabs in my browser. Erik informed me that it hadn't updated in over a week (longer than my last post, even), so I'm doing away with that feed altogether. I seem to have a locally-generated one working, so try this one on for size: That should work. If not, lemme know. (P.S. -- I may be putting out a call for help -- paid help, mind you -- to get this blog switched over to some kind of blogging software, probably either Movable Type, which my webhost already offers, or WordPress. Advice on which system is best will be appreciated. I'll also need the end result template to keep the blog looking just like this, though. Think of this as an unofficial, testing-the-waters call ... anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) Happy birthday, Miss Ella! Ella Brennan, matriarch of the wonderful Brennan family of New Orleans, was born today in a bygone year (I would never reveal a lady's age, although she may be willing to do so herself). Although she no longer runs Commander's Palace on a daily basis (her daughter Ti and niece Lally do), she still lives right next door and keeps an eye on things. The king of New Orleans restaurants, a training ground for great chefs and one of the country's best, Commander's -- risen from the destruction of Katrina -- is in top form and as great as ever. Have a wonderful birthday, Miss Ella ... and enjoy your birthday cocktails! The Cocktail Spirit, with Robert Hess. Now apparently back on a semi-regular schedule, Robert demonstrates one of my favorite cocktails, tart and bracing but very pleasant, and one that I also use to try to convert vodka drinkers into gin drinkers.
Ardent Spirits and The Cocktailian. The Regans have a new newsletter out, which warrants your perusal. Among the delights within: a short, pithy review of Dave Wondrich's new book ("Imbibe is the best book ever written on the subject of cocktails and mixed drinks. Plain and simple. Best Ever. ... We mean it. Buy This Book Now."), and a visit to The Professor, whereupon we learn of a "Tuscan" variant of the Sidecar, made with a new Italian liqueur called Faretti Biscotti Famosi, with the "flavors of biscotti and offers nutty notes with hints of fennel, caramel, lemon zest and oranges." Recovering from Thanksgiving stupor. The meal went well (really well, in fact), but man ... I need me a sous-chef, or at least a prep cook. Yeesh. I stayed tried-and-true for the Turkey this year, but brined it with a mixture I found ready-made at Surfas, consisting of salt, brown sugar, bay leaves, rosemary, thyme, allspice, cloves and juniper berries. That was combined with 2 gallons of water, brought to a boil, simmered for a while, cooled to room temperature and chilled; then the turkey went in it for 12 hours or so. Thursday morning I got up, rinsed and dried the turkey, then made a mixture of 2/3 cup of softened butter and 1/2 cup of apple butter, rubbed that under the skin, stuffed the cavity with a quartered apple, a quartered red onion, and sprigs of thyme, sage, rosemary and marjoram. Oh, then I wrapped the whole thing in bacon. 4 hours at 350°F, and the skin was crispy and the bacon had sorta fused to it, and the drippings included a touch of bacon fat (which also basted the bird, along with the dripping butter). When we carved it after resting it was practically gushing with juice. The sides were pretty standard fare for us, but with a few twists. Instead of my own dressing recipe I made Chef John Besh's Shrimp, Andouille and Mirliton Dressing. There's no way I can get away without making my signature holiday dish, the Sweet Potatoes and Pears dish, but it had a different spin this year. The glaze is usually a Cane Syrup, Bourbon and Pear Glaze, but when I was getting ready to make this while the turkey was roasting I was gathering my mise en place and discovered that although I thought I already had pear nectar, I actually had none. Feck. No time to whine about it, so I let my culinary training kick in and immediately took the next steps: 1) see what you do have that might work, and B) change the name of the dish. What I did have was some passion fruit nectar, which we keep on hand for making cocktails (especially tiki cocktails). That went in instead of the pear nectar, and given its brighter tropical flavor I thought it'd go much better with rum than with Bourbon; I then reached for the Lemon Hart Demerara rum. The end result: Sweet Potatoes and Pears with Cane Syrup, Passion Fruit and Rum Glaze. I think this version is actually better. Gotta love happy accidents. Next, my mom's classic Green Bean and Artichoke Casserole, with lots of olive oil, onions, black pepper, Italian bread crumbs, Parmigiano-Reggiano plus a little basil, rosemary, thyme and oregano. Wes' sister brought Garlic Smashed Potatoes with lots of tasty bits of potato skin, plus we had a Green Salad with Cherry Tomatoes and Croutons, and a classic Cranberry Relish with Onions and Orange Zest. Dessert was a Banana, Chocolate Chip and Pecan Bread Pudding with Bananas Foster Sauce, plus a Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie someone brought, and a Pumpkin Pie that I must confess I didn't touch. Desserty imbibing was courtesy of Modern Spirits, just about the only flavored vodka we keep around anymore (besides Stolichnaya Razberi for the occasional Footloose). Their vodkas are very smooth, beautifully flavored and meant to be paired with food; the new flavor this year -- Pumpkin Pie, made with pumpkin purée and traditional spices, based on their family's secret pumpkin pie recipe. Then I had to drive to Northridge and do a radio show, because I couldn't get a sub. Ugh. It was mostly good, though ... nice to just sit and relax and listen to music instead of the frenzy of shopping, prep and cooking I had been doing for the past two days. I got some good calls from listeners too; it was nice to know that there were conscious people actually listening after their big meals! Then there was one call from some yutz who apparently took exception to my having played a Katrina-related song and referring to the flooding caused by the failure of the federal government's levees. I had no idea where he was coming from, but if he's going to presume to lecture to me on that being anything but a man-made disaster in that city, he can go back there as a stop on his way to Hell. ("I'll be writing you a letter about what you said." ... Uh, knock yourself out, pal.) Friday was a day of rest, at least -- we went to see Frank Darabont's new film of Stephen King's story "The Mist," which was superb. It's always been one of my favorite King stories, and Darabont adapted it faithfully while expanding on it considerably. The last 10 or 12 minutes of the film take place after King's original story ends (or rather, just stops). The film is scary as hell, psychologically tense, and unrelentingly bleak. This is a good thing. The one thing that would have ruined this movie, which I was hoping wouldn't happen, would be the studio-enforced, obviously tacked-on sunshiney happy ending. I'll stop talking now. Saturday was half-leisure and half prepping for yet another event at home that weekend, so with a few welcome interruptions for lunch in the neighborhood and dinner with friends (and meeting our friends' Jennifer and Daniel's new baby Sam!), I spent a goodly part of Saturday and part of Sunday making red beans 'n rice, Creole hot sausage, Louisiana Sunburst Salad (with mixed greens, port-soaked cranberries, toasted almonds and crumbled Stilton in a cinnamon-Tabasco vinagirette) and a big bowl of Columbian Exposition Punch, made with Jamaica rum, brandy, Chartreuse, oolong tea, orange juice, lemon juice, sugar and Champagne. It is, as the Doctor says, "a serious punch." That was for Sunday evening, when we had three of our favorite bartenders and their significant others over to deepen our friendships and show our appreciation for what they do. Other bits of drinking broke out, of course -- we served Champagne Cocktails doused with our stash of Abbott's Bitters (recalling and honoring the warm hospitality we were shown on our first visit to the Doctor and Nurse's Casa de Cocktail many years ago), a similarly Abbott's-spiked Manhattan (with which we usually use Rittenhouse 100, but this time Wes used Sazerac 6 Year with marvelous results), a Hoskins and a round of amaro at the end. I was thrilled when I was asked if I had any amaro, or Italian digestivi -- Italian bitters for sipping after dinner. I so rarely get to break them out in this quantity, and around the room went small glasses of Fernet Branca, Nonino, Averna, Cora, Ramazzotti and Cynar. We had a stupendously good time that night, despite how tired I was -- I was so loopy I actuall forgot the Hoskins proportions for a second, and then absentmindedly began to shake it instead of stir ("Waitaminute ... what the hell am I doing?!" said I, after about a second of shaking which was quickly stopped). Dude, NEVER schedule two big events in one holiday weekend again! That said, I have no regrets! Tomorrow we'll have a little extra coverage of our infamous Second Thanksgiving, this year at Mary and Steve's house, and in preview I'll only say one word: Piecake. Nagin = clueless. Not only clueless, but hypocritical and stupid. He declares himself to be "disgusted" with the lamentably low voter turnout in the recent New Orleans elections (about 20%), yet he himself has failed to vote in the last three local elections, including the one in which a new governor was chosen. If he's not going to actually do anything could he at least just shut the fuck up? Presidential Debates Commission stabs New Orleans in the back. You probably heard about this; in case you haven't, read on. Rob Florence in New Orleans sent this compendium of local coverage and reactions. (Emphases all mine.)
Make your opinion known. [ Link to today's entries ]
Hoskins taste test: Torani vs. Boudreau. I'd have already done this myself, if I weren't such a procrastinating eejit. Actually, I do have a bit of an excuse -- my order for bitter orange peel seems to have gone missing, and rather than waste more time I'm gonna make a little trek to one of the Middle Eastern markets on Pico between Robertson and La Cienega, as I know they have dried bitter orange peel. It's out of the way, but doable. The bitter orange peel, you may recall, is for making orange tincture, an essential ingredient in what I've taken to calling "Amer Boudreau," Jamie Boudreau's Amer Picon replica, which was really good when I tasted it in New Orleans in July, and now, from what I hear, even better now that he's tweaked the recipe further. My aim, as I mentioned before, was to try that as the prmary flavoring ingredient in my signature cocktail, the Hoskins, instead of Torani Amer, which is what it was initially built around, and see what happens. The Torani was taking the place of the Amer Picon in the Mother-in-Law Cocktail that I was involved in helping resurrect at the time, and the flavor of that spirit inspired me to try to create a cocktail around it. Now, in that cocktail, the idea is to replace the original liqueur, which was a substitute in the M-i-L, with another substitute, which is actually a replica of the original. Follow me? I thought not. Let's forge on. Since I hadn't gotten around to doing it myself yet, I put out a call to see if anyone who had completed a batch of Jamie's Picon replica was willing to give it a try, and intrepid Looka! reader Mike S. stepped up to the plate and made what's got to be the best comments post in the history of this weblog (and not only because he said nice things about my drink). THIS, my friends, is what cocktailing is all about! I now had the floor to Mike, whose post I have promoted from the comments section to the front page:
... Wow. I hardly know where to begin. First off, my undying thanks to Mike for being the first to try this out, and to describe his results in such careful, loving detail. You sir, should you find yourself anywhere near where I live, will not be paying for any of your drinks if we get the opportunity to meet and tipple. Next ... I really need to get my butt in gear and make a speed-steep version of orange tincture. I need to try this, like, yesterday. I can't wait to see what it does for the drink, and whether I will alter the recipe permanetly, recommending the use of this new flavoring base, or include Amer Boudreau as another option, or call it a Hoskins No. 2. Even without tasting I'm inclined toward the latter two; one thing Torani Amer has going for it is its relative availability (you can order it online via Beverages & More, and I can easily find it on the shelves of my local liquor emporia. It's also bottled and ready to go, and doesn't take a month or more to make. That said, I'm very excited about this. Next step ... seeing if anyone I know has any vintage pre-reformulation Amer Picon and see if they'll spare 3/4 of an ounce of it for yet another taste test! Thanks again, Mike! Aged egg nog? It hadn't occurred to me, but it makes perfect sense. Jonathan Hunt posts on Chow.com a recipe for The Best Egg Nog, about which he says, "At an expat holiday party in Shanghai in the 1920s, my grandfather tasted the finest eggnog he had ever had. It took him seven years to wheedle the recipe out of the host. Once he got it, he gave an annual party on the Sunday evening following Thanksgiving to make the nog. Unlike most eggnog recipes, this one calls for aging the egg nog for at least 3 weeks prior to consumption, or up to a year, which allows the flavors to meld." Wow. Brooks, who sent in the link (thank you!), said, "Are you not fascinated by the idea of an eggnog that ages for three weeks to a year? I know I am." I am too. I'll make a batch for Christmas this week, and a second batch for next Christmas! By the way, if you're worried about using uncooked eggs in this concoction, unless you have specific immune system problems, don't worry -- you probably won't have a problem, as long as your booze is strong enough. This article also explains what happens during that egg nog aging, and why that makes it taste so good. [ Link to today's entries ]
Cocktail of the day. Wesly dug this one up. It appears in Dr. Cocktail's book Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, although I had forgotten it was there. (Forgetting forgotten cocktails, we must not do that!) Fortunately, thanks to him and the Greater Siblinghood of Cocktailian Webloggers, it's being enjoyed again today. It should be enjoyed more often, as it's delightful and easy to make, and is a perfect introduction to the wonderful world of Campari for Campari newbies. Campari can be a bit much for the uninitiated -- it's pretty bitter, and the Teeming Masses tend to have an irrational fear of the bitter -- but is a taste very much worth acquiring, especially in cocktails where it's a co-conspirator rather than an absolute dictator. A drink like this -- a kinder, gentler cousin to the Negroni -- makes for a perfect apéritif, giving your palate a nice little wake-up shake, rather than the slap of a Negroni (which is my favorite kind of slap). It's got an almost fruity aroma, with the Cointreau and the Campari combining with that magical alchemy into a flavor much like grapefruit, gentled by the vermouth and wrapped together and seasoned by the gin. It's a cocktail most bartenders will never have heard of, but one you could talk them through easily.
The drink is named for a wonderful French fencer, who competed in the Jeux Olympiques in the 1920s, winning gold medals in '24 and '28. "It is, therefore," says Doc, "a very mature Prohibition cocktail." Food joy of the day. Yesterday, Robb sent out The Fat Signal. "Rumor has it that Scoops will have Bacon Caramel, Bacon Chocolate, and Ham & Honey ice cream today (Saturday) Interested in going?" That's a silly question. Scoops, as you may have heard me talk about before, is a singularity of food genius in Los Angeles, in the form of a small, unassuming-looking ice cream parlor. The mad genius behind it, Tai Kim, creates flavors beyond your wildest dreams, often never to be made again unless by popular demand, often running out halfway through the day only to be replaced by something completely different. It's some of the best ice cream I've ever had, and can be had in the form of two big scoops for the ridiculous price of two bucks. (You pay more than that for one scoop at most of the decidedly crappy-by-comparison chains, and I am really sick of those mix-in places, by the way, but that's a rant for another day.) Most weekends he does a theme; this weekend there seemed to be two -- bacon and cheese. I rebroadcast The Fat Signal via SMS, email and telephone, and we managed to get a small but respectable crowd at Scoops by 3:30. (When Wes called Steve and recited Robb's alert, his instant response was "Oh my God! When are we going?!" I love these people.) When we got there we found out that sadly the Ham & Honey ice cream "didn't work out," for unspecified reasons. Our speculation was that it sounded great on paper (and it does), but came out tasting yucky. No matter he forged on, and here are the ice cream flavors we had between the five of us:
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