EMBURY COCKTAILS

Discretion Is The Better Part Of Street Drinking & FIDI Iced Tea

A friend and I stepped into line outside the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater in Chelsea recently and found ourselves standing next to the two fellows above who were drinking out of plain white paper cups with the requisite adult sippy lips, the kind one gets on a Starbuck's coffee.  Instinct told me it wasn't coffee in these cups however, and as we chatted with our neighbors the conversation further aroused my suspicion. The gentlemen were waiting to see bracingly dark comic Anthony Jeselnik, whose jokes run to the extremely black: "Someone asked if I would watch their houseplant while they were out of town and I'm like, I can't even keep a baby alive".  While Joren Hodel (L) engaged in some sort of lively text exchange Jason Lewis (R) ran more of Jeselnick's jokes for us. The gentlemen were friendly, witty and charming, and a bit irreverent and cool and even ribald, all without laying it on too thick. That's one of the most optimum states that drinking can escort you to, and if they were aided in their journey by something a little Irished up in those cups, it was working.

Lewis would later provide the recipe for the impressively well R & D'ed cocktail that they, in fact, were drinking. The "FIDI Iced Tea" turned out to be swell but what was most interesting at that moment were these stealth cocktail containers. Hodel pulled himself away from what I'm pretty sure was  lively sexting session and declaimed his master strategy with the cups. He'd ordered them in bulk from Whole Latte Love, 1,000 Commercial Solo Single Poly Paper Hot Cups at a cost of $56 cups and Commercial Travel Lids to match at about $50. For their swinging ventures out at night Hodel had learned to double up the cups to avoid seepage or condensation, and added an ingenious touch to thwart giveaway moisture--a layer of paper towel between to two cups. True commitment to the bit.

Well done. And later, in response to a query as to what exactly was in those cups Lewis texted back: FIDI Punch. Our drink (which we christened as the FIDI Iced Tea and took a month to perfect) is a combination of 3 shots vodka (after trying 20+ vodkas the only that work are Svedka, Grey Goose, Wodka, and the little known dirt cheap Ruskova) canada dry (do not go with Schweppes) lemon lime club soda, and a few squirts of lime juice from the plastic limes in the produce section (Grateful Harvest is best if you can find it).  Is not this sort or erudition and strategizing to make life more elegant and harmonious the very definition of being a true modern gentleman? So keep drinking on the streets: just keep it discrete.

Cocktail World Cup: Team Scotland's "The Wandering Chai"

For the punch competition at the Cocktail World Cup Team Scotland ( L-R, Aaron Jones, Ben McFarlane and Nick Reed) may not have won (Team U.S.A. took it home that night) but they did come up with a winner. A delicious milk-style punch, with soy milk taking the place of milk milk, some homemade chai, Appleton's 8 Year Old Rum and the 42Below Manuka Honey. When explaining their thinking behind the drink to the judges (including "Punch: The Delights (And Dangers) Of The Holiday Bowl" author David Wondrich, which made it a bit nerve-wracking, to be certain) the team talked about the fast pace of modern life and the popularity of coffee drinks on the go--to that end the punch was served warm, and in paper coffee cups, with sippy lids.

The use of soy was ingenious, keeping the mix from becoming too fatty, too savory--and it was one of the best uses of the hard-to-define Manuka in a cocktail that I've ever experienced. It was perfect for a cool fall night--as it was  when we were in New Zealand, and as it's--hopefully--the last few wet, cold weeks of spring here in the North there's still a chance to enjoy this liquid antidote to the chill.

THE WANDERING CHAI

800ml Soy milk
600ml 42 Below Manuka Honey
300ml Appletons 8yo Rum.
300ml Homemade chai syrup (made by boiling down chai tea and 1:1 sugar to water.)
A large knob of butter

Add all ingredients to a saucepan and heat (not boil) until butter is melted and milk warm. Serve in a take away coffee cup with a piece of home made almond and manuka honey praline.

Key West Literary Seminar 2011: The Hungry Muse & The Debut of The Airstream Gimlet

Things have been a little quiet online here at Embury in the past couple weeks, but in the real world we've been busy mixing up cocktails for the many, many parties that occur during the Key West Literary Seminar. The theme this year, "The Hungry Muse: An Exploration of Food in Literature", meant the crowd was extra food savvy, and we took a cue from the kitchen for our cocktails. Kumquats, Meyers, agave & fresh-squeezed citrus dominated our creations . For the sort of crowning--or at least most flashy--moment of our ten-day journey of cocktailing we went to the rosemary section of the garden, pulling together a bristlingly fresh vodka gimlet with rosemary-infused simple syrup, and serving to 300 guests from the inside of at giant 1986 Airstream.

Brother Josh and his wife Bonnie had driven their Airstream down to Key West from Maine and when I saw it for the first time the idea of serving cocktails from it for one of the KWLS events popped into my head, fully formed. Josh and Bonnie were game, and thus we all embarked on a hairbrained scheme that was so crazy it might just--and in fact did-work. Batching massive amounts of a new invention, a Kettel One Rosemary Gimlet was the first step, but prepping the Airstream and scheming on how to best execute this. We decided to pop up outside the San Carlos, the auditorium where the Seminar takes place after Adam Gopnik's Keynote Address, and serve drinks from the trailer's kitchen window to guests as they exited the building. This required a test run prior to the evening's events to see if the 34 foot trailer would even fit in the loading zone outside the building. It did, and quite neatly thanks to Josh's really astonishingly good parallel parking skills. So we proceeded with the plan, crossing our fingers that our permit-free and doubtless quite, quite illegal endeavor would not land us in jail. When we pulled up a time hinged to when we though Gopnik's talk would end, we found half a dozen scooters parked in our spot--not assigning a team to guard it was a mistake. (It was a loading zone and they shouldn't have been there, but still--a glaring oversight in our cocktail heist). But after hauling them out of the way Josh got 'er nestled up against the curb and we set to fixing up 300 gimlets. And we served all of them, and got away without attracting attention from the cops. Somehow.

Moments before the storm. Airstream co-pilot Bonnie with Lauren Kincheloe, and Airstream Gimlets on the ready.

So this was the site awaiting Seminar guests as they exited Gopnik's talk (notes on that here).

AIRSTREAM GIMLET

1 1/2 Part Kettel One Vodka
3/4 Part Lime
3/4 Part Rosemary syrup

Combine ingredients on ice, shake well, pour over fresh ice. Garnish with a sprig of fresh rosemary. If serving in large quantities simply batch all the elements together and shake each drink to order, pouring over fresh ice. And as always with big batches, mix it on the sour side to begin, and gradually bring up the sweet until it's right.

ROSEMARY SYRUP
Separate the leaves from the stem of the rosemary. Start a good sugar syrup--equal parts water and sugar--anything from Sugar In The Raw, Turbanado or Demarara works nicely. Heat slowly, adding lots of rosemary and bringing the mixture to a low boil, keeping it there for about five minutes, stopping before the rosemary turns brown. Let the syrup cool in the pot to achieve maximum extraction. Strain before using.

Somehow I scored Lauren Kincheloe as my partner-in-crime (literally). Lauren cut her teeth bartending at Employees Only and helms the bar at Bar Marmont when she's not breaking various laws in the service of gonzo cocktailing. She came up with a couple original cocktails over the course of the events--we'll be running those recipe here this week.

It was a pretty impressive mob scene on the sidewalk for about ten or fifteen minutes. Guerilla cocktailing--wave of the future.

Full recipes from all the parties will be posted here this week. For more on the Seminar itself check out Bone Island Book Blog for some fine crib notes on the panel discussions and readings from the week..  We'll also be featuring the recipe for tapenade crostini (for 300) from Lisa Esposito, who served out of another window of the Airstream.

 

Sangritas, Verdita & The Evil Michelada.

Check out a fine assortment of variations on Sangritas and Micheladas at Inside F & B, including our pet passion, the Verdita. F & B Editor Francine Cohen managed to refine a very general, feel-your-way recipe for the mint, cilantro, jalapeno and pineapple riff on the sangrita into the first really coherent proper recipe version--many thanks on that. Naren Young's recipe for the Evil Michelada at Locanda Verde looks wickedly good, and somehow made me think of Kids In The Hall's Simon & Hecubus and their gleeful evil antics; Watch after the jump. (The above photo is actually of Charles Steadman's also-tasty sounding Dragón Rojo which is served at Echo Palm Beach and is mentioned in the same article. We're thinking the Evil Michelada looks very much like it, however.)

EVIL MICHELADA

1/2 oz. Tequila
1/2 oz. Mezcal
1/2 tsp. Chipotle puree
Juice of 1/2 lime

Pour over ice, add beer and stir well
Served in a glass rimmed with smoked paprika/salt mixed together.

Naren Young, Locanda Verde

Photo: Charles Steadman

Wednesday's Cocktail: The High Altitude

When in Sydney recently I shot a little how-to with the irrepressible Max Greco at my favorite bar in the Southern Hemisphere, Eau de Vie. This was shot on my iPhone which, while it delivers a fairly acceptable video in some situations, isn't so great in the velvety dimness of the little hideaway, so I apologize for the dodgy quality. I can assure you that Max's cocktail is anything but dodgy, and while Braulio may be difficult to locate (one U.S. source here) your efforts would be rewarded in herb-y, warming spades. Better, still, to go to Sydney and ask Max to make one for you himself. J.R.

THE HIGH ALTITUDE

40ml Rittenhouse rye
20ml Dubonnet
20ml Braulio

Stir till the right dilutions is achieved then strain into a rocks glass with a big chunk of ice. Garnish with orange twist.

Krimko On Wine: Argentina

  

Argentina. It's been too long since I've been back.  I have no good reason to procrastinate: the trip was wonderful, and there was much good wine drunk.  Without further ado, then, a vinous travelogue of a month in Argentina in April-May 2010.

While Brigid and I did drink some wine during the first week we spent in Buenos Aires, it was not until we traveled to Salta, the northwestern-most province of Argentina, that wine was drunk with attention.  Perhaps this in itself is a lovely thing about places like Argentina, where wine is mostly procured in supermarkets and always accompanies a meal.  Though there isn't as much recreational drinking of it, wine in these places assumes a vigorous place in the minor and major celebrations of which almost all humans partake.  It is there, like air and water, or bread, or sleep, or love. 

I will say, however, that we picked up a taste for a concoction that is enjoyed in recreational fashion, Fernet con coca.  It's exactly what you'd imagine: a healthy pour of Fernet Branca over rocks, then topped off with Coke.  Half and half, basically.  The Coke takes on a particularly silky and frothy texture when served this way, and its caffeine provides a good lift for conversations in cafés or impromptu dance parties.

Back to wine, and Salta.  Home to Argentina's second-largest wine-growing region (after the well-known Mendoza), Salta has a high desert climate that makes specific, even nervy wines.  The specialty is torrontés.  Perhaps the best wine I had on the whole trip was Ciclos' late harvest torrontés.  It was sweet and light, reminded me of tropical fruits, and gave me a euphoric feeling.  Somehow I neglected to get a photo of the bottle, but it was enjoyed at the same table you see in the picture below, on the porch outside our hotel room in Cafayate.

Cafayate is the town around which most of the Salta vineyards are gathered.  It's about three hours south of the capital city (also called Salta).  We drank a number of other good bottles there, including the Don David torrontés depicted.  This was a 'normal' cuvee and cost about $5.00 or $6.00 USD.  The Ciclos late harvest wine was 'expensive,' and set us back $15.00.  There is fantastic value to be had.  I wonder if some of this has to do with the fact that it's almost impossible to fine non-Argentinian wine.

 
I didn't do any vineyard tours or anything, but we ate good simple food in Cafayate (above) and met some sweet street dogs.  There were some vineyards spied from the road.  In the photo at the top of the post you can see the desert environs.  Said roads take the tourist past incredible scenery: high, plain-covered mountains, candy-colored canyons, and an expansive salt flat, complete with fauna (below).  

We spent our last night in Salta at a pleasantly rundown hotel managed by a friendly woman whose son shared my birthday.  Out of gas, we ate a terrible pizza in our room and gave it a good friend in a bottle of Nanni tannat.  It's made from organic grapes and austerely dry, the way I like a quality table wine.  The plastic tablecloth, plastic cups, and wax paper plates were a classy touch.

Back in Buenos Aires, I finally visited Autre Monde (autremonde.com.ar), a self-styled 'boutique de vinos.'  This kind of store is rare in Argentina, for the reasons outlined above.  But Victor, the owner, is smart about wine and knows a lot about what is being made and drunk in Europe and North America.  He too only carries Argentinian bottles, but specializes in artisanally made wine, small-production vineyards, etc. 

Above you see three of them: La Madrid, a single-vineyard bonarda from Mendoza; 25/5 Merlot, made in the low desert province of La Pampa, and Jean Rivier tocai, also made in Mendoza.  Each was not what you would expect from Argentinian wine.

The bonarda was like no other single-varietal bonarda I have ever had, infinitely richer and more layered.  The desert merlot, perhaps the most interesting of these three bottles, was also rich, and rather dirty.  The tocai was light, drinkable, and easy to not attach a string of adjectives to: it was for drinking, though more interesting than a lot of the other white wine I bought in supermarkets, and much of the white wine one drinks, period.  In this photo the three bottles are posing with the remains of a roast chicken I ate.  The Argentinians grill and roast food expertly.  I found their diet of meat (really some of the best you will eat) and birds and coffee and beer and Fernet most agreeable.  The vegetables were not bad either, nor were the juices.

I didn't drink all of these three bottles at once, but looking back on the trip it's nice to imagine that I did.  Travel is like that.  In retrospect it can seem like a happy blur, a bit extravagant, not a little disorienting, capable of wearing you out.  And looking back at all the meals and occasions, it's possible to see them as one long feast, punctuated by toasts.  Stuart Krimko

Literary Cocktails: The Bennett

The weather was erratic in Key West over the 4 days of the Literary Seminar this year, ranging from bizarrely cool, wet and blustery on Saturday to a typical sunny January day with a high in the low 70s on Friday. This was fortunate as the drink I'd planned for then was the beguiling citrus and gin number, The Bennett, a perfect warm weather choice (although I've had 'em in the dead of winter with no ill effect.) We were stationed on the second floor of the historical building where the Seminar is held, the San Carlos Institute, a beautiful 1924 structure whose design echoes many elements of Cuban architecture--the Institute was founded by expatriates led by Jose Marti in 1871.  We anticipated about 100 guest for that evening's party and so batched up a large quantity, expanding from the original recipe:

THE BENNETT

1 1/2 ounce Hendrick's Gin
3/4 ounce lime juice
3/4 ounce simple syrup
2 dashes Regans' Orange Bitters

Shake and pour over ice into a rocks glass, or strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a cucumber slice.

We expanded this pretty massively, working from the basis that a 1 liter bottle equals 33 ounces, which means one bottle contains 22 1 1/2 ounce servings. Thus was born:

THE BENNETT PUNCH

4 liters Hendrick's Gin
2 liters fresh lime juice (fresh is key--if you don't have a juice, try a local juice bar and arrange to purchase the necessary quantity of juice from them.)
2 liters simple syrup (we started with Demerara sugar which brought a nice base note that anchored the high citrus element)

We batched the whole thing in a large container, then shook each one to order, which added some necessary ice and water into the mix. We strained into plastic cups garnished with cucumber slices, and as a finishing touch hit each one with a couple drops of Gary Regan's Orange Bitters #5 as we served each drink, which brought that orange, cardamom flavor right to the nose on the first sip.

A couple things I learned: you can't ever have enough of a punch, for if it's tasty enough someone will invariably come back looking for more, and also that 8 ounce plastic cups fall over under the weight of cucumber garnishes. Otherwise, armed with this info, you're ready to make this one for your next party--it's light, refreshing, and not too potent, but the citrus, sugar and general delightfulness of it gets guests happy fast.

 

Here's Jim Ryan of Hendrick's explaining how to make a single Bennett:

Past Key West Literary Seminar posts here

Fantasy Fest, Smuggler's Paradise, And Several Thoughts On Tailgate Punching Technique

 
Dateline: Key West, Fantasy Fest '09. For several years creative juggernaut Cayman Smith-Martin has been dominating the giant annual parade in terms of pure balls-out creativity, assembling large groups of local kids of all ages to help create high concept ensemble performance art krewes for the event that marks the climax of the week-long, all-the-way-over-the-top  party. Most floats are simply sloppily-themed slutty chicks or dudes dancing around to pop hip hop--Cayman's projects tell a story, from his Indian-themed "Lotus Eaters" to the dazzling "Dia De Los Muertos" to this year's theme, his most ambitious yet. "Smuggler's  Paradise" was an epic recreation of a golden, dirty era in Key West's past-the early 70s, when the string of islands were one of the biggest in points for drugs coming from the Caribbean and Central and South America. By all accounts it was an incredibly lawless era, a wild, wild west on the water, with massive amounts of drugs and money changing hands between various players from drug cartels, hippy importers and corrupt cops. Cayman set out to recreate this legendary time with some 60 players.

Since I was going to be in town I thought I might pitch in with some kind of punch. The theme of Smuggler's Paradise made me think of Sailor Jerry Rum, with its surfer, slightly punk image and serious punchability. I was particularly keen to use an off-message rum, as that lousy Captain Morgan Rum was a main sponsor of Fantasy Fest. Sailor Jerry's is affordable and mixable and after I stocked up I started sourcing punch fixins' the morning of the parade. One unusual detail was that I planned to make it from scratch at the staging grounds for the parade--on site, and hopefully enlivening, stimulating, euphoria-enhancing, something that would contribute in some way to this endeavor and this vibe.

Sticking with the sweaty, Caribbean theme I went with tropical fruits--I was tempted to go with fresh-squeezed juices, but given the rough, in-the-field nature of the event and the as-yet unknown facilities, I opted for the highest grade store bought juices I could find, and garnished the punch liberally with slices and chunks of fresh fruit. 100% fresh is of course always best, but in this case expediency trumped purity. I picked up some fresh (in the not-pasteurized but not-fresh squeezed sense) OJ. In Key West the best available--and it's quite good-- is Orchid Island. Mango juice from Looza Juices was my secret weapon, bringing the serious island flavor. Fresh lemon and lime juice, and slices of pineapple and banana rounded it all out, and lots and lots of Sailor Jerry punched it up and lots and lots of club soda stretched it back out. cI transported all the gear and product to the staging grounds (basically just a waterfront) in a bike trailer lent by a friend, and found a friendly tailgate where Cayman and crew were getting prepped and got to work.

SMUGGLER'S PARADISE PUNCH

(No recorded ratios...)

Sailor Jerry's Rum
Orchid Island Orange Juice
Loov Mango Juice
Lemons
Limes
Angostura Bitters
Banana slices
Pineapple Slices
Club soda
Ice 

I gained some insight into creating punches in the wild; below are some thoughts.

DO: Splurge on very good juice. Non-pasteurized is a good start, and never, ever Tropicana. You might as well pour corn syrup in the punch.

DO: Use big ice cubes made in take out soup or yogurt containers. I messed around with bags of deli ice and it adds complication and drips water everywhere. The giant cubes melt slowly and are easy to transport.

DO: Bring Angostura bitters. Other kinds of bitters too, possibly, like Fee Brother Rhubarb or Regan's Orange # , but never be withouth Angostura. It can rescue a punch that's gotten too sweet and butch it up, and fast, bringing a dirty rootsy flavor that punctures anything saccharine that you've mixed by mistake.

DON'T: bother cutting up bananas, unless it's a garnish. They don't juice up. Try a Looze banana juice.

DO: Squeeze fresh lemon and/or lime juice. This brings the sweetness of the juices back into tangy, interesting territory, and makes even lame tinned juices taste more alive.

DO: Use soda water liberally. You will not regret watering a delicious punch down a little and stretching it out, and neither will your thirsty chums.

DO: Let one batch pretty much run out before starting another--I had a never ending, ever-mutating punch going as I jsut threw stuff in as it got lower and that was probably a little too chaotic for quality control. No one complained, however.

David Wegman was around during those crazy during that era, and his presence added a nice bit of real life to the make believe. This "Olaug" bike boat is inspired by a real boat that was busted with some insane amount of hashish onboard in the early seventies. 

Cayman The Smuggler, outfitted as one of the South American militia memebers who were a key part of the drug trade, here with our smuggled rum. More photos after the jump.

One Bag To Rule Them All

The current VMan features a piece I wrote a piece about the this supremely useful and narcotically good looking bartender bag that Jim Meehan of PDT designed in collaboration with luxury leather goods outfit Moore & Giles. The above image is a pre-publication version of the page that featured my beloved Beefeater 24, some toasty Krug champagne and a French 75 adapted from the version found in Judge Jnr.'s 1927 cocktail book "Here’s How", updated and tailored to 24's subtle flavor profile by Meehan himself. Embury's homeboy Mark Buettler styled the drink for the shoot but, sadly, the drink and Buettler's first 'Cocktail Stylist' credit didn't make it into the final version of the page. This is a common scenario with the arc of magazine story production: copy and images mutate and evolve past the writer's original intent. Here's the original version of the page with the cocktail and the credit intact. Thanks, fellas. J.R.

FRENCH 75

1 oz. Beefeater 24 Gin

.5 oz. Lemon Juice

.5 oz. Simple Syrup

Krug Champagne 

Shake first 3 ingredients with ice and strain into a

chilled coupe

Top with Champagne

Garnish with a lemon twist

More Bars, More Places: Bacchanal, New Orleans

(We welcome a new writer, and friend, this week: Amanda Shuster.) It was a sultry midsummer night in New Orleans. My last night in town, I was on a reprieve from the chaotic, semi-corporate drunkfest that Tales of the Cocktail was morphing into. Out and about with two new friends: Mike Kobrin , a trumpet player [Edit. note: Mike is also the Web Editor WWOZ, our round the clock soundtrack in and out of New Orleans] who was introduced to me the night before in absentia by a mutual friend in New York and Jason Rowan, a writer and fellow drinks enthusiast, who was introduced to me by Mike. We’d been together for just a couple of hours, but in that time, it had become apparent we had a rare chemistry, sharing a comfortable camaraderie and easily playing off each other’s comic flare. In other words, we were laughing a lot.

After meeting up at a bar on Frenchman St. and getting a short tour of the Lower 9th Ward, Mike decided to bring us to his favorite out of the way wine bar called Bacchanal. The front is set up like a general store for wine, lots of inexpensive treats in racks amid baskets and hand-written notes.  Specials and wines by the glass are listed on a chalkboard behind the counter.  

 

Chilled wines are by the counter. We decided to get a whole bottle to share, and since it was such a hot, humid night, we wanted something flavorful, but refreshing. My eyes immediately found one of my very favorite bottles from Spanish Basque country (I have a real penchant for Spanish wines and until recently, I was the Spanish wine buyer for a retailer in NYC), Ameztoi Txakoina (pronounced Chalk-o-leena) Rubentis. The person working behind the counter mentioned that the wines would soon be scarce since the vineyards had recently been paved over, news that saddened me immensely! I have since tried to verify this, but have only been told that no one has it in supply anymore for any given reason, and the last bottles on shelves are rare and worth buying, 2008 being the last vintage. It was made in very limited quantity to begin with.

 

We took our precious bottle out back to the huge garden patio area, a pretty, remote spot that seems more fitting with Tuscany than the jazzy decadence of New Orleans. We were the sole customers. As we opened the bottle, we immediately resumed our easy repartee.  Our wine ended up being perfect for that night and moment. It’s made from a blend of Hondarribi Zuri and Hondarribi Belta, grapes from the Getaraiko Txakolina region on the Atlantic Coast of the Iberian Peninsula. A light, slightly fizzy, salmon pink rosé, with balanced acidity. The tiny bubbles don’t come on as a full attack the way some cheap sparklers do, but instead, add just the right amount of zing to the palate. Despite being so light in body, the flavors are full enough to make peace between white and red wine drinkers alike, with fresh, tart strawberry, citrus and faint cinnamon notes. So easy to drink, it seemed we’d polished off that bottle in mere minutes.

If you see this wine anywhere, just buy it! Recommended serving suggestion: anything you eat on a hot summer’s day, plus three great friends and a beautiful garden, away from all the hurries, worries and commotion. A.S.

Amanda Schuster works in the wine and spirits industry and also makes jewelry. In other words, she is a professional alcoholic with a blowtorch.

Bacchanal,

Ameztoi Txakoina Rubentis