Martini

Slick the vessel with a smear of dry vermouth. Add a bright green olive, a splash of Bombay Sapphire (which has been cooled to liquid nitrogen temperature in the coldest spot of my freezer), and drink.

In college, I never liked gin, mostly because it was cheap gin, reeking of juniper. After that, I would try a martini every five years or so. I was attracted to martinis the way young people of past generations have been drawn to tobacco: the allure of sophistication. Eventually I discovered the good stuff: Hendrick’s, Bombay Sapphire. Minimal juniper, lots of character.

Interesting is the history of the martini. It used to be a much sweeter, much more complicated drink, including such things as maraschino liqueur and sweet vermouth. The modern dry martini apparently found its start in Los Angeles — but even that involved some bitters and a twist of lime in addition to the traditional olive. Jump ahead to a more recent generation for the real deal. From Wiki,

Winston Churchill chose to forgo vermouth completely, saying that the perfect martini involved pouring a glass full of cold gin and looking at a bottle of vermouth. General Patton suggested pointing the gin bottle in the general direction of Italy. Alfred Hitchcock’s recipe called for five parts gin and “a quick glance at a bottle of vermouth.”

Maybe that’s one of the things I find so appealing about martinis: the connection to the past. My dad says my grandfather swigged an ounce of gin every night before bedtime. And as Churchill, Patton, and Hitchcock attest, is this not the driest of martinis?

So here’s the question for discussion: what’s your favorite cocktail, and how do you prepare it? Dry bones, you can play too. Surely you aren’t drinking milk all the time. What’s your pleasure — pink lemonade? Homemade punch?

D.

Live Blogging Bistro 110

I swear I chose this place at random . . . Here not two minutes and I’m sure this is the place we came to 12 years ago after our Boards. The roasted garlic is the giveaway. Most places overdo it and the garlic is burnt, nasty. Here, they get it right. The garlic is pale straw, mellow flavored, soft as warm brie.

So far, so good.

Here’s what I’m drinking: a French 75, which is Hendrick’s gin, simple syrup, lemon juice, twist of lemon, splash of champagne. Purists will note that Hendrick’s is supposed to be served with a slice of cucunber. But who cares, it’s good.

Funky pop euro music here. I like it.

Here’s what I ordered:

Confit de Canard pommes roties aux champignons, sauce Bordelaise a Phuile de truffes: Roasted duck confit leg with wild mushroom and potato ragout, Bordelaise sauce finished with truffle oil. Side of Angel Hair Onions.

Wine: Irony, a Monterey county Pinot Noir.

Time to eat.

(Here’s the photo from my cell phone. Can’t see much, eh?)

I’m back. Yup, this is bistro food: bold flavors, huge portions. My Irony isn’t standing up to the confit, but aside from that, I’m doing fine, thanks. Stuffed to the vallecula, in fact, so I dare not risk dessert.

Have to walk off the alcohol now.

I wish my family were with me, or my friends, or ideally both; but aside from that, this has been a great meal.

***

Back at the hotel now, and for once I got here without getting lost. Quite proud of that.

I walked a few blocks down Michigan, checked out the Apple store (where I logged on to Balls & Walnuts to leave a comment on yesterday’s post), decided it would take more hatred of Bill Gates than I presently possess to make me want to pay Apple’s prices for a notebook, kept walking, found some good chockies for Karen, figured by then the alcohol was out of my system and took a cab back to the Convention Center. I’ve learned at last that it’s far cheaper to get around with the hotel shuttles and cabs than to move my car from one parking garage to the other. Did that yesterday, and — OUCH. $36 for parking? Are you shitting me?

I’ve been reading Steve Martin’s memoir and enjoying it. The bit about Disneyland (where he worked for many years and learned his trade as a teenager) is fascinating. The Disneyland I knew had none of this color . . . I suspect Walt must have gotten wind and beat it out of the place. Or maybe I hung out at all the wrong places.

See ya tomorrow . . .

D.

Caipirinha

As usual, I couldn’t leave well enough alone; I had to modify the recipe. Instead of muddling big chunks of lime, I threw it all into a blender thinking it would kinda sorta come out like a Margarita. Nope, no go. It was all chunky, bitter, undrinkable. I suppose I could have filtered it and re-blended it with more ice, but then it would have been too dilute!

There must be a way to make a blended caipirinha. Here’s a thought: I could use lime zest, lime juice, rum, and ice. And maybe mix the zest in just a little bit at a time so as not to overdo it.

I’m tired tonight, so that’s all I’ve got for you: booze.

D.

Tacoma live blogging um sort of

Note to the wise: martini on empty stomach hits like wrecking ball. Can three slices of buttered sour dough bread save me? We’ll see.

I’m at the Sea Grill restaurant munching mussels in a saffron cream sauce. Yummy. I walked here, didn’t drive, so if I get a bit tipsy I’m only a risk to other pedestrians.

***

What possessed me to order crab? Where I live, we get probably the freshest (and cheapest) crab in the country. Tonight’s entree wasn’t bad, but it pains the son-of-a-Depression Era-father to know I could have had better, cheaper, at home. But dammit I had a yen for crab.

***

I’ve been walking off the martini and I’m feeling fine.

Tacoma on a Wednesday night: not lively. I found a couple of open Kwik E Marts and I went to the second one for my toothpaste and bottled water (yah, I’m one of those freaks who won’t drink tap water). Guy asked me, “Anything else?” and I said, “Yeah, got any floss?”

“Sure,” he said. “Really clean.”

. . . Which cracked me up.

“Single use. Ten cents a pack.” He added, “My wife’s idea. She’s a genius.”

So’s mine, but she never thought to sell dental floss ten cents a tiny pack.

***

Not only does this hotel offer a Pillow Menu, it also gives me a Spiritual Menu. I am not shittin’.

We are here to provide you with choices

• The Bhagavad Gita
• Book of Mormon
• Books on Buddhism
• The Holy Bible King James Version
• The Koran (various versions)
• New American Bible
• Tao Te Ching (various versions)
• The Torah (various versions)

Touch the “Help Me” button on your phone and we will bring up your book of faith.

Should I be obnoxious and ask for Darwin’s Origin of Species?

***

I’m going to draw a hot bath and read my book. Kate will be pleased to hear that I’m nearing the end of Judith Ivory’s Black Silk. This one didn’t grab me until about page 150, but now I’m convinced. There’s an unusual depth to these characters. Anyway, that’s it for now, folks.

D.

Best sushi ever

Karen and I know our sushi. We may not be the most knowledgeable sushiphiles out there, but we’re competent, okay?

Sam’s Sushi Bar & Grill in Ballard (a neighborhood north of Seattle) had some of the freshest sushi, biggest portions, and reasonable prices that we’ve ever seen.

And if that didn’t make much sense, let me add that they serve a terrific tall hot sake.

At that link (above), this negative review tickled me:

I think there are Chinese making Japanese food,Food is bad,Service was’nt good also!

This reminded me of my high school friend, Weyton.  He used to say, “Chinese make food that tastes good, Japanese makes food that looks good.” (He’s Chinese. Could you guess?) When I read that review, I imagined Weyton saying, “See? We even do sushi better than those Japanese.”

Protected Static: take your pick between this and Volterra. Next time we’re up, we’ll treat you & your fam. (We’d have done so this time around, except that Karen has been so wiped most of the time.)

BTW: The interviews are history, and now I’m waiting for the offers to roll in 🙂

D.

Coconapple Flanna Cotta

Now that I’ve mastered panna cotta, it’s time to mix things up a bit. With this recipe, I wanted to combine the best elements of flan and panna cotta, and give it some tropical zing, too.

You’ll need:

1 13.5 ounce can of coconut milk
About 2.5 cups of whole milk
1 package of granulated gelatin (about two teaspoons)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp dark rum (optional)
1 cup of granulated white sugar, divided
1/4 tsp salt
six ramekins

1. In a shallow bowl, warm 1/2 cup of the milk in the microwave until tepid. Sprinkle the gelatin over the milk. After 5 minutes, “flip” the gelatin layer with a fork so that the dry upper layer comes into contact with the milk. Don’t worry if it doesn’t flip well.

2. Caramelize 1/2 to 3/4 cup of sugar in a sauce pan. It helps to add a tablespoon or so of water during the heating process. Watch it carefully, stir as needed, and don’t let it burn. When the sugar has become a rich, amber to brown syrup, pour it into the ramekins.

This is way more sugar than you need to get the job done, but if there’s one thing I hate, it’s running out of caramel before I’ve come to the sixth ramekin.

3. Combine coconut milk, milk + gelatin mixture, vanilla, and rum (if you’re using it) in a 4-cup measure, and add enough milk to bring the volume to 3 cups. Pour this mixture into the sauce pan, which will still have a layer of caramel at the bottom. Add 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 tsp salt. Place this over a low heat and stir constantly until the sugar and gelatin dissolve and the mixture has come to a simmer — NOT a boil.

4. Pour through a sieve into the 4-cup measure (which at some point you’ve managed to rinse out), and then distribute the mixture to each of the ramekins.

5. Chill six hours. Before serving, run a paring knife around the inner edge of the ramekin. Invert onto a plate and serve with pineapple chunks. Et voila!

And now I shall field all of your foodie questions 🙂

D.