Posted by Cameron on 11.30.06 11:56 PM
“When I’m–er–concentrating, I never have more than one drink before dinner. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made.”
–James Bond, Casino Royale by Ian Fleming
Was ever a character from popular literature more poorly served by Hollywood than James Bond? We all know the silver screen buffoonery: arch, cartoonish cardboard cutouts with sapphire blue eyes. Hit the tape marks and luxuriate in the JiggleVision. Dress like a peacock, shake the gadgets. Secret agent? Bah. This is a man so monomaniacal in his habits that even his enemies know his drink preference.
But on the page, Ian Fleming’s international spy is a different man. He prefers a low profile. He is thoughtful and specific, driven by both personal inclination and professional urgency. He is a hopeless romantic and desperately human. Over the course of the original thirteen novels and a few short stories, Bond falls deeply in love, again and again, in the face of brutal heartbreak. He takes great pains to remain anonymous and alive in a dangerous trade, and he is intimately, passionately connected with the day-to-day business of living.
“You must forgive me,” he said. “I take a ridiculous pleasure in what I eat and drink. It comes partly from being a bachelor, but mostly from a habit of taking a lot of trouble over details. It’s very pernickety and old-maidish really, but then when I’m working I generally have to eat my meals alone and it makes them more interesting when one takes trouble.”
“Shaken, not stirred,” marketing-friendly bull***t be damned. Bond drinks whatever is appropriate, local, and good. In Turkey, it’s Kavaklidere, “a rich coarse burgundy like any other Balkan wine”. In the Caribbean: gin, tonic and lime (you can take the Boy out of the Empire…). Champagne? Just watch the man go. And when the vodka comes out, our man James drops pepper on top, for practical and aesthetic reasons:
‘It’s a trick the Russians taught me that time you attached me to the Embassy in Moscow,’ apologized Bond. ‘There’s often quite a lot of fusel oil on the surface of this stuff –at least there used to be when it was badly distilled. Poisonous. In Russia, where you get a lot of bath-tub liquor, it’s an understood thing to sprinkle a little pepper in your glass. It takes the fusel oil to the bottom. I got to like the taste and now it’s a habit. But I shouldn’t have insulted the club Wolfschmidt,’ he added with a grin.
But there’s only one drink that Bond invented, and it’s not the one you might think. The medium-dry vodka martini may have launched a thousand ships, but the Vesper, introduced in Casino Royale, is the original–really, the only–Bond drink. Not surprisingly, it’s a much more interesting cocktail:
“A dry Martini,” he said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.”
“Oui, Monseiur.”
“Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it?”
In The Book of Bond, Kingsley Amis argues that the mixture is a mistake, as that quantity of Kina Lillet would have made the cocktail undrinkably bitter. We will never know for sure, as the formula of Lillet was changed in 1986. Happily, the new Lillet works like a charm.
Made with one “measure” equaling one ounce, the Vesper is indeed a large, strong, cold cocktail. The vodka takes the edge off the gin and contributes a bit of sweetness which is reinforced by the Lillet and the lemon.
“This drink’s my own invention. I’m going to patent it when I can think of a good name.”
As might be expected, James can only find a bad one. This drink’s name comes from Vesper Lynd, a female spy who Bond initially ignores but then falls in love with. Vesper turns out to be a double-agent working for both the Russians and the British while in France. It’s a combination that echoes the ingredients of the cocktail that eventually bears her name: vodka, gin, and vermouth.
The Vesper
3 ounces gin
1 ounce vodka
1/2 ounce Lillet
Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass (or champagne coupe, if you have one). Garnish with a large, thin slice of lemon peel. Bet large. Tip the chef de partie. Flirt with Moneypenny. Get out before they use the laser.
Drink of the Week, drinks, literary, recipes
10 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.28.06 8:08 AM
Tami of Running with Tweezers posted a gorgeous roasted eggplant soup recipe in honor of her mother, and invited her blog-buddies to post about their favorite soups. With a head of cauliflower in the fridge, a brisk chill in the air, and my own parents’ anniversary dinner to cook, I knew exactly which soup to share.
I first made a variation on this soup last winter as one of the last few Soup of the Fortnight installments. But it bears repeating, because although it’s based on an Epicurious recipe, you know I can’t make anything without a little (or a lot) of tinkering. Plus, it’s such a luxurious soup, and it goes so well with a wide variety of sandwiches and salads to make a satisfying supper — you might never guess how easy it is to make simply by tasting it.
Here’s my adapted recipe, perfect for a chilly evening:
Blue Cheese Cauliflower Soup
1 (1-pound) head cauliflower, cut into small florets
1/4 cup butter
1 medium onion, chopped
3/4 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup all purpose flour
3 cups chicken broth
1 cup milk, or more as needed
3 ounces Gorgonzola (or other mild blue cheese), crumbled
Ground white pepper, to taste
In a medium pot of boiling water, blanch 1 cup of the nicest-looking cauliflower florets until just tender, about 2 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water, and set aside.
In a large, heavy saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, and remaining cauliflower. Cover the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until the onions are tender, not brown — about 8 minutes.
Add flour and cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the chicken broth and 1 cup of milk, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and cover partially. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are tender and soup thickens — about 20 minutes.
Using an immersion blender, puree the soup until smooth. (If using a traditional blender, puree in two batches.) Thin with additional milk, if desired. Gradually add the cheese, stirring until melted. Season with salt and white pepper, to taste.
Ladle soup into bowl, and garnish with the reserved cauliflower. Serves 4.
cooking, family, other blogs, recipes, Soup o' the Fortnight
5 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.27.06 6:04 PM
A faithful MWD reader, keeping an eye on my Flickr set last week, sent me an email: “I can’t believe anyone other than my Mom is still making grasshopper pie!”
Well, believe it, Grasshopper! Knowing that Cameron and I aren’t big fans of pumpkin pies, Mom asked what we wanted for Thanksgiving dessert, and this old favorite was the first thing that popped into my head. I know it was my “birthday cake” on more than one occasion growing up, and it’s maintained its place in the pastry pantheon over the years. And I’m sure I’m not alone in my love of this cookie-crusted, nuclear-green pile o’ fluff…
A few years ago, we rented a big house on Whidbey Island with a gaggle of friends, and I made a trio of pies for a Thanksgiving dinner: A gorgeous wild-blackberry pie with an all-butter lattice-top crust, a silky pumpkin custard in a leaf-lard shell, and a homely ol’ Grasshopper Pie.
You know where this is going, don’t you?
Sure enough, the Grasshopper was the hit of the dessert table, as a dozen thirty-somethings waxed nostalgic about the beloved dessert of their childhood.
Last year, I made the pie using Martha Stewart’s recipe. It was good — maybe even better than the original — but the added effort took some of the charm out of dessert. Part of this pie’s charm, at least for lazy ol’ me, lies firmly in its simplicity, its reliance on grocery-store ingredients, and its thoroughly un-chic appearance.
Since it’s minty and green, Grasshopper Pie makes a nice Christmas dessert. Or, you know, my birthday’s not too far off…
Grasshopper Pie
16 Oreo cookies*, crushed fine
2 T butter, melted
1/2 cup milk
24 marshmallows (full size, not minis)
1/2 pint whipping cream
4 T creme de menthe
2 T creme de cacao
Chocolate curls or chocolate jimmies, for garnish
Mix butter into cookie crumbs and press evenly onto the bottom and sides of an 8-inch pie plate; refrigerate to set.
Heat the milk to a simmer in a large saucepan, then reduce heat to low and add marshmallows. Stir until all marshmallows melt. Cool the mixture to room temperature, then refrigerate.
When fully cool, beat the melted marshmallows with a hand mixer until fluffy, adding the creme de menthe and creme de cacao. In a separate bowl, beat the whipping cream to medium peaks, then fold whipped cream into the marshmallow mixture.
Pour filling into prepared crust. Trim with chocolate shavings or jimmies, or extra cookie crumbs. Freeze overnight, or at least 8 hours, before serving.
*If you want to get all fancy, replace the crust ingredients with 1/2 package Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers, crushed fine, and 4 T melted butter.
dessert, family, holidays & occasions, recipes
4 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.24.06 8:25 AM
When plotting out this week’s pre-Thanksgiving meals, I decided that it had been too long since we’d enjoyed any home-cooked Mexican treats. And because I’ve already renewed the Doña Tomás cookbook three times at the library (no más renewals for me), I wanted to try one more recipe out of it.
I picked out a chicken taco recipe — mostly on the strength of its interesting-sounding salsa — and happened upon a recipe for Michelada, a beer-based concoction, which I added to the menu.
Once I get the week’s dinners sussed out, I shuffle them around, matching each meal’s complexity to the days of the week that make the most sense. Since we were facing a short week with Thanksiving travel planned, I didn’t have a lot of wiggle room. But, consulting my trust Rancho Gordo calendar, I noticed that Tuesday, 11/20, was the anniversary of the Mexican Revolution. Perfecto!
When I went downstairs to copy the recipes out of the cookbook, imagine my amusement to find this snippet in the Michelada header notes:
Without General Don Augusto Michel, there would have been no Mexican Revolution, and no such drink as the Michelada. Actually the revolution probably would’ve still taken place, but we definitely would have been deprived of this unique libation… which is not really a beer, not really a cocktail.
And, at least anecdotally, they appear to be correct… at least about the drink’s legendary namesake. Here’s another snippet from a Mexican food distributor‘s site:
This traditional Mexican drink has been around since the days of the Mexican Revolution. A revolutionary general from San Luis Potosi named Don Augusto Michel used to visit a restaurant and he liked to drink his beer in a very unusual way. In a glass with ice, he poured lime, salt, soy sauce, pepper and picante. This speciality soon turned into a popular drink, making the restaurant famous for it. Because of that, the owner decided to baptize this speciality in honor of his creator.
Alas, I can’t seem to find any reliable references tying Don Augusto Michel to the Mexican Revolution, but I never let the truth stand in the way of a good drinking tale. So, here’s to Don Augusto’s possibly fictitious legacy, and to happy coincidence. ¡Viva la revolucÃon!
Michelada estilo Doña Tomás
coarse salt
juice of 1 lime
1-2 drops habanero hot sauce (or to taste)
1 dash Worcestershire sauce
1 pinch kosher salt
1 bottle Negro Modelo (or other dark Mexican beer)
1 lime slice, for garnish
Salt the rim of a tall glass, and fill with ice. Stir in the lime juice, hot sauce, worcestershire sauce, and salt. Pour in the beer and garnish with a lime.
beer, cookbooks, Drink of the Week, drinks, Mexican, recipes
3 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.17.06 6:39 AM
Fancy seasonal cocktails with convoluted ingredient lists can be lovely if you’re entertaining at home, but when you’re limited to the contents of a friend’s or relative’s liquor cabinet, it’s better to be prepared for elegant compromise.
This cocktail classic’s easily made with supermarket ingredients — or even the contents of your hotel minibar, should it come to that. And what’s more perfect for Thanksgiving than cranberries?
The Cape Codder
1-1/2 oz. vodka
3 oz. cranberry juice, or to taste
lime, for garnish
Combine vodka and juice in an ice-filled highball or old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a lime wedge and/or a few reydrated cranberries, for a seasonal touch.
Drink of the Week, drinks, holidays & occasions, recipes
5 Comments »
Posted by Cameron on 11.10.06 6:48 AM
You can pick your friends—the saying goes—and you can pick your…um… poison, but you can’t pick your family. Happily, I have been blessed many times over through both blood and marriage. And so, while this Drink of the Week post is inspired by Mixology Monday #9 (bitters), it is dedicated to my brother-in-law Matt, who introduced me to a delightfully civilized drink: The Manhattan.
I had always been suspicious of The Manhattan, put off by crappy bourbon, unpredictable proportions, and those nasty, nuclear pink, jarred maraschino cherries that people actually eat instead of sticking on top of car antennas, where they belong.
But one night during a holiday visit many years ago, Matt commandeered the cocktail shaker and went to work with sweet vermouth, Angostura bitters, and Wild Turkey. I think. I’m a little blurry on the precise brand of bourbon, probably because we knocked off most of a bottle of whatever it was over the course of a gregarious evening.
In any case, my prejudice melted, and if I never sought The Manhattan out, neither did I avoid its presence. Those awful cherries, though. Ugh. Not a chance.
The next stage in my journey came this fall, when Murray of the Zig Zag Cafe promised us that if we brought a bottle of Carpano Antica vermouth on our next trip to Seattle, we’d be rewarded. When Murray speaks on things of a spiritous nature, my friends, I listen. Bottle in hand, we wafted in out of the northern night to be greeted by a Manhattan made with Carpano Antica, Rittenhouse bonded rye, and Bitter Truth bitters. Magic.
Since then, I (heart) Manhattan. It’s a drink that rewards customization with different ingredient styles and (carefully!) proportions. You’ll find recipes that recommend anywhere from one-half to two ounces of vermouth for two ounces of bourbon or rye. These days, I feel like anything less than a 2:1 ratio tastes like a shot, not a cocktail, but as I have written before, I am pigheaded, uncultured, and have displayed questionable drink-ordering skills.
The recipe below produces a very smooth drink, and is doubly appropriate for this particular MxMo, as it contains two bitter ingredients: orange bitters and Carpano Antica. The Bulleit bourbon lends body without calling attention to itself, and the fruitiness of the orange bitters (of which the Hermes is a difficult-to-find but excellent example) balances the extra bite of the Carpano Antica, which you could replace with regular sweet vermouth for increased mellitude. If you need fruit, soak dried Bing cherries overnight in whatever suits your fancy. I used brandy and…POW! Drunken Cherries.
Cheers, Matt! (And happy 5th Anniversary to you and P…)
Old Manhattan
2 oz. Bulleit bourbon
1-1/4 oz. Carpano Antica vermouth
2 dashes Hermes orange bitters
Stir with ice. Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with a Drunken Cherry.
Drink of the Week, drinks, family, Mixology Monday, other blogs, recipes
13 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.03.06 8:01 AM
This one’s a nod to this weekend’s destination: the City of Angels…
The Los Angeles Cocktail
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. sugar
1 egg
1-1/2 oz. rye (or bourbon)
1/4 oz. sweet vermouth
Shake with ice, and strain into a cocktail glass.
Drink of the Week, recipes, SoCal, travel
1 Comment »
Posted by Anita on 11.01.06 8:58 PM
As careful readers may have noticed, the last couple of weeks have been filled with dishes that indulge my dad’s food cravings. Since Pops’ favorites lean heavily toward the foods of his youth, finding a suitable entry for Retro Recipe Challenge #4 hasn’t proven terribly difficult. In fact, the hardest part has been choosing among this week’s roster of golden oldies.
Given the RRC4 theme, Fall Favorites, a clear front-runner emerged. Pops requested chicken & dumplings, and the recipe Mom uses dates from at least the early 1970s. Alas, the exact source is lost to the sands of time, but one look at the clipping and you can’t miss that 70s women’s magazine vibe — complete with a Kraft Squeez-a-Snak ad on the back!
Amazingly, we resisted the urge to tinker with the recipe; we even used the bouillion cubes. But the veggies completely disintegrated, so Mom simmered up some extra carrots and celery, and added them after thickening the sauce. The dumplings were surprisingly good; I’m not sure if I’d make the chicken again, though. The sauce definitely reminded me of Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup!
Oh, and lest I forget: It was served with a Waldorf salad… how’s that for old school?!
Chicken and Dumplings
Chickens are still a good buy. Stretch the flavor and servings per chicken with this old-fashioned dish.
3-pound broiler-fryer, cut up
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
2 celery stalks
1 onion, sliced
2 carrots, coarsely chopped
1 sprig parsley
1 bay leaf
2 chicken bouillion cubes
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup flour
2 egg yolks, beaten
Parsley Dumplings (recipe follows)
Put chicken in a kettle or Dutch oven and cover with boiling water. Add salt, pepper, celery, onion, carrots, parsley, bay leaf, and bouillion. Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer 1-1/4 hours, or until chicken is tender. Remove chicken from liquid, and when cool enough to handle, remove meat from bones. Measure liquid and if more than 4 cups, boil down to 4 cups. Blend milk and flour, and gradually add a little hot [cooking] liquid to milk [mixture], then stir milk [mixture] into remaining hot [cooking] liquid and cook, stirring, until thickened. With spoon, gradually beat in egg yolks. Put chicken back in broth. Drop dumpling batter by tablespoonfuls [sic] into bubbling broth. Cook, uncovered, 10 minutes. Cover and cook 10 minutes longer. Makes 4-6 servings.
Parsley Dumplings
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. each sugar, salt, and celery seed
1 T chopped parsley
1/2 cup milk
Mix together flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, celery seed and parsley. With fork, stir in milk until just moistened.
cooking, family, magazines, other blogs, recipes
2 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.01.06 7:30 AM
Amid the press flurry surrounding the 75th Anniversary Joy of Cooking‘s debut, the NY Times published a nicely written piece about other classic cookbooks that stand the test of time. I haven’t ever used any of the books they mentioned, but the story did put me in mind of the classics that I do use.
Around our house, the go-to vintage book — in addition to a 1961 edition of Joy and my grandma’s 1940s-era Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook — is The Los Angeles Times California Cookbook, published in 1981. I cooked out of my mom’s copy when I lived at home, and — many years later — she gifted me with a copy.
I use the California Cookbook at least once a month, mostly for recipes that are a little too West Coast-centric for Joy and the other oldies, but too old-fashioned or boring for Epicurious. Browsing through this collection of 650+ recipes from the paper’s archives, it doesn’t take long to stumble across dishes from one-time celebrities — Mahalia Jackson, Lawrence Welk, Polly Bergen — and popular restaurants of yore. (Remember The Velvet Turtle? The Hungry Tiger?) Each recipe has a little piece of marginalia that introduces its source, adding a bit of backstory and flair.
Of all the dog-eared pages in my copy, this recipe’s the one I like best. The green pepper in the sauce makes it very different from my usual recipe for marinara, but that’s one of the reasons I like it.
Little Joe’s Meatballs
1 pound ground beef
1/2 pound ground pork
1/2 pound ground veal
1 cup chopped onions
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 cup grated Parmesan
1 cup fine dry breadcrumbs
4 eggs
1/4 cup chopped parsley
pinch of oregano
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
—
1/4 cup oil, for frying
Spaghetti Sauce (following recipe)
Combine all ingredients and mix well. Form into 1-1/2-inch balls. Heat oil in a large skillet, and add meatballs. Cook until browned, then drain. Add meatballs to spaghetti sauce during last 30 minutes of cooking.
Spaghetti Sauce
1 medium onion, minced
2 T minced green pepper
1 stalk celery, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
3 T oil
1 can (1# 12oz) whole tomatoes, chopped
1 can (1# 12oz) tomato puree
1 T crushed dried basil
1 tsp. crushed dried oregano
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup dry red wine
1 cup water
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
2 T grated Parmesan
Cook onion, green pepper, celery, and garlic in oil until tender. Add tomatoes and their liquid, tomato puree, and herbs, and simmer 1 hour, stirring often. Add wine, water, salt and pepper, and simmer 30 minutes. Add meatballs, and simmer 30 minutes more. If sauce is too thick, add more water. When sauce is cooked, add cheese and mix well. Serve over spaghetti.
cookbooks, family, Italian, recipes
5 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 10.29.06 5:00 PM
Those of you who visit (or live in) Los Angeles have probably driven past one of the three Clearman’s North Woods Inn restaurants. They’re pretty hard to miss, looking for all the world like a giant log cabin, complete with “snow” on the roof and “icicles” hanging from the eaves. Inside, the rustique effect continues with stained-glass lamps, taxidermy specimens, and bordello-style “art” on the walls.
Once upon a time — in fact, until quite recently — the cocktail waitresses even dressed up in skimpy frontier barmaid costumes, complete with red-plaid shrugs and miniskirts short enough to show off their frilly underpants. The waiters still wear lumberjack outfits right out of Monty Python, with red-plaid vests, black pants, and arm garters. (No hats with ear flaps, alas.)
My mom and dad have been going to Clearman’s for more than 40 years, since before they were married. When we sisters were kids, it was one of the first nice-ish restaurants we ever went to. As you might expect from the decor, the menu runs the gamut from steak to steak, with a few minor detours into fried chicken and kabobs. Before your main course arrives, you always get a pair of salads — a red cabbage slaw and iceberg with blue cheese dressing — and artery-clogging cheesetoast, all served family style. And, of course, every steak comes with a baked potato as big as your head, groaning with fixin’s.
My middle sister’s the only family member who lives in Southern California these days, so our visits to Clearman’s are growing fewer and farther between. Truth be told, I don’t think the food’s as good as it once was. But we keep going, mostly because it’s a sentimental favorite… and probably also because you’ve got to love a place with signs in the bar insisting that you throw your peanut shells on the floor. We’re obviously not the only family that maintains a soft spot for the place, given that they sell their cheesetoast spread in almost every supermarket south of Santa Barbara.
Dad mentioned last week that he wanted us to make Clearman’s-inspired red-cabbage slaw for dinner over the weekend, and we happily obliged. We went whole hog (or is that cow?) by adding — you guessed it — steaks, potatoes, and iceberg lettuce with bleu cheese dressing to the menu. We hunted the local markets for the cheese spread, but came up empty.
When we told Dad about our fruitless search, it took him about 10 seconds to find a recipe for the stuff online. (You now know where I inherited my strong Google-fu from.) I whipped up a quarter-batch, Mom slathered it on some sliced sourdough bread, and we popped it under the broiler. The end result wasn’t bad — in fact, made with butter instead of the standard margarine, I think I like it even better than the original.
The red-cabbage slaw recipe comes from the L.A. Times, and we’ve made it regularly over the years. It’s perfectly fine on its own, but it’s even better mixed up with iceberg and blue-cheese salad.
“Just Like North Woods Inn’s” Red Cabbage Slaw
1/2 head red cabbage
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup + 1T red wine vinegar
3T sugar
4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. seasoned salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1/4 tsp. onion powder
Shred cabbage irregularly, with some coarse and some fine shreds. Combine other ingredients in a bowl (or shake together in a jar or bottle) and pour over the cabbage. Mix well and let stand, refrigerated, for at least a few hours, or over night.
Makes 6-8 servings.
family, meat, recipes, restaurants, SoCal
10 Comments »
