Food, Wine, Good (and Evil) Spirits

Old FashionedIt all started with a Napoleon. And a desire for a cocktail after dinner. The Napoleon, uneaten, and so taken away in a box from a late lunch at Petit Trois was the itch, scratching my brain. It’s eggy vanilla aroma permeates the car on the way home and a bottle of newly purchased Bulleit Rye clinks next to me. I get the vision of a vanilla driven rye cocktail sipped along with that Napoleon.

Ludo’s Napoleons aren’t delicate fine things with a slick of sweet white icing across the top. No, they’re robust and sturdy finished off with a perfect shard of bruléed confectioner’s sugar. They are so thick that I’ve never eaten one by cutting down a bite with my fork. Instead I pluck off the top layer of crunchy puff paste and the clinging pastry cream, which leaves another layer of the same to munch later open-face sandwich style. This is the life of the food obsessed.  Upon googling rye and vanilla I found Brandon at Kitchen Konfidence and  a recipe for an Old-Fashioned made with vanilla sugar. I always keep a jar of sugar studded with vanilla beans in the pantry, so his recipe was quick to put together.  Here’s my version. I’m making some vanilla syrup to keep in the fridge for the next one.

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"I think the increased number of 1920s themed parties caused the current economic crisis. There I said it." - Alexis Brodey

old-fashioned.jpgI love old timey things. I even love the term old timey. Whenever I hear it, everything turns into sepia tone and rag time music starts playing. Then my iPhone rings and I realize I need to update my blog and twitter. I'm happy I wasn't born in the 30's but I enjoy many things about it. Mainly the influx of bars that seem to embrace that old timey feel. Did Mad Men have something to do with this? Probably. I'll be the first to admit prior to watching Don Draper I never had an Old Fashioned. I now love Old Fashioneds. I even make a really good Old Fashioned.

Since I'm not the biggest drinker,  I never really want to visit a random Hollywood bar and order a gin and tonic that tastes generic. I tend to stick to very specific bars that do very specific things. Let’s say I want a tropical drink. Easy, I go to Tiki Ti in Los Feliz. The bar’s been open since 1961 and challenged Trader Vics for the best tiki bar ever (and won). Currently I’m really into bourbon. This led me to the great bar SeVen Grand on 7th and Grand downtown.

SeVen Grand is a mix between an old timey bar, a hunting lodge, a gentleman's club and a place where stockbrokers hang out after ruining peoples lives. They have over a hundred types of whiskey and really great bartenders. My favorite bartender is a guy who I refer to as "Last of the Mohicans" because he has an indie mohawk.

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jones2.jpgWhat could be better than to customize the label on your soda? Well, yeah, world peace, but in the meantime, Jones Soda, which my daughter Lena turned me on to, has done that. Right from the beginning.  In fact, they’ve gotten awards for their unique packaging and constantly changing labels, which are generated and submitted by their customers. Their attitude is clearly expressed by other product lines such as their energy drink: WhoopAss.  This season you can give the gift of Holiday Collectors Packs.  Be “thankful” Thanksgiving is over. They had Turkey and Gravy Flavor.  Look out Bernie Botts. 

 

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From the Huffington Post

hair_color_chart.jpgThey say the eyes are the window to a person's soul, but I disagree. I'm pretty sure it's the hair. Seriously.

For the sake of this article, I'm going to go ahead and admit that I judge people, and I judge them by their hair. I'm not saying everyone does this, I'm saying I do this, and I'll go ahead and tell you why.

You can judge a person on their shoes (Louboutins or Converse?), or what they wear (Armani or Anthropologie?), and that's fine. And hey, you'll probably get somewhere with that, maybe by going a little deeper and analyzing how they wear something: Does she mix Versace with vintage? Are her jeans skinny or flared? And just how flared and how expensively distressed?

All important factors. They might tell you how much money (or credit card debt) she has and if she lives on 73rd or somewhere between Bedford and Lorimer, but what they don't tell you is how much fun she'll be three-beers-deep on a girl's night out. What will? Her hair.

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cherries.jpgThere are three types of people in this world: those that like cherries, those that like cherry-flavored, and those that like neither (or both, which makes this category 4 I suppose).  I’m wedged into the latter but have slowly learned to appreciate the seasonal gift of fresh cherries.

Please don’t get me wrong. There are no agendas, no personal allergic antedotes, nothing of the sort. Growing up fresh cherries weren’t a part of my family menu. To us, cherries were the gloopy, glossy globes that didn’t need a cherry pitter but a can opener. Something tells me that’s not quite the way Mother Nature intended them to be enjoyed but purely an act out of mankind’s thifty desire to preserve their short season.

It’s only been the past few years that I’ve learned to have my way with fresh cherries in the kitchen and that has resulted in a slight cherry crush. I don’t want to eat cherry pie or clafoutis unless you can convince me you made it yourself and please for the love of god keep any fauxcherryanything far away from me. That includes Luden’s.

Still, I can’t help but get a teensy bit excited when I see cherries.

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