Not poetry, but still...

And then, of course, there's James Thurber, one of my favorite writers:

"One martini is all right. Two are too many, and three are not enough."

Feel free to post more drinking quotes in the comments section.

More Martini Poetry

Here's another, this time the famous one by Dorothy Parker:

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
After four I'm under my host.

She must have been invited to a lot of parties.

Anybody have any other cocktail poetry?

Cocktail Poetry:

Here's a nice bit from Ogden Nash:

There is something about a Martini,
A tingle remarkably pleasant;
A yellow, a mellow Martini;
I wish that I had one at present.
There is something about a Martini,
Ere the dining and dancing begin,
And to tell you the truth,
It is not the vermouth--
I think that perhaps it's the gin.

Personally, I like the vermouth too, but the man does have a point...

"Dept. of Things That Happen Far More Often Than You Can Possibly Imagine:"

Guest: “I’d like a Bud please.”

Cocktail Warrior: “I’m sorry, we don’t carry Budweiser.” [pointing to the beers displayed on the back wall] “But we do have Heineken, Amstel Light, Peroni, New Amsterdam, and Miller Lite.”

Guest: “You don’t have Bud?

CW: “No, we have Heineken, Amstel Light, Peroni, New Amsterdam, and Miller Lite.”

Guest: “Damn, I really wanted a Bud.”

CW: “We have Heineken, Amstel Light, Peroni, New Amsterdam, and Miller Lite.”

Guest: “You sure you don’t have any Bud back there?”

CW: “We have Heineken, Amstel Light, Peroni, New Amsterdam, and Miller Lite.”

Guest: “Oh.” [pause] “Can you run those by me again?”

CW: “We have Heineken, Amstel Light, Peroni, New Amsterdam, and Miller Lite.”

Guest: “Okay, just gimme a Beck’s.”

CW: [collapses]

Elderflower White Cosmo

From the New York Times last Sunday:

2ounces Snow Queen vodka
1 ounce St.-Germain elderflower liqueur
½ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
1ounce white cranberry juice
1orchid or edible flower, for garnish.
1. Shake the liquid ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice and strain into a chilled martini glass.
2. Add the garnish and serve.
Yield: 1 serving.
Note: For the garnish, freeze the flower in an ice tray. Fill the tray halfway with water, freeze, and add the flower. Fill completely with water and freeze again. (Spherical ice trays, necessary to replicate Daniel’s large ice ball, are available at www.momastore.org and other online retailers. You can also just float an unfrozen flower in the drink.)

I've never had elderflower liqueur, so if anyone can fill me in on what this might be like, I'd appreciate it.

Apparently it's being promoted as "the sexiest cocktail ever." I've never thought of any cosmo as sexy, so that must be one hell of a liqueur and garnish.

Olive or Twist

I really like this article. It has musings about cocktails, their history, and even art.

http://www.artsjournal.com/outthere/2007/09/olive_or_twist.html

Though there's a bit of hyperbole, I particularly agree with this:

I wish I could see the transformed face of the lucky soul who lifted the first martini. Of course, one of the reasons the martini thrives (gin, not vodka!) is that, as I've written before, the first glacial sip is always a revelation, the second a verification.

And I think he has a good perspective on the whole cocktail phenomenon when it's at its best :

Just like any other art form, a bad cocktail leaves one shaken, while a great cocktail leaves one stirred.

Nice writing, too. Take a look.

Bar & Restaurant Glossary

Shooter (1) – n. A small drink, usually high in alcohol content, which is thrown down the throat and swallowed quickly. [Also, "shot".]

Shooter (2) – n. A man, usually wearing a shiny suit and half-smoked glasses, who points at people and fires his index finger like a gun instead of saying “Hello” or “Yes”. Usually accompanies said gesture with a wink. Clicking noise out the side of the mouth is optional. Often travels with the female of the species, pressnailonus aquanetus.

Scent of a Woman!!

I suppose the Apocalypse is just around the corner:

Demeter Fragrance Library has created a cologne intended to smell like the Cosmopolitan cocktail.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cosmopolitan_(cocktail)

Oy.

The Pegu Club Cocktail, cont’d: Double, Double, Toil & Trouble

So I took the Pegu for a test drive at work the other night. No one there had ever heard of it. It’s amazing that an old classic drink like this doesn’t have more of a following, especially now that the Pegu Club has opened up here in NYC during the Cocktail Insurgence. It’s perfect for hot muggy days.

Alas, we don’t carry orange bitters, only Angostura. The bitters revival hasn’t reached all that many places yet; I’ll have to find some on my own (can’t wait to taste the difference). So I made one with Bombay Sapphire and two dashes of the Angostura and it was still terrific. Proudly, I turned to my curious partners and offered them each a sip, hoping to have found others who would spread the word. Crockett declined, saying she doesn’t like gin; too bitter. I think she’d seen me put in the Angostura and just decided Hey, this ain’t gonna happen. So I turned to Lefty and he said sure. He loved it (wise bloody man) and, as an alternative to some of our “permanent specials”, he was definitely going to suggest it to our regulars who had come by on a very hot and muggy evening.

Unfortunately, I had put it down right by his fruit tray just as three women walked up to him to order a round. These ladies were the classic bartender’s nightmare. They had no idea what they wanted, thought they were the only customers in the place, and insisted on having everything (and I mean everything) on and around the bar explained to them in detail. It was like they’d never been out of the house before. And then what happened? They saw the Pegu sitting right in front of them, waving at them merrily. “What’s that?” one asked, and it just went all to hell from there. The three witches from Macbeth were suddenly controlling our destinies.

Of course they want to try it. Lefty is a very accommodating guy, so he makes one for them to taste and starts to move on to the next customer while they make up their minds. Of course The Weird Sisters won’t let him go and immediately call him back. “Can you add a little of this?” Okay, he says. He really is a nice guy and gives very good service.

I’m sure you’ve already figured out the whole story by now. Lay on, MacDuff:

“I’d like it with some of this?” asks the First Witch.

“I’d like another, but with less of that,” says the Second Witch.

“Two less cubes, I” says the Third.

All. “Fair is fowl and fowl is fair
Don’t let the barman come up for air.”

Of course each lady has her own problem with the drink, and of course each then doesn’t like her own suggestion but blames Lefty for it even though he’d made it exactly the way she’d asked for it. Lefty is making drink after drink trying to please the Weird Sisters and pretty soon he’s ready to tear his hair out. Of course, I love it all until I realize the guests are starting to stack up behind them and I’m going to have to pick up the slack. Of course the ladies move away, clucking happily over their drinks (Lefty is really good; he never let on what he was thinking). Of course they left him a buck.

So now Lefty hates the Pegu and considers it the most feared drink in the manual, The Cocktail Not Of Woman Born. I’ll have to popularize it on my own.

Crockett, who didn’t want us to make the damned thing in the first place, laughed her ass off.

Restaurant Specialty: The Pear-Ginger Martini

Take a look: Only a few days on the World-Wide Web and I’ve already got my first two comments, one for each post. Thank you for your input, gentlemen. I’m sorry I didn’t reply right away, but I was on my way out the door when I saw them.

Well, obviously a celebration was in order, so I took my girlfriend, the Champagne Vixen, out for a fine dinner at the Mermaid Inn down on 2nd Avenue, and a very tasty dinner it was. However, I must say that the pre-meal libation left a little to be desired. The Vixen had a glass of Pinot Blanc (very tasty) while your Warrior ordered from the drinks menu. My pear-ginger martini arrived looking cool & delicious but lacking somewhat in the flavor department. Described as being made with Grey Goose La Poire, some kind of cognac, & ginger beer, if I recall correctly, I could definitely get the pear, but barely a hint of the ginger. There was a touch of the flavor, but absolutely none of the heat. I’m a big ginger fan, so I was quite disappointed and switched to wine soon afterwards (I tried to steal the Vixen’s, but she’s too smart for me; she doesn’t like pears, so I was safe from any scheming on her part).

So I had the cod and she had the skate. As always at the Inn, it was delicious, and our celebration was a worthy one.

The Pegu Club Cocktail

Here’s a quick suggestion for a really refreshing cocktail to cool you off. It’s called a “Pegu Club” cocktail, or just a Pegu, and it’s very simple:

1.5 ounces gin
1/2 ounce Cointreau
3/4 ounce fresh lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters


Shake like hell in a cocktail shaker to really meld the juice with the booze and get it ice cold, then strain it into a martini glass (notice it’s not called a “Pegu Martini” or a “Pegini” or any other such nonsense just because it’s in a martini glass. More on that pet peeve another day). Garnish it with lime wheel.

Interestingly, it tastes like a really nice grapefruit juice cocktail, though much smoother and not bitter. I’m not sure why; it must be the gin. Anyway, it’s very tasty and a great way to cool off if you feel like something a little unusual instead of a beer or gin & tonic. I haven’t had a chance to investigate how it varies with different types of gin. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and do a little research this week. Heh-heh...

Tommy, the Old Man, and the Belvedere Vodka House

If you look at a bottle of Belvedere, you’ll see that it’s one of those liquors (almost all of them vodkas) where they put a nice picture not on the label but directly onto the bottle. In fact, it’s on the back of the bottle, and you see it through a kind of a window through the front. Van Gogh vodka does this too, and I think a few others as well. It’s very attractive, but to really see the picture well you have to hold it up at eye-level, otherwise the frosting on the rest of the bottle blocks it out. Take a look and you’ll see what I mean. Belvedere’s picture is of a big house, almost Gone-With-the-Wind-like, and the blurb on the back implies that it’s the Polish Presidential Palace. It’s pretty cool looking. The website says, “As Poland is widely recognized as the birthplace of vodka [I hadn’t known that; I had always thought it was the Russians who did it], it is fitting that Belvedere is named after the Belvedere Palace, formerly home to Polish royalty and presidents. Today, Belvedere Vodka offers a luxury experience to a broad international audience of vodka enthusiasts and connoisseurs.” (http://www.belvederevodka.com/main.php) Well, I’m not sure about that, but it really is a nice picture. Take a look sometime and you’ll see.

Anyway, I used to hang out in this place in Hell’s Kitchen. There was a guy there named Tommy, about fifty, who always had on a long overcoat and a newsboy cap (one of those pie-shaped, eight-piece jobs) even if he was wearing a suit and it was ninety degrees out. Tommy was a writer and a quiet drinker; he really didn’t say much, but he was incredibly bright and quite funny. He had some degree of success as a writer, but like any good bar friendship we didn’t talk much about work so I never did find out what it was he had published. It might have been a million-seller, but we didn’t talk about that stuff. Sorry.

Anyway, one night Tommy told this little story: He was sitting at the bar of one of his other watering holes, minding his own business as usual. Next to him was the Old Man. He’s seen the Old Man a million times but he doesn’t know anything about him because they’ve never talked to each other, not even once. This guy was so quiet he made Tommy seem like a chatterbox. He was the type who would stare into the bottom of his glass for the whole night, lost in his own world, thinking about Lord Knows What, and was happy to be that way. He would've fit right in in a pub on the Dingle Peninsula in western Ireland back in the seventies. In a way, he could have been Tommy père, except that he wasn’t a writer and probably wasn’t nearly as funny.

So they sat right next to each other for a couple of hours, drinking away and not saying a word. The Belvedere bottle is sitting on the back bar straight across from Old Man’s face. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Old Man mumbles, “Time to go.” But he doesn’t move. Tommy, startled (and that’s saying something), looks at him and waits for elaboration. “There’s people movin’ around in the Belvedere House,” declares the Old Man. He clambers off his stool, puts on his jacket, and stumbles out into the New York night. Tommy, mystified, is left staring at the vodka bottles and wondering if he's about to have a Close Encounters experience.

After Tommy told that story, it became a catch-phrase around the joint:

“Gotta go.”

“They movin’ around in the Belvedere house?”

“Yup.”

Or,

“Damn. [pause] Belvedere house.”

“Okay, see ya later.”

Or,

"Lotsa movin' around goin' on in here."

And that’s all you had to say. Everyone understood, even the ladies.

It got to where people would walk in to the place and say, "Think I'm going to the Belvedere House," and we'd all know the guy was headed for a bender.

So I really wanted to name this place “The Belvedere House,” but that would have sounded like an ad for the vodka and I don’t even like vodka so I can’t have that. I’m not sure what I’ll write here or what it will become, but Welcome. Pull up a stool and start a tab. We’ll have fun.