Peeking Into the Kitchen

The test kitchens have been wonderful, tipsy, stumble down the road affairs. Our guests have left with bright smiles and bleary eyes. The cocktails are that good. And the food, well, it’s been luxurious re-imagined bar food that pares with the history of the cocktail. Chef Nordo has outdone himself. But, he is not satisfied. He's been lumbering about, grumbling under his breath, turning in tight circles in the kitchen since a person or two mentioned the heat of the stuffed pepper and the extreme tartness of the preserved lemon. “Can’t these people take an adventure?” “What do they want, Applebees?” And so on and so forth. He never quite stops.

Today we take a peek into the menu.

We begin with a nut dish. The tumeric lime glaze sparks and then blends with the tart sweetness of the champagne cocktail called “The Slippage”. And this begins all the trouble for the evening.

Our second stop lands us in the land of botanicals and alchemy. Alcohol has been a medicine for humans since time immemorial. In the pursuit of purity, it was the Arabs who thought to distill wine and in the process discover alcohol itself. Known as “Aqua Vitae” a tablespoon a day was thought to give long life. It was the cure all. And in that spirit we serve The Secret Kiss, a combination of gin and yellow chartreuse. The aromatic concoction buoys the flavors of the Pickled Plate. Beets, cucumbers, quail eggs, and olives rest in a dill custard as an homage to all things preserved and fermented. The guests have been pleasantly surprised.

Next, we come to the American cocktail. This great invention of our country has inspired two centuries of tastes and sordid moments. We have reveled in our love of spirits, discovered the joy of ice, brought vermouth into the vocabulary, and finally arrived at the classic cocktail in the 1870’s with the Manhattan, the Sazarac, and the Martiniz. In this tradition we serve up a quiet ember of a drink- A Box of Nails- and pare it with the challenging Fried Food Platter. The two bite and soothe, bite and soothe.

We end the evening in a dream. Our final drink, The Violet Hour, pays tribute to the soft edges of time and color that is the cocktail hour, and when combined with the Raspberry Cloud meringue we hover in a final few moments of bliss. Enough said.

And that is our evening. A few more tweaks and few more twists, and this case is closed.

The Violet Hour

The violet hour, when the sun sets on the outside world and shadows lengthen with mystery, when a laugh can last a lifetime, and affections glow brightly. There’s the bar buzz at your back, and anybody who walks through the door could be somebody you want to know. It’s the cocktail hour. Time stands still.

Today Americans drink approximately 1/2 oz of distilled spirits a day per man, woman, and child. But back then, when the cocktail was born, it was 2 oz of liquor per day. The country was full of jitterbugs. It was drank at breakfast, as a medicine, at lunch break, and after dinner. Rum was the gold of the New World and the taxes on it’s production caused more furor and trouble than any pitiful English Tea. Alcohol. It made fortunes and bought votes.

The cocktail was the first American export around the world. Before we were known for our authors, our art, our steel, our textiles, or what have you, we were known for our drinks. It was something we were great at.

And what makes a good cocktail and not just some swill covered in syrup or water? The key is balance. Balance of mood. Of setting. Of ingredients. The soul of the spirit must be soothed before it can easily glide down the throat and coat the brain. It’s in the mixing, and in that there is something, magical.

Once inside the violet hour, the world outside may be an illusion and all of us here larger than life.