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Tag Archives: Bitters
SaneBox to deal with email overload, so much of it mass PR mail. Somehow a diligent soul, Sally Alfis of M Booth, who represents the company's spirit clients, got though the barricades. Having seen my Friday cocktail hour posts, she asked if she could send me some premium hooch. I never turn down free premium hooch. Thus, the most excellent rum in the photo (it's very good). Surprisingly, though, she continues to read Friday posts and, following my hasty Negroni post (no link, Donna unhappy with photo), sent me a new cocktail made by Scott Fitzgerald (no, relation, though he does beat on, like all ...I pay for a service called
old-fashioned, I admit, and this is another Friday cocktail post devoted to classic cocktails. It’s not because I’m nostalgic (though I am). It’s because classics are classics for a reason: they’re good. There’s a reason you don’t have a Swanson’s TV dinner in your freezer but will never tire of a well-made Martini. My dad was a Martini man. He was also an Ad Man (who actually looked a lot like Don Draper), a creative director at a Cleveland ad firm where I interned the summer after my freshman year of college. ...I’m
food fascism post! Oy! Time for a cocktail! (Figuratively—I've got long hours to go before I earn mine.) Today's Friday cocktail hour is one the oldest and simplest on record. In this era of high-end mixology and complex recipes involving expensive aperitifs and liqueurs, well unless out in the stratosphere at Aviary, I like my cocktails simple. The Old-Fashioned is just that: American whiskey, sugar, bitters, over ice with a twist. All there is to it. With the range of bourbons and bitters now available, the drink itself can vary wildly and well. So even though this is every bit as simple and satisfying as a martini, it's infinitely more complex. A martini is clear and clean, an ...Phew! I'm exhausted from all the amazing and powerful energy generated by the
My pick for best food book of the year is Tamar Adler’s An Everlasting Meal, a collection of thoughtful, elegantly written essays on food and cooking. Tamar, who has worked mainly for food magazines and has also done actual time on the line at Prune and Chez Panisse, opens the book with the rather preposterous, even arrogant claim of aspiring to the level of the doyenne of the form, MFK Fisher. As it turns out, it’s not so preposterous after all. She’s the real deal. I read the galleys of this book on a beach in Okracoke, NC, this summer and enjoyed every moment of this smart, thoughtful cook’s work. For those who like to read good writing on food, on cooking, on sharing food, both ...