The Man Who Sold America The Pimm's Cup?

I own an old book by Maurice Zolotow called "It Takes All Kinds." It's a collection of profiles of odd New Yorkers, published in 1952. One of the profiles is of one Jim Moran (1908-1999), an inventive and irrepressible publicity man.

According to this account, he was hired in 1949 to concoct a stunt that would get the Pimm's Cup—then without much of a following in the U.S.—into the newspapers. His scheme went like this. He contracted the services of band leader Alvino Rey, radio actor Herbert Evers, movie actress Ann Staunton and musical actress Nancy Andrews (using money as a lure, I imagine). He instructed Evers and Staunton to enter the posh East 55th Street Manhattan joint called the Little Club on June 15 around 2 AM and begin demanding Pimm's Cups. Fifteen minutes later, Rey and Andrews entered and ordered Pimm's Cups as well! Only Andrews specified, in a loud voice, that she wanted hers with a spring of mint.

At this request, Staunton pretended to high dudgeon! She argued that everyone in the world with a brain knows that a Pimm's Cup is only properly taken with a cucumber, not mint! Mind your own beeswax, answered Andrews. Evers exclaimed, "You can't talk to my friend like that!" Rey told Evers to back off. Then the food fight began! Staunton flug a cucumber at Rey. Rey punched Evers in the face (or pretended to). Evers fell down. The police were called. Rey was taken to the station house, where he was released on $500 bail (by Moran, in a beard).

The "incident" made the front page of the World-Telegram and the third page of the New York Sun, and got two columns in the Daily News. After that, it broke nationally, and everyone knew about the Pimm's Cup.

Hold the Mayo!

Sometimes I think today's ambitious mixologists are too much Mr. Hyde and not enough Dr. Jekyll in their strivings for something new. There are a lot of kooky drinks out there. But, then again, who can say with any sureness from which corner that critical "Eureka!" will come.

With that in mind, and without comment, I submit for your consideration the P.B.L.T. (Plymouth gin, Bacon, Lettuce, Tomato), the creation of D.C. mixologist Gina Chersevani. I have never tasted one. But if you have a free afternoon, and feel like drinking your lunch, give it a go. Or, better yet, visit Gina and have her make you one.

P.B.L.T.

1 oz Plymouth™ Gin
1 cube of lettuce water
1 cube of tomato water
Spray vinegar on one side of glass and stick dehydrated bacon dust on side.

First spray vinegar on a glass and dip in dehydrated bacon dust, then place a lettuce water cube, tomato cube, then pour the Plymouth Gin over top.

Tomato Cubes

16 oz of fresh tomato juice (either in a juicer or done in a blender and then strained)
1 teaspoon of white pepper
1 pinch of fleur de sel
4 oz of fresh lemon juice
4 dashes of Tabasco

Combine all ingredients together and fill ice trays. Makes about 24-30 cubes

Lettuce Cubes

14 oz of lettuce water (2 large heads of iceberg lettuce, that has been juiced in a juicer)
1 teaspoon of white pepper
1 pinch of fleur de sel
4 oz of lemon juice

Combine all ingredients together and fill ice trays. Makes about 20-24 cubes

The Sipping News

The New York Times reviews Phil Ward's Mayahuel.

So does Time Out New York, again positively.

Eric Asimov writes about Shinn Estate Vineyards, whose Long Island wines I like fine. I was just drinking their rose last night. Substantial, deep red, dry yet full.

Alice Fiering bemoans how blogs (like this one? like her own?) have devalued writing and caused publishers to expect copy in exchange for "exposure," as opposed to money. I know from what she speaks. But I also embrace the positive side of blogging, the immediacy, the freedom, the personal tone.

The annual Tales of the Cocktail Spirit Award nominees were announced, Camper English among them.

St. John Frizell's new Red Hook joint, Fort Defiance, will open this weekend. Liquor license to come in July.

Dr. Bamboo has a very bad Martini.

Pork, and Other Bar Food

With the ratcheting up of quality in the cocktail and wine worlds, bar food has also improved itself. I don't know about you, but I can't stand pretzels and beer nuts. I only eat them if I need some fuel and there're not other victuals in site. Happily, I haven't had to make that choice in quite a while. The new New York bars have wonderful food menus. Inventive pickle and olive plates are epidemic, artisinal cheese plates are de rigueur, and pork products (yum) are everywhere.

I co-authored a piece on this trend, with Joshua M. Bernstein, for Time Out New York. The items from Mayahuel, Sweet and Lowdown, Beer Table and Draft Barn are of my origination.

The Best New Bar Food

By Joshua M. Bernstein and Robert Simonson

Pass through the dining room of Anthos to reach Anthos Upstairs (36 W 52nd St between Fifth and Sixth Aves, 212-582-6900), the loungey companion to Michael Psilakis’s high-end Greek destination. Like the setting, the prices are relaxed, offering bargains such as the BFT ($12): luscious pork belly, feta and fresh tomato slices layered on thick griddle-cooked bread.

Eat it with: Try a glass of 2008 Domaine Skouras Zoë rosé ($10). “The agiorgitiko grapes complement the pork’s smokiness,” says owner Donatella Arpaia, “while the moschofilero grapes’ minerality cuts through the richness.”

Pacific Standard

While brew spot Pacific Standard (82 Fourth Ave between Bergen St and St. Marks Pl, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn; 718-858-1951) is lauded for its Cali beers, the San Francisco–made It’s-It Ice Cream sandwiches ($4) are equally craveable: vanilla ice cream squashed between two oatmeal cookies and coated in chocolate.

Eat it with: Though the Young’s Double Chocolate Stout ($6) is a natural mate, co-owner John Rauschenberg prefers the Anderson Valley Hop Ottin’ IPA ($6) for its “refreshing counterbalance.”


Beer Table

The rustic porky schlenkerla sausages ($16) from Beer Table (427B Seventh Ave between 14th and 15th Sts, Park Slope, Brooklyn; 718-965-1196), served with new potatoes and pickled onions, are among the most satisfyingly earthy of the city’s links.

Eat it with: Smoky sausage calls for a smoky beer. Schlenkerla Marzen ($10) is a beech-wood–tinged example of a German brew genre literally called “smoke beer.” Beer Table’s sausages are made with malt from its brewery, so how could they not go together?

Bar Blanc Bistro

Bar Blanc Bistro (142 W 10th St between Greenwich Ave and Waverly Pl, 212-255-2330) has gotten a revamp, with a new name and a notable bar menu hawking low-cost, high-concept snacks like the addictive crispy pig ears ($6). The swine is first braised in pork stock, white wine and herbs, then sliced into strips and deep-fried. They’re haute cracklings—and an ideal drinking accomplice. Every day except Saturdays, bar snacks and drinks are half off until 7pm.

Eat it with: The dark Grimbergen Dubbel ($7) is a hearty, full-bodied beer with a touch of yeast; smoke and sweetness offset the fried, bacony flavor.


Mayahuel

The ample cochinita (pork bellies, $12), braised to juicy, crispy-edged perfection, is one of chef Luis Gonzales’s most ambitious dishes at tequila-focused Mayahuel (304 E 6th St between First and Second Aves, 212-253-5888). It’s also one of the best.

Eat it with: The mescal-laced Slynx ($13) has a bewitching smokiness that contrasts beautifully with the bellies’ sweet papaya-mango mustard.

Elettaria
Photograph: Roxana Marroquin

Chef Akhtar Nawab of the Indian-nuanced Elettaria (33 W 8th St between Fifth and Sixth Aves, 212-677-3833) recently unveiled his very own hot dog ($2.50): a snappy Franken-sausage hewn from pork shoulder and beef brisket, served on a homemade bun.

Eat it with: A Cannonball Run ($12; $6 on weekends from 3 to 8pm), Elettaria’s take on a strawberry daiquiri, has an acidity that balances the spicy meat.

Allen & Delancey

At romantic downtown haunt Allen & Delancey (115 Allen St at Delancey St, 212-253-5400), Tuesday’s half-priced drinks are accompanied by chef Kyle Bailey’s “happy night” menu, offering finger foods such as our favorite “chicken nuggets of offal”—sweetbread poppers ($8). The plump delicacy is coated in panko bread crumbs, then fried to a crunch that contrasts with the lush center and goes awfully well with the creamy buttermilk dressing.

Eat it with: The Jalisco Trail No. 1 ($6.50), bright with blanco tequila and fresh lime juice, is a clean companion to this fried bite.

Draft Barn

Ask the bartenders at Gowanus beer palace Draft Barn (530 Third Ave between 12th and 13th Sts, Gowanus, Brooklyn; 718-768-0515) whether pickled herring ($7) is good with beer, and they’ll shrug, “Of course.” Savor one briny morsel, paired with fat slices of onion, and you’ll forswear pretzels forever.

Eat it with: Pauwel Kwak ($9), a fruit-rich Belgian amber, will have you going back and forth between the beer and the herring—compatible in their peasant characters—trying to decide which you like best.

Sweet & Lowdown

Custom pickles are the beer nuts of Obama-era bars. The mixed pickle-and-olive plate ($4) at Lower East Side wine bar Sweet & Lowdown (123 Allen St between Delancey and Rivington Sts, 212-228-7746) is a modest but thoughtful assortment, including tart cornichons, salty kalamatas and meaty caper berries.

Eat it with: High in acidity, pickles work with a surprising number of wines. But the smooth, melon notes of the Amrita Cuvee ($12), a complex white blend out of Oregon, counter the tang particularly well.

Some Liverwurst With Your Gimlet?

A website called Ephemeral New York has posted this 1930s add from Brooklyn-based Stahl-Meyer promoting their "Cocktail Liverwurst," a bar snack idea that seems to have gone the way of the Dodo. Love the fish-shaped toothpick holder. But what do fish have to do with liverwurst?

A Beer at...Shannon Pot

When I used to work in Woodside Queens, I would pass by the Shannon Pot every day when I transferred from the G to the 7 train. This week I finally paid a call on the bar, which enjoyed an evocative situation, on a corner just before the elevated subway tracks.

A Beer At...Shannon Pot

The décor of roughly 80 percent of the bars in NYC is dictated by two things: the promotional crap that liquor companies throw at them; and the trite Irish knickknacks picked up by the owner. The Shannon Port, at the corner of Jackson Avenue and Davis Street in Long Island City, follows this model of accidental interior design. Framed map of Ireland, check. Display “Champagne” bottle of Budweiser, check. Plastic leprechaun figures, check. Mock “kangaroo crossing” sign from Cooper’s Brewery, check. “God Made the Irish #1” license plate, check.

Despite all this, Shannon’s manages to eek out a personality all its own, starting with the visually impressive, unintentional collage of 11 neon beer signs in its Tudoresque, paned front windows—something that one of the artists over at nearby P.S.1 might had wished they’d come up with. An old scythe, mounted on the wall, is a bit of a non sequitur. The parody of a baseball shirt that reads “Werksux,” on sale for $12, was designed by the owner, who likes to hold down a stool at the far end of the old, battered, wooden bar, where he conducts expletive-laden, Cliff-Clavin-like arguments about the nature of the Franco-Prussian War, and when Napoleon died.

The Shannon Pot was opened only a decade ago, but it feels like it has been rooted to its corner, directly under the rumbling tracks of the 7 train, for much longer. The presence of elevated trains seems to make anything nearby feel ancient, I guess. Anyway, shows like “The Third Watch” and “Law & Order” seem to think so. They come here sometimes when they need a backdrop for died-in-the-wool, blue-collar New York. The high ceilings are covered in dingy tin and there’s a funny room in back that look’s like somebody’s pantry.

You can eat here. (Shannon Pot is officially a “bar & grille.”) The usual Ould Sod suspects are on the menu: bangers and mash, Irish potato soup, shepherd’s pie, and the requisite “signature” burger. You can get a bucket of five different beers for $20 if you’re so inclined. The left-hand portion of the room, up a step and separated by a wooden partition and a brass railing, is reserved to dining, giving the joint a slightly more genteel air. Things get busy at lunch. On weeknights, the bar is sparsely populated, the quiet domain of regulars.

I’m told that, on weekends, the hipster art crowd invades and completely alters the vibe of the place. A sign of this mild cultural war can perhaps be seen in the bathroom, where the owner has taped up a sign saying, “Do not add any tags to this door. Please respect my party.” We should all respect one another’s parties.
—Robert Simonson

A Couple Dubonnet Drinks

Liquor publicists e-mail me cocktail recipes very often. Most of the time, I pay no mind, because these formulas are rarely of the highest order. Typically, they find a way to recommend using a good 2 or 3 ounces of the promoted intoxicant, combined with vodka and some other ingredient that they just happen to also represent. Viola! Marketing as Mixology!

But when a couple recipes from the Dubonnet people came through the wire, I paid some attention. Why? Well, because that bottle of Dubonnet of mine just sits there. Doing nothing! I want to use it, I do. But how many Operas and Deshlers can I drink?

Also, the press missive had an attractive angle. It was promoting the use of local ingredients, specifically windowbox herbs—of which I have many. And I dearly love using them. (I know this is ironic, since, in this effort to utilize local food, I am working with an apertif wine that is imported from France, but hey....)

The second of the two recipes, a Dubonnet Mint Julep, was the less exciting of the two because, well, it was a Dubonnet Mint Julep. Not that it wasn't delicious. It was absolutely delicious! But I knew exactly how it would taste before I even made it. Not much excitement there. But, as I said, very good, so give it a try (I used simple syrup instead of sugar, and lessened the proportions because I wasn't interested in getting blotto so quickly):

2 oz. Dubonnet Rouge
3 oz. bourbon
1 teaspoon sugar
Handful of mint

Muddle mint with sugar then add ice, Dubonnet Rouge and bourbon. Stir rapidly to mix. Serve in a julep cup.

The first recipe, called Summer Thyme (hee hee), was much more interesting. As you might guess, it involves thyme: one spring shaken up with the Dubonnet, vodka, lemon juice, salt and pepper; and one spring as garnish. Here's the formula:

Summer Thyme
1 oz. Dubonnet Rouge
2 oz. vodka
2 sprigs of fresh thyme
Squeeze of lemon juice
Salt and pepper

In a cocktail shaker, combine Dubonnet Rouge, vodka, one thyme sprig, lemon juice, and a pinch of salt and pepper. Shake vigorously with ice. Pour into a rocks glass filled with crushed ice and garnish with a lemon slice and second sprig of thyme.

The taste, I must say, is remarkable. This is a vodka cocktail that has real personality, and the thyme makes all the difference, going beautifully with the flavors of the Dubonnet, and adding endlessly intriguing herbal notes. (Thyme must be one of the secret components in Dubonnet's makeup.) A very elegant drink.

Now I know what to do with my Dubonnet.