Sorry, dear Reader. . . I sometimes lapse into Stream of Consciousness writing. I did describe how I simplified my dry martini. Now for a few words about the Bloody.
On the face of it, "simplifying" might mean just pouring your vodka or gin into a glass, then adding a dollop of a commercially made Bloody Mary mix. Not so. It's not the number of bottles on your shelf, but the ingredients in that mix, that make it overly complex. For the most part, Bloody Mary mixes are - to me, at least - not much more than tomato flavored salt, with some heat. And because these bottles of mix remain on the shelves for some time, they contain things that help make them seem fresh, and so that the semisolids don't separate. So consider getting away from a complexity that you don't need.
My personal preference in this genre is the Red Snapper (or Ruddy Mary), the gin version of the Bloody Mary. But whether you prefer vodka or gin, consider this: Into a mixing glass, place your preferred spirits, tomato juice, a squeeze of lemon juice, a dash of hot sauce (PLEASE don't make your Bloodys so hot and spicy that it dominates the flavor!), and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. That's all. Mix and enjoy. It may take a few moments to appreciate the utter simplicity of this mixture, now that it doesn't contain celery salt, habanero peppers, minced clams, horseradish or other accouterments. If you use vodka, don't opt for a top-shelf brand. It will be lost in a Bloody Mary, anyway. If you choose gin, select one with a noticeable juniper infusion.
Come up with your own simplifications. The idea of good cocktails is to savor the flavor and to socialize.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Keeping it Simple. Keeping it Real.
Most of you who follow this occasional cocktail blog know me as a classic cocktail purist. I do add the drop or two of Fee's Orange Bitters to my dry GIN martini; I believe that blended whiskey is a far better choice for making Manhattans; and I know that Bloody Marys are best made fresh, and not from any mix - no matter how "authentic" they claim to be. But there are times when simplicity is best, a rule that applies to life and to cocktails.
The other day, I set out to make my personal favorite - a dry martini. I put the cocktail glass into the freezer, I filled my martini pitcher with ice, set out the bottle of orange bitters, and I got the olives (plural) ready. But in a last-minute change of heart, I removed the glass from the freezer, emptied all but two or three ice cubes from the pitcher, put away the bitters and exchanged the olives, for a freshly-cut strip of lemon peel. You see, even though each of those special effects was still "classic," I wanted to simplify even more. And the result was spectacular! With a room temperature glass and far fewer ice cubes, the martini wasn't ice cold. . . so I actually GOT to taste the botanicals in the gin and dry vermouth. And what can be distracting for the palate, the olives and bitters turned out to be better omitted now and then.
There seems to be such an emphasis on complexity, these days. Wines with complex "levels" of aromas and flavors; bourbons that have complex oak and caramel "notes" (Gee, I hate that word!), and beers/ales with complex malt backbones or hop infusions. But it's simplicity that helps us appreciate cocktails (and other drinks), because it encourages our taste buds and olfactory cells to SEARCH for flavor, instead of drowning them with complexity. Don't believe me? Think of this, for a moment: You're more likely to enjoy the real flavor of a piece of filet mignon, when it's just simply grilled, than when it's wrapped in bacon, sauteed in garlic and placed over burning mesquite. It's not that those other flavors aren't pleasant, but it's when the palate gets to sample all the natural flavors inherent in the meat, that the enjoyment follows.
Seek simplicity. And you don't need to do it regularly. But now and then, give complexity a rest, and enjoy the "ahhhhhhhh" of the simple things in life.
The other day, I set out to make my personal favorite - a dry martini. I put the cocktail glass into the freezer, I filled my martini pitcher with ice, set out the bottle of orange bitters, and I got the olives (plural) ready. But in a last-minute change of heart, I removed the glass from the freezer, emptied all but two or three ice cubes from the pitcher, put away the bitters and exchanged the olives, for a freshly-cut strip of lemon peel. You see, even though each of those special effects was still "classic," I wanted to simplify even more. And the result was spectacular! With a room temperature glass and far fewer ice cubes, the martini wasn't ice cold. . . so I actually GOT to taste the botanicals in the gin and dry vermouth. And what can be distracting for the palate, the olives and bitters turned out to be better omitted now and then.
There seems to be such an emphasis on complexity, these days. Wines with complex "levels" of aromas and flavors; bourbons that have complex oak and caramel "notes" (Gee, I hate that word!), and beers/ales with complex malt backbones or hop infusions. But it's simplicity that helps us appreciate cocktails (and other drinks), because it encourages our taste buds and olfactory cells to SEARCH for flavor, instead of drowning them with complexity. Don't believe me? Think of this, for a moment: You're more likely to enjoy the real flavor of a piece of filet mignon, when it's just simply grilled, than when it's wrapped in bacon, sauteed in garlic and placed over burning mesquite. It's not that those other flavors aren't pleasant, but it's when the palate gets to sample all the natural flavors inherent in the meat, that the enjoyment follows.
Seek simplicity. And you don't need to do it regularly. But now and then, give complexity a rest, and enjoy the "ahhhhhhhh" of the simple things in life.