25 February 2005

The Kennedy Center comes through for me

The Kennedy Center is hosting a 1940s thing with posters of blown up Life magazine covers, reviews of 40's music, and (best of all) cocktails at the refreshment stands in addition to the usual wine and coffee. They have a lovely system where you can pre-order and pre-pay for your intermission treat. Reduces the line and the pressure on them and allows me to simply walk up and pick up my coffee or what-have-you and thus have time to drink the coffee before I have to head back in.

David remarked that I really should have been around for the theater of the George S. Kaufman era - 3 acts and 2 intermissions. Long intermissions at that, so you could go to the bar across the street. Sigh. Time travel, where art thou?

Although one theater pal did tell me that he mourned the closing of a certain bar/restaurant near a certain theater because if the show was dire - and he's a harsher critic than I am, so I suspect that to him a lot of them were pretty dire - he could leg it to the bar during intermission, get a Vodka, and get back in time for further suffering. But I digress.

Anyway, I was so charmed at the idea of cocktails that I immediately jettisoned the idea of pre-ordering coffee and pre-ordered a Sidecar because I'd never had one before.

What, I hear you ask, is a Sidecar? Well, DrinkBoy gives this history:

Colin recites that the Sidecar was developed during WWI, when a certain regular cusomer arrived at the Ritz on his motorcycle (replete with sidecar), and asked the bartender for a cocktail that would help take off the chill. The bartender was caught in a delema, a drink to remove a chill would appropriatly be brandy, but brandy was traditionally an after dinner drink, and his patron was wanting something before dinner. So he combined cognac, cointreau, and lemon juice to mix a cocktail whos focus was on the warming qualities of both the brandy, and the cointreau, while the lemon juice added enough of a tartness to make it appropriate as a pre-dinner cocktail. So a properly made sidecar should betray its roots as a drink that warms your palate if not your bones.

The Kennedy Center listed the ingredients as Hennessy Cognac, Triple Sec, and lemon. Others say Brandy, Cointreau, and lemon juice. A quick Google search will find lots of recipes, plus the helpful information that Cointreau is basically a triple sec, which means that it is an orange-flavored liqueur that has been thrice distilled. You learn something every day if you pay attention. Some recipes suggest frosting the glass with sugar.

What did I think? I think I have a new favorite drink! The sugar rim is not optional in my opinion, by the way. I don't have enough expertise to say if Cognac is preferred over Brandy or if Cointreau or any given triple sec is best. I just know that I liked that drink. I'm going out with friends tonight, so I think I'll have another. We'll see if Barnaby's is up to that challenge.

Come to think of it, I have Hennesy Cognac and lemon juice at home. Time to buy some Cointreau.

The ballet was nice, too.

2 comments:

David Gorsline said...

Barnaby's bartender may be up to it, but it's doubtful on the wait staff. Ask Sally to guest-blog her Singapore Sling story.

Anonymous said...

Well, it did take me a minute to dredge up that memory but when I did, it made me chuckle. I believe that you, David and I had retreated to Barnaby's after a rather brutal audition for darling Michael. I am a scotch and soda by winter and gin and tonic by summer girl. But once and a while I like to sip and savor a single malt scotch. And this was such a time. So, when the young lady came to take our drink order I said "What Single Malt Scotch do you have?" And she registered incomrehensability. As Barnaby's is a comfortable but not notable bar I figured they wouldn't have my favortie Dalwynie's but whatever they had I would enjoy. So, I came in again with "Whatever single malt scotch you have behind the bar". And we returned to our conversation. Ten minutes or so later came a beer for David, probably a scotch and soda for you and a large hourglass shaped container of no natural hue with a stick of cherries and pineapple and an umbrella in it. "Singapore Sling?" Said my waitress. "No" said I, who abhor over sweet drinks of any nature, and took my fancy glass directly to the knowelgeable blond bar tender of certain age. She poured me a more familar shot glass of the amber liquid I love so well. Single Malt Whiskey into Singapore Sling. I guess there is a similar poetry to both drink titles. But a world of difference in the palates they were made to please.