The Sparky Dog and Other Cocktails
Quotes of the Week:
"We have a little bar and I'd love to mix you up a cocktail! I've just invented a new one that I call a Sparky Dog..." ~ VS, music to my ears via e-mail
"This wine is from your homeland!" ~ KG to JC in reference to the Punta Final Reserva Malbec 2006.
Some weeks, ladies and g's, I feel superbly lucky to be an errant urban gastronomer in the great hulking metropolis of NYC. If wealth can be measured in delicious food, fabulous cocktails and warm company, then I am Queen Midas sitting atop a pile of gold. And, although the week held some things that would make any digital girl a little blue, it was so overflowing with gastronomic goodness that I sit here on Sunday morning sipping coffee with a smile on my face and a warm buzz in my gut.
Fair warning, readers, there is a lot to cover this week, and although I thought about tabling a few items for later, where is the challenge in that!? So settle back for a long read or print out a doggy bag for lunch tomorrow!
Wednesday - The Sparky Dog
I sat on a high stool at the bar in VS and CK's apartment in Long Island City. The walls were painted strong oranges and yellows, and the Queensboro bridge sparkled in the skyline showcased by the panoramic window. VS with her elegant retro style was the perfect hostess and mixologist. While we chatted about the worst apartments they saw while recently hunting for a new place to live, VS combined two ounces of Absolut Peppar vodka, four ounces of grapefruit juice and one ounce of triple sec. She added three slices of fresh jalapeno, explaining that the Peppar vodka wasn't very spicy. VS had been working on this drink for quite some time, experimenting with different ingredients.
I sipped the tasty concoction while being eyed by the true sparky dog, Zelda. An extended hand was met with barking. As Zelda became sparkier, the drink became spicier with the fresh kick of infusing jalapenos.
After our mixed drinks, we wandered down to the conveniently located Shi for pan-Asian food which was fresh and flavorful. Although the Sparky Dog had already made me a little tipsy, I had to try the house-made pineapple-ginger infused vodka, which was both sweet and strong, though not very gingery.
We went back up to the apartment so I could pick up the four raw lamb chops I had deposited earlier in their fridge and the 12" cast-iron skillet I had bought at lunch time. (I was planning a dinner for Saturday, and the lamb lady at the farmer's market had set me up and given me cooking instructions that included using a cast-iron skillet.)
Zelda softened up as I was standing near the door ready to leave. I suspect that she was able to smell the raw lamb chops in my hand even through the sealed plastic of the packaging. I said goodbye, hefted the cast-iron skillet over my shoulder and headed out into the windy cold, which didn't feel so chilling after the drinks and the company.
Thursday ~ Picholine and the Hudson Hotel Bar
In my culinary adventures, I have learned a few things here and there. For example, dining with a friend and her French beaux has taught me that cheese and dried fruit can be a lovely dessert. And, if you happen to ever visit Picholine on 64 Street, I offer you the same advice proffered by the German on Thursday night: "Save room for the cheese."
Actually, my advice would be: "Have an appetizer and skip right to the cheese because it is a meal in itself."
Picholine is named for "the small, tender green olive harvested in the Mediterranean." The scene is a bit stuffy with starched white table linens and more uttered "madams" on the way to the ladies room than I could count. At prime dinner time, the restaurant was sparsely populated, which, on a Thursday night, I assume is a sign of the economy. Dinner at Picholine is a pricey affair, but the food was phenomenal, and there are tasting menu and prix-fixe options as well as cheese and wine flights.
The sommelier seemed a little challenged when we rejected his first suggestion based on the price point, but after a few moments, he recommended the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Les Sinards 2006, which was smooth and delicious.
While we waited the first course, we were served two small tastes: one a tiny square of pork belly and the other a little dish of cauliflower panacotta with lemon gelee topped with a fried caper. The earthy flavor of the cauliflower and the richness of the pannacotta made a delightful precursor to what would prove to be one of the richest meals I've eaten.
Following the waiter's recommendation, I ordered the Warm Main Lobster with fried vanilla milk, endive and kumquats as a prelude while the German tried the Foie Gras "Shabu Shabu" with root vegetable pearls and sweet and sour bouillon, which was poured over the foie gras once it was brought to the table, thus the shabu shabu.
I am not really sure what fried vanilla milk means, but I can tell you that the lobster was the best I have had. The "meat" was surrounded by intricate flavors that pressed more than a few pleasure buttons as they rolled across my tongue. The foie gras was also quite good, but, as you know, I'm not so fond of the process for producing it and thus, no matter how delicious, cannot recommend it.
For main courses, I again followed the waiter's suggestion and ordered the Diver Sea Scallops with Sunchoke Silk and Blood Orange Grenobloise. A quick search on grenobloise led me to two interesting things:
The German ordered the Wild Scottish Game. Given two choices, he selected the wood pigeon over pheasant. The menu warns that "bird shot may be present," a helpful fact for sure. The meat had a heavy taste, slightly gamey, but was very well made.
It was after the main courses when the fromagier rolled over a marble cart filled with various goat, sheep and cow cheeses that I nearly wet my fancy panties in excitement. When he said a serving for two would be six cheese selections, I thought, I didn't save enough room!
But, of course, that did not stop me from trying every cheese. And delightfully, the fromagier provides diners with a brochure called "The Cheeses of Picholine." The cheeses of your choice are checked off and numbered by order from left to right as they appear on the marble slate set upon the table. A small dish of dates, fig paste, quince paste and raisins is served on the side along with a small basket of breads.
My favorite cheeses were the Kuntener Reblochon, a soft pungent cows milk cheese from Switzerland and the Gouda, a lovely nutty cheese from Holland.
Following dinner we went to Hudson Hotel Bar, a cavernous clubby bar with a crowd so young the bartender had to id and then refuse to serve the girl next to me at the bar. I wish I could report the drinks at least were good. But half-way through pouring the two Manhattans I ordered, the bartender realized he forgot the bitters. He threw some into the shaker and finished pouring over the sad-looking maraschino cherries on the bottom. The result was barely drinkable, and the tab, at $36 was high for two poorly made cocktails.
Not to mention that Manhattans should be stirred not shaken, because as JC explained on Saturday while bartending for LP, KG and I, the ice breaks off and waters down the drink. His approach would have been to stop the bartender and order a gin and tonic.
I like this approach. It reminds a bit of Willie Nelson singing "The Gambler"... know when to walk away, know when to run...
Saturday ~ Lamb Chops, Cast Iron and a Guest Bartender
All week I had been preparing to make a Middle-Eastern feast inspired by the delicious cuisine I had enjoyed last week at ilili, a Lebanese restaurant on 5th Avenue. Several evenings and lunch hours were spent searching the internet for recipes and local markets like Kalustyan's for special ingredients.
What had originally been planned as a dinner for two had, by Saturday, transformed into a mini-dinner party with KG, LP and JC. I don't regularly cook meat, but my original guest was a meat eater, and I had a previous culinary mishap to make up for. And, the Wednesday lamb lady at the farmer's market had provided such clear instructions: sear the chops five minutes on each end, five minutes on each side and then place the skillet in the oven at 400 degrees for five-eight minutes. Even I could handle that!
A search on Epicurious led me to a recipe for Lebanese Lamb Chops that included a rub of mashed garlic, salt, olive oil, lemon zest and baharat (a Middle-Eastern mixture of seven spices: cumin, nutmeg, cardamom, clove, black pepper, cinnamon and coriander). Searches on the Food Network Web site revealed recipes for Lebanese Mezza Dishes, including hummus and fattoush (peasant salad), and a recipe for Lebanese Yogurt Cheese (or labne).
Of course, I didn't follow the hummus and fattoush recipes exactly, only proving that one does not always have to follow the recipe. I added cumin to the hummus and cut the lemon juice a bit. The recipe had a very helpful tip: add chick pea juice for creaminess.
In the fattoush salad, I did not include lettuce because I didn't think it was necessary. I used only the cucumbers, tomatoes, green peppers, parsley, mint and sumac and replaced the green onions with red onion. I also served warm whole wheat pita smothered in olive oil and za'atar and topped with feta, a trick I learned from LP some months back. Za'atar is another spice mixture. I learned from LP on Saturday that are different types of za'atar from different regions. The container I had from Dean and Deluca did not specify.
The hummus was a huge hit, and the salad was well praised along with the bread. The yogurt cheese was, well, eh... I'll have to try that again with a different recipe. The aforementioned Malbec that KG brought went very well with the appetizers.
And the lamb...
Ah, well, if I may, readers... I impressed myself. The lamb was fantastic. And, thanks to KG's help, the red bliss potatoes with rosemary were delicious. A side of roasted carrots and fennel rounded out the meal nicely.
But the food was only half the evening. The drinks, for which I can take no credit, were just as fabulous. JC, an expert (by profession) in all things alcoholic and drinkable, brought a bottle of Borobo from Casa Lapostolle in Chile and an aerator. You may remember last week I mentioned the sommelier leading the wine class I attended said we must slurp the wine to experience the true flavor. A wine aerator does the slurping for you, which is great since I wasn't very good at slurping without inhaling.
JC showed us that the Borobo had sediment on the inside of the bottle after the first half glass was poured. The process of aerating would also help reduce the sediment that ended up in the glass. The wine was poured through the aerator into a pitcher (since I don't have a wine decanter). We tasted it both ways, and the flavor was much enhanced after aeration. It was a nice complement to the lamb.
After the dinner plates were cleared, JC unpacked his travel bar... an impressive array of syrups and bitters and muddling, mixing, stirring and shaking tools. LP had already been witness to this type of demonstration, but KG and I were new to the show. And, I, as I am sure you must know, I completely geeked out.
We ignored the plate of baklava meant to be dessert and instead went on a journey sampling at least five (maybe six?) different cocktails. My notes degraded as the evening wore on. No surprise there!
JC started with a bourbon smash, a smash being anything that has a spirit with muddled mint and lemon. JC quartered one half of a lemon, threw the four pieces into a shaker and muddled it with mint. Three ice cubes and the two ounces of Eagle Creek bourbon were added, and the shaking commenced (with no dancing, but with a nice Elvis move). The drink was poured and served on the rocks. Two sprigs of mint were slapped against the palm to release the oils and dropped on top. It was delicious and tart.
The second version of the smash also included one half ounce of agave syrup and one half ounce of Grand Marnier, making it quite a bit sweeter. LP preferred the tart version and KG the sweet, proving that enjoyment of a well-made cocktail is still dependent upon personal preference.
Our next treat was an old-fashioned, which you may not know, was the original cocktail. The key ingredients are a dark spirit, sugar and bitters. Ours was made with Eagle Creek, agave syrup and Fee's aromatic old fashioned bitters.
The following cocktail was an advanced version with bourbon, bitters and a concentrated simple syrup flavored with anise, cloves, cardamom and probably other ingredients I failed to write down. JC made the syrup. I found it to be delicious and complex.
Next up was a Manhattan, made with the creme-de-la-creme of vermouths: Carpano Antica. And, holy cow batman, that is some super tasty liquor. It has a very floral, sweet yet slightly bitter taste. I didn't even know such a vermouth existed, and now my friends, I can never go back! I now know as well that I can never again watch a bartender make a shoddy Manhattan. My days of Manhattan-innocence are over!
The recipe: two ounces bourbon, one of vermouth, two dashes of bitters and a splash of Grand Marnier.
There was also a Sazerac in the mix, which is the drink of New Orleans. It is made with an absinthe rinse, simple syrup and bourbon (though the original called for cognac).
We all tasted everything, but I laid claim to the Manhattan, KG to the second Bourbon Smash and LP to the Sazerac. JC made another Manhattan for himself. The rest of the drinks we managed to finish in between.
What a crazy wonderful evening filled with great food, fantastic drinks, a lesson in bartending and great conversation with lots of laughter. Like I said, I am a superbly lucky gastronomer.
And everyone went home with hummus and a lamb chop. : )
And, now my friends, I am off to Brooklyn for a Mardis-Gras Superbowl party at Mrs. O's. You know I don't care much for sports, but I love Mrs. O and her cooking, and it's fun excuse to spend an evening cooking and stuffing myself silly with my extended NY family.
Special thanks to VS, CK, LP, JC and KG. You guys rock!
Stay tuned. And please forgive the typos! My spell check doesn't seem to be functioning.
Quotes of the Week:
"We have a little bar and I'd love to mix you up a cocktail! I've just invented a new one that I call a Sparky Dog..." ~ VS, music to my ears via e-mail
"This wine is from your homeland!" ~ KG to JC in reference to the Punta Final Reserva Malbec 2006.
Some weeks, ladies and g's, I feel superbly lucky to be an errant urban gastronomer in the great hulking metropolis of NYC. If wealth can be measured in delicious food, fabulous cocktails and warm company, then I am Queen Midas sitting atop a pile of gold. And, although the week held some things that would make any digital girl a little blue, it was so overflowing with gastronomic goodness that I sit here on Sunday morning sipping coffee with a smile on my face and a warm buzz in my gut.
Fair warning, readers, there is a lot to cover this week, and although I thought about tabling a few items for later, where is the challenge in that!? So settle back for a long read or print out a doggy bag for lunch tomorrow!
Wednesday - The Sparky Dog
I sat on a high stool at the bar in VS and CK's apartment in Long Island City. The walls were painted strong oranges and yellows, and the Queensboro bridge sparkled in the skyline showcased by the panoramic window. VS with her elegant retro style was the perfect hostess and mixologist. While we chatted about the worst apartments they saw while recently hunting for a new place to live, VS combined two ounces of Absolut Peppar vodka, four ounces of grapefruit juice and one ounce of triple sec. She added three slices of fresh jalapeno, explaining that the Peppar vodka wasn't very spicy. VS had been working on this drink for quite some time, experimenting with different ingredients.
I sipped the tasty concoction while being eyed by the true sparky dog, Zelda. An extended hand was met with barking. As Zelda became sparkier, the drink became spicier with the fresh kick of infusing jalapenos.
After our mixed drinks, we wandered down to the conveniently located Shi for pan-Asian food which was fresh and flavorful. Although the Sparky Dog had already made me a little tipsy, I had to try the house-made pineapple-ginger infused vodka, which was both sweet and strong, though not very gingery.
We went back up to the apartment so I could pick up the four raw lamb chops I had deposited earlier in their fridge and the 12" cast-iron skillet I had bought at lunch time. (I was planning a dinner for Saturday, and the lamb lady at the farmer's market had set me up and given me cooking instructions that included using a cast-iron skillet.)
Zelda softened up as I was standing near the door ready to leave. I suspect that she was able to smell the raw lamb chops in my hand even through the sealed plastic of the packaging. I said goodbye, hefted the cast-iron skillet over my shoulder and headed out into the windy cold, which didn't feel so chilling after the drinks and the company.
Thursday ~ Picholine and the Hudson Hotel Bar
In my culinary adventures, I have learned a few things here and there. For example, dining with a friend and her French beaux has taught me that cheese and dried fruit can be a lovely dessert. And, if you happen to ever visit Picholine on 64 Street, I offer you the same advice proffered by the German on Thursday night: "Save room for the cheese."
Actually, my advice would be: "Have an appetizer and skip right to the cheese because it is a meal in itself."
Picholine is named for "the small, tender green olive harvested in the Mediterranean." The scene is a bit stuffy with starched white table linens and more uttered "madams" on the way to the ladies room than I could count. At prime dinner time, the restaurant was sparsely populated, which, on a Thursday night, I assume is a sign of the economy. Dinner at Picholine is a pricey affair, but the food was phenomenal, and there are tasting menu and prix-fixe options as well as cheese and wine flights.
The sommelier seemed a little challenged when we rejected his first suggestion based on the price point, but after a few moments, he recommended the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Les Sinards 2006, which was smooth and delicious.
While we waited the first course, we were served two small tastes: one a tiny square of pork belly and the other a little dish of cauliflower panacotta with lemon gelee topped with a fried caper. The earthy flavor of the cauliflower and the richness of the pannacotta made a delightful precursor to what would prove to be one of the richest meals I've eaten.
Following the waiter's recommendation, I ordered the Warm Main Lobster with fried vanilla milk, endive and kumquats as a prelude while the German tried the Foie Gras "Shabu Shabu" with root vegetable pearls and sweet and sour bouillon, which was poured over the foie gras once it was brought to the table, thus the shabu shabu.
I am not really sure what fried vanilla milk means, but I can tell you that the lobster was the best I have had. The "meat" was surrounded by intricate flavors that pressed more than a few pleasure buttons as they rolled across my tongue. The foie gras was also quite good, but, as you know, I'm not so fond of the process for producing it and thus, no matter how delicious, cannot recommend it.
For main courses, I again followed the waiter's suggestion and ordered the Diver Sea Scallops with Sunchoke Silk and Blood Orange Grenobloise. A quick search on grenobloise led me to two interesting things:
- "In the realm of classic French cuisine, any preparation bearing the designation grenobloise—literally, "of Grenoble", a city in southeastern France—is served with a sauce of browned butter, capers, parsley, and pieces of lemon." ~ Saveur
- Picholine's Chef Terrance Brennan has a recipe for scallops with blood orange grenoblois in the archives of his blog.
The German ordered the Wild Scottish Game. Given two choices, he selected the wood pigeon over pheasant. The menu warns that "bird shot may be present," a helpful fact for sure. The meat had a heavy taste, slightly gamey, but was very well made.
It was after the main courses when the fromagier rolled over a marble cart filled with various goat, sheep and cow cheeses that I nearly wet my fancy panties in excitement. When he said a serving for two would be six cheese selections, I thought, I didn't save enough room!
But, of course, that did not stop me from trying every cheese. And delightfully, the fromagier provides diners with a brochure called "The Cheeses of Picholine." The cheeses of your choice are checked off and numbered by order from left to right as they appear on the marble slate set upon the table. A small dish of dates, fig paste, quince paste and raisins is served on the side along with a small basket of breads.
My favorite cheeses were the Kuntener Reblochon, a soft pungent cows milk cheese from Switzerland and the Gouda, a lovely nutty cheese from Holland.
Following dinner we went to Hudson Hotel Bar, a cavernous clubby bar with a crowd so young the bartender had to id and then refuse to serve the girl next to me at the bar. I wish I could report the drinks at least were good. But half-way through pouring the two Manhattans I ordered, the bartender realized he forgot the bitters. He threw some into the shaker and finished pouring over the sad-looking maraschino cherries on the bottom. The result was barely drinkable, and the tab, at $36 was high for two poorly made cocktails.
Not to mention that Manhattans should be stirred not shaken, because as JC explained on Saturday while bartending for LP, KG and I, the ice breaks off and waters down the drink. His approach would have been to stop the bartender and order a gin and tonic.
I like this approach. It reminds a bit of Willie Nelson singing "The Gambler"... know when to walk away, know when to run...
Saturday ~ Lamb Chops, Cast Iron and a Guest Bartender
All week I had been preparing to make a Middle-Eastern feast inspired by the delicious cuisine I had enjoyed last week at ilili, a Lebanese restaurant on 5th Avenue. Several evenings and lunch hours were spent searching the internet for recipes and local markets like Kalustyan's for special ingredients.
What had originally been planned as a dinner for two had, by Saturday, transformed into a mini-dinner party with KG, LP and JC. I don't regularly cook meat, but my original guest was a meat eater, and I had a previous culinary mishap to make up for. And, the Wednesday lamb lady at the farmer's market had provided such clear instructions: sear the chops five minutes on each end, five minutes on each side and then place the skillet in the oven at 400 degrees for five-eight minutes. Even I could handle that!
A search on Epicurious led me to a recipe for Lebanese Lamb Chops that included a rub of mashed garlic, salt, olive oil, lemon zest and baharat (a Middle-Eastern mixture of seven spices: cumin, nutmeg, cardamom, clove, black pepper, cinnamon and coriander). Searches on the Food Network Web site revealed recipes for Lebanese Mezza Dishes, including hummus and fattoush (peasant salad), and a recipe for Lebanese Yogurt Cheese (or labne).
Of course, I didn't follow the hummus and fattoush recipes exactly, only proving that one does not always have to follow the recipe. I added cumin to the hummus and cut the lemon juice a bit. The recipe had a very helpful tip: add chick pea juice for creaminess.
In the fattoush salad, I did not include lettuce because I didn't think it was necessary. I used only the cucumbers, tomatoes, green peppers, parsley, mint and sumac and replaced the green onions with red onion. I also served warm whole wheat pita smothered in olive oil and za'atar and topped with feta, a trick I learned from LP some months back. Za'atar is another spice mixture. I learned from LP on Saturday that are different types of za'atar from different regions. The container I had from Dean and Deluca did not specify.
The hummus was a huge hit, and the salad was well praised along with the bread. The yogurt cheese was, well, eh... I'll have to try that again with a different recipe. The aforementioned Malbec that KG brought went very well with the appetizers.
And the lamb...
Ah, well, if I may, readers... I impressed myself. The lamb was fantastic. And, thanks to KG's help, the red bliss potatoes with rosemary were delicious. A side of roasted carrots and fennel rounded out the meal nicely.
But the food was only half the evening. The drinks, for which I can take no credit, were just as fabulous. JC, an expert (by profession) in all things alcoholic and drinkable, brought a bottle of Borobo from Casa Lapostolle in Chile and an aerator. You may remember last week I mentioned the sommelier leading the wine class I attended said we must slurp the wine to experience the true flavor. A wine aerator does the slurping for you, which is great since I wasn't very good at slurping without inhaling.
JC showed us that the Borobo had sediment on the inside of the bottle after the first half glass was poured. The process of aerating would also help reduce the sediment that ended up in the glass. The wine was poured through the aerator into a pitcher (since I don't have a wine decanter). We tasted it both ways, and the flavor was much enhanced after aeration. It was a nice complement to the lamb.
After the dinner plates were cleared, JC unpacked his travel bar... an impressive array of syrups and bitters and muddling, mixing, stirring and shaking tools. LP had already been witness to this type of demonstration, but KG and I were new to the show. And, I, as I am sure you must know, I completely geeked out.
We ignored the plate of baklava meant to be dessert and instead went on a journey sampling at least five (maybe six?) different cocktails. My notes degraded as the evening wore on. No surprise there!
JC started with a bourbon smash, a smash being anything that has a spirit with muddled mint and lemon. JC quartered one half of a lemon, threw the four pieces into a shaker and muddled it with mint. Three ice cubes and the two ounces of Eagle Creek bourbon were added, and the shaking commenced (with no dancing, but with a nice Elvis move). The drink was poured and served on the rocks. Two sprigs of mint were slapped against the palm to release the oils and dropped on top. It was delicious and tart.
The second version of the smash also included one half ounce of agave syrup and one half ounce of Grand Marnier, making it quite a bit sweeter. LP preferred the tart version and KG the sweet, proving that enjoyment of a well-made cocktail is still dependent upon personal preference.
Our next treat was an old-fashioned, which you may not know, was the original cocktail. The key ingredients are a dark spirit, sugar and bitters. Ours was made with Eagle Creek, agave syrup and Fee's aromatic old fashioned bitters.
The following cocktail was an advanced version with bourbon, bitters and a concentrated simple syrup flavored with anise, cloves, cardamom and probably other ingredients I failed to write down. JC made the syrup. I found it to be delicious and complex.
Next up was a Manhattan, made with the creme-de-la-creme of vermouths: Carpano Antica. And, holy cow batman, that is some super tasty liquor. It has a very floral, sweet yet slightly bitter taste. I didn't even know such a vermouth existed, and now my friends, I can never go back! I now know as well that I can never again watch a bartender make a shoddy Manhattan. My days of Manhattan-innocence are over!
The recipe: two ounces bourbon, one of vermouth, two dashes of bitters and a splash of Grand Marnier.
There was also a Sazerac in the mix, which is the drink of New Orleans. It is made with an absinthe rinse, simple syrup and bourbon (though the original called for cognac).
We all tasted everything, but I laid claim to the Manhattan, KG to the second Bourbon Smash and LP to the Sazerac. JC made another Manhattan for himself. The rest of the drinks we managed to finish in between.
What a crazy wonderful evening filled with great food, fantastic drinks, a lesson in bartending and great conversation with lots of laughter. Like I said, I am a superbly lucky gastronomer.
And everyone went home with hummus and a lamb chop. : )
And, now my friends, I am off to Brooklyn for a Mardis-Gras Superbowl party at Mrs. O's. You know I don't care much for sports, but I love Mrs. O and her cooking, and it's fun excuse to spend an evening cooking and stuffing myself silly with my extended NY family.
Special thanks to VS, CK, LP, JC and KG. You guys rock!
Stay tuned. And please forgive the typos! My spell check doesn't seem to be functioning.
ok. that was a delectable entry. i don't know what i want more of right now: a cocktail, cheese, or to break out my cast iron and cook something (non) meaty on there. Hmmm. JC's travel bar makes me want to take a trip to the bar keeper...might be a good idea to head to the other side of LA again. Next time you are here, I've got places to take you. There are some jewels out here- albeit very rare- but jewels none the less. Ok, I'm rambling. I need another cockail. :)
ReplyDeleteSpeaking as a privileged attendee... I must say that CS did an amazing job Saturday night. From beginning to end, the food was beyond delicious - you can have me over anytime! The company was xciting, especially experiencing JC's travel bar (fun bag, magic bag – it took over new names as the night progressed). The food was cooked to perfection and woke up forgotten taste buds :) Hats off!!
ReplyDeleteThanks for a great dinner, kiddo! The lamb was delectable and the hummus silky good. Best of all, the company was great. Glad to be there with my bag of tricks.
ReplyDeleteOh, one thing: it was Kenny Rogers that sang the gambler, not Willie Nelson ;)
Oh, how embarrassing! Of course it was Kenny Rogers.
ReplyDelete