the bitter end

back in the days of collective living in west philly, one of the all-time best housemates, mary maker, bought a bottle of campari for our house bar. perhaps it was for a special cake flavor, as she was wont to experiment with, or a brief flirtation with before-dinner cocktails - the reason isn't as important as the fact that, unlike every other form of alcohol to grace the shelves in our house, this one wasn't sucked down within moments of entering the building. and because i can't bear to throw out perfectly good booze, i've spent the last few years lugging the half full bottle of crimson, syrupy liquer from one rental to another. an ounce or two has been sipped, but for the most part it has stood quietly amongst the other, more popular inhabitants of our liquor cabinets.

campari, like most bitter flavors, is foreign to the average young drinker's palate. the flavor profile isn't one we're introduced to often as children, and when we are, we're generally conditioned to equate these tastes as "medicinal," or just "gross." while i still don't think a glass of straight campari is my tipple of choice, i've come to appreciate a dose of bitterness in my older age. maybe this can be attributed to the fabled every-7-year-taste-buds-changeover (when foods and flavors you used to despise are suddenly tolerable, or even enjoyable). or maybe it was my stint at the 40th street Capogiro, whose italian-centric liquor selection included amaro of many shades and strenghts that i cautiously sampled throughout my time working there. i found that when i really gave these strange new flavors a fighting chance, instead of just assuming i wouldn't like them, some of them were really quite wonderful.

and so lately, the ancient bottle of campari in my possession has been slowly but surely disappearing. finishing the bottle - which at one time seemed like an insurmountable feat - is now immanent, and when the last drop is gone, i just might buy another. the "negroni sodi," as i've dubbed it, is my new favorite apertif of choice: just the right amount of astringent to rev up the old appetite before dinner.


Negroni Sodi - a lovingly bastardized apertif
~makes 1 cocktail

ingredients:
1 ounce good quality gin (or, whatever, you can use crappy gin if you want to)
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce campari
seltzer
slice of orange (optional)

- fill a rocks glass full of ice cubes.

- pour the gin, then slowly add the vermouth and campari.

- top with cold seltzer water, and stir gently. garnish with an orange wedge if you want to go the extra mile.

- imbibe. but be prepared! this manner of cocktail really does stimulate your appetite, so if dinner isn't for another hour or two, have some little snacks on hand!


for fancier times, the gin/vermouth/campari can be topped with sparking wine - a negroni royale! i've always love the fact that champagne or sparking wine added to almost any beverage makes it a "royale." sound so much classier than "spritzer," don't you think?

love,
emily

thanks for the dranks

even though we've been back from Houston for over 3 weeks now, i can't stop reminiscing about our adventures there. maybe it's because philadelphia has been getting pelted with all manner of frozen precipitation ever since our return, and i long to go back to that sunny patio where we sat and drank iced coffee. maybe it's because seeing our dear mary was a sharp reminder of how intensely she is missed here. or maybe it's that the routine of working, schlepping home on the septa bus, and "being cozy" (that is, staying in to avoid the cold) is making me long for another vacation.

regardless, one facet of the houston trip that has stayed with me is the creative, lovely cocktails that we sipped at a few places across town. at home, i'm rarely drawn to bars that offer the new class of craft or pre-prohibition mixed drinks. the steep price tags and my unyielding love of beer may be to blame. chick's is just a block away from my house, and i've stopped in a few times, but with no real regularity. the wonderful southwark, too, is just a stone's throw away from my abode, but i like to reserve my trips there for special occasions. the thing about vacations is, is that every day is a special occasion! especially when you're cavorting around with three of your best lady friends, it doesn't take much convincing to order a fancy drink once the sun has gone down.

while on the plane en route to texas, lauren and i took turns thumbing through the most recent issue of saveur. in their "top 100" feature, the head chef at dolce vita was quoted about some crazy salad they serve, and we said, almost simultaneously, "we should totally go there!" and so, we did. the food turned out being great, and the drinks fully held up their side of things. we ordered these appertifs before our antipasti arrived, and they primed our palates for the delicious food to come.

vodka cocktail, with lemon and basil

negroni with a big splash of prosecco

anvil, a "bar + refuge" (oh geez), located on a jumping strip of westheimer, was packed out on a friday night, and the skilled fleet of bartenders were moving like soldiers on a mission. and while the bar had some pretty whimsical and weird drinks on its menu, it was what i would consider a serious place. once you placed your order, the bartender would literally fly into action, never needing to so much as glance at a recipe or menu to double check one of the eight obscure ingredients. they poured, stirred, shook, and served with absolute precision.

"the diplomat:" gin, bonal, curacao, maraschino, orange bitters

halimah and i fought our way through the yuppie crowd and both ordered the diplomat, a heady and strong cocktail which i assume earned its namesake from the around-the-world nature of its ingredient: gin (england/the netherlands), bonal (france), curacao (the caribbean), maraschino (italy) and bitters (well, i guess those could be made anywhere). i loved the delicate glasses they were served in, which inspired me to buy a few of my own on a recent thrifting binge:

the cheapest happy hour: a homemade vodka martini

another stand out drink i had was at a funny joint, beavers, which involved lemon and marigold infused vodka, made with flowers right from the restaurant's garden. i didn't get to snap a photo of this drink, but it was a perfect balance of floral (not soapy, just fresh), citrusy, and dry. like summertime in a cup. just thinking about that little glass of joy makes me smile, and helps me to remember that there is a light at the end of this wintry tunnel.

love,

emily