Food and Drink Archives

Thursday

November 21, 2024

Cocktails for a merry, tipsy Christmas

Not to live up to Irish stereotypes, but for me, Christmas wouldn’t be complete without booze; and so, for this seasonal column, it’s only fitting that I recommend some perfect yuletide drinks to get you slammed under the Christmas tree. There are two broad bases you can work with for Christmas drinks — creamy ones and those with seasonal spices. You can do both, but these are the two broad playing fields, and just because you don’t like one kind doesn’t mean you won’t like the other. There aren’t a lot of cocktails using cream (the classic or the alcoholic Irish one); the trick is to use a good Irish cream and add it to existing non-alcoholic drinks. Want a nice boozy milkshake? Want a hot chocolate that gets you blitzed? A creamier espresso martini?

Roger Kimball

The secrets of Super Tuscans

I suspect that most readers, asked to name the most important red-wine grapes of Italy, would focus mainly on Nebbiolo, Barbera and Sangiovese, the most widely planted grape in Italy. Lovers of Sicily might also mention Nerello Mascalese and Nero D’Avola. What if I told you that some of the most spectacular wines in Italy were made from the Cabernets (Sauvignon and Franc) and Merlot? Have I gotten lost in the Médoc? No, I am in Tuscany, ancient home of the Etruscans, northwest of Rome. To be specific, I am in Bolgheri, a few miles from the Ligurian coast. On a clear day, if you cast your eyes south, you might just see Napoleon padding around the island of Elba plotting his escape. Everyone has heard of “Super Tuscans.” Not everyone knows the story of their origin.

Stephen L. Miller

Casa Bonita, the greatest restaurant in the world

Colfax Avenue is the longest commercial street in the United States. It’s over fifty-three miles long, from the foothills of the Colorado Rockies all the way through the capital of Denver and out to the Eastern plains. It is littered with single-story, seedy roadside motels, some with working neon signage and some without. Hemp shops and dispensaries have moved in now as well. East of Denver, it has gained a sort of urban-legend reputation for sex work, vagrancy, crime and as of late, migrant gang activity. However, West Colfax is legendary for another reason. Nestled in the corner of a semi-rundown strip mall in the suburb of Lakewood, next to a coin-op laundromat and a Dollar Store, sits the mythological pastel-pink stucco tower of Casa Bonita.

Monday

October 21, 2024

Clarissa Sebag-Montefiore

Dining with the Chinese food pioneers of New York

For first-time restaurateur Bolun Yao, New York is a city to experiment in: “I feel like New York is the city that is always exploring new things. If you have a new idea, you put it here.” The Chinese-born entrepreneur — who has also spent significant time in New Zealand — came to NYU to complete a master’s degree in food studies. He quickly fell in love with the fine-dining Korean scene, including the two-Michelin-starred Atomix and COTE, America’s only Michelin-starred Korean steakhouse. Both merge contemporary and traditional techniques and ingredients. “Wow, that’s really, really smart and really creative,” the twenty-eight-year-old recalls thinking. “Why is there not a Chinese restaurant that does the same thing?

Jane Stannus

Chicken soup for the souls: a feast for the dead

It’s indisputable. Food & Drink is The Spectator’s most important section. Ask yourself this: if you hadn’t eaten in days, would you have the slightest interest in perusing the deft political analysis, elevating cultural commentary and scintillating wit to be found the rest of the magazine? Without food, the only reading worth bothering with is Preparation for Death. As starvation sets in, only the two inevitables remain — Death and Taxes — and what need to worry about taxes? Tombstones have no mailboxes, shrouds no pockets. For over a millennium, November has been the month of the dead. The eleventh has been dedicated to fallen soldiers ever since World War One; but All Souls’ Day goes back much farther.

Marc Oestreich

A sip of the Vieux Carré

It’s 1951 and the Hotel Monteleone burns bright, a gilded island of light and liquor adrift in the New Orleans dark. Inside, the air is thick with the sweet tang of cigar smoke and the murmurs of polished conversation. Over in the Swan Room, the trumpets blare, their brassy notes cutting through the gentle chatter, their absence filled with the lively, gravelly voice of Louis Prima. The crowd sways in rhythm, caught between the pulse of jazz and the flicker of chandelier light. Outside, the French Quarter is still alive.

Roger Kimball

The objectively, subjectively, best vineyards in the world

The October 15 issue of the Wine Spectator carries two intriguing features. The first is a series of reports, with lavish photographs, on “The World’s Greatest Vineyards.” This list of ten superstars is followed by a cast of twenty supporting actors, wineries the editors regard as “world class” but relegate to slightly lower rungs on the scale of vinous celebrity. You might think that any such listing would be powerfully subjective. Isn’t one’s taste in wine a classic instance of de gustibus non disputandum est? Well, yes and no. You don’t have to be Immanuel Kant to appreciate that in judging wine there are some objective, or objective-like, features, as well as wholly subjective ones.

Thursday

September 12, 2024

Kate Andrews

In praise of Halloween food

If you’re hesitant to ask someone if they are American or Canadian — the latter are often offended to be mistaken for the former — ask them instead about their favorite holiday. It isn’t a foolproof method, but if they say Halloween then you know you’re talking to an American. No other nationality would choose it — because no one else gets it so right. The origins of All Hallows’ Eve belong to Ireland and Scotland. The Celtic festival Samhain was not only a huge feast to mark the start of winter: it was a day full of superstitious activity, which included bonfires to clear the air of ghosts and sacrifices to appease anything all-powerful that might curse food supplies during the dark months.

Calla Jones Corner

Culling cookbooks

How do you choose ten cookbooks out of more than a hundred collected over sixty years? With difficulty. After my beloved husband Richard died, I decided that the only place I would want to live without him was in Meursault, France. The most difficult part was having to leave behind my cookbook collection. For a food writer, it was a daunting challenge. Here is what made the cut. I obviously couldn’t get rid of my father Bob Jones’s The Outdoor Picture Cookbook, published in 1954 and launched to Americans over their morning coffee on NBC’s Today show. He demonstrated how to cook his famous grilled chuck steak as Arlene Francis and Dave Garroway looked on with a bevy of buckets at the ready in case of fire.

Jane Stannus

Kombucha future: my scoby is taking over my life

I once read the back cover of a book with a brilliant premise: a Silicon Valley wage-slave with a dull, lizard-person sort of existence suddenly has the care and feeding of a legacy sourdough starter thrust upon her. The thing promptly takes over her life and she emerges from the grayscale of soulless app-designed routine into the wild drama of an existence ruled by the whims of a yeast-ridden bacterial culture. Some are born to fermentation cultures, others acquire fermentation cultures, and yet others have fermentation cultures thrust upon them. I am among the latter school, a mostly grateful victim of fermentation-culture imposition. (Is this what they mean by Stockholm syndrome?

Kathleen Willcox

Prosecco goes posh

Compromises are odious. They reek of disappointments both large and small, when no one really gets his way — there’s never a loser per se, but also rarely a winner. But very occasionally, seemingly disparate concepts can come together and create a new thing that is technically a compromise but ends up feeling like more than the sum of its parts, thanks to felicitous, and often impossible to predict, synergies. See: the bánh mì sandwich, the Constitution of the United States, Disney and Pixar. And now: Prosecco. The world’s favorite cheap, cheerful, reliably tasty tipple is dipping its toes into profundity — and the results are surprisingly successful.

Ross Anderson

Shaking up the mojito

Barmen despise making mojitos. The descendant of various Caribbean rum-based cocktails, they only became truly popular in the early 2000s. It’s not that they’re that difficult or require too many ingredients — and they’re nothing compared to hellish drinks like the Ramos gin fizz — but the mojito has several qualities that, combined, make it intensely frustrating. Namely, the mojito is very refreshing, can be drunk quickly and looks pretty, and therefore one order will spark a rush of others.

Roger Kimball

Portuguese wines are back

Regular readers will recall my fondness for Lord Falkland’s observation that “when it is not necessary to change, it is necessary not to change.” That crisp declaration is not only elegantly framed but (in my view) true. In this it differs, it saddens me to acknowledge, from the Duke of Cambridge’s even more robust confidence that he was “opposed to all change, at any time, for whatever reason.” I am not sure whether that mot was a testimony to the duke’s utopian inclinations or merely his stubbornness. But it is sharply at odds with the realities, if not, perhaps, with the governing temperament, of most of its main actors in the world of wine.

Monday

August 19, 2024

Joseph Ogilvy

Carbonara in the land of the free

In Texas the customers have opinions, and the opinions are always right, no matter how wrong. It was carbonara that taught me this crucial lesson. The diners at the restaurant where I worked brought the American talent for innovation to modifying what I had always considered a fairly simple, self-contained dish. Can you add fried chicken? Can you add grilled shrimp? Can you add meatballs? Can you add tomato sauce and meatballs? Can you do it without guanciale, without egg, without cheese? Can you do it like normal but put a fried egg on top? Can you replace the guanciale with a fillet of salmon? The answer is always yes. At the time, I was cooking at a neighborhood Italian place in a leafy part of Austin full of well-off old hippies, professional families and Texas politicos.

Jane Stannus

Baked Alaska has become more accessible than ever

This doesn’t feel right. I am wrapping plastic around a freshly baked cake, preparatory to putting it in the freezer for thirty minutes. Then, I’m supposed to take it out and gingerly unmold a bowl of ice cream on top of it. Back into the freezer after that for another hour or so. The bowl of ice cream is lined with plastic wrap and filled with layers of raspberry sorbet, mango sorbet and chocolate ice cream. The ice cream was pressed flat to fill up all the gaps, and it went into the deep freeze two hours ago. Will it be firm enough to hold a beautiful dome shape as it unmolds onto the cake? Or will it slither and slide everywhere? I’m making Baked Alaska — or what seems to be a modern twist on it.

Ross Anderson

Trying the best coffee in the world

It was nine on a Monday morning, and whereas my fellow commuters were heading to the office, or their classrooms or a lecture hall, I was on my way to Parcafé in the Dorchester Hotel, right next to London’s bougie shopping district, Mayfair. It’s a place to buy Ferraris and Bugattis and shop at the Row and Goyard and be passed by an endless convoy of black Rolls-Royce SUVs. Waiting for me at the hotel would be a man with a little golden cup, containing a freshly brewed portion of mankind’s favorite black nectar. And his is the best, uncut stuff on the market. The man is Amir Gehl, founder and CEO of Difference Coffee, which sources some of the best, rarest coffee beans in the world.

Will Collins

Natural wine and tacos on the Hungarian Riviera

In the summer of 2020, as impatience with quarantine and the urge to get out of town gradually displaced fears of Covid, a joke circulated on Hungarian social media about Lake Balaton, a favorite destination for domestic holidaygoers. The post-quarantine stampede had driven up prices at the lake to such an extent, the joke went, that penny-pinching travelers should consider less expensive destinations, such as Monaco or the French Riviera. Until recently, Balaton had always been the inexpensive Hungarian alternative to pricier (and, during the Cold War, politically restricted) foreign getaways.

Roger Kimball

The rebirth of Greek wine

One of the great stories in the world of wine over the last half century is the rebirth of Greek wine. I say “rebirth” because wine has been an inextricable part of the story of Greece from time immemorial. What would Plato’s Symposium — literally “drinking party” — be without wine? And the story of Greek wine goes back much further than that. According to experts, wine grapes have been cultivated in Greece from about 6000 BC. Anyone who has read Homer recalls his frequent deployment of the epithet “οἶνοψ πόντος.” That is usually translated as “wine-dark sea,” though it literally means “wine-faced” or “wine-eyed” (οἶνος + ὄψις) sea. What color do you suppose “wine-dark” is?

Thursday

July 18, 2024

Teresa Mull

What’s behind all the buzz about non-alcoholic beer?

There’s nothing quite like the third swig of a gin and tonic at the end of a long summer’s day. Or of an Old-Fashioned combating Old Man Winter’s chill. The bite on the tongue. The slow burn in the belly. The gradual easing of emotional and physical tension. Except for the hangovers. There’s nothing quite like those, either. As I — sigh — age, I’ve developed a relationship with alcohol that has become increasingly love-hate: I love it, it hates me. A slight intolerance to booze, German/Irish heritage notwithstanding, has always given me a rosy flush that on round three deepens to an unflattering scarlet that could be mistaken for theatrical rouge.

Jane Stannus

Pavlova: a dessert inspired by the Dying Swan

Pastry chef Alistair Wise says never to make pavlova on a rainy day. “Just forget about it,” he advises. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to perfect-pavlova advice. Run a cut lemon around the inside of your bowl before whipping the egg whites. Don’t use fresh egg whites, but also don’t use cold egg whites. Don’t use a plastic bowl, as it may harbor grease. The bowl you do use must be scrupulously cleaned and dried... Don’t whip the whites on a “high” setting, but whatever you do, definitely don’t whip them on low. Use clean sugar — cue the desperate self-analysis of one who has never second-guessed the cleanliness of bagged sugar! Use superfine sugar, or all will be a disaster.