Thankfully made it to the Sazerac Bar in the historic Roosevelt Hotel. We weren’t going to have enough time to go, but I managed to sneak in on my last day in town. The space is just so majestic and enchanting!

The hotel itself has quite a history. Opened in 1893 as “The Grunewald”, it was followed by an expansion and name change to “The Roosevelt”. Bought by the Fairmont in the 60s (another name change), then closed indefinitely due to Katrina in 2005. After a major redesign to bring it back to its original 30s vibe, it reopened in recent years as The Roosevelt, and is now a part of the Waldorf-Astoria empire.

Pardon me if I am wrong, but from my reading I am getting that the Sazerac Bar started elsewhere in New Orleans, and did not move into the Roosevelt until 1949.

The actual bar itself is original, made of African walnut. The dark wood walls, plush furniture and floor tiles definitely transports you back in time– such vaudeville grandeur!

Original murals by Paul Niman, painted in the 1930s. Stunning.

Even the garnishes were sliced to perfection.

The Sazerac cocktail is popularly lauded as THE original cocktail (although Paystyle disputed this in his Happy Hour post), comprised of rye, bitters, absinthe, and a sugar cube.

But I have a confession to make. I did not have a Sazerac at the Sazerac Bar. SHAME ON ME. Again, my time in NOLA was running out, and I had just had a Sazerac for lunch, so I went with at Pimm’s Cup. Paystyle, forgive me.

I can’t quite figure out the relationship between the Sazerac Bar, and the Sazerac liquor company (are they related?) but there was a wall dedicated to the famous brown stuff. A bottle of this will make you real poor, real quick. Whenever I see this bottle at any bar, I get a drink with it.

Geekout Time: here’s the original bar menu. Super neat! No Sazerac, but the Ramon Gin Fizz seems to have been all the rage. Also make sure to watch the little video of the history of the bar on the website.

SAZERAC BAR
The Roosevelt Hotel
123 Baronne Street
New Orleans, LA
T: 504.648.1200

This butter is fresh off the farm and totally off the hook. I bought it from Lancaster, PA (Mennonite?) farmers of Millport Dairy, at the Union Square Greenmarket. It’s big– about 5 inches in diameter– and only $5.

We were wandering around on Frenchmen Street, an area right next to the French Quarter that gets just is known to get spankrockinwild for Mardi Gras. While we sauntered in and out of bars and talked to crazy people on the streets in colorful wigs, I saw this sign on neon poster paper.

If you think I was about to pass this up, you are crazy. We had just had massive burgers, (and god, that baked potato) at Port of Call, but damn’t, I wanted some shrimp and grits!

What Kayoko wants, Kayoko gets.

These grits were so creamy, so buttery, so… greasy, they just slipped into my mouth, off the spoon, down my throat. It was all gone in a matter of moments. It was love.

“I need more!” I said to my friends. They looked at me absolutely dumbfounded– they thought I was totally out of my mind.

So I went back. This time, I got the gumbo.

Again, this was just so damn slippery! I couldn’t help but inhale every last drop. The soupy, ricey, shrimp concoction is just so heartwarming. Basically a small bowl of cholesterol that brought me closer to my grave, but SO worth it.

I’m not sure if the truck is here all the time. The Praline Connection is an actual restaurant just down the street. It has been around for a while, and quite well known for their Soul Food, and there are several locations dotted around town.

Here’s Moses, who started talking to me when I went back for Round 2. He must have thought I was crazy.

Moses told me that the restaurant has been in the family for decades. He is opening a branch out in LA, called Cajun Grill Connection (which doesn’t come up in Google searches).

Next time, it’ll be fried chicken, for sure.

THE PRALINE CONNECTION
542 Frenchmen Street
New Orleans, LA
T: 504.943.3934

I only had three days in NOLA, but high on my things to do while I was in town was to go out for Oysters Rockefeller. New Orleans is the birthplace, afterall. When in Rome, folks. When in Rome.

Originally, I wanted to go to Antoine’s, the restaurant that first created the Oysters Rockefeller, in 1899. But Marshall declared that Antoine’s was no fun, and veered me towards Galatoire’s instead; he insisted I would enjoy the atmosphere much more.

Galatoire’s has been around since 1905 (!), right on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. We showed up around cocktail hour, so the staff was still setting up the restaurant. Can we simply sit down for some oysters and a glass of wine?, Pat asked the Maitre d’. The man, in a perfectly fitted suit, obviously very proud of his post, kindly complied.

What an enchanting restaurant indeed! Check out the wallpaper. Love the ceiling fans.

Ahhh, white linens and real silverware. While I love grubby hole- in-the-wall joints, sometimes, just sometimes, I love this too.

Thing is, the place was not stuffy at all, the way fine dining fancy places can be. All the servers were in tuxes, but it still had a laid back, welcoming vibe. I walked in wearing jeans and orange Adidas, no problem. Bottles of Tabasco and Worcester sat on every table. The balance between fancy and casual was right on.

Naturally, I wanted to order the entire menu, but we had just had a late lunch, so I refrained and limited myself to the Rockefellers and a plate of the shrimp rémoulade, which is a Creole dish. How good of me.

Now, I’m used to little dainty oysters, so you could imagine my astonishment when these babies came out. Oysters bigger than your HEAD. Or at least my fist.

The spinach (just spinach?) was a gorgeous green, mixed with breadcrumbs and lots of garlic. And of course, Herbsaint (or Pernod?). It really is such a curious combination of flavors, but somehow compliments the baked oyster so well.

I don’t have any close-ups of the shrimp rémoulade (SAD!) but these were served cold, and were absolutely wonderful. I asked the server how exactly they made them, and he went on a long soliloquy about how they boil the shrimp with a long list of spices for ten minutes, chill, then mix with the tomato-ey, mustard sauce. I loved everything about this dish.

Pat told me that it was near impossible to get a table after 7pm, and the place was always lively and packed. The staff were all exceptionally knowledgeable and seemed to have worked there forever. They possessed a sense of pride in the restaurant that was evident in how they moved through the restaurant. It is a special, magical place.

Galatoire’s, I will be back for more!

GALATOIRE’S
209 Bourbon St
New Orleans, LA
T: 504.525.2021

Found these Scampi Fries at a pub in New Orleans– have you heard of them? They’re from the UK. I thought they would taste like the Japanese Kappaebisen (shrimp chips), but they had more of a zingy citrus flavor than the scampi.

This product does not have a website, but the company did produce this absurd commercial on Youtube. MUST WATCH.

“The smell of success.” HA! I love inappropriate British humor, and how it leaks into mass marketing. It’s just ingenius. The term “scampi fries” can even be found on Urban Dictionary.

In the world of mixology, there aren’t many cocktails based on Cognac relative to the other spirits.  I can count less than twenty old recipes off the top of my head, which is really not much, considering a quarter are mere variations of each other, and another quarter or so share the stage with other spirits like Rum (Fish House Punch, Between the Sheets) and Gin (Delmonico No. 1).

The highly effective marketing of Cognac as too-haute-to-mix may have something to do with this.  Scotch producers have accomplished the same feat through shrewd marketing, though Scotch naturally lends itself to this because it’s generally a more difficult spirit to mix with than Cognac. Perhaps another reason for the comparative lack of truly good Cognac-based cocktail recipes is the dearth of creativity that’s plagued the bartending profession (minus a few bright spots here and there) since the end of Prohibition.  Luckily we’ve seen a real Cocktail Renaissance over the last decade that has thus far not shown any signs of slowing, and so we can undoubtedly expect more good things to come down the pipeline.

For the moment, however, we’ll celebrate one of the few really good Cognac-based cocktails that’s been largely forgotten over the years, the Metropole.

The Metropole is a quintessential pre-Prohibition cocktail. It’s boozy and simple so it doesn’t really mess around, and of course was invented at least a couple of decades before Prohibition took effect.

Before Times Square was sterilized by Guiliani—way before Times Square was sterilized by Guiliani—there stood the Metropole Hotel near Broadway and 43rd St.  Among the hotel’s most notable (and notorious) residents were Nicky Arnstein (international gambler/con artist/entrepreneur, played by Omar Sharif in Funny Girl) and Bat Masterson (buffalo hunter/gunslinger/gambler/sportswriter).  The hotel had a street level bar called Café Metropole which, according to cocktail historian David Wondrich, had an equally notorious clientele of “crooked ward-heelers, mid-level gamblers, palookas and their handlers, actors…and every other species of half-hand bigshot who talks sideways and never looks you in the eye except when he’s dealing from the bottom of the deck.”

It was here that the Metropole cocktail was created, and though I have no clue what a palooka is (nor how to handle one for that matter), I can tell you if this place were around today, you’d find me there tossing back a few.

Eventually bankruptcy forced the hotel to close its doors in 1912, but not without one final furbelow befitting its sordid reputation.  A week prior to shutting its doors, in the wee small hours of the morning of July 13, bookmaker (read illegal gambling-den operator) Herman “Beansy” Rosenthal was gunned down in front of the hotel by rival Jewish gangsters from the Lower East Side.  (Interestingly enough, this little bit of criminal history ties into another classic cocktail, the Jack Rose, but that’s for another day.)

Metropole
1 1/2 oz Cognac (save the fancy stuff; a VS, or even plain Brandy, will do fine)
1 1/2 oz French (Dry) vermouth
2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
1 dash orange bitters
Garnish: lemon or orange twist (optional)

Tools: barspoon and mixing glass
Glass: chilled cocktail glass or coupe (pictured)

Stir ingredients well in ice-filled mixing glass (about 30 seconds) and strain into your glass.  The old recipes don’t call for a garnish, but I sometimes find a lemon or orange twist is a nice addition.

I’ve also seen old recipes of this drink that call for a couple dashes of gomme syrup (sugar syrup with gum Arabic added to give it a smoother texture). I’m not sure which is the original, however the era in which this drink was created leads me to believe it’s the one without the syrup. Regardless, they’re both good, and at times I’ll add a dash or two of simple syrup if I feel like having a slightly sweeter drink.

The Metropole is essentially a variation of the original Dry Martini (remember that the original classic Dry Martini was equal parts Gin and French vermouth, with a dash or two of orange bitters), with the Gin replaced with Cognac, and a couple dashes of Peychaud’s bitters added.  In that same spirit I sometimes change the proportions to a 2:1 ratio of Cognac to vermouth, when I desire a stronger drink with greater Cognac flavor.

As with many classic cocktails that were created during the “Saloon Era” of American history where even the law acted lawless (see Gangs of New York, and just about every other period piece set around the mid to late 19th century), the Metropole has a unique story filled with colorful characters.  And even here where the story itself is not so much a tale of the drink’s creation, but simply the backdrop, that in itself is significant (and arguably more important) because it offers a glimpse of the types of folks who might have ordered such a drink, which in turn tells us something about the drink itself.  While we must be careful not to draw too many conclusions, it certainly counters the notion held by some that cocktails with such fancy ingredients as orange bitters are primarily the providence of geeks and aficionados.

And those who still think a real man wouldn’t be caught dead with such a drink in his hand should go look up, um, “Beansy” Rosenthal.

Here’s to old New York, the real metropole.

*Got a cocktail question? Hit me on twitter @paystyle, email me at payman(at)lifesacocktail(dot)com, or simply drop me a comment below.

Had the best burger I’ve had in my entire life in NOLA. I am being very serious right now. THE BEST.

My friends swore they had taken me to Port of Call the last time I was in town, but I definitely had never been here before. I would have remembered this burger. And this kooky pirate-themed space, for that matter.

Located on the edge of the French Quarter, the place had a shipwrecked, lost-at-sea vibe, with heavy knotted rope hanging from the ceiling, dark wood paneling, and a fishtank behind the bar. I was smitten immediately. Ahoy, matey!

Their drinks list consists of fruity rum cocktails that whisk you off into tropical fantasyland. This is my “Windjammer” (two kinds of rum, juice, “Capturing the South Pacific Isles”). Appropriately garnished with an orange and cherry.

The server came around to take our order. How would we like our burger cooked? What would we like on our complimentary baked potato?

Without any frills, my cheeseburger came heaped with a mountain of shredded yellow cheese on a regular sesame bun. It’s a half-pound of BEEF, freshly ground. And dude, check out this baked potato.

The potato only comes with butter. If you ask nicely, they give you bacon bits and green onions for free. HECK YAH! They do NOT skimp here, either.

My perfectly cooked burger, medium rare. The beef was fresh, with little char bits from the grill on the outside. The proportion between beef, cheese, lettuce, onion and tomato was spot-on. LOOK AT THIS.

Now, onto the baked potato.

Here’s Alex with my butter from the potato. Again, they don’t skimp here.

Now I honestly, truly, totally, did NOT think I would finish my burger AND the potato. But I couldn’t stop. This potato was too damn good. The butter, bacon and green onions was such an insanely food orgasmic combination of soft, crunchy and spicy. Could. Not. Stop.

Fattassery.

Port of Call is quite well-known for their burgers, as well as their steaks. It was definitely a locals hangout, with tourists sprinkled here and there. The place was definitely poppin’ for Mardi Gras, that’s for sure.

I loved the overall look and feel of the place. From the menus, the interior, the drinks– it is all so cohesive in concept and design. And I love a place that just does a few things on the menu, and does it all exceptionally. That is very important to me.

They also have these trademark plastic cups that they serve water in and you can take them home. It’s pretty ingenius, in terms of marketing.

PORT OF CALL
838 Esplanade Avenue
New Orleans, LA
T: 504.523.0120

I bought these quince blossoms in Brooklyn. Often an early bloom, quince blossoms are a promising sign of spring amidst all the snow in New York City.

I once saw a recipe on Tastespotting using rice flour instead of regular flour to make muffins. I tried making them and gave them all away, without even try one. The lucky person who tasted it told me I should sell them.

A long time has passed since then, and I decided to make them again. Unfortunately I couldn’t find the recipe there, so I Googled around, but nothing in English was convincing enough. Once I started searching around in Japanese, I found a lot of comments saying, “Any Japanese person who live in the US knows this recipe, it’s a fusion of American and Japanese dessert.”

I was not one of these people. I had never heard about baking cake with rice flour.

It’s very easy to make MOffins, especially since rice flour doesn’t lump up like regular flour. Also, there are some extra perks:

A.) It’s gluten-free for those who have weird allergies.

B.) The texture is brilliant since it’s crunchy outside, and chewy inside.

C.) It’s not sticky and won’t get tough like mochi. Very easy to transport. A win-win situation.

INGREDIENTS

3 eggs
100cc oil (little less than half a cup)
2 cups milk
150 gram sugar (little over half a cup)
1 tbsp. baking powder
2 tsp. matcha powder
1 can of prepared red beans

1 box of rice flour. This is the best kind.

You can play with sugar amount since red beans also contain a lot of sugar.

METHOD
Mix everything except for red beans.

Tip 1: Mixing eggs with oil first makes your life easier.
Tip 2: When adding matcha powder, use a tea strainer or something, otherwise they tend to lump up too much.

Pour half the batter into muffin cup, add about teaspoon of red beans, top it off with more batter. Bake for about 30 minutes at 375˚F.

I don’t like mochi, but this is absolutely awesome. Plus you don’t have to worry too much about over/under mixing the batter either. It’s definitely a fool-proof way to impress your guests or great as a baked gift.

It looks like an under-cooked muffin, but it’s just the mochi texture that gives that impression.

I will also try out other flavors (regular muffin, such as blueberry, chocolate chips, etc.) to test if it will work with this texture. Yamahomo’s MOffin shop might open up somewhere soon. Stay tuned.

Sunrise Mart is a tiny little Japanese market in the East Village with a distinct, and authentically claustrophobic Tokyo feel. Located right above St. Mark’s Bookshop, the seedy porn shop-esque entrance is easy to miss. I have spent a lot of time here.

You’ve gotta brave the rickety elevator ride up to the second story (when the fourth person crams in here, fear for your life), and when the doors open, you’re welcomed into a little world of Japanese food, condiments, produce, carry-out meals, fresh meats and fish.

Altogether, there are about seven aisles, all pushed together and quite cramped. Just like New York City. Just like Tokyo.

SUNRISE MART
29 3rd Avenue
Between 10th Street & 2nd Avenue
NYC
T: 212.598.3040