WHAT I DRANK ON MY HOLIDAYS

Want to see some evidence of enthusiastic but prudent alcohol intake?

Well of course you do.

Here's a Manhattan in the bar at the Hilton Garden Hotel, Heathrow.

This pic is by me, all the rest were taken by Caroline 'hot shot' Gannon

A martini at Musso and Frank in LA.:

 

A couple of 'James Bond Martinis' at The Kaiser Grill in Palm Springs:

 

Another at Lulu's, also Palm Springs - hey, it's martini kind of town.

Another at the bar in the Bonaventure, LA (the revolving restauarant was closed – and not revolving), and yes, the glass could have been a LOT fuller:

 

And a Margaraita, also in LA, at a somewhat fancy Mexican restaurant, La Conde:

 

Made by this guy:

Cheers and a happy equinox to you and yours.  

DRY AND SOUR

While in California, I did my best to emulate Kim Gordon’s dad in the drinking, if not the making of, cocktails.

Perhaps the most important stop was Musso and Frank, on Hollywood Boulevard, a place I always say is my favorite restaurant in the whole world, and I was there to raise a martini in memory of Ruben Rueda, late barman (and definitely not a mixologist) at that establishment. 

2019 is Musso and Frank’s hundred year anniversary – I bought a badge to that effect:

1919 was also the year that Prohibition started and I would have thought it was a very bad year to open a restaurant but maybe it was in fact a very good year to do it.

I went there for Saturday lunch with my pal Scott.  My martini looked like this:

I thought there might not be much of a bar crowd on a weekend lunchtime but I was wrong.  Along with the martini, I had a French dip sandwich with some of the biggest potato chips I’ve ever seen:

Scott and I found an ebullient friend, name of Gloria.  The man behind her is her long-suffering husband (and no, I don’t know what kind of relationship they have), and thought it best not to find out.

I was staying at the Biltmore downtown, where all kinds of movies and TV shows have been filmed, including Mad Men and not least National Treasure, a fact confirmed by this picture in my room, of Nick Cage and Diane Kruger.

 The Biltmore also does a damn fine martini.

I went off to the desert and although the desert doesn’t scream ‘great martini’ I spent one night in Palm Springs where a bar called Zin served me a couple of more than adequate silver bullets. This was one made with Aviation gin and two olives.

This one was made with Botanist gin and three olives, and cost a dollar more than the previous one, and was worth it

In the course of my two drinks, the barman, named Jeremiah, and I discussed soccer, rugby, cricket, and the importance of giving children music lessons at the earliest impossible moment.

I also stayed a couple of nights in LA with my pals Anthony and Elina (and their young un Astra).  Anthony is serious about many things, coffee, literature, and in this case the Trinidad Sour, made with rye whisky, lime juice and amazingly large quantities of Angostura bitters. Anthony looks like this while concocting:

And the concoction looked like this.

A SPRING IN MY SANDWICH

I don’t suppose many people go to Palm Springs specifically for the sandwiches.  They go for the desert air, the sexual fluidity and the mid-century architecture. And evidence suggests that quite a lot go for the kind of brunch that comes with “bottomless mimosas” – at least that’s available in multiple places.

       And in truth I didn’t go to Palm Springs for the sandwiches either, but you know, when I’m in my “Sandwich Man” phase, if I see a sandwich on a menu I’ll order it – that’s the kind of maverick I am.

And so, it being Christmas, a turkey sandwich seemed in order and I had mine at the International House of Pancakes (471 S Indian Canyon Drive).  You know, that name really disappointed me when I first came to America – I imagined they would serve pancakes from all over the globe - banh xeo, tagenites, dosas and what not: I was wrong).  Still the sandwich came, and it looked like this:

The IHOP website says, “In this sandwich, bacon & turkey breast are BFFs. Carved roasted turkey breast is served with our hickory-smoked bacon, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato & mayonnaise, all on magnificently marbled rye.”  Well, only up to a point.  There was, and I hesitate to say this, too much turkey, so much that it overwhelmed everything else.  In fact I think somebody in the kitchen had gone a bit festive.  The image on the menu looked like this:

There was also a “Tuna, Artichoke, & Provolone Cheese Panini, served with garlic aioli dip” at Lulu California Bistro (200 South Palm Canyon Drive).  Lulu currently has the longest menu I’ve ever seen in a restauarant.  The place changes hands once in a while.  It used to be a retro ring-a-ding-ding cabaret spot -– Nancy Sinatra once performed there – I wish I’d seen that.  The sandwich looked like this:

But a Palm Springs trip is nothing without a visit to the Sherman’s (401 E. Tahquitz Canyon Way) a Jewish Deli where on this occasion, I had, and it was a first for me, a pastrami sandwich but with latkes instead of bread.  Oh boy.  Looked like this:

One of the great features of Sherman’s is the wall of fame you pass on the way to the restroom, full of signed pictures.  It enables you to say you’ve eaten in the same place (though not at the same time) as Barry Manilow, Adam West and Neil Diamond.  David Lee Roth is there too, just out of frame.  A small pleasure, but a real one.

SOULS AND SAINTS

So it was the Day of the Dead and I was in Palm Springs – you can make up your own joke about that.  And I was sitting at the bar of the Kaiser Grille, and saw they had a “Signature Martini” menu, a list of drinks most of which are not in any conceivable sense a martini - the Antioxidant? – gimme a break.  

But they did offer the Vesper - pretty faithful to the one in Casino Royale; a variation within the form, rather than a breaking of the form.

And I ordered it and it came – and to be honest it was a little bit sweet for my tastes but that was perhaps to be expected from the Lillet.  But it was fine and it looked very good. 

But here’s the thing - and I don’t think this is especially surprising since you’re supposed to think about your dead friends on the Day of The Dead, and I’d been doing that - the bar tender looked an awful lot like my old friend Mick who died last year.  I didn’t tell the bartender this because I think it would have been weird, and I didn’t take his picture because that would have been even weirder, so you’re going to have to take my word for it, but it's true.

Looking through the files I could only find one picture of my friend Mick.  The lighting does make it look as though he could be in a hot, fiery place - actually it’s a curry house in Sheffield.  But he does look as though like he’s having a good time.  He usually did.