Tag Archives: Margarita

The Porn Issue: Fifty Shades of Martinis

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The Olympics are over. It’s been rather good – typically quirky, occasionally brilliant and thoroughly British. The underground transport system, the world’s oldest, didn’t fall over. The weather wasn’t awful. The TV coverage was full of Brits bringing home medals. What you didn’t see on TV however, is what went on in the Olympic Village. Take over ten thousand body beautiful, incredibly fit, highly charged men and women and put them together, far from home. Have them abstain from sex before competition as part of their training regime. Then pull the plug. Distribute 150,000 condoms, stir in an atmosphere of celebration and you get one randy party! There was a serious amount of very athletic sex going on in Stratford.

“That” Durex condom advertisement for the London Olympics

Sex was on my mind as I read the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy I had been sent to review. Unless you’ve been on another planet it’s hard to ignore the publishing phenomenon of British writer E.L.James’s “mommy porn”. The books are on best seller lists on both sides of the Atlantic. Film rights have been negotiated for all three books. Over five million copies have been sold in the UK alone – making it a bigger seller than the Harry Potter books. Boy wizards are no match for horny women. Publishing Houses are hailing the birth of a new genre of literature and introducing dozens of smutty new women authors to our bookshelves.

Fifty Shades of Grey is porn for women, written (rather poorly) by a woman. Apparently most porn is poorly written, so no one is unduly worried about the quality of the writing.

The book is about a pretty young thing who is finishing college in America. She meets a young, devilishly handsome billionaire. She is a virgin; they apparently still make them at American universities. He has an interesting side line in S&M and does things with whips and handcuffs that would make a virgin blush. Before long our heroine is cuffed, whipped and deflowered. Her inner goddess (apparently every woman has one) responds by turning joyful somersaults. They have regular, slightly kinky sex for two more volumes with a few jealous females and bad guys showing up every few chapters.

The gentlemen who run the world’s publishing houses have woken up to the fact that women are sexual creatures. The question is, are women merely comfortable being seen reading porn on public transport or are there now whips and handcuffs in every woman’s bedside drawer, nestling amongst the usual battery operated emergency kit? Are women beginning to think about sex every 3 seconds the way men do?

Who knows what lies beyond the door marked “come”?

To investigate, I took a posse of women friends to a Soho sex shop. The neon signs promised adult video, peep shows and private dances. Above the door a sign said “come”. As one reviewer put it, it’s the kind of place where you expect to see sad looking men with stained shoes leaving furtively, clutching at brown paper bags full of bouncing boobs. You want to shout at them, “Yo mate, it’s 2012, go try the Internet. Full of boobs!”

Friendly young things in fishnets, feathered trilbies and not much else, greeted us warmly. My women friends were nervous. Downstairs in the dimly lit basement, the decor was surreal. There were upturned pianos, children’s furniture hanging from the ceiling, taxidermy, curtained off alcoves and what might have been voodoo dolls. The sound system was pumping out a sexy mix of old school rock and salsa.

We were at La Bodega Negra, the Mexican restaurant whose party trick involves the aforementioned entrance (Bodega Negra also has a cafe next door with a more conventional entrance). It is the brainchild of “cultural engineer” Serge Becker who also created La Esquina in New York City. The women visibly relaxed as we ordered our first round of margaritas. The bar stocks eight good brands of tequila in 22 variants. Tapatio and Herradura Seleccion Suprema occupy the top shelf. There is a short wine list and a selection of very good Mexican beers.

The slightly disturbing decor at La Bodega Negra

Five of the eight cocktails on the menu are mezcal/tequila based. The standard margaritas were watery and frankly disappointing. We sent them back and ordered a few more cocktails. The Pepino, which is twist on a margarita with added cucumber water and jalapeno had a decent spicy kick. The ancho mojito substitutes mezcal/tequila for rum and tonic water for soda. It was complex and tasty – a successful reinterpretation of the standard mojito.

Some of the food was very good. Other dishes were passable. The spicy yellow fin tuna ceviche had mouth filling flavour. Crab tostaditas were piled high with flavourful fresh crab meat, adding coriander, mango and lime as garnish. The BBQ octopus el negro was briny and tender – a standout dish. Seared steak tacos and the chorizo/squash/corn taco didn’t do much for me. The steak had little flavour and the chorizo didn’t add the punch to the squash/corn combination that it should have. The pork belly with mezcal and salsa verde brought welcome touches of new flavour to what has become a cliched restaurant dish.

La Bodega Negra is a fun “occasion” restaurant. The service is superb, the music is good and the atmosphere is hip and on trend. It doesn’t have the best Mexican food and drink in London – I still prefer the tiny Crazy Homies in Notting Hill. What La Bodega Negra does offer is a fun night out, at least for two hours before they turn your table over…

By the time we were ready to leave my female friends had forgotten about the sex shop entrance. They thought it was confusing and didn’t really want the whole edgy sex thing. They’d all read Fifty Shades but it was all firmly shelved under fantasy. We wandered across to Ronnie Scott’s for some old school jazz and a bottle of champagne. This was much more their style. Mine too.

Further Reading

La Bodega Negra gets mixed reviews from Bloggers.  A Rather Unusual Chinaman and Lay My Table have interesting perspectives.  A sexy alternative for dinner in London is the Playboy Club – yes, it’s back, complete with bunny girls! You don’t have to be a member to use the restaurant.  If you are in the mood for something naughtier, check out the Evening Standard’s guide to London’s sexiest places for illicit liaisons. The Evening Standard also has guides to the sexiest places for exhibitionists, fetishists and….intellectuals.  Have fun!

La Bodega Negra on Urbanspoon

Square Meal

My Dinner with Nigella

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Being the Chancellor of the Exchequer (a.k.a Finance Minister) is a shitty job. In hard times you get blamed for the tough decisions that have to be taken. In good times everybody else takes the credit. Being the child of a reviled public figure can’t be much fun. Most such offspring shun the limelight and move to the country to do whatever people do in the country. I’m told that cow tipping and wife swapping are popular pastimes in the shires.

Nigel Lawson was an outstanding Chancellor of the Exchequer under Margaret Thatcher. He was part of the Tory tribe who liberalised capital markets, lowered taxes, busted the unions and saved Britain from becoming the basket case of Europe. They helped turn Britain from a nation of whining Fabian socialists to a shining beacon for free market capitalism. The hemp and lentil brigade who’d rather we live on welfare, recycle cigarette butts and subsist on roots and seeds, hated him. His daughter Nigella’s riposte is to live well, surely the best revenge. Some of you may have seen a version of the email below:

Living well is the best revenge

Nigella was dining at the next table from mine at Dabbous, Ollie Dabbous’s eponymous new restaurant. My dinner companion used to be a professional diving instructor before he came up for air and got sucked into the city.  Long years of diving have given him perfect, virtually Vitruvian proportions.  Vitruvian man wistfully commented that Nigella looked twenty years younger than her pictures. Her Earth Mother meets Marilyn Monroe looks have that effect on most people. The ultra hip wait staff, straight and gay, went doolally around her.

Ollie Dabbous trained with Raymond Blanc at Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, staged at The Fat Duck and cheffed at Texture. These are all Michelin starred restaurants. He is young (31) and adept at the modern scientific methods of cooking perfected by Heston Blumenthal at the Fat Duck. You wouldn’t know it however, from the way the food is presented; it is unpretentious with no overweening explanations of technique. The overwhelming impression of Dabbous is of youth, confidence, technical brilliance and unmitigated joy in serving very, very good food.

The Coddled Free Range Hen Egg at Dabbous. Never known a cock to lay one.

We had the tasting menu. It included a coddled egg; the egg is lightly scrambled and mixed with wild mushrooms and smoked butter before being returned to its shell. These are flavours that were made for each other. It looked amazing and tasted divine. Critics rave about the barbecued Iberico pork. I could go on about the food, but the Bacchanalian delights are what I came for.

The restaurant on the ground floor has an industrial warehouse décor circa 1990. It’s dark with cold surfaces and hard edges. The basement bar is even darker; Oskar’s Bar is run by Oskar Kinberg formerly of the Cuckoo Club. He has developed a kick ass cocktail list. The Mellow Yellow had a base of Cazadores Blanco tequila, with Cointreau, cigar syrup, lime juice mellowed with yellow pepper, served in a whisky rinsed glass. There’s a lot going on in this drink and plenty that could go wrong, but it worked. I had a fleeting hint of cigar on the nose before tasting a very rich margarita. A masculine drink. The Accomplice is made with Diplomatico Blanco rum, greengage liqueur, elderflower cordial, lime juice, agave syrup and bitters, served straight up and rubbed with sage. There is a nice sharpness on the tongue from the greengage with sage and bitters after-notes.

Dabbous has been open since February 2012, but has already gained a reputation for serving the best Negroni in town. Charlie who was bartending, reached for a special barrel of Negroni he’s been ageing for six weeks. Ageing cocktails is not new, but it is of the moment – the ingredients oxidise and react with the wood in the barrel to create a more complex, but still recognizable drink. Charlie uses Sacred gin (a British boutique gin brewed near my home) and Antica Formula vermouth in his Negroni. The drink was pleasantly bitter in the mouth with a long finish. We had it straight up. I’d never known ice to do much more than chill a drink. However, when Charlie introduced ice into the mix, the flavor actually changed. The drink tasted wetter, the ingredients somehow bound together more tightly, the flavor was smoother. I think I had three.

Industrial chic

Dabbous is accessible, friendly and shockingly inexpensive. Starters cost around £7 (US $11) and mains are around £15 (US $23). The drinks were mostly around £8.50 (US $13). The foodie staff knows how good the food and drink is and want you to enjoy it. They don’t turn the tables here – there is just one sitting for dinner. You are encouraged to dally. This is also the hottest restaurant in London. The chances of Silvio Berlusconi being appointed to run a home for recovering nymphomaniacs are greater than your ability to get a reservation here before March 2013. It is worth the wait. Nigella loved it.

Further Reading

Blogger reviews of Dabbous from Eats, Treats and Leaves and Twelve Point Five Percent. Mixologist Jeffrey Morganthaler discusses ageing cocktails and provides directions for barrel ageing Negroni cocktails.  You don’t have to fill an entire whiskey barrel with booze – most bars in London use small wooden barrels of a few litres in capacity of the type traditionally made by Eastern European Coopers.
Dabbous on Urbanspoon

The Opera Singer, the Investment Banker and the Communist

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My father loved opera and our home in Sri Lanka was filled with music. Gigli, Callas, Caruso and Pavorotti would boom out of the stereo, its ancient valves gently glowing as the turntable or the open reel tape deck would spin out well loved arias. At family events my father would be pressed to exercise his soaring tenor, by then usually mellowed by a wee dram of Scotland’s finest. There is a much retold family legend of my father being stopped in post war Italy without the right papers and charming his way out of the situation by singing to the police in Italian!

Like my father, opera singers tend to be larger than life characters. They also tend to be rather large, enjoying to the fullest their appetite for life’s finest. Many are gourmands. Spanish opera singer Placido Domingo celebrated his love of Mexican food and his friendship with Mexican born chef Richard Sandoval by opening Pampano, a Mexican restaurant in New York City. Sandoval’s restaurant career started 15 years ago with Maya, the elaborate Mexican restaurant and tequila bar on First Avenue and has now expanded to 30 restaurants around the world. Maya even has a branch in Dubai. Very dish dashing. Sandoval is frequently cited amongst the top Mexican chefs in the US and Pampano as one of the best Mexican restaurants in New York City.

I was recently at Pampano, in the Amster Yard neighbourhood of Manhattan. This mid town area on the east side of the island housed stables in the 19th century. After World War 2, designer James Amster created a compound as a haven for creative types, attracting amongst others the interior decorator Billy Baldwin, fashion designer Norman Norell and sculptor Isamu Noguchi as residents. Today the yard is being sensitively redeveloped by the Instituto Cervantes, a not for profit cultural foundation backed by the Spanish government. These days that usually means German taxpayers are footing the bill.

I was with the Swattie and the Hybrid Banker. The Swattie is a recovering communist trained at a secret branch of the Kremlin, on the Crum river in Pennsylvania. The Hybrid Banker is a gentle giant who drives only hybrid cars and might hug a tree if he thought no one was watching. His bank famously provided free banking services to the Occupy Wall Street movement. Sadly, since the Occupiers thought that work was a four letter word, they had no money and the bank wouldn’t accept Starbucks coupons.

Beachfront decor on 49th Street

Pampano occupies a two storey building with a bar and taqueria on the ground floor and the restaurant upstairs. The upstairs space is light and airy, with a dramatic white on white beach theme. The glass roof has white canvas blinds through which diffused sunlight spills into the room. There are old fashioned paddle fans and white plaster reliefs of palm trees. An outdoor dining area is decorated with metal fish in bright Miro colours .The decor transports you from 49th street to a beach front, the soft guitar music adding a definitive Latin lilt.

The drinks list naturally focuses on tequila. The Agave Oro Margarita uses ultra premium Gran Centenario Silver tequila, agavero and agave nectar. They don’t make margaritas quite like this on the other side of the pond. The flavour was nicely rounded with a depth and a complexity rarely found in this cocktail. The lime was present in the mouth, but so was a delicate sweetness. I had two drinks, just to make sure I liked it.

This is a creative drinks list and the Mojito Martini was another hit. Made with white rum, mint and lime, it is topped with cava and garnished with a red grape. The initial sip is full of cava, but the bite of rum and lime is present as the sparkle hits the back of the throat. The shredded mint floating on the surface of the drink generates a lovely fragrance.

I could have stayed all afternoon drinking, but lunch was on the agenda. It is hard to find good Mexican food in Europe. Chef Sandoval does his birth nation proud with creative combinations that retain cultural authenticity.

This is a coastal Mexican seafood menu, punctuated with chillies. They are all present on the menu; from the flavourful anchos, anaheims, guajillos and chipotles to the fiery habaneros and jalapenos. Sandoval uses chillies with a deft touch, enhancing flavours without overwhelming them. Crispy jalapenos bring a piquancy to fluke (aka summer flounder), with a boniata puree nicely offsetting the chilli in this flaky white fish dish. Guajillo peppers add complex green tea and berry overtones to mixed seafood stuffed into a poblano chilli in the Chile Relleno.

It’s been a while since I saw Placido Domingo perform. He is past his prime now but his friend Sandoval is keeping his restaurant investment safe. Eat, drink and be merry! My father’s musical genes have been passed and enhanced in my daughter whose work appears here. Enjoy!

Further Reading

Blogger reviews of Pampano from The Gotham Palate and Boo in London. Watch and listen to Placido Domingo singing the much loved Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot.

Pampano New York on Urbanspoon

Why We Drink: Tales of Margaritaville and Frat Parties

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This is my 20th post for Martini Mandate.  In researching this blog I have expended many pleasant hours in some fine bars around the world, drinking fabulous cocktails.  In the search for the hippest new bar or the coolest new cocktail we sometimes forget why we drink.  We drink because it is plain bloody fun.  It is how we relax after a hard day.  It is how we let out hair down with friends.  It is how we celebrate.  It frequently substitutes for foreplay.

John Slattery as Roger in Mad Men: “My generation, we drink because it’s good, because it feels better than unbuttoning your collar, because we deserve it. We drink because it is what men do.”

Some of my fondest drinking memories involve that most famous tequila based cocktail, the margarita.  I went to university at a small liberal arts college outside Philadelphia.  The campus was located in a “dry town”, i.e. no alcohol could be sold either in stores or in restaurants.  To get around this vexing legal problem the school had a sensible policy of providing free booze at all campus parties.  My fraternity, Delta Upsilon, threw some of the more outrageous parties on campus, usually resulting in some ruckus with the campus administration or the local police.  The parties were fun, they were memorable and someone usually got hurt.  Apart from the usual toga parties and beer slides (men in underwear competing to see how far they could slide on a beer lubricated floor), our Margaritaville parties were a featured item on the campus social calendar.

The parties were themed after the song Margaritaville, by Jimmy Buffett.  Florida based Buffett (with his band the Coral Reefers…) mostly sings about eating, drinking, sunbathing, getting tattooed, and sleeping with Mexican cuties.  Margaritaville aside, his other hits include “Cheeseburger in Paradise” and the classic anthem “Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw“.  I know the words to these songs by heart – do click on the links, it’ll take you back to a kindler, gentler time!

The DU Margaritaville parties usually involved mixing the classic  ”Upside Down Margarita”.  This is a delicately mixed cocktail made to the classic 3:2:1 ratio of spirits (tequila), sweet liqueur (triple sec) and citrus (lime juice).  The drinker relaxes in a low chair with his head lolling backwards, supported by the bartender (or a girlfriend if available).  A protective towel is placed around his neck and shirt front, much as in a barber shop.  The cocktail ingredients are then poured directly into the drinker’s mouth; a highly skilled process since bartenders vie to pour the individual ingredients from a great height without splashing.  The drinker’s head is gently shaken to blend the ingredients before they are swallowed.  This to me, encapsulates the true spirit of drinking.  The company of friends, camaraderie and a bloody good time.

There are many bars in London that make superbly crafted margaritas, using 100% agave tequila and finely honed techniques. My favourites include the Mandarin Bar at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel which makes many cocktails themed after several cities around the globe where the Mandarin Oriental has a presence. Go there for unique twists on familiar drinks – the sake based drinks from the Japanese section of the cocktail menu are particularly interesting. The bar itself is shaped like a catwalk and the walls of beige silk create a rich, inviting cocktail lounge.  Of course the burgers at Bar Boulud in the same hotel are a good excuse to pop downstairs to the restaurant. The lounge at Novikov , the Russian owned uber restaurant makes a great margarita as well, served by impossibly tall Eastern European women with a good command of Russian.

For good old fashioned fun though, I like the margaritas at Cafe Pacifico. I first visited here in the early 1990′s when London was a rather barren place. This is not a trendy bar – it’s actually an Aussie owned dive operating out of what was once a banana warehouse in Covent Garden.  The serving staff consists of good humoured American and Australian college students. The margaritas are as I remember them – best ordered by the jug. The nachos are plentiful and cheap. The food is nothing to write home about, but will help absorb the alcohol. It’s the kind of place where it’s hard not to have a good time. Go with friends – or make some new ones. The spirit of Margaritaville is alive and well in London!

Further Reading

Mixing the classic margarita.  This video from Mr Barrelproof echews the normal 3:2:1 formula for a 2:1:1 variant.  It works pretty well.  Try this at home.

Read a review of Bar Boulud from the blog In Pursuit of Food.

Cafe Pacifico on Urbanspoon