The Weekly Meat

TWM Book Club 2009

As the consumption marathon of the holidays roll around again, I thought I'd do my public service for the publishing industry, and run through some of my top fives lists. I'll forgo sliding into "Modern Jackass" territory (this week!) and stick to only the guilty pleasure genres that I actually read.

Buy them where you buy books.

Top 5 Sports Books (and I don't mean that in a betting sort of way)

The Game, by Ken Dryden — A classic, completely worthwhile read by a Hall of Fame goalie. Still the best (and smartest) hockey book out there.

Secretariat: The Making of a Champion, by William Nack — The Seabiscuit book is also excellent, nostalgic, and informative, but Bill Nack's book, thankfully, skips the early '70s history lesson, and instead focuses his glass on everything you need to know to love and respect the subject at hand as much as he clearly did. Read a chunk here.

Fever Pitch, by Nick Hornby — The best look into the psychology of what it means to be a sports fan by someone who actually knows.

The Sweet Science, by A.J. Liebling — I have always loved boxing, and Liebling's book is the best of the boxing books. Culled from his New Yorker essays during the golden era (he wrote for the magazine from the mid '30s till the early '60s).

Ball Four, by Jim Bouton — Because you've gotta have a baseball book on the list. Maybe the first of the real behind-the-scenes tell-all books, but much more than that. It describes honestly the life of a major leaguer better than any other.

Top 5 Books for Non-Required Reading (think non-fiction as NPR story)

Take the Cannoli, by Sarah Vowell — Thoughtful, informative, witty; just excellent. I wish I wrote the title essay in particular. Her best in my book.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames, by David Sedaris — All of Sedaris's books are good, but this is his strongest, most mature, and evocative work. Also, it contains the essay "Buddy, Can You Spare a Tie?" which made me nearly pee my pants laughing.

Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley, by Peter Guralnick — Great look at Elvis's early years.

The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History, by Jonathan Franzen — Parts had me tittering to myself in bed while my wife looked at me like I was a crazy man. So well written, it even made Franzen's penchant for bird-watching seem fascinating.

And a Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails, by Wayne Curtis — Exactly as the subtitle says; a well done, readable look at U.S. history through its most enduring booze. I'm thirsty just thinking about it.

Top 5 Disaster/Adventure Narratives (read in the warm, dry comfort of one's home)

Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mount Everest Disaster, by Jon Krakauer — Before it was properly published as a book, this came out in large chunks in the Sunday Boston Globe. I read each section intently, and at the end of each, craved the next. An honest accounting of a wretched tragedy in which bad judgment and heroism played equal parts.

In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex, by Nathaniel Philbrick — Melville didn't exactly dream up Moby Dick, he lifted history, and this tale makes Ahab look like a sap. Death and survival at sea, replete with life boats and necessary cannibalism.

The Perfect Storm: A True Story of Men Against the Sea, by Sebastian Junger — Before this book was made into a disappointingly mediocre flick starring George Clooney and Marky Mark, it was an excellent and fascinating book, in which I learned as much about meteorology, oceanography, and the commercial fishing industry as I did about simply they that go down to the sea in ships.

Black Hawk Down: A Story of Modern War, by Mark Bowden — The story of the 1993 special ops tragedy in Mogadishu in amazingly–well-researched detail. Provides an interesting window into Clinton administration foreign policy, and an operational analysis of how terrorist groups can wreak havoc in urban settings.

The Endurance: Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition, by Caroline Alexander — You'd be hard-pressed to find a more epic disaster (besides, perhaps, the whaleship Essex) than Shackleton's expedition to the South Pole. Inspiring and awesome feats of seamanship and heroism.

Sarah Palin: Going Rouge

 
I'd wish that she just go away, but ultimately, Sarah Palin is good for the Democrats — politics aside, a buzzing reminder that our country must never again elect a leader as intellectually flaccid as he-who-must-not-be-named. And so (despite the fact that I threw up a little bit in my mouth when I saw last week's Newsweek cover) I celebrate her new ghostwritten "autobiography" with great enthusiasm, and offer, once again the Sarah Palin Dictionary for all parties interested in properly deciphering the hidden messages in her text the text that someone else wrote for her, Going Rogue: An American Life.

And for shits and giggles, with a nod to Gawker, a list of others whose biographies and autobiographies carry the hyperbolic "An American Life" title or subtitle...

The usual suspects:

• George Washington
• Martha Washington
• Benjamin Franklin
• Daniel Boone

From the left:

• Elizabeth Cady Stanton

To the right:

• Andrew Mellon
• Ronald Reagan

To the even further right:

• Charles Lindbergh
• Oral Roberts
• Pat Robertson
• Condoleeza Rice

To the arts:

• WIlliam Dean Howells
• Archibald MacLeish
• D.W. Griffith
• Joe Papp
• Burt Lancaster
• Jerry Garcia

To the world of sports and medicine:

• Ben Hogan
• Dr. Spock

To such historical footnotes (Google if you desperately must know) as:

• Lucius D. Clay
• Robert Swain
• Victorio Acosta Velasco
• Eddie Rickenbacker
• Marvin J. Vann

And let's not forget:

• Guitars

Let's also not forget that our current President writes his own autobiographies. Like a big boy. Who can spell. And think.

See you next week for The Weekly Meat Book Club!

The New Mixology

A Martini is a simple drink that features a splash of dry vermouth and a jigger of gin. It's made in a cocktail shaker with ice, and served either up or on the rocks, garnished with olives. If specified, a twist of lemon can be substituted or added as garnish. A Martini that substitutes a cocktail onion as garnish is called a Gibson. That's what a Martini is; end of story.

And yet.

Since, say, the mid-'90s, cocktail joints all around the world would have you believe that a Martini is anything served "up" in a Martini glass. So, onto the scene came countless "Appletinis" and "Chocotinis" and Idiotinis ad infinitum, with booze producers lending plenty of encouragement, ginning up countless flavored vodkas and the like. Thus began The New Mixology.

Nowadays, cocktails have their own menus, ingredients upwards of five and six, and prices upwards of $10. What, with the free-flowing, easy money gone, it's not enough anymore to serve those fruitily vacant late-'90s so-called 'tinis. We have moved on to subtlety and supposed mixological artistry, in an effort to justify the high-priced cocktail in a down economy. Bars worth their fleur de sel now stock multiple bottles of flavored bitters, special house infusions, unmarked essences, and tinctures of all types.

Bygone mid-shelf mixers like Chartreuse, Dubonnet, and Bénédictine are back in vogue. And with them, a veritable witch's cauldron-like miasma of ingredients both flowery and savory: agave, hibiscus, elderflower, cucumber, pomegranate, peach nectar, blueberries, mocha, cinnamon, eye of newt, ear of toad, etc.

Everyone's gotta be an artist chef molecular chemist these days?

Screaming Viking anyone?

If such new drink menu results were universally spectacular, I might not have a bad word to say about this thing, but I tasted an unironic cocktail recently that strongly reminded me of Yoo-Hoo. Only $9 more expensive. Might as well stay home and make yourself a Laverne DiFazio milkshake for that kind of cheddar.

Back in the late '80s and early '90s, I spent a few summers tending bar at an upscale Italian place in an upscale summer destination town. I came from a school of no-fuss bartending (call it the Don Draper school). Ice, booze, possibly a mixer; end of story. That's the way my family drank — and still does — and that's the way I worked the bar, serving up mainly Martinis, Manhattans, Bloody Marys, the occasional Gimlet or Old Fashioned.

I made drinks properly, but I was old school. When I called myself a "mixologist," I did so tongue in cheek. I was willing to muddle an Old Fashioned, but if some chirpy young thing wanted a "frozen" Daquiri, even on a dead night, I would apologize that "Sorry, the blender's broken." A Daquiri is a basic drink (lime, rum, sour, as I made it), and I made it simply and quickly, without dirtying a blender I would later have to clean.

There's an old saying that a drink should have no more than two ingredients; ice is an ingredient.

There's another old saying that Martinis are like breasts (one's not enough; three is too many). But I digress.

It was the end of the '80s after all, so I was faced with the occasional order for a Long Island Iced Tea — which, in fact, is a fantastic drink to make. Drinking it's another story. But it's a bartender's drink. Five liquors in it, and yet it can be mixed faster than a simple Martini. Because those five clear liquors live right in the "well" behind the bar — all within reach, all right next to each other — in bottles with pourers, and along with the sour mix can be poured two at a time in three easy installments.

For me, bartending was about a certain amount of style and finesse, but it was more about professionalism and efficiency. People at a bar are thirsty people. And people at a restaurant bar are thirsty, hungry people. Yet, it would seem that we present-day bar-sitters are presumed to be patient patrons of the meditative arts.

Slow Food? Sure. But what we're now seeing amounts to a Slow Booze movement. Because it takes precious time to hand-crush ice to order, use middle- and top-shelf bottles without pourers, add extracts with eyedroppers, singe the peels of organic blood oranges, and so on.

Sure, this could all be a fad. But restaurant fads can linger for ages. The faux-Polynesian influx of the '50s and '60s stuck around well into my 1970s youth — and, arguably, still has a hand in today's nonsense. And even with fading fads, certain details stick around, undead. Out went the mid-'90s swing-dance moment, but the shiny, happy cocktails stuck with us, and spawned offspring.

And now we're in the era of celebrity drink consultants who get paid to revamp cocktail menus. Please. Spare me. Call a spade a spade. And don't overcharge me for it.

Hey bartender! I've done your job and prided myself on it. But it's neither rocket (nor food) science. Now get your ass down to my end of the bar. My glass is empty.

Deconstructed Menu

Shortly after food became not about nutrients but nutritionism, food became about chefs, and restaurants became about not the diners themselves, but the dining experience. Blame it on globalization, the excess of the '90s, cable TV and the Food Network, the advent of the chef as celebrity, but this food moment is here to stay awhile. Needless to say, a pox is upon us.

With all due feigned humility, the menu...

ABOUT THE CHEF

The chef is youngish, but old enough; good-looking, but not too good-looking — camera-ready in a working kitchen sort of way. The chef has a food Philosophy. The chef uses only fresh, seasonal ingredients, sown and reaped by hydroponically-grown local virgins. Relax. The chef and staff will take care of you for the next hour and forty-five minutes until our next reservation; enjoy our soul-free "housemade" delicacies, exquisitely-chosen modifiers, and gratis italics Française e Italiano. You, dear friend, are in the hands of a maestro.

Chef's Whim 12-Course Seasonal Tasting Experience

Available Monday through Tuesday, for groups of ten or more; please book two weeks in advance

SALADS AND SMALL PLATES

Deconstructed Caesar Salad
We supply the head of Romaine, croutons du hier soir, anchovies, raw egg, olive oil, mustard, Worcestershire sauce, and garlic; you do the rest

Simple Salad
Mesclun greens with fresh market figs, macerated pomegranate seeds, applewood-smoked bacon, and spiced nuts in a champagne balsalmic mignonette with toasted elephant garlic chips and a three-cheese (cow, sheep, goat) foam

House Charcuterie Plate (Because these days, how can we not?)
With herb-infused-then-salt-cured olives stuffed with pickled smoked pimientos, candied mustard fruit, and house giardiniera

Poor Country Street Food
Cultural food-slumming po' boy du jour with house-pickled red herring

Bohemian Bacalao Sliders
Salted fish that has subsequently been soaked in water to de-salinate it (since preservation by salt is no longer necessary in this age of refrigeration) and served in ironic White Castle fashion

Rillettes des Vegetables
With toast points and artful shmears of jus de quelque choses

Deviled Eggs Flight
Tastes of the world meet American Midwest family picnic

Shrimp Mousseline
With crême fraiche on hand-carved spoons of Belgian endive

House Signature Confit of Thusandsuch
It is the chef's Philosophy to honor the farm-raised animals that give their lives for our pleasure by using as much of them as we can; with hand-cut liquid nitrogen potato chips

SLIGHTLY BIGGER PLATES

Locally-Raised Obscure Heritage Fowl (say, Happy Farms West African Pearl Guinea Hen)
Served with further unnecessary adjectives and young vegetables

Bore Boar Four Ways:
- Seared ethnic-seasoning–crusted loin
- Antiquated, tough cut braised till tender
- Unapologetically-fried belly
- Tender poached cheeks

Steak Frites
Grass-fed hanger steak with pink and green peppercorns, just-so demi-glace drizzle, and ubiquitous duck fat pommes de terre

Perfunctory Vegetarian Option
Terrine of roasted farm-fresh petites vegetables de saison with farro and adjective adjective local dairy producer cheese

Dayboat Fish of the Moment
This year's hip fish (Chilean Sea Bass, Bigeye Tuna, ad nauseum), crusted with toasted Central American whole grains and served rare with a splash of house-infused spirit of the moment

Hand-Rolled Pasta
Lightly pan-toasted vegetable spice tagliatelle with salt-cured meat and foraged mushrooms, topped with a gently poached organic egg, and shaved herb cheese

OVERPRICED SIDES

White asparagus with chlorophyll foam
Roasted root vegetables with house-candied nuts
Seared small leaves with smoked pork fat
Twice-buttered tubers (with crustacean, add Market Price)
Duck fat pommes de terre

DESSERT PLATES

Hyperbole by Chocolate
Seriously, you will "die" if you eat this

Market Tarte Tatin de Saison
Butter-fed fruits du chef du monde

Housemade Ice Cream
Two flavors, like blood orange and rosewater, or cumin seed and green tea, that are individually somewhat interesting but do not actually taste good together

Artisanal Farmhouse Fromagerie Plate
Surprisingly small amounts of perfect, hand-selected cheese, served with minute housemade crackers and fruit paste de España