Saturday, May 25, 2013

Drinking Gatsby

In which I jump on a bandwagon. 

I thought it would be fun to explore the cocktails in this book. I think as much as the wealth and opulence of the characters speak to the larger themes in the work, so do the massive amounts of liquor and drinks. As I'm sure you are all well aware The Great Gatsby takes place in the prohibition era, a time when liquor was eradicated in a misguided effort to return America to simpler, valued times, which of course only led to everyone wanting to drink more. Gatsby's access to massive amounts of liquor speak to his character on two levels: one his wealth of course, but two it feeds the rumor that his wealth came from bootlegging. There is the suggestion that he illegally sells liquor to drug stores that he owns. For a small fee, doctors would prescribe their patients whiskey for just about any ailment, and some pharmacists would even sell forged prescriptions to their customers.

The first drink is actually one that I am insinuating would be served at the Gatsby home.
Chapter three, the chapter that introduces us to the Great Gatsby. 
"There was music rom my neighbor's house through the summer night. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars."
"Every Friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer in New York--every Monday these saw oranges and lemons left his back door in a pyramid of pulpless halves. There was a machine in the kitchen which could extract the juice of two hundred oranges in half an hour, if a little button was pressed two hundred times by a butler's thumb."
I'd like to think that some of those oranges were used for Mimosa's. Mimosa's were "invented" in Paris in 1924 (a variation on a Buck's Fizz which was 2 parts orange juice to one pat champagne), and seeing as how the "new rich" were up with the trends it seems logical that they would have been served either during one of his parties or for the folks that stayed later and needed a little "hair of the dog" to get them on their way. 
Mimosa's are pretty simple, half champagne, half orange juice. As you can see I do not have a fancy machine to juice my oranges, nor a butler to assist me. I simply have an old fashioned juicer and a strong upper arm. 
I juiced about six oranges which yielded plenty of juice. 

I also brought a fairly cheap champagne for two reasons, one, I am not Gatsby so therefore I am not rich, and two I figured if you are going to mix sweet juice into it anyway why bother with anything fancy. 

Besides Barefoot champagne is perfectly acceptable (as I drank the rest of the bottle afterwards and found it tolerable).


My next drink was the Gin Rickey. It was well known that Fitzgerald loved gin as he felt that it was the one liquor that was undetectable on the breath, in fact this is what a lot of people during the prohibition felt about gin, hence the heavy herbal aromatics of it. 
During chapter seven, the meatiest of all the chapters, where all the high action occurs, Gatsby is over Daisy and Tom's house for lunch. Gatsby and Daisy of course can't keep their eyes off each other but the meeting over all is quite awkward. The day itself is already hot, and then Daisy's daughter is brought out and tensions begin to rise, as Gatsby had no idea of the child. 
"With a reluctant backward glance the well-diciplined child held her nurse's hand and was pulled out the door, just as Tom came back, preceding four gin rickeys that clicked full of ice. Gatsby took up his drink. "They certainly look cool," he said, with visible tension. We drank with long greedy swallows."
Rickey's were definitely the drink of the day in Fitzgerald's time as they provided pure refreshment in the pre-air-conditioned era. I can imagine that despite the physical heat that the characters were sitting in, Gatsby himself was growing hotter and hotter as the luncheon trailed on. He was sitting in a room with his one true love, after being introduced to her daughter of which he had no knowledge of, all the while her husband sits across from him. Greedy swallows, indeed.

Rickey's themselves are basically drinks with squeezed fresh lime juice and carbonated water. 
Fresh squeezed lime juice


Basically pour 1.5oz of gin over ice, add the juice of half a lime and fill with carbonated water. Toss in a few lime wedges and you have yourself a cold gin rickey. 

Now, I've never been much of a gin drinker myself, but I have to say this drink might just change that. 


Finally we have the Mint Julep. This drink also appears in the all important chapter seven. After noticing how passionately Gatsby stares at his wife, Tom, always itching for a confrontation, suggests that they all drive into New York City together. It's oppressively hot and the group decided to take up a room at the Plaza Hotel in order to cool down a little. Now of course they couldn't just call up room service and order some drinks sent up to the room, but Tom came prepared, in the room he unrolls a bottle of whiskey from a towel. Also, as the group gathers in the room, Tom himself is doing his best to call out Gatsby in every way, trying to expose him as a fraud and belittle him in front of Daisy. 
"That's a great expression of yours, isn't it?" said Tom sharply. "What is?" "All this 'old sport business. Where'd you pick that up?" "Now here Tom," said Daisy, turning around from the mirror, "if you're going to make personal remarks i won't stay here a minute. Call up and order some ice and mint for the julep."

Of course they never actually drink the juleps. Even as the ingredients arrive the argument between Gatsby and Tom accelerates and Daisy is confronted, and...well the novel reaches its climax, this is where I sound like your mother and tell you to go read the book.
I can't rightly say that the events would not have turned out the way they did if the juleps had been consumed. Though in drinking them I can see the need to order one up when things get hot and sticky, both physically and in conversation. Are you sensing a theme here? It seems to me that Fitzgerald wanted to make everyone as uncomfortable as possible, so like a good writer he turned up the heat and let it happen! Also a small but very important detail, Daisy was born in Louisville, Kentucky. Perhaps Fitzgerald wanted to hint at Daisy's southern roots and in her need to make peace he had her suggest the drink of her hometown. Maybe. 
Mint Juleps are pretty easy. You just need some Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey, mint, simple syrup and crushed ice. Having crushed ice is important as the small chips give the drink it's slushy effect. 

Just take 4-5 mint leaves and muddle them with .5oz of simple syrup (to make simple syrup just melt equal parts sugar and boiling water, stir until it dissolves). Add 2.5oz of bourbon and fill the cup to the brim with crushed ice. Stir and stir, until your glass feel frosty. Garnish with a spring of mint. 

At first sip the cloying sweetness fights with the burn of the whiskey, my suggestion is to let the drink rest a minute or two. This will let the ice melt for a minute, after that the whole drink mellows out and becomes a sweet refreshing drink.

So friends, summer is coming (any day now Chicago!) and I suggest mixing a few of these bad boys up. Hopefully you won't have a heated life changing confrontation while drinking one, but if you do at least you'll be refreshed.

Cheers!



Monday, May 13, 2013

The Elegance of the Gyoza


Hey check it out, I'm actually doing a book this week that ISN’T an English children’s book. Jeez, a few weeks into this thing and already I fell into a rut. Never fear this week we are going intercontinental! The Elegance of the Hedgehog!



A lovely book written by Muriel Barbery, Hedgehog tells the story of both Renee, a short, plump and cranky concierge of an elegant hotel, and Paloma, an exceedingly smart 12 year old girl, who having come to terms with life’s futility has decided to end her life on her 13th birthday who lives on the top floor of the hotel. The book jumps between both of the women as they meet each other, and find kindred spirits in each other. 
Renee is one of my favorite characters, she is an autodidact in literature and philosophy, but conceals it to avoid the condemnation of the building's tenants. Likewise, she wants to be alone to avoid her tenants' curiosity. She pretends to indulge in concierge-type food and low-quality television, while in her back room she actually enjoys high-quality food, listens to opera, and reads works by Leo Tolstoy and Edmund Husserl. Her perspective is that "to be poor, ugly and, moreover, intelligent condemns one, in our society, to a dark and disillusioned life, a condition one ought to accept at an early age"
Her carefully crafted life is turned upside-down when the empty apartment on the second floor is rented by a wealthy Japanese businessman named Kakuro Ozu. He shares Paloma’s fascination with Renee and both suspect her inner refinement. One evening Ozu invites Renee up to his apartment for dinner, wanting to get to know her better.


““It’s certainly not boring with you around,” is the first thing Monsieur Ozu says to me once we are back in the kitchen and I am comfortably perched on my stool sipping lukewarm sake, which I find fairly bland.
“You are no ordinary person,” he adds, pushing in my direction a small bowl filled with little raviolis which look neither fried nor steamed but somewhere in between. Next to them he places a bowl of soy sauce.
“Gyozas,” He explains.
“On the contrary,” I reply, “I think I’m a very ordinary person. I’m a concierge. My life is a model of banality.”
 “A concierge who reads Tolstoy and listens to Mozart. I did not know this was one of the skills required for your profession.”
And he winks at me. Without further ado he sits down beside me, and applies his chopsticks to his own serving of gyozas.
Never in my life have I felt so at ease. How can I explain? For the first time, I feel utterly trusting, even though I am not alone. Even with Manuela, to whom I would gladly entrust my life, I do not have this feeling of absolute security that comes when one is sure that understanding is mutual. Entrusting one’s life is not the same as opening up one’s soul, and although I love Manuela like a sister, I cannot share with her the things that constitute the tiny portion of meaning and emotion that my incongruous existence has stolen from the universe.
With my chopsticks I savor the gyozas stuffed with coriander and delicately spiced meat. Aware of a staggering sense of well-being, I chat with Monsieur Ozu as if we have known each other forever.”

To me this is a beautiful scene, and honestly one of the true powers of food. Here we finally see Renee unlocking, and feeling comfortable; she is coming into her own as she eats the food Mr. Ozu prepared for her. He prepared a simple yet refined meal for her, Mr. Ozu sees her as the intelligent woman that she is, and as they continue to eat they continue to talk of art and music as equals, not as tenant and concierge, a way Renee has been spoken to her whole life.

Gyozas are what we sometimes call in the states, pot stickers, a dumpling filled with meat and cabbage. I used this recipe to make them, and really they were very easy. I also decided to make pickled cucumbers to go with it, as a nice "side dish". Recipe from here.

I'll start with the pickled cucumbers, as they need to be done in advance, they need to sit in the fridge for a good 12 hours (I went for 24) before serving.

Ingredients: 
2 – 3 Japanese cucumbers/3 – 4 mini (seedless) cucumbers (about 10.5 ounces/300 grams)

3/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt1 1/2 inches kombu, cut into thin shreds with kitchen shears (This stuff is basically dried sea kelp. I couldn't find it at my local market so I opted for dried seaweed instead [picture below])7 tablespoon water3 tablespoons seasoned rice vinegar1/2 teaspoon granulated sugar


Wash the cucumbers and pat them dry.  Rub the cucumbers with the salt.

Make sure to get the long seedless cucumbers, much thinner than our American ones 

Cut them into 1/2-inch slices and place in a glass pint-sized jar.  If the pieces don’t all fit, you can remove pieces and gently press down on the pieces in the jar to make them fit.  Add the kombu (or dried seaweed in this case) to the jar.


Seaweed substitute 
Mix the water, vinegar, and sugar together in a separate container and then pour the mixture over the cucumbers.  Cover the top of the jar with plastic wrap, and then screw the lid in place.  The plastic wrap prevents the vinegar from touching the metal of the lid (which will affect the flavor of the pickles).
Put the cucumbers in the refrigerator to marinate for at least 12 hours.  Shake the jar up and down occasionally so the marinade penetrates the cucumber slices well.  Each time you take cucumber slices out of the jar, make sure and reseal it with the plastic wrap before replacing the lid.  


Okay now the Gyoza's
 Ingredients:
4 cups, loosely packed, minced Napa cabbage (use the frilly leafy half of the cabbage)
1/2 teaspoon table salt

9 ounces ground pork

1/2 tablespoon freshly grated ginger (with a Microplane grater)

2 – 3 cloves garlic, finely minced

1 tablespoon green onion (green part only), minced

2 teaspoon aka miso paste (red/dark miso paste) (Totally couldn't find this at the store either, so I went without it, the dumplings tasted fine)

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 teaspoon crushed red chili pepper

1/4 teaspoon sugar

40 dumpling wrappers
For cooking the dumplings:
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1/2 cup water
Dipping Sauce:
6 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
Several drops of chili oil or sesame oil (optional)  

Toss the minced cabbage with the salt in a large bowl and let it sit for 10 minutes.  Using both hands, or a cheese cloth, squeeze the cabbage firmly to drain and discard the excess water (prevent your dumplings from becoming mushy) and then transfer the cabbage to a deep bowl.  Add the pork, ginger, garlic, green onion, miso, sesame oil, crushed red pepper, and sugar.  Mix everything together with your hands until all the ingredients are evenly distributed.  Using your hands, scoop the mixture into a ball, lift it, and then throw it back into the bowl.  Repeat several times to tenderize the meat and help the mixture stick together.



Have a small bowl of cold water ready.  Lay a dumpling wrapper on a dry work surface, and place a heaping teaspoon of the meat mixture in the center of the wrapper. 



With a fingertip moistened with water, trace a line along half of the edge of the round wrapper.  Fold the wrapper over to enclose the filling, and pinch the wrapper in the center to seal the edges together at that spot.

 Holding the filled half-circle in the left hand, pleat the top of the wrapper from the middle out, pressing it to the flat edge of the wrapper at the back.  


Set aside the stuffed dumpling with the pleated-wrapper edge up. Repeat to make 40 dumplings in all.


In a large skillet with a tight fitting lid, heat 1 teaspoon of the sesame oil over medium-high heat. Carefully place as many of the dumplings that can fit without touching in the skillet with the pleated-wrapper edge up.  


Cook the dumplings for 3 minutes, or until nicely browned on the bottom.  Check the progress by lifting 1 or 2 dumplings by their pleated edge. 


Once the bottoms are nicely browned, use the skillet lid to shield yourself and carefully pour in 1/4 cup of the water.  When the hissing and splattering die down, drizzle in 1/2 teaspoon of the sesame oil around the edge of the skillet.  Place the lid on the skillet to trap in the moisture and then quickly lower the heat to keep the liquid at a bare simmer. Check the dumplings after 2 minutes.  When the wrappers appear slightly translucent and the meat feels firm when pressed lightly with a spoon, remove the lid and raise the heat slightly.  Continue to cook until all the water has evaporated and only the oil remains (about 2 minutes).  Once you hear a sizzling sound, shake the skillet.  The dumplings should slide about.  If they seem to stick to the skillet, move the skillet away from the stove and replace the lid for a moment.  Remove the dumplings from the skillet with a broad flexible spatula. If you’d like, flip them over so that the seared surface faces up.  Cook the remaining dumplings the same way.  Serve the dumplings hot accompanied by the dipping sauce. While the dumplings are cooking, make the dipping sauce by mixing the soy sauce and rice vinegar together in a small bowl.  Pour the sauce into a small serving pitcher or distribute among individual dipping dishes.

Remember this recipe makes a total of 40 dumplings. So invite friends over and eat up!



They are both soft and crispy, and something about them, perhaps their warmth and saltiness speaks to me of comfort as I eat them. I can imagine how Renee felt, daintily picking each one up with her chopsticks, and having the banal curtain she had placed over her whole life finally lifted even if just for a short time. Mr. Ozu’s allowed her to be seen for the Hedgehog that she is: “on the outside, she’s covered in quills, a real fortress, but my gut feeling is that on the inside, she has the same simple refinement as the hedgehog: a deceptively indolent little creature, fiercely solitary — and terribly elegant.”

Bon Appetite