When the weather gets all warm and luscious like this, all I want to do is drink. I want to sit under a tree and sip a frosty cocktail. So, to lead up to Saturday’s 19th C. Pub Crawl, I’m declaring it Cocktail Week. Everyday, I’ll be posting the recipe for an iconic 19th-century cocktail and featuring a pub crawl bar that serves up their own version of a classic concoction.
A Gentleman strolls through Boston on the 19th Century Pub Crawl.
Over the weekend, the 19th Century Pub Crawl went on the road for one wild night in Boston, home to some of America’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice.
The crawl met at Eastern Standard, a new bar that focuses on the revival of classic cocktails. The capable bartenders put together a custom drink list featuring authentic 19th century imbibements. I had myself the “19th Century,” a drink previously known as the Old-Fashioned, and originally known at the Cock-tail. A mix of rye, bitters, and a twist of lemon, this delightful and refreshing drink was the first cocktail, and is the origin point from whence all other cocktails were birthed. I also had the Japanese Cocktail, invented by Jerry Thomas–surprisingly delicious, and perhaps my favorite drink of the evening.
The custom 19th Century cocktail list at Eastern Standard.
If you are ever in Boston, I highly recommend dinner and a drink at Eastern Standard; their hospitality was touching, their bar-craft unparalleled.
The “19th Century” at Eastern Standard.
The crawl participants met and mingled; and, lubricated with a few fine cocktails, became fast friends. By the time we left Eastern Standard, we had 40 crawlers in tow.
An admittedly blurry photo of the crawl making its way to the Red Hat.
We traveled via subway to the Red Hat, a bar founded in 1906 in Boston’s old Theater district (later a neighborhood known for its burlesque shows). We settled in upstairs, next to the antique bar, and surrounded by a charming mural of old Boston. The ambiance was lovely.
I was won over by a small advertisement on my table and ordered a Kraken and Coke. Kraken is a new brand of “Black Spiced Rum,” which comes in an amazing jug-like bottle adorned with an angry sea monster. Ever since spotting it at Astor Wine & Spirits last month, I’ve been meaning to try it out. I was very pleasantly surprised–Kraken is sweet and spicy, and an incredibly pleasant companion to Coke. I recommend it.
Kraken & Coke. Release the Kraken!
Next, we trotted down the street to Union Bar at the Union Oyster House. The UOH is the oldest continually operating restaurant in the U.S., having been founded in 1826. It was the first bar to pass out wooden toothpicks in the 1860s. Despite my track record at previous pub crawls, I did not slurp up any oysters. Instead, I was bought a whiskey on the rocks by a woman in a dashing hat. Perfect.
We ended up skipping the Bell in Hand Tavern after sizing up the line in front of the door that extended around the block, and discovering there was a $10 cover. Boo. The next time I’m in Boston, I’m going to stop in for a burger and a beer; it is one of the oldest bars in America, after all.
Left: The discreet, nondescript hallway that leads to Drink.
Instead, we headed across the river to Drink, another new establishment known for exploring the history of cocktails. After six hours of drinking, I still had a party of twelve ready for more. When we got to Drink’s front stair, we were met by the doorman who (to quote a fellow pub crawler) had “the most amazing Chester A. Arthur mutton chops.” He sized us up, nodded and said: “I heard you guys might be headed our way. Let me see what I can do.” He disappeared inside, and I addressed my loyal troupe of 19th century gentleman and ladies: “He says there’s at least a 45 minutes wait; last call is in 90 minutes. I’m read to wait them out; who’s with me?” Everyone agreed we were in it to win it.
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Chester A. smiled: “Welcome to Drink,” and he swept us inside.
Drink is a magical place; if you can get in, go. There is no menu, which at first strikes you as annoying. But in fact, it allows you the opportunity to chat with your adorable server/bartender who will say things like “I’ve got the perfect drink for you!” He started me off with another Cock-Tail, then an updated old-fashioned. Some of my companions asked for egg drinks, which are unrivaled at Drink. I think that’s what opened the gates for what happened next.
We were suddenly presented with a “special cocktail,” I didn’t catch it’s name. It has specific instructions for consumption: first, you smelled it. A big long whiff. Second, you sipped off the meringue-like egg white that sat on the drink’s surface. Last, you threw the drink back like a shot, imbibing the alcohol and the egg yolk which sits at the bottom of the glass. The egg yolk bursts in your mouth. As mine ruptured, I thought to myself: did I really just eat that raw egg?
Althought we all commented how sober we were on the walk to Drink, by the time we piled in cabs around 1:30 am, we were 3-5 sheets to the wind. Total Eclipse of the Heart came on the radio, and I sang it all the way back to my brother’s apartment in Cambridge, where I met a few friends for just one more drink.
They’re pointing to the “Gentlemen’s Room.”
I’m now safely entrenched back in New York city, still basking from the warm glow of a night of fine drinks, and even finer friends. I met such lovely people. And if you missed the Boston 19th Century Pub Crawl this year, worry not. There’s already plans for a repeat performance next spring. And for those of you in New York, and those of you willing to hop a Fung Wah to get here, the New York 19th Century Pub Crawl is right around the corner on May 15th. Check out our proposed route, and I hope to see you there!
Port Wine Jelly
From Directions For Cookery, In Its Various Branches. By Miss Leslie, 1840
1 cup of water
1 oz isinglass
1 oz gum arabic
2 cups port wine
2 ounces rock candy, or 3 tablespoons sugar
½ nutmeg, grated
1. In a medium saucepan, heat water and isinglass, stirring constantly until isinglass has dissolved. The resulting liquid with be thick and tapioca like
2. Add wine, gum Arabic, sugar and nutmeg. Bring to a boil, and boil for ten minutes. Stir constantly, because things get stuck to the bottom, boil over, or burn.
3. Strain through a cloth, like muslin or several layers of cheesecloth. Pour into a mold (I used four ramekins). Set aside until it comes to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
***
When I was cooking the isinglass, it had a distinct ocean smell. Like salty sea air. I guess that’s because it comes from inside a fish. The gum arabic also had a distinct smell–like an old jewelry box. When I cooked everything together, it had the consistency of simple syrup.
After I poured the concoction in a mold and let it set, I popped it out of the ramekins and cut a slice to sample. I was already surprised– the texture was not at all how I thought it would be. I was expecting something like a jello; in reality it was more like fruit leather or Turkish delight. Very dense.
It didn’t taste very good—it made me make an unhappy face. The flavor of the chemical ingredients was stronger than that of the port wine. It might have been enjoyable if consumed in a time when their weren’t a lot of sweets available, like in the early 19th century, but in the 21st century it’s really pretty blah.
BUT–I was thrilled that it came together chemically. I mixed together strange bags of suspicious looking substances, and the final product set just how it should. Who figured this stuff out in the first place? Like “Let’s make a fancy dessert out of these crispy strings I found in a sturgeon!”
It makes me brave to try my next isinglass experiment, a “Very Fine Charlotte Russe.”
Hey, Bostonites! (Bostonians?) Come join us for a night of nineteenth-century debauchery at Boston’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice!
We will meet promptly at 5:30 PM at Eastern Standard (528 Commonwealth Avenue) for classic cocktails and complimentary appetizers. We will then proceed to Red Hat Café; Union Oyster House; Bell in Hand Tavern; and, should we still possess the fortitude and sobriety, Drink.
The crawl is FREE to join. Appropriate nineteenth century attire is encouraged, but by no means required.
I had this Applejack recommended to me by one of the cocktail experts at Astor Wine & Spirits, a store that is an incredible resource for all things drinkable.
Applejack is one of our nation’s oldest alcoholic beverages: Laird’s, the oldest producer of apple jack, is also the nation’s oldest legal distillery. It received the first American distillery license issued in 1780. George Washington was producing applejack at his homestead as early as 1760 using the Laird family recipe. Read some more interesting historical facts about Laird’s here.
Like most things that are old and delicious, there has been an revival of applejack production, particularly in the tri-state area. New York has always been known for its apples, and each bottle of Cornelius Applejack is made from over 60 lbs of apples grown in the Hudson Valley. It’s made in small batches, and each bottle is carefully hand labled with the batch and bottle number. It’s a beautiful product, from the shape of the bottle to the intoxicating golden color of the drink itself.
The liqour smells sweet, with a hint of vanilla. It’s got a hell of a kick to it, but you can taste all the complexity of the apple flavors as it washes over your tongue. I was told there is someone in NYC who is drinking through all of the artisinal applejacks coming on to the market (are you out there?), and apparently this one is the best. At Astor Wine & Spirits, they recommended drinking it neat to enjoy the full flavor of the spirit. But I’ve discovered having it on the rocks with a teaspoon of simple syrup doesn’t hurt a thing. Neither does a couple muddled mint leaves, or a dash of Angostura bitters.
February is the coldest month in New York City. Although I know that the spring thaw is just around the corner, the bitter wind that whips off the East River makes me die a little bit inside. Every day.
To keep the frigid weather at bay, I’ve been investigating winter cocktails. Nothing beats the wintertime blues like hot water and alcohol. I’ve been eyeing up this cocktail for awhile: the Apple Toddy. It comes from my favorite cocktail book, the first cocktail book, Jerry Thomas’ How to Mix Drinks.
For my version of this recipe, I used delicate, little Lady Apples, which I found in my local grocery store. Feel free to use a large baking apple, cut into slices. Apple Brandy can be found at most liquor stores or ordered online. Laird’s has been making apple jack and apple brandy in America since 1780.
Oh that’s good. I feel warmer already.
*** Apple Toddy Inspired by a recipe from How to Mix Drinks, by Jerry Thomas 1862.
Baking Apples: three small apples or one large 1/4 cup light brown sugar 1/8 tsp mace (or cinnamon, if you prefer) 1/8 tsp nutmeg Unsalted butter 2 ounces apple brandy Hot water
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Core apples and place in a baking dish. Mix sugar and spices. Fill the center of the apples with sugar mixture and sprinkle the remainder around the edges.
2. Bake apples for 30 minutes, or until tender.
3. Scoop one apple (or apple slice) into the bottom of a rocks glass or mug. The bottom of the baking dish should be filled with sugar syrup; add one tablespoon of this syrup to your glass.
4. Add two ounces apple brandy, then fill glass to the top with hot water. Stir gently until the sugar syrup has dissolved.
Want a mouth full of history? Then mark your calender for these free events!
Sunday, February 21st A Timeline of Taste: A Brief Overview of the Last 200 Years 4:30pm – 5:30pm At Trade School 139 Norfolk Street, New York, NY Free for barter.
I’m offering an hour-long class through Trade School.
Our idea of what “tastes good” is constantly changing. In this class, we will take a look at the constant flux of America’s culinary preferences, from the publication of the first American cookbook in 1796 to the swell of convenience food in the 1940s and 50s. To inspire our discussion, we will be sampling four different cakes from four different eras, and will make one of these desserts in the class. And with your help, we’ll bring our exploration to the present day with a selection of contemporary dishes.
Trade School offers these classes through a barter system; when you sign up, you can choose to bring a small item to trade for the class. There are a limited number of seats available, so reserve yours today! Sign up here.
Sunday, March 7th Pancakes a Plenty! 11am – 1pm At Old Stone House 336 3rd Street Brooklyn, NY 11215 Free
Old Stone House lights up its hearth for a spring pancake celebration, featuring culinary creations by historic gastronomist Sarah Lohman. Pancakes a Plenty! presents three historic pancake recipes sure to please the modern palate: Pumpkin Cornmeal; Apple and Sour Milk; and Clove and Rosewater.
Pulled from the pages of 18th and 19th century New England cookbooks, these recipes have the flavor of New York life from another era. Prepared over an open fire, the pancakes will be served with all the fixins’ as well as hot drinks.
We’ll keep serving pancakes until the pancakes run out. So stop by and sample some slapjacks
Saturday, April 10th The Boston 19th C. Pub Crawl Starting at 5:30pm Meet at Eastern Standard 528 Commonwealth Avenue Boston, MA Free, but drinks are additional.
We’re taking the 19th Century Pub Crawl on the road to Boston! The evening will start at Eastern Standard, a contemporary bar that “…Breathe(s) life into forgotten cocktails of the past as well as conjuring up new classics.” They’ll be featuring several cocktails for the Crawl, including their house special the “19th Century,” and offering a selection of house-made hors d’oeuvres. From there, we’ll crawl to Boston’s oldest pubs, some stretching back to the 17th century! Our proposed route (subject to change) can be found here.
Saturday, May 15th The New York 19th C. Pub Crawl Starting at 6pm Meet at Madame X New York, NY Free, but drinks are additional.
In the wake of last fall’s amazing New York 19th C. Crawl, we’re planning a whole new route! This spring, visit some of New York’s oldest taverns and most notorious dens of vice on 10th Ave. Formerly along Manhattan’s western waterfront, these inns served sailors drinks, drafts and entertainment. Our proposed route (subject to change) can be found here.
The Secret Bowling Alley: “We recently purchased a building in Queens, and while clearing out the basement we discovered a two lane manual bowling alley in very good condition. We did some research and this basement was most probably a club during the Prohibition era.” (The Huffington Post)
Will Bitters Shortage Finally Kill Old Timey Cocktail Trend?: “There has been a shortage. You can’t just turn on and off supply of bitters. It’s not like producing bottled water – it’s a very delicate, intricate process.” Invented in 1824 by a German doctor and made from a secret recipe of herbs, barks, roots, spices and rum, bitters became popular in Britain as an additive for gin, partly to conceal quinine in tonic water.” (Gothamist)
It was my birthday last weekend, January 15th to be exact, which also happens to be the day before prohibition went into effect in 1920. So I decided to throw a “Drink Like Prohibition Starts Tomorrow” party.
I selected pre-prohibition cocktail recipes for gin, rum, whiskey, applejack, absinthe, champagne and beer. I provided a table full of mixers, tools, garnishes–everything my guests would need to shake up their own classic cocktails.
Most of the recipes I selected came from Tom Bolluck’s 1917 book The Ideal Bartender. But two of the more interesting recipes I pulled from Sloppy Joe’s Bar Guide. Published in 1932 (originally 1931), the book features recipes from Sloppy Joe’s, a bar located in Havana, Cuba that was freqeunted by the likes of Clark Gable and Ernest Hemmingway. I first learned about this book while researching the origins of the Mojito; the first printed recipe for a Mojito appears in this book.
An interesting note, this drink appears in the section labeled “Bacardi Drinks.” Barcardi was preferred for this drink because it was a filtered rum: it had a light flavor and was clear.
*** Mojito From Sloppy Joe’s Bar Reprint Season 1932-1933 by Jose Abeal and Ross Bolton
I served this drink in a rocks glass; should you want to make a full 8 oz. drink, I recommend doubling these proportions.
1 tsp sugar or simple syrup Juice of 1/2 a Lemon 1.5 ounces rum Seltzer Water Fresh Mint Shell of Lemon
Fill a glass with ice. Add sugar, and lemon juice. Add rum, and fill glass with seltzer water. Add 4-6 leaves of fresh mint. Stir cocktail until condenesation appears on the outside of the glass. Add the lemon shell and serve.
***
This drink was a real standout for me over the evening: I felt like it was a revelation in drinking and a vast improvement over contemporary Mojitos. The flavor is light, refreshing, and just the right amount of sweet. It reminded me of the fresh squeezed lemonade I used to get at the county fair–but boozier.
However, I read through the modern introduction to Sloppy Joe’s after the party, and found this:
“Note that in this book any mention of lemon, may actually be lime. This mess up is proven in the bilingual Bar La Florida Cocktails Guide that translates lime incorrectly from Spanish.”
So in retrospect the drink probably should have been made with lime–but the lemon juice was delicious.
“This wall is over 100 years old.” Inside Cleveland’s oldest continually operating bar, the Harbor Inn.
I’m in my hometown of Cleveland for the holidays, a city I love very much. My heart breaks to see it looking so threadbare in this recession. My friends and I decided to celebrate our city via a journey into Cleveland history: a crawl of Cleveland’s oldest pubs and bars that tip their hats to a bygone era.
Our first stop was Edison’s Pub, a local bar that pays tribute to Thomas Edison. We started there mostly because it was a convenient meeting spot for the attendees, but the $2.50 happy hour drink special wasn’t bad either. Cleveland, you truly are the land of plenty!
Next up was the Prosperity Social Club. Although it resides in what was a 1938 ballroom, the atmosphere was more 1950s VFW hall. However, as someone pointed out, it was very traditional, old-school Cleveland. We dug it. It was easy to picture iron workers coming in from the cold for a drink, and the bar is still warmed by a vintage wood-burning stove. I drank a hot whiskey, a comforting combination of Jameson, honey, lemon and clove. Good for what ails ‘ya. I recommend it, as well as the pierogies, the next time you’re there.
Right: Hot Whiskey at the Prosperity Social Club
We jumped in a cab and headed north, stopping at Cleveland’s new mixology sensation, the Velvet Tango Room. From their website:
“At the Tango Room, we believe in craft. We believe that the right combination of ingredients can take you back in time, to a porch in Key West, a beach in Bermuda, a shadowy speakeasy in New York, or a glittering bar in Paris. When you sit at our bar, we want you to connect to those places and that history, so we carefully research old cocktail recipes, lovingly resurrecting classic drinks with historically accurate ingredients.”
Sounds right up my alley, doesn’t it? It’s pricier than most Cleveland bars, at $15 a drink, but it’s worth it. The cocktails taste like a sip of history, respectfully revived and celebrated. I had a pisco sour (Peru’s national drink!) and I plan on returning soon for one of their carefully crafted Manhattans.
This bar is incredibly popular in Cleveland: five years ago, when I was working on my thesis, everyone said a venue like this could never survive locally. As it turns out, perhaps a historically innovative place like the Tango Room is exactly what Cleveland needs.
Next we walked a few blocks past the Westside Market, and into the Great Lakes Brewery. GLB is know for its beers named after famous Clevelanders and events from the city’s history. It’s housed in what was once the Market Tavern, est. 1865.
“Its most famous patron was Eliot Ness, the man credited with taking down Al Capone’s gang. The Taproom retains much of the charm and mystique from the 1930s era in its grand Tiger Mahogany bar (Cleveland’s oldest) and intriguing bullet holes said to have come from Eliot Ness himself.”
The bar in the Taproom at the Great Lakes Brewery. There is a pen sticking out of a bullet hole put in the bar in the 1930s.
Ness’ time in Cleveland is a fascinating one, marked by his fruitless search for a serial killer known as the Torso Murderer that stalked the city streets. The killer would dismember his victims and leave their remains on the banks of the Cuyahoga. The case was never solved.
We cabbed it again, heading for the lake front and the Harbor Inn, Cleveland’s oldest continually operating bar, est. 1895. We were apprehensive about this joint, having heard it was both a dive and a college bar. But upon arrival, it was exactly the kind of place I’m comfortable in: a little worse for the wear, but roomy and convivial. We had a great time playing on the vintage bowling machine and downing $2 PBR tall boys.
Last, we crossed the river and entered the Flat Iron Cafe. Established in 1910, it’s Cleveland’s oldest Irish Bar:
“The building, which was formally a four story hotel, had a fire in the late 1800’s in which the top two floors were destroyed…The first floor was used as a blacksmith’s shop and the rooms on the second floor were used as lodging over the years by the sailors and longshoremen working on the lakes.”
Exterior: Flat Iron Cafe
I don’t remember much at this point…someone was solving a mystery. I ate a gyro from a street cart. Somebody else may have gotten married. At any rate, a good time was had by all. I’m certainly thankful for my Cleveland friends who joined me on my historic antics. And I’m thankful to have grown up in such great town with a fascinating history. I love you, Cleveland!