Esquire has a great list of the 75 skills that every man should master. And among those 75 things are several food and drink-related skills. Here's how I made out.
#7 on the list is "Cook meat somewhere other than the grill." This is the easiest one for me because I haven't cooked anything on a grill since I worked in restaurants years ago (and I don't bbq). #17 is "Make one drink, in large batches, very well." Does iced tea count? If it's booze, I'll have to work on this one. #32 is something I've never had a problem with, "Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the words nutty, fruity, oakey, finish, or kick." I usually just say something like "this Cabernet is really, really good!"
I don't know if I could ever be a bartender. I like the idea of being one, but it seems to me it's like the ultimate pop quiz in a very intense situation. People come in off the street and ask you for a Tequila Sunrise or a Negroni or A Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against The Wall, and you immediately have to know how to do them. Sure, you can stop and look in a book (I did that when I was a sorta-bartender at a restaurant), but a real bartender has to know how to make these drinks immediately, especially if it's a Friday or Saturday night. Though I guess it's like any other skill, you learn through practice.
David Wondrich, the drinks guy at Esquire, wrote one of the best cocktails books in the past quarter century, Esquire Drinks, and he says that if you want a proper Manhattan, you have to skip the cherries and add more Vermouth. After the jump, his recipe.
Julia Child was not only one of my favorite chefs, but she was one of my favorite people. She just seemed like she'd be a kick to hang out with and talk to, and that fact that she knew how to cook was a bonus.
Esquire has a regular feature in their magazine, "What I've Learned," and Julia Child gave her answers in 2000 (she passed away in 2004). She gives several bits of wisdom, not just about food but about life in general. Some of my favorites.
"Fat gives things flavor."
On driving: "Actually, I find I'm not quite as alert as I used to be, and it would be awful to kill somebody."
"Always remember. If you're alone in the kitchen and you drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. Who's going to know?"
I was at Border's the other day, getting my usual chai, when a woman came to the counter. I would say she was in her early to mid 50s, and when she got to the counter the guy asked her what she wanted. The woman scanned the menu, looked around the counter and said, "what's an espresso?"
This surprised me, because I thought everyone - well, at least everyone who drinks coffee, goes to coffee shops and had passed the age of 50 - would know what an espresso is. I thought of this while reading this Esquire column by director Barry Sonnenfeld. While directing the new ABC comedy Notes From The Underbelly, he decided to test several cappuccino makers on the crew, and he publishes the results.
The December issue of Esquire has a gift guide for the person who plans on giving meat to friends and family this Christmas.
The first choice is an obvious one, and a familiar one to fans of The Late Show With David Letterman: Lobel's, in New York City. The mag calls it "the best steak in America," and I bet there are some places in the South that would want to argue that point. They also list the Best Ham In America, The Best Sausage, The Best Barbecue, and even the Best Wine to go along with your meat gifts.
Warning: You probably shouldn't wrap the meat early and put it under the tree until Christmas. Not only will that make for a very funky Christmas morning, your dog will probably ravage the gifts to find out what the hell that smell is. And don't put any meat in the stockings either. That's just wrong.
I look forward to annual lists like this, Esquire's Best New Restaurants of the Year. Sure, I never go to 99.5 of them (OK, probably more like 100% of them), but I like reading about new places that have opened, what various chefs around the country are doing, and I'm intrigued when there are places around Boston mentioned. I just gotta get off my ass and visit some of them.
This year's list includes two Boston restaurants, Om and Sorellina. Other new spots making the grade including A Voce (NYC), Ecco (Atlanta), Acadiana (Washington, D.C.), Country (NYC), Proof On Main (Louisville, KY), Guy Savoy (Las Vegas), and Cut (Los Angeles), which was also named The Restaurant of the Year. There are also a few other categories, including Chef of the Year, Best New Design, and Four Chefs To Watch.
Take a look at the list and let us know which restaurants you'd add to the list. Make sure you name the city and why it's so good.
Esquire's Chuck Klosterman has gone to a lot of bars, and he lays down the rules on the five things that every bar should make sure they don't have.
Natural light
Patrons who are reading
Loud music
Dogs
22 year-old female bartenders who "just wanna party"
I'm completely with him when it comes to the loud music. I don't go to a bar to listen to music, I go to a bar to drink and have conversations (side note: and could some bars realize that not all of us want to watch sports on TV? You have 15 televisions, could you turn one or two of them to the news or something?). But I think it's OK for bars to be well-lit, and any 22 year-old females I meet that want to "party," well, I'm open to that.
Veteran cocktail guru David Wondrich lists the best bars in the United States in the June issue of Esquire (the one with Tom Hanks on the cover).
The magazine looked at several criteria, including great bartenders, beautiful women, no TV, jukeboxes, really expensive, really cheap, weekdays perfect and weekends too crowded, great for daytime drinking, a little rowdy, rowdy in a different way, good conversation, and war-zone location.
Some of those things are quite random, but it's an interesting list, from The Office Bar in Hoonah, Alaska (population 900) to The Double Down Saloon in Las Vegas to No. 9 Park in Boston, the magazine gives a nice mix of bars across the country. And it lays it out in a helpful West Coast to East Coast format.
The magazine realizes that they might have missed a few bars, so they want readers to write in their favorites as well.