Martinis, Brown Derbys, Club 33

My friend Autumn - you'll probably be seeing a bit of her in future posts - had never been to Club 33, so I asked a friend of mine to set up a dinner reservation as a belated birthday celebration. It was all downhill from there.

This day also saw the first coming to order of the Carthay Circle Drinking Club, but not before Autumn and I got a three round head start.

Let's pour into my notes and see if we can decrypt what happened yesterday.

I began with the Carthay Martini. The cocktail menu describes it as follows:

Classically prepared with

Hendrick's Gin or Double

Cross Vodka, Lillet Blanc 

Dry Vermouth, and Gourmet 

Truffle Olives served with 

an ice sphere made from 

locally sourced purified 

water.

I'm attempting to recreate the line breaks from the menu to illustrate our confusion when it came to the drink's actual constituents - was there meant to be a comma after the word "Blanc" which a copywriter simply omitted due to the line wrap? Or are they suggesting that Lillet Blanc is or makes a brand of dry vermouth? 

What we eventually got out of our bartender, after failing to convey the nature of our question several times, is that rather than add dry vermouth to the cocktail as would be the case in a typical martini they use Lillet Blanc which is sprayed into the glass using an atomizer. Whether or not the menu conveys a dubious description is a point of contention, I suppose. Anyway, martinis that evoke the Vesper seem to be coming back in style as far as I can tell.

The Vesper was invented by Ian Fleming - yes, it's the drink Daniel Craig orders in Casino Royale. You cannot actually recreate this drink, however, as Fleming's recipe calls for Kina Lillet, which technically no longer exists; the closest approximation to the original formula is Lillet Blanc. So there.

Side note: I have "Casablanca" on while typing this up. Days ago, when I called Autumn to discuss meeting up, I told her we were going to have a Casablanca day. I also happened to have taken something very potent to help me sleep right before I called her, which was genius. I really wish I could know what it's like to have a conversation with me while I'm entering an altered state; it must be amazing. Anyway, I said it would be a Casablanca day because if you've seen as many classic films as I have you'll get the impression, if we allow these films to substitute as actual artifacts of the era, that everyone wore several layers of fantastic formalwear in all occasions and climates, whether in the Moroccan desert or in a coal mine. The weather forecast indicated temperatures in the mid-90's, but as this was a day not only for Club 33 (which has a dress code) but also for being fabulous in the Carthay Circle Lounge, I planned on taking my favorite new jacket for a ride (over a collared shirt and atop my best dress pants). If you're going to be hot you might as well be hawt. Autumn went out shopping on the morning of our adventure trying to find herself a sun dress, which she is convinced are no longer sold, so she ended up with a smart black and red number. I promised her we'd be the best dressed non-employees in the Park.

Let's talk about ice spheres (made from locally sourced purified water, naturally).

Ask four different bartenders how and why this contraption does precisely what it does and you'll get four nearly-different answers. The procedure, nonetheless, goes like this:

A cylinder of ice is placed between two brass elements with a spherical lacuna between them.

It takes less than a minute for the brass, using weight, kinetic energy, heat - something - to melt and warp the cylinder into a neat little sphere which ends up in your martini. Despite what you might expect, the result is not a watered-down cocktail. Verdict: thumbs up, naturally. It has Hendrick's, after all.

If I were to be entirely honest, I think the truffle (and blue cheese?) stuffed olives are a bit overpowering. However, I keep eating them, so they can't be all that bad.

Autumn began her drinking marathon with a Brown Derby, which consists of Bulleit Bourbon, fresh grapefruit juice and honey, served up. I'll get to her notes on the drink in just a bit.

I began round two with something from the menu I had zero familiarity with, the Hemingway Daiquiri: Bacardi Superior Rum, Luxardo Maraschino Liquer, Fresh Lime and Grapefruit Juice, and Orange Agave Nectar, served up. I'm recreating the description from the menu verbatim because I didn't understand why the description called for using the word "and" twice.

My notes tell me I thought this drink was tart, and evoked thoughts of margaritas. I know this description is about the Hemingway because Autumn made a note in my book to explain this later, should I forget. She became increasingly more helpful as the day wore on.

Autumn ordered the Gin & Tonic: Botannical. Hendrick's Gin, Premium Tonic, Star Anise, Cardamom and Mint. This is a really delicious and refreshing drink which I'll order for myself on my next visit.

She also ordered what I would have assumed to be a dubious pairing, a duo of chocolate truffles. The lighter one she described as lovely, rich and decadent with milk chocolate on the nose and a hazelnut finish.

Next up for me: The Aviation Cocktail: Plymouth Gin, Creme Yvette Violet Liquer, Luxardo Maraschino Liquer, and Fresh Lime Juice, served up.

I thought this one tasted medicinal, and also tart. I like the hint of violet but I was becoming fatigued with tart drinks.

"It tastes like old candy," Autumn observed. "Not like rotten candy but like old people candy... You should make a note - that's my favorite kind of candy. I'm the queen of black licorice." 

We took a break to go on the Monster's Inc ride; a dark ride was all we had time for. By the time we disembarked Matt, Darcy, Raustin and Noel had arrived and the first meeting of the Carthay Circle Drinking Club was coming to order.

I had it in my mind to try a Sparkling Mare until Autumn pointed out that I already tried one of those on our last visit, during which we both went to the dark side.

My note reads: "Autumn says I had a sparkling Mare last time" which she continued by writing "and a Pimm's Punch but you're too stubborn to listen to my genius. Jerk..."

I have no notes on what Matt and Darcy ordered to drink. I was too preoccupied with telling the story of all the poor drinking decisions Autumn and I made on our last visit, and why we will never again order a drink with a glowing cube now that the Glojito no longer exists.

Raustin (not pictured - the only photo I have of him is incomprehensibly blurry) ordred a Brown Derby. My transcription of his tasting notes says it was sweeter than he expected. He thought it would be more citrus.

"Bourbon is sweet, what were you expecting?" asked Autumn. Then she scrawled some more sagacity in my notebook: "I disagree. It's a balanced drink with tart notes that brings out the sweetness." She wrote many things, but in general I'm only going to share excerpts of Autumn's vitriol thoughts.

Skipping over the next two paragraphs of Autumn's sagacity we come to:

*Now we've had enough drinks to discuss people's sex lives. Good times.

*DO NOT TELL PEOPLE HOW POORLY I SPELL*

*Darcy says Racer 5 = yes. "It's smokey."

(Not transcribed are Autumn's thoughts on beer in general, which involve words I'd rather not affix near photos of beverages.)

*Now we're drunk enough for casual racism. Not me, of course, I have class.

(Not transcribed: the rest of that page of Autumn's notes.)

Not wanting to imbibe another new drink I could potentially forget I went with a Carthay Manhattan, the only other cocktail in the lounge for which they create the spherical ice.

Around the same time - for a pick me up - I had a Chip Shot (detailed in first entry) and Autumn had the Brandy Alexander... I forgot to write down the ingredients for that one. I'll have to pick them up later.

The Brandy Alexander is wonderful. I love the subtle hint of nutmeg that teases the nose.

[Casablanca just finished so I've put in a copy of Harvey, starring Jimmy Stewart. Elwood P. Dowd makes everything better, particularly following a day of consuming low grade poison in marathon format.]

Soon it was time to take Autumn to Club 33 for dinner.

You'll probably know all about 33 already, so I won't belabor its history or exclusivity; the interweb has plenty of resources if you want to learn about it.

I want to focus first on what is good about 33: all of the times I've visited the club in the past. Those were all good meals and good experiences. And although the entire staff is excellent and give stellar service, the kitchen failed us that night. Out of respect for Autumn's belated birthday experience I cannot leave that part out of our review.

I did not know until our arrival that Autumn had never seen Fantasmic before, which she attempted to watch with an obstructed view from the balcony. The show was a total failure. Half of the pyrotechnics were absent, Murphy the dragon was not working at all, and Ursula's float never appeared.

I've had utterly delightful meals at 33. This one, unfortunately, was preternaturally bad. Autumn chose the corn bisque which was gelatinous and abnormally sweet. Everything was abnormally sweet, in fact. Here in my notes in Autumn's handwriting are the words: Please use the word "hideous" when referring to the bisque. 

I started with the scallops which were mysteriously piled atop what seemed to be turkey stuffing and paired with a dipping sauce which, as far as I can tell, was either cocktail sauce or ketchup with a few teaspoons of sugar added. I had scallops at 33 last year and, unlike on this occasion, they were delicious and had been prepared for a sane person's palate. 

As for Autumn's entree, here are her notes: Everything was sugar coated. The potatoes had sugar around the edge, the snap peas were tossed in sugar. The short rib was covered in a sugar sauce and it was set in a port reduction sauce. It was awful.

The only other note she left in my moleskine reads: Stop calling them 5-toed cats. They're "polydactyl." (We had been discussing Hemingway's inbred cats.)

My Chateubriand, though lacking in seasoning, was edible.

For her birthday they brought Autumn a chocolate mousse and box of macaroons. They were dead set on putting as much sucrose in her as possible. She left with an upset stomach.

Better luck next time.

She did enjoy the fireworks, though, which she got to watch from the club's balcony and were a delight once the feral kids around us stopped kicking her. She described them as awe inspiring and beautiful. She gets emotional about fireworks. Looking at the world through her eyes is fun when she takes a breath from itemizing everything I do or say that is stupid or incorrect.

My goal of drinking the entire menu is well underway. I leave you with a photo Darcy took in the Lounge. Until next time: Cheers.