Using your saber to drink Champagne
You own a saber, don’t you?
It’s Monday night, so this must be the University of Houston and my weekly International Sommelier Guild class on wine appreciation. Twenty-two wine geeks and one geeky instructor, all talking and drinking wine for five to seven hours on a Monday night.
Those of you who really, really want to know more about wine should consider signing up. There are classes throughout the US and Canada (and much of the world).
But just so you don’t think this is all study and no play, here’s a quick video of Darryl Beeson (the instructor) and several of the class participants learning the art of sabering a bottle of Champagne.
Steak night at Ernie’s
It’s 6pm on a Thursday night and I’m driving home to an empty house with an empty stomach. Sounds like a good time to stop and eat at a place where everyone knows my name. I drive south on Montrose, just past US-59 and turn right. There it is: Ernie’s on Banks.
“A martini. Gin, of course,” I say as I ease into the barstool at the end of the bar.
The bartender’s name is Danny and he’s friendly enough. “A special gin?” he asks.
“What’s the house?”
Danny shows me a bottle of Taaka.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll need the Tanqueray, please.” Taaka is cheap stuff at six bucks a bottle. Not tonight, thanks.
Danny shakes me a great 3-to-1 martini and I settle into my seat.
American Standard Dry Martini
3 ounces gin (always use the best gin you can find)
1 ounce dry vermouth
shake, serve up with a single olive
I’m a purist when it comes to my martinis. The drink is mostly gin, so scrimping there doesn’t make sense. And the vermouth is critical: too little or too much and the drink loses its appeal. Shake mine, please, don’t stir. I like to drink my martini while it’s still laughing at me.
There are five or six people at the bar and two more at the dart board. None of them know my name and that’s alright with me. I’ve only been here once before, on my way to some museum event a month or so ago.
As I finish my martini I realize that my empty stomach won’t go away by itself. I stopped in tonight because Thursdays are $10 steak nights.
“Danny, I’ll have a steak, well-done.” I motion to him that I’ll be at the table closest to the door. I’ll be able to watch the TV and the crowd from there.
The steak arrives quickly enough and it’s just the meal I needed.
Ernie’s On Banks
1010 Banks Street at Montrose
Houston TX 77006-6112
(866) 464-9251
www.erniesonbanks.com
A rainy night at Hugo’s
The hostess walks me over to the bar and hands me the over-sized, leather covered menu. I park myself on a rather uncomfortable bar stool and glance up at a muted TV tuned to the Weather Channel.
It’s a cold and rainy night in Houston. Houston streets are infamous for flooding; I’ve heard that they’re actually designed to flood. In fact, there are some intersections that flood when the humidity reaches 95%.
Long ago I adopted a policy of “alcohol is better than water:” if it’s raining too hard I stop and get a drink while everyone else nervously drives to wherever they need to be so quickly. I take time to relax and only surface again when the weather clears.
“What would you like?” asks my bartender/waiter, Carlos. It’s only expected, I guess, that my server at Hugo’s Mexican Restaurant would be named Carlos.
I’ve been paging through the thick menu. I move past the extensive and impressive wine list. I’ve been a Houston Wine Geek twice this week already, I’m more of a Drinking Out Club kinda guy tonight.
“How about a paloma? Are they any good?”
“The classic paloma is best, it’s authentic,” says Carlos.
Authentic? Would he know? Carlos has that urban chic kind of look and not a hint of an accent. I’m guessing he’s never set foot in Mexico. Besides, the menu says it’s made with Corralejo Blanco tequila and Hansen’s soda. I doubt there’s much Hansen’s sold in Mexico.
The authentic paloma is Mexico’s rum and Coke. Mix tequila and grapefruit soda in just about any proportion, with a splash of lime to balance it out. Skip the lime of you want.
Paloma
2 ounces blanco tequila
6 ounces grapefruit soda
1/2 ounce lime juiceshake tequila and lime, pour over ice in a salt-rimmed tall glass, top with soda
“Sure, I’ll try one. And bring me the ceviche appetizer. Sounds like they’ll go great together.”
Carlos punches in my order and walks to the other end of the bar. He pours a few ingredients into his mixing glass along with some ice and shakes it casually for a short while. With his back to me, he fills my glass. I’m the only guy in the bar and I’m missing the show.
Carlos brings me my drink. In a few minutes my appetizer arrives, delivered by another server.
This bar food combination is outstanding. The Hansen’s-based paloma is, if not authentic, well-balanced and flavorful. The ceviche’s red snapper is perfectly marinated with lime and paired with just the right amount of avocado. There’s no tomato salsa, thank goodness, but a pleasing blend of not-too-spicy pico de gallo. Salty, freshly-made tortilla chips round out the meal.
It’s still raining. Looks like I’ll be here awhile.
Hugo’s
1602 Westheimer Road at Mandell
Houston TX 77006
(713) 524-7744
www.hugosrestaurant.net
Laissez les bons temps rouler!
It’s 5pm and it’s been a long day and I need a place to relax, so I walk across the street and down a few blocks to a+, one of the swankiest bars in downtown Houston.
Looks like I’m the first customer in the bar today. Matt, the bartender, is still setting up tables and prepping the room.
I’ve been here before and I’m back today because on the first Tuesday of every month a+ introduces a featured cocktail with special happy hour pricing. The happy hour price is nice, but I really come to see and taste what’s new. I’d hate to get stuck in a rut by not sampling what’s available.
Matt finishes his work, comes around the bar and I ask, “What’s the featured cocktail today?”
The young bartender (he drives in from near the Woodlands for this gig) tells me, “Le bon temps. It’s Navan Cognac, lime juice, simple syrup and pineapple juice. It’s a little sweet but you might like it.”
I know that le bon temps is French for “the good times.” Somehow that’s appropriate since most of the folks in New Orleans are letting the good times roll today. It’s Fat Tuesday, the movable feast of Mardi Gras.
I’ve never tasted Navan and the happy hour price is right.
“Yeah, I’ll try one,” I say. (My french is no good so I don’t embarrass myself by trying to say the name.)
le bon temps
2 ounces Navan Vanilla Cognac
1/2 ounce lime juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
4 ounces pineapple juiceshake and serve on the rocks
Matt is pouring le bon temps already premixed and ready behind the bar, so I don’t have to wait very long.
“Fresh squeezed?” I ask. The pineapple flavor is spot-on and the drink is sweet, but not too sweet.
“Yes,” beams Matt, “both the pineapple juice and the lime juice are fresh squeezed. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“The cognac shines through,” I say, “you know, with all this pineapple juice it’s too bad you don’t shake it. That would give it a nice foam in the glass.”
I nurse the drink for the next thirty minutes or so, after all, I’m here to relax.
The crowd in the bar is growing steadily. Seems Alden is hosting a book signing at 6pm. Some nights the crowd would be welcome. Not tonight.
“One’s my limit, I’m driving home,” I tell Matt. I pay my tab and I’m out the door.
a+, the bar at Alden-Houston
1117 Prairie Street
Houston TX 77002
(832) 200-8800
www.aldenhotels.com
