Accidental Deliciousness: Courtyard Bar at Brennan's

About a month ago, I strode confidently into the Courtyard Bar at Brennan's. I'm here to try the Brugal Anejo Rum drinks, I told them. My people talked to the bar manager. It's all worked out.

The bartender looked at me like I was crazy.

A few minutes later, along came the manager himself. He gently informed me that he knew of no such arrangement. Perhaps I meant to go to Brenner's? Imagine me going from confident to deeply embarrassed in about 3.5 seconds.

But I was already there, at the bar, with my schmancy camera, and the afternoon sunlight was slanting through the windows just so, and the bottles behind the bar looked oh-so-alluring. I had dinner plans a couple blocks away in 45 minutes. What was I supposed to do, wait in the car? And everyone had been so nice. So I did what any reasonable person in my position would have done: I ordered a few drinks.


I spotted a bottle of Fernet Branca behind the bar, which intrigued me because I have my own bottle of Fernet Branca, sitting unopened, waiting for the proper inspiration. So I asked the Bartender, Adam (who, despite the initial mix-up, was courtesy itself) to make me a cocktail with Fernet Branca that was "not too bitter". He presented me with something called the Problem Solver - not too sweet, not too bitter, just the perfect little whiskey cocktail. If you would like your problems solved as well, you're in luck, because Adam was kind enough to give me the recipe. (See, I told you they were nice.)

The Problem Solver
2 oz rye whiskey
1/2 oz cherry heering
1/4 oz Benedictine
Fernet Branca

Stir the rye, cherry heering, and Benedictine together in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a Fernet-rinsed cocktail glass.


For my second drink, Adam made me a yellow plum daiquiri. Believe me, it tasted as light and beautiful as it looks. Unfortunately, I don't have the recipe for this one - you may just have to go to Brennan's and order one yourself.

Bartender's Choice @ Blue Bar at Brenner's

One Thursday afternoon I found myself sipping rum cocktails at the bar at Brenner's on the bayou. I can't believe I didn't know about this place before - it's right in the middle of Houston, a stone's throw from Memorial Park, but when you're sitting on the deck, cocktail in hand, surrounded by trees and by the bayou, you can hardly tell you're in the city at all. "It's just like summer camp, but with booze!", I kept telling Kassie, because I am so much of a city girl that my only reference for a place when you can't see any other buildings is summer camp. (Church camp, actually, where there is definitely not any booze.) So when our bartender, Michael Manahan - the creator of the rum old-fashioned you saw in the previous post - asked us if we would stick around and try a few more of his cocktails, well, I was all over that.

First up: something called the Botany Bay. Michael introduced this by announcing that he was about to make "one of the prettiest cocktails you've ever seen". I was skeptical. I drink a lot. Then I was served this:

Ooooh.

The Bottany Bay - so named for a place in Australia where hibiscus flowers grow - is fairly simple: gin (preferrably Blucoat), elderflower liqueur (I'm assuming St. Germain, since it is the only elderflower liqueur), and hibiscus syrup (which sinks to the bottom of the glass to make this cocktail so, so pretty). It tastes almost as good as it looks, which is to say: it tastes quite good. It's hard to go wrong with gin and St. Germain.

Perhaps encouraged by the success of the very, very pretty gin drink, the bartender next served us a very pink combo of malibu rum, lemon juice, grenadine, and whipped cream vodka. His inspiration? A lemon cream pie. It was a little too sweet for my taste, but if you're in the market for drinks that taste like desserts, this could be just the thing - it really does taste just like pie. Then there's the little difficulty of what to call this drink - Michael told me he didn't have a name for it. So how do you order one, in the event you are craving a glass of boozy dessert? Fishing around for names, I came up with this gem - "Sex on the Bayou". Because 1. people always remember suggestive drink names (buttery nipple, anyone?), 2. it's place-appropriate, and 3. this drink certainly fits into the fruity, girly tradition of the sex on the beach. If you're too embarassed to go up to the bar and order sex (I probably would be, even though it was my idea), just ask for the pink drink that tastes like a lemon cream pie. They'll probably know what you mean.

One more thing you should know about the bar at Brenner's: their glasses are huge. (At least compared to the more moderate pours at the fancy cocktail bars I frequent.) Me, holding my giant glass in hand: "Kassie, this is so much booze." You'll get a lot of bang for your buck.

A survey of the damage after an afternoon spent drinking at Brenner's. Thank goodness I brought reinforcements.

Brugal Añejo Rum Old-Fashioned at Brenner's on the Bayou.

A few weeks ago, I got an email from the folks who represent Brugal Añejo rum. There are some cocktails on the menu at Brenner's steakhouse featuring their rum, they said - would I like to try them? Why, yes. Yes I would.

So last Thursday, I headed down to Brenner's, accompanied by loyal drinking buddy Kassie. (Before this I accidentally went to Brennan's, because my reading comprehension skills are slipping. More on that later.) I met the bartender, Michael Manahan, who made me one of his own creations, the Brugal Anejo Rum Old Fashioned.

Now, I'm quite familiar with the concept of an old-fashioned. I've sipped plenty at the Anvil, and made quite a few of my own, including this lavender and elderflower version. But this? This was like nothing I've ever had before. All the nuance you would expect from the interplay of flavors in a bourbon old-fashioned, with a wonderful smoothness. I could drink these all day.


What, I asked Michael, while sipping my way to booze nirvana, inspired him to put rum in an old-fashioned? This is really a very unusual product, he told me - more like a whiskey or a scotch. It's a blend of rums aged between 2-5 years in American oak barrels previously used for Jack Daniels. So of course then I wanted to try the rum straight - maybe I should've done this first? - and he obligingly poured me a little glass. Holy crap. I took a sip and was in love. It was sweet like a rum, but oaky like a nice old scotch. And so, so smooth - no rocks, no nothing. Just super smooth, drinkable rum. (And, at about $18 a bottle, it's a little more accessible than that 18-year-old scotch I was similarly enamored with.)

Want to make some old-fashioneds of your own? Here's how it's done. First, muddle a slice of orange, a cocktail cherry, and a couple dashes of bitters together with 1 tsp of sugar.

Add ice and 2 oz rum; shake and strain into an ice-filled old-fashioned glass. Top with a splash of soda water. I understand this is a bit different from the usual procedure for an old-fashioned (which doesn't involve shaking) - but it's hard to argue with the results.

Starchefs.com Rising Stars Gala Houston

Every year Starchefs.com, the online food gazette, hosts galas in four different cities to honor "rising stars" on the culinary scene. The locations vary; there have been events in New York, Seattle, DC, and San Francisco, to name a few. This year Starchefs finally recognized what you and I have known for a long time: Houston is a really great place to eat and drink. The recipients of Starchefs' very first Houston awards include chefs from some of the most talked-about restaurants in town, as well as Bobby Heugel, the genius behind Houston cocktail institution the Anvil. So when I was offered the opportunity to attend the gala and sample some of this marvelous grub as a guest of Highland Park Scotch Whisky, I was pretty psyched. To say the least.

Let's take a moment to dwell on how fabulous the location was. (It's okay for me to do that. I used to be an architect.) The rooftop pool deck at the four seasons was full of beautiful young people - very Gossip Girl. And there I was. I only regret that I didn't take pictures of the scene. After taking it all in, Lauren and I got down to the real business: eating and drinking. Here are some of the highlights.


First off: a sangria made with Spanish Rioja, grilled mangos, vanilla bean, and cinnamon. This delicious concoction is the brainchild of Sean Beck, the sommelier from Backstreet Cafe and Hugo's and one of the honorees for the evening. Grilling, he said, brings out new flavors in the mango. And new ideas in my sangria-loving mind. Can a smoky sangria be far away? The food: Oh sweet heavens, the food. I sampled so many wonderful dishes I can't possibly describe them all. Lauren and I both agreed that the sautéed shrimp with white cheddar polenta, from chef Jamie Zelko of Zelko Bistro, was our favorite. A close second: the roasted venison with sweet potato-brussel sprout hash, bacon confit, and pomegranate jus, from David Grossman at Branch Water Tavern. Yeah, just read that over again. It's okay to drool a little.

The best damn shrimp and grits you will ever eat.

The cocktails: There were a couple of cocktails being poured for the evening, so of course I had to have one of each. There was the Orkney Opponent, made from lemon, maple syrup, Highland Park's 12-year-old single malt, and allspice dram, and then there was my personal favorite, the Anvil Paloma, made with tequila, lime, and grapefruit beer. (Not quite sure what "grapefruit beer" is but I think I need one right now.)

The Orkney Opponent (l) and the Anvil Paloma.

For dessert: Something truly odd. And I liked a cocktail with balsamic vinegar, so for me to say that - it must have been very, very, odd. When you read about a dessert composed of carrot and grapefruit mousse, grapefruit marmalade, candied sesame seeds, hay sherbet, and clove meringue, what stands out to you? If you answered "the hay sorbet", then you win. Look, I consider it a part of my job to be open to trying unusual things. Even after seeing Lauren's face upon taking her first bite, I gamely ate this. I made sure to get a bite with a little bit of everything. And you know what? The flavors really complimented each other. I just couldn't get over the fact that it tasted like cow food.

I'm sure making this was a real culinary feat. I'm really not kidding when I say that it tasted just like hay. You know those buttered popcorn jelly beans? You bite into them, and you're thinking, no way a jelly bean could taste like popcorn. And then they do. They taste exactly like popcorn, and you respect the technology that must've gone into making that happen - but it's still kind of gross.

And after that: This post would be incomplete without a mention of Highland Park Scotch, and not just because they were my meal ticket for the event. Their 12, 15, and 18-year-old single malts flowed freely throughout the evening - the 12-year-old was quite good, but the smooth, smoky flavor of the 18-year-old was the high point of my night. And maybe my life. I've always loved scotch, ever since that one time at that one wedding - but I never dreamed it could go down this easy.*

*Highland Park also makes a 30-year single malt, available at Spec's for the modest price of four hundred thirty seven dollars a bottle. I'd like to get my hands on some of that.

Updated to add: click here to see more pictures of the event, including photos of all the featured dishes, and the totally bizarre hay sorbet.

5 Classic Cocktails to Order "Off the Menu" at the Anvil.

Since this is a blog about drinking in Houston, after all, and I've already reviewed bars in New York and Los Angeles, I figured it's high time I tackled the Bayou City's burgeoning cocktail scene. And where better to start than at that flagship of Houston cocktail dens, the Anvil? So, if you're from out of town, or you're one of the 5 Houstonians who haven't yet discovered the Anvil, here's what to expect.


The Ambiance: Dark but not too dark, noisy but not too loud, and not too many decorations besides the jaw-droppingly huge selection of booze lining the wall behind the bar. Just how a bar should be. I think my favorite thing, though, about the atmosphere at the Anvil is the smells. I try not to admit this too often, but...I love the way bars smell. And the Anvil has the best smell of any bar I've ever been to - like spices and bourbon and campari and maybe a hint of tobacco. (And maybe cheese? Kassie said it smelled like cheese.) Whatever it is, it's interesting and manly and delicious and I love it.

holy crap, look at all those bitters.

The Crowd: When people first told me about the Anvil, I envisioned it as a sort of exalted cocktail mecca, the kind of tucked-away place where serious booze enthusiasts would calmly but earnestly debate the relative merits of say, shaking vs. stirring, while sipping a sazerac. It was, indeed, a cocktail mecca, but I was little off base with "calm". Shortly after it opened, the Anvil was such a scene that even earlier in the week, it was a fight to get to the bar. It was also a little bit of a pick-up bar - the sort of place where a random dude and his friends would approach you and your friends, offer to buy you a drink, and ask you if you were going to Pub Fiction after this. No, I am not going to Pub Fiction. I am going home, because it is 11 PM. On a Tuesday.

Things have calmed down a little since then, but you still never know quite what you're going to get. There's still the occasional bunch of toolios who only want to drink absinthe and miller lite, but you're just as likely to run into 40-something businesspeople. (Not that I'm hating on miller lite. It's just that there's a time and a place for miller lite, and this is not the place. Now, absinthe and miller lite together...that could be interesting.)

Weekends are still pretty packed, so if you want to ensure yourself a spot at the bar so you can watch the magic, go early. Like, 7 on a Monday or Tuesday night.

The Drinks: Ohh, the drinks. When I first started plotting to do a post about the Anvil, long, long ago, they had a section of their menu with a list of "100 Classic Cocktails to Try Before You Die". Well, the 100 cocktails are no longer a part of the menu, although you can still see the list, posted in a rather inauspicious location on the far wall of the bar. (It's the wall opposite the door as you come in. Or you can view the list here.) They've been replaced with a rotating seasonal menu of original drinks developed by the Anvil staff, which are all very delicious. The good news is, you can still order all the old cocktails, as long as you know what to ask for. So if you're yearning for a classic, or you just want to feel like an insider for ordering off the menu - here's a list of my Top 5 Classic Cocktails to Order "Off the Menu" at the Anvil.

1. The Bramble
This is the first drink I ever ordered at the Anvil. I finished it in about 45 seconds, and then bad things happened. But I don't blame the drink, I blame me. Okay, I blame the drink a little. This combo of gin, lemon, and creme de muir (blackberry liqueur) is so delicious and smooth that it's easy to forget you're drinking something very powerful.

2. The Seelbach
Kassie gets credit for discovering this delicious and very unusual cocktail. The first time she ordered one it actually came with a warning from the bartender - there's a lot of bitters in this one. Are you sure that's what you want? Of course, Kassie is never one to back down from a challenge. The Seelbach tastes like no champagne cocktail I've ever had - it's a deep, rich, complicated taste that reminds me of a nice complex Napa cabernet. Thanks to the Ted Haigh book, I now know that this is because the recipe for a Seelbach involves: champagne, bourbon, cointreau, and seven dashes each of both peychaud's and angostura bitters. For those playing along at home: that is a whole, whole lot of bitters. Yet somehow it works.

3. The Mint Julep
On the seventh day, God rested, and on the 8th day he invented the mint julep. People sometimes ask me what my favorite cocktail is, and this is always my answer. The combination of bourbon, sugar, and mint is stupidly simple and stupidly good. And the mint juleps at the Anvil are a real feat of artistry - piled high with crushed ice like a bourbon sno-cone. I mean - I just said "bourbon sno-cone". What more could you want?

4. The Blood and Sand
This cocktail, named for a 1922 Rudolph Valentino film, is a relative rarity: a mixed drink made with scotch. The combination of scotch, sweet vermouth, oj and cherry brandy might seem a little unusual, but you will only think that until you take your first sip. It's perfectly balanced, not too fruity, not too scotch-y. (Although it's difficult to imagine how something could taste too much like scotch.)

the Blood & Sand.

5. The Zombie
Probably the most famous cocktail invented by Don the Beachcomber during the post World-War II tiki explosion. (I especially enjoy the phrase "tiki explosion".) There are a lot of bad zombie variations out there, but the Anvil has got it right. (And if the original version is a little too sweet for you, I've heard you can get one made with Fernet Branca. Iiiinteresting.) At least half the fun of ordering any drink at the Anvil is watching all the artistry that goes into making it, and this one is especially enjoyable, since this delicious, rummy bit of cocktail history contains about 52 different ingredients. Of course, since so much work goes into making this drink, if you order one on a busy night your bartender will probably hate you. Save this one for a weeknight. And don't forget to leave a nice big tip.

Where to get farm-fresh produce in Houston.

The first time I ever went to a farmers market* was a few months ago. Now, thanks to this little project, I am quickly becoming an expert on tracking down local produce. Here are some of my favorite sources:

Urban Harvest Farmers Market
Every Saturday, rain or shine, 8 AM-noon. Located just east of Greenway Plaza and conveniently right next door to my office (although I try not to go to work on the weekend when I can help it). You can also buy fruit trees here - check out their website.

Farmers Market at Rice University
For those who are loathe to wake up before noon on Saturday (me). Tuesdays, 3:30 to 7 PM.

Midtown Farmers Market
Saturday, 8 AM-noon. In the parking lot of T'afia, one of my favorite local restaurants. Haven't tried this one yet, but fresh fruit, hot breakfast and mimosas? Now there's a reason to wake up before noon.

If you can't make it to the farmers market, Whole Foods is also a good source for locally-grown produce - just look for the signs that say "local" or "go Texan". And you can gawk at all the hippies. No, just kidding.

*Does the lack of an apostrophe in this phrase bother anyone besides me? It's the market belonging to the farmers, right? Not a market where one buys farmers. Maybe I should change the name of this blog to "The Backyard Grammar Nazi".