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At the risk of sounding like a proper and true lush, the week before last was another week of very many cocktails. An interview with a gin maker, a story about juleps for Kentucky Derby, a taste test of a truly revoltingly sweet RTD (that’s ready to drink) that was meant to be a combo of melon and absinthe, though why you would ever pair the two, I do not know. My good friend Maureen, had a book party on Wednesday afternoon. It’s a cocktail book, (The Cocktail Club: A Year of Recipes and Tips for Spirited Tasting Parties
At that party I ran into another friend who I hadn’t spent time with in ages and so went off to another party with her, which involved sipping Gin and Tonics on a rooftop in the shadow of the Empire State Building. And then naturally we headed to late night Korean BBQ, as you do. Thursday I was not going to drink. At all. But that pledge was quickly forgotten as I walked into a Peruvian Quinoa dinner and was handed a Pisco Sour. Then a ginger Pisco Sour. Then a Pisco punch, which has it’s roots in San Francisco you know, then an old-Fashioned made with Pisco — with QUINOA simple syrup — followed by a Pisco Tom Collins, and a Chilcano — pisco, bitters, ginger all & lime — which all of the Peruvian chefs at my end of the table insisted was the best way to drink pisco. And when one of said Peruvian chefs said, hey come back to my restaurant, My chef friend M & I said sure. I’m not going to lie, there may have been more Pisco partaken there.
It was a week filled with unexpected delights, laughter, drama, and friends. It was the very exact reason you live in New York City. But it was also like falling down the rabbit hole — every time I walked out the door, I had no idea where I would end up or when I may be back. It also involved lots of mind altering potions. The long days & night, combined with a refreshed sense of joie de vivre and the fact that my long overdue haircut had been cancelled on Monday left me feeling rather brightly bedraggled. My style solution was a messy bun, sunglasses and very red lipstick. I had the hope that it was coming off as very French, but when I caught a glimpse of myself in the office mirror on Friday, it was more Amy Winehouse goes to Grey Gardens, takes a nap on the beach and then pops up and has another drink with the Edies.
By the time I hit the Greenmarket on saturday, I was ready for some clean living and eating. And it was the perfect week for it, as all of the Spring greens have finally started to sprout up and I scooped up armfuls of mizuna, wild arugula, mustard greens, and every other spring lettuce I could find. New obsession: claytonia, which is also known as Miner’s lettuce or winter purslane. Fun fact: It’s called Miner’s lettuce because miners foraged for it during the Gold Rush in order to avoid scurvy, because it provided a rare winter source of vitamin C. It’s also weirdly high in Omega-3 fatty acids and dietary minerals.
I’ve been throwing the mild, slightly sweet, tart, heart shaped leaves into bitter spicy salads, topped with simply poached fish and dressed in this creamy, citrusy salad dressing. The juice of one lime, 1/2 an orange, 1/2 a grapefruit whisked in a small bowl with 1 tablespoon of mustard, 1 tablespoon mayonnaise, 1/2 a teaspoon of honey, and 1/3 a cup of olive oil.
