LESS OLD-FASHIONED

Purists frown on adding a maraschino cherry to an Old Fashioned cocktail, though this is how it’s typically served these days. The traditional recipe calls for a little pure cane syrup, a dash of Angostura bitters, a bit of orange peel, Bourbon and four ice cubes.

In New Orleans recently I discovered an interesting variation. At the restaurant Herbsaint I ordered an Old Fashioned and it was served with small peeled slices of orange and a couple of dried cherries which had been marinated in cherry liqueur. The marinated cherries were delicious, way more interesting than a bland, over-sweet maraschino cherry.

They added a distinct flavor to the drink — actually made it too fruity with the addition of the sections of orange — but on their own with just the traditional orange peel they would make a good substitute for a maraschino cherry, if a cherry is something you want in your Old Fashioned.

DRINKING WITH HEMINGWAY

This is a Papa Doble, a Daiquirí that Hemingway was fond of drinking at the Floridita Bar in Havana. I made it from a recipe that A. E. Hotchner wrote down one day while hanging with Papa at the fabled watering hole.

That’s Hemingway below, of course, sitting at his favorite spot at the bar, between Spencer Tracy and his wife Mary.

Hotchner’s recipe calls for the juice of two limes, the juice of one half grapefruit, six drops of cherry brandy and three ounces of Bacardi rum (or Havana Club rum if you can find it.) You put this in a blender 1/3 filled with ice and blend at high speed until the mixture turns the color of “the sea where the wave falls away from the bow of a ship when she is doing thirty knots”, as Hemingway helpfully explains.

It’s a wonderfully refreshing drink, slightly tart but still festive. Don’t try to drink as many of them as Hemingway could at one sitting, sixteen by some reports — you’ll live longer.

Update — this recipe produces a drink that’s too strong, not for Papa, maybe, but too strong for me.  I recommend adding twice as much grapefruit juice, which will produce enough for three medium-sized Daiquirís.  If you want it to taste more like a traditional Daiquirí, add more cherry brandy or a bit of cane syrup to sweeten it.  I myself find the unsweetened drink more satisfying — more bracing, like a breeze coming in off the ocean.

THE COMMANDERS

Bill, Paul and Adrienne outside Commander’s Palace in New Orleans, just a couple of blocks from where Bill and Adrienne live. A visit to this legendary restaurant, where you find the apotheosis of creole cooking, should be a life goal for anyone who has not experienced it.

Let’s step inside and have a cocktail before ordering . . .

Now, after the meal, we can pass through the kitchen on our way out — traversing sacred territory . . .

How fine it was, a meal to remember, as always at Commander’s Palace.

SIX HOURS FROM NOW

. . . it will be beef stew. Trust me on this.

[Update — two hours later the apartment is filled with the aromas of beef, onion, garlic and mushrooms stewing in red wine.  This is the most difficult time in the preparation of slow-cooked food, knowing that another four hours must pass before the first meal can be made of it.  Those four hours, however, help build moral character.]