Sunday, September 18, 2016

Drink 47: Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew


The Name: Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew                                                                                

The Bar: The Blind Barber (339 East 10th St., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: I love second-hand books. I love how they're already a bit worn, and I love how you can sometimes find old books that are out of print. I've already talked about the time I found a bizarre book that I happened to read through and was so glad I did. Well, this story is about the time my mom happened upon a strange book, to hilarious results.

She was walking in our neighborhood and came across some old books for sale at a cheap price. My mom loves to cook, and so an old cookbook caught her eye. It was compiled by The Ladies of the Living History Association, a group of historical reenactors, and it was initially published in 1968. It was only $1.50 so she decided to look through it and see if it was interesting.



The cookbook is filled with recipe submissions that people sent in. The recipes are for the most part informally written--very few precise measurements. And the recipes are overly simple at best, and outright disgusting at worst. Seasoning hadn't quite been invented yet, and pretty much every recipe involves boiling meat and potatoes until all flavor is lost. There's a whole section on recipes that you can cook in this new-fangled thing called the microwave! But, despite the quality of the recipes, it's important to note that it's a serious cookbook. These are dishes that people actually prepared. This book was meant to be a real cookbook. And the reason that I emphasize this is because, amidst all of these actual recipes, my mom landed on this recipe, supposedly submitted by a certain Colonel A. Wurzberger.

Each member of my family read this one by one, and none of us could get through it without cracking up. Even before the hare pun, it's such a wonderfully silly and ridiculous joke. I love the casual statements, like, "Cook for about 4 weeks," and, "This will serve 3800 people." And, I also love the name Colonel A. Wurzberger. It HAS to be a pseudonym, of course, but if so, where did whoever wrote this come up with it? It so perfectly conjures up the image of some retired army general in full military garb. And to imagine such an official-looking figure painstakingly cutting up an elephant into bite-size pieces for two months straight is so ludicrous. Really the whole recipe is an absolute masterpiece.

But what makes the whole thing complete is the fact that it's in the cookbook at all. Obviously, the person who submitted this (Colonel A. Wurzberger, of course) knew it was a joke, but it remains to be seen if the Ladies of the Living History Association did. Did they simply compile all the recipes they received without actually reading any of them, and this one made it in through the cracks? Did they read the recipe and not realize it was a joke? Or did they get the joke, and decide to put it into their cookbook anyway? I genuinely don't know. But I'm so glad this cookbook exists, and that my mom was lucky enough to stumble onto it on the street and bring Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew into our lives.

Ordering The Drink: After getting two drinks with my friend Pat--The Christopher Walken Duck Joke and The Day The Clown Cried--we decided to hop bars once again and set a new record for the most rounds of What's That Drink played in one night! And we knew exactly where to go: The Blind Barber. This is another hidden bar, and as the name suggests, it's located in the back of a barbershop. And it's a real barbershop--you can get a haircut and then go to the back and get a drink. I'd never been there, but I'd heard about it. It's always included on lists of the best speakeasies in New York City, and is known for having especially unusual cocktails, so it's somewhere I've been meaning to go for this blog for quite some time. Pat has been there before, and confirmed that it's a really neat place with a cool vibe and great drinks. We stopped for dinner first, since we had each had several strong drinks by now, and then went off towards The Blind Barber.

We stepped through the door in the back of the barbershop and, I have to admit, both of us were surprised. There was a live DJ sitting in one corner, and incredibly loud pop music blasting throughout the bar. If a real blind barber were to go, they would think it was a nightclub, not a tiny place known for unusual cocktails. Nightclubs aren't really my thing--I like to be able to hear myself think--but I know that a lot of people do like them and that's fine. But, the decor of The Blind Barber would never suggest "nightclub." It's decorated in an old-school Victorian style, with old books and photographs everywhere. It's beautiful, but you'd think that the music would be jazz, not Jay-Z.

Me, expressing my annoyance at the loud music blasting in this otherwise quaint library room.

It didn't help that the bar was pretty empty too. It was a Tuesday night, and when Pat and I walked in there were only three people on the dance floor and no one else in sight. They were awkwardly dancing as Pat and I screamed over each other. He apologized, and explained that the last time he was here, it was nothing like this. There was no music, and it had seemed like a really lovely hidden spot. The difference between what he described and what I'd heard about The Blind Barber, versus what we were actually experiencing, was night and day. And I really don't think that this was just me being like a crotchety old man. The loud music was simply odd for the environment. Reading online reviews, it's clear I'm not the only person who feels this way. It seems that after a certain time each night, the place suddenly changes completely. I'd certainly prefer to have been there earlier in the evening!

But, never mind that, we were here for drinks, and I was still excited to get some interesting cocktails! Pat ordered his favorite drink from the menu in both name and content-- the Sweeney Ted--which was absolutely delicious. But I went ahead and, of course, ordered the Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew. The bartender initially seemed reluctant, and hesitant to know if this was what I really wanted. "There must be a kind of alcohol you want?" he insisted, and I promised him that I really would be happy with whatever he put together, as long as it fit the name. I eventually convinced him and he put the drink together.

The Drink:

 
Bourbon
Dry Vermouth
Pineapple Juice
Simple Syrup 

Assessment of Drink: Earlier in the night, Pat had asked me if I'd ever gotten a really bad drink while doing this blog. And the truth is that I've only had one actively awful-tasting drink. And 1 out of 46 isn't too bad. But, while Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew was nowhere near as bad as The Brave Potato, it was not a good drink. It was very watery, and though he said there was bourbon and vermouth in it, I didn't really taste it. The only thing you could taste was pineapple. Watery pineapple. And the simple syrup didn't help matters, making it a sweet drink and taking out any tartness or acidity the pineapple might have had. Now, don't get me wrong, I like the taste of pineapple. The drink wasn't inedible. But it wasn't a good drink. It's a drink that I would have expected to get at some dive bar, or at a party at a college frathouse. "Oh yeah, we'll throw together some pineapple and bourbon. Voila!" The vermouth might have elevated it, but like I said, I didn't get any hint of the vermouth at all. 

It was, all in all, incredibly disappointing. And I was more disappointed because I knew this bartender could have done better. Pat's drink was absolutely delicious, and actually took skill to make. This drink felt lazy. To the point that I don't know if he maybe presented it to me as a bit of a "fuck you." Maybe he really found my request insulting and decided to phone it in. But it was certainly not worth the $13 that all cocktails cost at The Blind Barber. I'd have rather he simply not agreed to make the drink at all.

Does It Live Up To The Name: That the drink itself wasn't great is one thing, but where I really felt this drink dropped the ball was in the creativity. Or, lack thereof. I happen to think that this was an especially great name for a cocktail. There's already a cocktail called The Colonel--made with whiskey, benedictine, and bitters--and the drink could have been a play on that. I've already had an elephant-themed drink before, which was served in a very creative way. And the word "stew"could have been a gift to a creative mixologist. Stews are sort of a mish-mosh of ingredients thrown together to create a cohesive whole. Here, the ingredients were so simple, and there were so few of them, that it would be a really lousy stew. He could have even focused on the Wurzberger and gone with a German theme. The name of this drink as a whole suggests a sort of strength. Stew of any sort would be hearty, and elephant stew especially so. Add in the military component, and I thought I'd get a strong drink. I certainly did not get that.

Perhaps if the bourbon had been more prominent, it would have made matter better, but I honestly am at a loss as to why this name conjured up the idea of pineapples. They seem to have come completely out of left field, and considering they were the dominant flavor of the drink, it's especially egregious. Looking at the picture of the drink, I wonder if perhaps the lemon was supposed to represent an elephant ear and the straw was supposed to be the trunk? But I think that's a stretch and I might be giving the bartender too much benefit of the doubt if I accept that as explanation.

On the whole, I'm sorry to say that I've never been let down by a bar on this blog as much as by The Blind Barber. The loud music was odd and unexpected, but the drinks could have more than made up for it. I have no doubt that their set cocktail menu is great--and like I said, the Sweeney Ted that Pat ordered was absolutely delicious. But despite my high hopes and expectations, I don't feel like I had a chance to try Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew. Perhaps I'll even try this name again in the future and see if I get better results. I do know that if I ever return to The Blind Barber, I'd certainly stick to their set menu, which I would like to try more. And I'd definitely come earlier in the evening, before its odd transformation into a noisy nightclub.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Miles,

    As requested I have come up with an alternative recipe for the Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew. I began with amarula. It is a cream liqueur made from the sweet and tangy marula fruit. Marula trees are native to the southern half of Africa and to Madagascar. The fruit is a favorite of elephants, so much so that an elephant appears on amarula bottles. The company that makes amarula has also set up a trust to protect its mascot, the African elephant.
    I mixed the amarula with strawberry and banana smoothie (Naked Juice variety if you are wondering). In an ideal world I would use fresh strawberries and bananas and perhaps a bit of plain yogurt. I'd mix the amarula and fruit in a blender and serve over crushed ice. It should look like and have the texture of a smoothie.
    With the elephant part down I wanted to make a nod to Colonel Wurzeberger. I floated ouzo (though jagermeister or any anise flavored liquor will do) on top of the drink. I wanted the Colonel's contribution to be sharp and slightly unpalatable, like the hare/hair in the stew or European colonialism (the latter is more than slightly unpalatable. More horrifying. Though its effects linger today as the licorice flavor will linger on the palate). For a more German influence (given the Germanic origin of Colonel Wurzberger's name) one could use jagermeister (Germany's own anise flavored digestif), rumpleminz (the pepppermint, while sharp, will go nicely with the white chocolate and fruit flavor of the rest of the drink), or Gold Schlager.
    Garnish with a long slice of black licorice. For the hare/hair.
    As I mentioned above, the overall flavor is a balanced sweetness with fruit flavors and somehow white chocolate (despite there being no chocolate in this drink). The float of licorice is a nice contrast. Drinkers will either sip the float first, or, if they use a straw, slurp it up as a final bitter note to a lovely dessert.
    I hope this lives up to what you imagined for Colonel Wurzberger's Elephant Stew.
    Sincerely,
    Jane

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