Drink 26: The African Violet (Part II)

The Name: The African Violet                                                                                

The Bar: The Cellar at Beecher's Handmade Cheese (900 Broadway, NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: In my last post, I explained all about how I have a younger sibling who just happens to be an African violet named Irving. And then explained how I tried to order a drink with this name, only to instead be given a drink with the worrying name "The African Violence." If you missed it, be sure to catch up here.

Ordering The Drink: A couple days after I first tried to order The African Violet, I went to catch a movie with my friend Kenny, who has been there when I got several of these drinks (the movie, by the way, was Jupiter Ascending which is one of the most glorious and ridiculous things I've ever seen). We ended up seeing the film later than previously anticipated, and decided to grab a quick bite to eat beforehand. We ended up going to Beecher's Handmade Cheese, a famous cheese shop in Seattle which also has an outpost in New York's Flatiron District, which has won awards for its mac and cheese. Unsurprisingly, I am a big fan. It's really great--even better than the amazing Mac and Cheese I had at Jacob's Pickles.

I mean, look at this.

We got there after the official lunchtime had ended, and happy hour had just begun. We went to a little underground bar area called "The Cellar" that was just very cool--it felt like a sort of a secret medieval room. Very neat--and even if it was a bit dungeonesque, it felt like a bit of an oasis from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The decor at The Cellar

To my surprise, The Cellar also boasts a really impressive classic cocktail menu (the drinks are inspired by the architect Stanford White and his womanizing reputation). I had come there for cheese, but it became clear that this was the perfect place to get The African Violet. One of the cocktails on the menu--the Bedrock--even had Creme De Violette in it, so this was perfect.

So, I ordered a cocktail and mac and cheese. Kenny went the much more sophisticated route and ordered a cheese plate and a glass of red wine.

I told him to "look intelligent" and this was the best he could do.

The bartender--a really friendly young guy named David-- came to our table to take our order. When I explained that I wanted a drink called The African Violet, he seemed on board with the idea, but also seemed fairly tentative in terms of coming up with a drink. As he thought, he said "Usually when people say they have a strange request, it isn't all that strange. But...this definitely is a strange request." He mentioned that he'd definitely put Creme de Violette in it, which is an obvious choice but definitely strikes me as the right one (for those who don't know, it's actually made from the violet flower and is usually violet in color), but was having a tough time with the rest of the drink. "I don't want to do anything insensitive," he said, which struck me as a strange comment, but also, yeah, I don't want a racist drink. It's funny, I've thought about ordering this drink for a while, and had always thought it would be one of the easier drink names, so I'm surprised it's given these bartenders so much trouble!

Trouble or not, after a while, David returned with my drink

The Drink:

The African Violet, with Kenny's cheese plate in the background.

Espolon Tequila

Cranberry juice

Lime juice

Simple Syrup

Creme de violette to finish

Lemon and lime garnish

Assessment of Drink: This was great--the tequila, cranberry, and lime combination is pretty classic, but this was very nice and well balanced. Tequila is tricky--it's incredibly delicious, but can also be overpowering. In many tequila drinks, the tequila is either overpowering or not present. I worried when David put the drink down that the latter would be the case--and that the addition of the simple syrup might make the drink overly sweet. But this drink was quite well made. The use of cranberry and lime is a familiar combination in particular (most people have at one point had a Cosmopolitan, which made with vodka, cranberry, lime, and triple sec) so this drink already felt like a standard. I do wish the creme de violette had been more present. It's a very subtle flavor--on its own it is distinctly sweet and floral, but is certainly a much more muted flavor than a lot of liqueurs, and often serves as an accent to a drink. The most famous creme de violette cocktail is probably the Aviation, which is creme de violette, gin, lemon juice, and maraschino liqueur. Here, the gin and lemon juice are also quieter flavors so the creme de violette has a chance to really affect the profile of the drink. When paired with something like tequila, however, the creme de violette was pretty lost, and I wouldn't have been able to identify in the drink had I not been told it was there. That doesn't mean it didn't have an affect on the drink--it probably brought out the sweetness of the cranberry as opposed to the tartness, for example--but on its own it was lost on me. But, I very much enjoyed the drink. I'd certainly order it again...although I want to try one of the more traditional cocktails on the menu at The Cellar first. And I'll have the chance--I definitely have to return there sometime for both drinks and cheese, two of the greatest things on earth.

My next blog will be called "What's That Cheese" and it's just where people feed me cheese. I'm really excited for it.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Not really. I'm glad (and unsurprised) that this drink had creme de violette in it, but for a drink with "violet" in the name, I would think that it might have been more present. Honestly, I kind of wanted a purple drink, which this certainly was not. Now, David had mentioned that he was struggling to think of a way to incorporate the "African" part of the name, and his strategy here seemed to be to just ignore it entirely. Granted, it's tough, but tequila--specifically when he mentioned a specific brand like Espolon, which he did--is so very identifiable with Mexico that it is not even possible to consider it as African. And then flavors like cranberry and lime don't really help make the drink feel more African. It definitely is tough to make a drink that feels African, but David didn't do himself any favors by bringing in flavors which are decidedly reminiscent of another region of the globe altogether.

The most identifiably African liqueur is something called Amarula, which is a cream liqueur like Bailey's but African instead of Irish, and with more flavors of fruit and caramel. And while Amarula is not necessarily a staple of most bars, and most people might not know about it, if I were to make a drink, i might want to go the route of making a creamy drink based on that. Especially since I think that creme de violette would pair really well with a creamier drink. Maybe we could bring in flavors like banana or cinnamon which are common in Africa. I will admit that this drink name was a lot tougher than I would have initially thought, but I still think that it could have been conveyed much better than what I've gotten twice now.

So, all in all, I don't think this drink really represented the African Violet. But "Irving" is an unconventional name for an African violet, after all, and the two drinks I've gotten in pursuit of this name have both been rather yummy. And I'll definitely be returning to The Cellar--I've known about Beecher's award-winning cheeses for a long time, but I'm glad that I stumbled upon its secret underground bar, almost by accident. It's a really cool place with really great drinks, that are certainly worth checking out.

The check comes on a little cheeseboard which is adorable. Kenny tried to chop off his fingers on it, which is less adorable.

Drink 12: Comedian Jack

The Name: Comedian Jack                                                                              

The Bar: Quinn's NYC Bar & Grill (356 West 44th st., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: I consider myself a very rational person. I’m one of those people who tends to not believe something unless I have proof of it. So, for example, I don’t believe in ghosts as every single video I’ve seen of “real” ghosts caught on camera can be easily explained. To be fair, I’ve spoken to rational and trustworthy people who claim to have had encounters with ghosts, and some have told me stories which I can’t easily explain. But in these situations, I prefer to think that there IS an explanation, and I simply don’t have enough information to know what that explanation is. Now, the following story is not a ghost story, but it falls into the same category for me. There is undoubtedly an explanation behind what I'm about to tell you…but I simply don’t have enough information to tell you what it is.

The story takes place many years ago—I'm pretty sure I was in either fourth or fifth grade. My dad works in fundraising and at the time, he worked at Gilda’s Club—a fantastic organization if you don’t know of it. He was putting together a large gala to feature various acts. It was a pretty big project, which is why, one Saturday morning, he had to check his work messages from home.

My mom and I were talking about something or other when, suddenly, one of us noticed my dad. His face was completely red from laughter. But we hadn’t noticed because it was that type of laughter where he was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out at all. Something was, apparently, very funny on the other line. We asked him what it was…a question that we should have known he wouldn’t be able to answer since, at the moment, he couldn’t do far simpler activities. Like breathing. After several minutes, he finally calmed down and regained his composure. He held out the phone and said “Just…just listen.”

The following is, to the best that I can transcribe it so many years later, the message that I heard on the phone. There are a lot of ellipses used in this transcription. Every time you see one, it means that there was a significant pause in the voicemail. Like, a two or three second pause. And if that doesn’t sound like a long time, actually count out three seconds every time you see the ellipsis. Got it? Are you ready? Here we go:

“My name…is Jack…I am…comedian…I want…to be…in your show…I am comedian…I can be reached at…212…4 I am comedian……5264…My name is Jack…32…My name is…Jack…I want to be in your show…I am comedian…I want to be in your show."

Now, as I said, I heard this message so many years ago and there’s no way that I can remember it exactly. The phone number is definitely made up. But, I feel I did a good job with the transcription. Especially because it’s basically just the same three phrases over and over again—repeated in a seemingly random fashion. Other than the phrases “My name is Jack,” “I am comedian,” and “I want to be in your show,” the only other thing Jack says here is his phone number…and EVEN THEN HE INTERRUPTS HIMSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PHONE NUMBER to say “I am comedian.” And while I don’t remember the phone number, I do remember how he told it. He definitely said “I am comedian” in the middle of the number…and divided it up in a weird way so that you kind of had to hear the message twice to actually figure out the correct phone number.

Now, as I said, I don’t know the full story here. It is very possible that I should not be making fun of Jack at all. It’s possible—probable, even—that English is not his first language. And I really do not intend to mock anyone just for not being able to speak a second language, ESPECIALLY as I do not speak another language myself. It’s further possible that Jack is a noble man with a dream: a dream of being a stand-up comic, and he can think of no better way to start than by volunteering his gift for charity. It’s even possible that the message was meant to be a joke. My family and I were certainly laughing—maybe that was the point? Maybe this message was left in character, as an accurate example of how funny he could be.

But I don’t know. I don’t know if any of these explanations are true. I don’t know if more than one of these explanations are true. I don’t know if none of these explanations are true-- maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe it was a prank call. I just don’t know. And that's all part of the mystique of Jack the comedian. Jack is a man of mystery. This brief voicemail message is the only thing we ever learned about Jack (my dad, for some reason, did not elect to call him back to include him in the gala). In fact, I know exactly three things about Jack:

1. His name is Jack.
2. He is comedian.
3. He wanted to be in my dad’s show.

That’s it. That’s all we know. I warned you at the beginning that this story has no explanation. It's one of the great mysteries encountered throughout history: crop circles, stonehenge, and a voicemail left by a guy who claims to be named Jack.

Frankly, as much as I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, I wouldn’t be all that surprised to learn that there’s a supernatural reason behind Jack’s message. Maybe Jack is a ghost, speaking from beyond the veil, but he can only deliver his message in twenty words or less. Hence how important it is to make sure we really understand the main points of his message. Maybe he’s an extra-terrestrial, who is still getting a handle on human syntax.

"We come in peace. We want to be in your show."

All I know is that the message was one of the funniest and strangest things I’d ever heard in my life at that point…and it continues to be until this day. Even now, my parents and I still quote the odd voicemail sometimes. He may not have been in the show, but like any good comedian, Jack succeeded in making a lasting impression.

While some comedians have been unable to make an impression of any sort, despite having inexplicably prolific careers.

 

Ordering The Drink: Fans of the blog will remember my friend Kenny, who has shown up several times, and had a drink made in his honor with the Evil Rapping Clown. Well, the other night, I went to see Kenny in a play. Worryingly, he was once again playing a creepy clown. Many actors fear getting typecast. Few worry about getting typecast specifically as an evil clown.

You can visit the show's website here.

Afterwards, a group of Kenny's friends and fans went out to a bar next door called Quinn's. I was, admittedly, a bit skeptical of the type of drink I would receive. The bar was perfectly nice and we all had a great time-- it was a reliable theater district bar. But my impression was that beer was the main item on the menu here-- just like another bar where I received the only definitively bad drink I've gotten for this blog thus far. That's why I chose to assign this bartender the Comedian Jack-- because it struck me as a really easy name to make a drink for. If you put Jack Daniel's in it you'll meet the challenge. As long as the bartender didn't combine it with something awful-- like chocolate milk, dish soap, or sorrow-- then I would probably be fine.

Unfortunately, as I ordered the drink, I became afraid that such a drink would be coming my way after all. The bartender was a sullen man-- not old, but older than a lot of the bartenders I've had thus far. Again, just like the last time I received a bad drink. And, for the first time since I started this blog, I almost thought he would deny the request. When I explained my request, he just kind of stared at me blankly. "What's the drink name, again?" he asked with more than a hint of edge in his voice. "A Comedian Jack," I replied, trying to come across as friendly and unirritating as possible. As he continued to stare at me, I reminded him that he didn't have to do it if he didn't want to, to which he responded, "No, I can do it." And went about making the drink.

To keep myself from feeling too nervous about the drink, I took the time to snap a bad photo of our table from the bar.

Luckily I didn't have to wait for long. Soon, he was back and...amazingly, was all smiles. "Here you go!" he cheerily announced, "a Comedian Jack!" The change was somewhat alarming. The once sullen and cranky bartender was suddenly downright enthusiastic and pleasant and amiable. My guess is that he just had a long shift and I caught him at a bad time at first-- which is totally understandable. It's also possible that, when I wasn't looking, his other bartender had performed a terrifying Stepford Wives-like procedure on him.

"Why Beth, this Jack Daniels and Sorrow is delicious!"

The Drink:

The Comedian Jack

Jack Daniel's Tennessee Honey Whiskey

Ginger Ale

Sour Mix

Lime garnish

Assessment of Drink: Showing that you shouldn't judge a bar by its cover, this drink was really delicious! It, of course, helps that I'm a big fan of Jack Daniel's Honey. As far as whiskey's go, it's certainly not the most authentic or potent or even whiskey-like, but it's a delicious liquor to sip, and I feel like even people who don't usually love whiskey would enjoy this one. I've heard it dismissed as being "Whiskey Lite" in the past, but it's delicious and that's what should be most important. I highly recommend it.

This is a simple cocktail, but the other two ingredients work really well with it. The honey whiskey  is, unsurprisingly, predominantly sweet. That sweetness works perfectly with the spiciness of the ginger ale and the sourness of the sour mix. That's a complex flavor profile there, and I like it! It still errs on the side of sweet, of course, but not too overpoweringly so. Really great stuff-- and it's one that would be easy to make at home.

Does It Live Up To The Name: As I mentioned before, this was an easy name to make a drink out of, and the bartender met my expectations. The presence of Jack Daniel's makes the drink fit the name pretty well-- I could definitely see this drink be listed on a drinks menu under its assigned name. There's nothing particularly "funny" about it to imply that this Jack is specifically a comedian, but I don't mind too much. It still worked.

But, maybe since I'd just seen Kenny play a creepy clown and therefore had the Evil Rapping Clown on the brain, I will admit I was hoping for a maraschino cherry garnish-- to represent the clown nose as it did in that drink. That would have been a nice touch-- even though it would have suggested clown instead of comedian. And those are two different things.

Well, usually.

 Overall, it was a great drink, and a great bar. Bars are a dime a dozen around the theater district and Hell's Kitchen, but Quinn's proved to be an above average watering hole. If you need a good reliable bar in the area, I'd certainly recommend it.

Drinks with friends after a show-- nothing is better. Kenny seems happy, and he wasn't even aware the picture was being taken.

Drink 11: The Lord of Sealand

The Name: The Lord of Sealand                                                                                 

The Bar: The Dead Poet (450 Amsterdam Avenue, NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: Some of you might know about Sealand. If you do not already, then be prepared: Sealand is about to become your favorite place in the world.

Not to be confused with the terrifying murder park known as SeaWorld, Sealand is a principality off the coast of England which has a rather interesting history. If you want a full detailed description of the principality, you can check out its hilarious wikipedia page here. But I'll be describing all of the highlights here if you don't feel like skimming the full article. What makes Sealand so great? Well, you remember that episode of Family Guy-- back when it was actually a good show-- where Peter discovers that due to a mapping error, his house does not technically fall on U.S. territory and so he declares it its own nation? Well, Sealand is kind of like that. By which I mean it is exactly like  that, but even crazier. To start, Sealand is not actually land at all-- it's a manmade pontoon which was built to be used as a radio tower during WWII.

The majestic nation of Sealand.

That picture is actually a picture of this place.

After maps were being redrawn in the wake of WWII, it's understandable that no one actually claimed the random floating radio station as being part of their territory. Therefore, the radio station went unclaimed and forgotten. Forgotten, that is, until a British army major and pirate radio broadcaster named Paddy Roy Bates moved his family to the radio station and declared it its own nation. The nation of Sealand.

Bates and his wife Joan, holding Sealand's flag.

Now, this may sound ridiculous...and it is. But the thing that makes it more ridiculous is that there's nothing anyone can do to stop him. Technically, the radio station is not owned by anyone. So, technically, Paddy Roy Bates was completely correct-- this manmade pontoon which is only 13 kilometers long qualifies as its own nation. Britain even took him to court to try and prove otherwise and the BRITISH COURT DECIDED THAT THEY DID NOT HAVE JURISDICTION OVER THE AREA. So, the British judicial system itself agrees that Bates is technically correct and it's his own nation. This kind of pisses Britain off-- a nation which is known for once conquering, like, everyone now cannot even takeover an old cantankerous radio DJ and his family. At one point they even sent armed naval ships to the radio tower to ask Bates and his family to leave. But Bates just said no and there was nothing they could do about it so they had to leave. Paddy Roy Bates stood down a navy.

Despite the fact that legally, everything about Sealand is completely sound and it's technically its own nation, it is not recognized by a single world government. Government leaders, presumably, cite the fact that "It's a fucking radio tower" as their reason for not recognizing the nation.

They even have their own currency! The currency is not accepted anywhere other than in Sealand. Sealand has no shops in which you could spend money.

To make things even funnier, Britain isn't the only nation which has claimed ownership over Sealand. At one point, a German lawyer named Alexander Achenbach, who served as Sealand's prime minister and held a Sealand passport, felt that Sealand should be his. Along with a team of German and Dutch forces, he attacked Sealand in an attempt to take it over. It should be noted that Achenbach's small army attacked on speedboats and jet skis. Things got pretty intense-- and the forces went so far as to kidnap Bates' son Michael and hold him hostage. Yeah. I warned you it was intense. Achenbach was tried with treason against the Sealand government and fined 75,000 Deutsche marks. Achenbach, backed by the governments of The Netherlands, Germany, and Austria, appealed to the British courts to overturn this fine, but were unable to successfully do so. Because, again, the U.K. had to admit that they have no jurisdiction at all over this nation.

By the way, Achenbach still claims to be the rightful leader of Sealand and has established his own government, called the Sealand Rebel Government. So...Sealand has not one, but two governments. Beautiful.

They even applied to the U.N. for nation status. The U.N. has yet to vote on their membership status-- because if they did, they might actually have to accept that there's no legal reason to deny them membership. So, they've just chosen not to vote.

As a reminder, the nation in question looks like this.

Here are some other fun facts about Sealand:

• It has its own national anthem, although said anthem does not have any words. 
• When tourists visit Sealand, its population doubles.
• As they have no room for athletic arenas, training grounds, or, frankly, any actual athletes, Sealand obviously has no official sports teams. However, various individual athletes and teams have competed in the name of Sealand-- therefore being "official Sealand athletes." In 2006, a Canadian named Michael Martelle officially represented Sealand in the World Cup of Kung Fu, and won two silver medals-- meaning that Sealand was represented on an official athletic podium. A Sealand team also placed 11th at the 2010 U.K. Ultimate Frisbee National Championships.
• But the best sports news regarding Sealand is that they have a national curling team founded in 2012 which plays out of Minnesota. Also, the official sport of Sealand is mini-golf.
• A mountaineer with the awesome name of Kenton Cool placed Sealand's flag at the summit of Mount Everest last May.
• And, lastly, in 2006, the platform caught fire due to an electrical failure. Making it the only nation in history that has ever almost burned down. Luckily, the fire was put out. By a tugboat.

 

Sealand on fire.

Clearly, I love Sealand. The second I learned about it, I was fascinated. Quite frankly, the fact that Sealand exists makes me so unbelievably happy. There's something so magical about the fact that this could happen-- that a radio tower can legally claim itself to be its own nation and that no governing body has any ability to deny it. It makes the world seem more wondrous and full of possibilities-- that anything could happen. If Sealand exists, perhaps centaurs do too? You really never know.

The entire population of Sealand waves to a plane overhead.

I try to tell as many people as humanly possible about the existence of Sealand, so that they may experience the same joy that it has brought me. If you and I have a conversation for long enough, eventually I will start telling you about Sealand.

And then, my freshman year of college, the greatest thing ever happened. You see, as a source of revenue, people may purchase various titles which can be bestowed upon them by the Sealand government. Clearly aware of my infatuation with the magical floating radio tower, some friends found this out and, as a birthday present, my wonderful friends Charley and Mara bought me a Lordship.

This means that I am, officially, a Lord of Sealand. It is my proudest accomplishment in life and I did absolutely nothing to achieve it. Which makes this Lordship fit very much with the spirit of Sealand, no?

Ordering The Drink: My friend Kenny and I were out at The Dead Poet-- my personal favorite bar in my neighborhood on the Upper West Side. While a bit small, this place just has a great vibe, and a really awesome literary theme. It's decorated with quotes from famous authors about alcohol, and features a special list of cocktails named after dead poets (my personal favorite drink to get is the Walt Whitman).

At first, I was not planning on ordering a drink for this blog, having made a post so recently, but I decided that I had to after meeting our server, Liam. Liam is awesome-- he had a great and quirky energy and was just a lot of fun. He even brought us free popcorn!

Kenny inhales the popped corn.

Seriously, Liam is the greatest. We're facebook friends now. Not even kidding. Liam, if you're reading this, then hi! You're famous now!

I knew immediately that he'd be on board for taking a weird drink request, and have been wanting to order a drink by this name for a while, so I decided to go for it. Sure enough, Liam accepted the request without hesitation and passed the order onto the bartender, a guy named Tim.

In just what might truly be the worst picture I've taken for this blog, Liam gives our drink order to Tim. Liam is the one blob talking to the other blob.

 Not too long after, the drink came out, served in one of the Dead Poet's custom glasses. Fun fact-- they have a drink called The Dead Poet which is served in a customized Dead Poet glass which you get to keep!

The Drink:

Crown Royal Whiskey

Ginger Ale

Lime

Assessment of Drink:When the drink was first set down Kenny wondered if it was the same as the one that he had ordered, just in a different glass.

The Tennessee Williams and the Lord of Sealand, together at last.

But they were, of course, very different (the Tennessee Williams, by the way, is a traditional sweet tea and vodka). My first impression of the Lord of Sealand is that it is quite refreshing! The Crown Royal pairs well with ginger ale, and the lime is a nice acidic touch-- not overpowering but there's definitely a pleasant hint of it. There's not too much to say about this one, to be honest. It was good. Crisp. Would order again.

Not only would I order it again, but I've had it in the past. You see, this particular blended whiskey is known to go specifically well with ginger ale, so this cocktail is already rather well-known under the apt name of Crown & Ginger. So I've had this drink before and had enjoyed it before. And this one was very well done-- good job, Tim.

I'm actually not that surprised to have received a drink which already existed. I mentioned that The Dead Poet features drinks named after dead poets-- but these are not new cocktails. Many of them are already pre-existing cocktails which have been assigned to various poets. Whitman is a Long Island Iced Tea, Dylan Thomas is a dirty martini, Langston Hughes is a sidecar, etc. So, it makes sense to me that this drink would not be completely new and never seen before.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Now, you might remember that the last time I received a previously-existing drink, I was rather disappointed at the lack of originality. But that's because the drink had very little to do with the name, and so it felt lazy. In this case, the drink really works. The Crown Royal is a great way to imply the title of Lordship. "Crown," get it? And the lime feels tropical, and puts one in mind of the seaside (hence, Sealand). And, remember, the bartender doesn't ever know the story behind the name-- just the name itself-- so to the tie-in to the sea is a pretty good way of handling this. That's what I like about The Dead Poet's drinks-- these are tried and true cocktails, but they're made well and, more importantly, the poets assigned to each drink make sense (the jazz-age cocktail the Sidecar, for example, is a great fit for Hughes, and a Mississippi Mud martini is an obvious fit for Mark Twain). 

So, this might not be the most inventive drink I've gotten for this blog thus far, but it still tasted great and was a strong fit for the name. Both the "Lord" and "Sealand" were represented. All in all, a great drink, which left me with few complaints. Many thanks to Liam and Tim for providing one of the more successful drinks on this list. And, as an added bonus, Crown Royal whiskey is a Canadian brand-- and, if you remember, many of Sealand's official athletes are Canadian. So, unwittingly, the actual principality of Sealand got to be represented here anyway.

And now, to end this post, I'll end with a poem from the esteemed dead poet, Dorothy Parker:

I like to have a martini

Two at the very most

After three, I'm under the table

After four I'm under my host

Cheers, and may God bless the great nation of Sealand.