Drink 42: Hungry Like The Wolf Is Fire

The Name: Hungry Like The Wolf Is Fire                                                                             

The Bar: Joe's (480 Amsterdam Ave., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last post. Sorry to the fans of this blog--I'll try to order more weird drinks with more consistency! Although, in reality, the problem isn't that I haven't been ordering weird drinks, it's that I haven't been writing about them. In fact, a month ago, I played What's That Drink and just haven't had a chance to write about it until now.

One of this blog's most avid fans (and one of those waiting most patiently during this two month hiatus) is my friend Christine. Christine has been following What's That Drink since the beginning, and was present when I ordered The Murdered Moose. Christine recently visited New York City and said she was determined to once again appear on this blog. So one night, I met up with Christine, her girlfriend (and my friend) Cheyenne, and her friend (and my new friend) Katie. We decided to do a mini barhop on the Upper West Side, so a What's That Drink cocktail was bound to happen. We just had to figure out what drink to get.

Me and Christine at The Dead Poet

Our answer came while we were in The Dead Poet, where I'd ordered The Lord of Sealand. Among The Dead Poet's many charms is a jukebox with a great song selection. Luckily for us, no one played Tom Jones' "What's New, Pussycat?" But even more luckily, someone did play "Hungry Like the Wolf." The reason this was so lucky was that, on top of just being a great song, Katie had a particular anecdote about it. One night when Katie was particularly drunk, she happened to hear the song and was struck by how good it was. And it was so good that she wanted everyone to know. So long after the song was over she began wandering over to people to inform them that "Hungry Like The Wolf is Fire."

She had a variety of responses to this, with many people agreeing that, yes, that song is "fire," but others simply looking confused and replying, "...okay?" Still, Katie was undeterred by this skepticism. She was so determined to let the world know that "Hungry Like the Wolf is Fire" that she tweeted it at 1:00 in the morning.

  There's something about the wording of the phrase that just makes it particularly funny. For example, using the word "fire" as an adjective for cool. I must admit that I'd never heard this particular turn of phrase before. I've certainly heard the term "on fire," but never simply "fire." Since getting this drink, I've asked people whether they've ever heard someone use "fire" in this context before. Like "That's so fire!!!!" But no one had. Until, completely out of context, I was at work and I heard someone say it. So it appears to be a select term that is very popular with anyone who's four years younger than me. Yet, hearing the phrase, even if you haven't heard it before, you still know what Katie was trying to say. And, I think, that pretty much everyone would agree that she's correct. Hungry Like the Wolf IS fire.

Ordering The Drink: We left The Dead Poet so we could get the drink elsewhere. Partly because I've already ordered a custom drink at The Dead Poet, and partly because there's no shortage of great bars along Amsterdam Avenue on the Upper West Side. This is the neighborhood I grew up in, and I can vouch that Amsterdam used to have nothing of note, but has really taken off in the past few years. And there are a ton of great bars lining the avenue starting in the high 70's. One of the better ones is Joe's, which has both good food and good drinks. We had also been there earlier in the evening, and knew that one bartender in particular--a good-natured and jovial guy with a big bushy beard--would probably get really excited by the What's That Drink challenge. As we walked back into Joe's, he saw us and waved.

We didn't sit at the bar, though, we got a table, so after a little while, a waitress came over to take our drink order. As I explained the idea behind ordering a drink based on the name, I included my typical caveat that, if the bartender didn't want to do this, I'd completely understand. "Oh no," our waitress replied, "he'll DEFINITELY want to do this." After I said the name of the drink, she smiled. "I already know what I'd do for this," she said, "but we'll see what he comes up with."

After a little bit, she came back with the drinks, grinning. "He had the same exact idea as I did," she said.

The Drink:

Jack Daniel's Tennessee Fire
Angostura Bitters
Sugar
Water

Assessment of Drink: Anyone familiar with cocktails will immediately look at these ingredients and go "Why, that's an Old Fashioned!" And you're right--it IS an Old Fashioned. But it's an Old Fashioned made with cinnamon whiskey. And, frankly, I'm amazed that I've never had a cinnamon whiskey old fashioned before because that's an absolutely brilliant idea. The Old Fashioned has always been one of the most subtle cocktails, and one that really highlights the whiskey, using slight additions like bitters, sugar, and water, to transform the whiskey into a separate mixed drink. And while whiskey purists will always prefer the regular plain Old Fashioned thank you very much, there are now some really good flavored whiskeys in the world that are worth trying, and logically, the way an Old Fashioned works with regular whiskey, it works just as well with flavored whiskeys. It's, at the very least, an intriguing idea.

The one downside to this is that flavored whiskeys--and cinnamon whiskey in particular--does tend to put the flavoring front and center. Jack Daniel's Tennessee Fire is VERY cinnamon, and while I really enjoyed the drink, having the whiskey's flavor intensified by the bitters and sugar means that you taste the flavor even more. I mean, you could smell the cinnamon as soon as the drink was placed before us, and I do think that--although it would have violated the simplicity of an Old Fashioned--the drink as a whole might have benefited from having something else to cut down on the cinnamon flavor. I know that Katie in particular, the one for whom the drink was named, found the cinnamon REALLY overpowering. So, while I definitely liked the drink and would recommend it, my recommendation comes with the caveat to make sure you REALLY like cinnamon whiskey if you want to try and make/order this drink for yourself. Personally, I think that if you want to get a flavored Old Fashioned, a subtler flavor like Jack Daniel's Honey might be the more popular choice.

Does It Live Up To The Name: The thing is that, whether the cinnamon flavor was overpowering or not, this drink matched the name PERFECTLY. The word "Fire" was in the drink, so I would have been disappointed if cinnamon was not front and center. Our friendly bartender at Joe's absolutely nailed it in terms of matching the drink to the name. When I come up with these cocktail names, and try to guess what my bartender will come up with, I typically break the drink name into words. So I was thinking, "What will the bartender do to evoke a Wolf in this drink?" But, stupidly, I didn't think of the obvious route to actually acknowledge the song. At this point, Hungry Like the Wolf is a classic--it's a familiar song that pretty much anyone knows and which has a lot of popular appeal. So taking a well-known cocktail, especially an Old Fashioned, as your starting point is a great way to evoke the spirit and feeling of the song. And then, adding cinnamon whiskey (especially one with the word "Fire" in the name) is a perfect twist to add to acknowledge the addition of fire into the drink name. It was a simple approach to the drink name, but I honestly can't think of any approach that would have been better--this really is the perfect drink to match the name. Duran Duran themselves would have been proud.

Basically what I'm trying to say was that the Hungry Like The Wolf Is Fire is fire. And even a drink I'd consider ordering again. Although perhaps with a bit more sugar or bitters to cut through the fiery cinnamon flavor.

Drink 40: The Birthday Shirt

The Name: The Birthday Shirt                                                                              

The Bar: The Tippler (425 West 15th St., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: It was my birthday last week! Happy birthday to me! I'll pause while you sing in celebration of your favorite cocktail blogger becoming one year older!

December 4th is not just my birthday, it is also the anniversary of the only actively bad drink I've ever gotten for this blog. Regular readers will surely remember the debacle of The Brave Potato, a drink I ordered on my birthday two years ago and which left a bad taste in my mouth, both literally and figuratively. It was a disaster. It was such a disaster, in fact, that last year, I didn't even order a What's-That-Drink cocktail because I was worried I might have a similar experience. I also didn't order a drink because last year I celebrated at a bar called The Ginger Man, which has one of the best beer selections in the city, but is not exactly known for their mixed drinks. 

But this year, I decided that I had to order a birthday drink and hopefully the results would be better than two years prior.

But while I didn't order an unusual drink on my birthday last year, I did do something special at The Ginger Man: I wore a shirt. I know, you're thinking that most people wear shirts in polite society, but this wasn't just any shirt. It was a special shirt that I had never worn before. And it looks like this.

 

It might not look too weird on the clothes hanger, but this shirt is quite odd. The middle is white, but then the sleeves and collar and cuffs are not, so you look kind of like you're wearing a vest. And then the collar, cuffs, and right sleeve are all a purple checkered pattern, but the left arm is inexplicable robin's egg blue. On top of all that, there are the rather prominent black buttons which just add together to make the shirt perplexing. I had bought it because I liked how unusual it was. It's a well-made garment, but it really does look like someone made a terrible mistake while making this and accidentally put the wrong sleeve in. Or someone had started making a shirt and realized they didn't have enough white fabric, so they decided to use the purple check fabric for the rest of the shirt, but then realized they didn't have enough of THAT, so they just went, "fuck it" and made one sleeve blue because they had to finish this shirt because they were on a deadline. Maybe the shirt was put into a futuristic matter transporter with two other shirts and the atoms got jumbled out and the three shirts melded into one. No matter why this shirt was made, I like it. I like clothes that people are confused by when they look at you.

And other people liked it too! Almost everyone who came to my birthday last year said "I like that shirt," and we all theorized how this shirt had come into being. The person who seemed most enthusiastic about the shirt last year was my friend David, who recently joined me for The Psychic Squirrel a few months ago. On my birthday, we planned to meet at another time, and he told me that we could grab dinner only if I wore the same shirt. I don't think he was joking.

After my birthday, I went to put the shirt away and reflected on how well-received its first outing had been. "What a great shirt!" I thought to myself. I then proceeded to completely forget that it was in my closet and didn't wear it again.

Until last week. As I was going through my closet on my birthday last Friday, I happened to see the shirt and realized that I had to wear it again. And thus, a tradition is born. It is now officially my birthday shirt. And I, forever and always, will only wear it on my birthday. Or if someone invites me to a weird shirt party.

Ordering The Drink: One of my favorite places in New York City is Chelsea Market, a large indoor market and food hall located in, you guessed it, Chelsea. I've been there multiple times (it's one of my go-to places to take friends who are visiting the city), but I had not been to their underground bar, The Tippler. I'd heard great things about it, though, and I do love Chelsea Market, so I figured this would be the perfect place to celebrate my birthday. It was a great selection--The Tippler is a huge space, but also feels very cozy. By arriving early, I was lucky enough to nab a large wooden table right at the entrance to the bar, and as friends trickled in, I had several cocktails from off the menu and all were delicious. Plus, as you would expect from a bar located in a sprawling culinary market, the food was great. And some of the cocktails even contained ingredients that I knew I had seen in the various storefronts above--most notably a variety of unusual bitters. I immediately knew The Tippler was a great choice for a birthday celebration, and was excited to play What's That Drink there.

I will confess that I initially was going to order a drink with a different name entirely, but as had happened the year before, my shirt had once again become a topic of conversation. Most interestingly, David--my friend who had been the most intrigued by the shirt last year--not only didn't remember the shirt at all, but seemed to actively dislike it this time around. "I wore this shirt just for you!" I told him. "I really wish you hadn't," he replied.

Given that the birthday shirt was now officially a tradition, my friend Morgan suggested that I order a drink called The Birthday Shirt. I agreed that that was a good idea. Morgan was incredibly pleased with himself, and told everybody multiple times how he was the one who came up with the name. I'm letting you know this because I always believe that credit should be given where credit is due. So, thank you Morgan. I hope you appreciate this acknowledgment.

The server--who was fantastic and was attentive all night even though the bar was very busy-- came to our table and I explained the weird drink order. Our server seemed to love the idea, although she did express some slight concern about explaining it to the bartenders. She seemed to think they might feel like I was trying to test them, but I assured her that there was not a specific drink I was looking for and that anything they put in the drink I'd be happy with. "Maybe give me a hint about what type of spirit you want?" she suggested. But I refused and told her I wanted their interpretation of The Birthday Shirt without any input from me. Given her apprehension, I repeated that if they didn't want to do it, she could let me know and I'd totally understand. But she smiled mischievously and said, "Oh no, I'll definitely find someone who'll do it," and walked off.

In a bit she came back holding both a drink and a shot in her hand.

The Drink:
"Is this The Birthday Shirt?!" I asked when she'd returned.

"Well...not exactly." she put the drinks on the table. The shot was topped with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, which certainly seemed festive. "This is a birthday shot," she explained. "And the bartender said that maybe someone with a speech impediment would call it a birthday shirt." I asked her what was in the shot, and she pointed it out on the menu: lemon vodka, frangelico, and Bailey's, topped of course with whipped cream and sprinkles. Our server rolled her eyes as she relayed the bartender's explanation. It was clear that she thought they had copped out quite a bit and wished that she was bringing me something more fun, unusual, and off-the menu.

"But, on top of the birthday shot, we're also bringing you our old fashioned with muddled cherries. On the house. Hope that's okay." I assured her that a free old fashioned was always welcome and thanked her. Then, I took the shot.

Me wearing the birthday shirt, while holding the birthday shot. The old fashioned is on the table, and my friend Alex is in the background completely undermining my attempts to look dignified and wise beyond my years.

Assessment of Drink: Not much to complain about flavorwise. The crew at The Tippler knows what they're doing, and both the birthday shot and the old fashioned were excellent. Birthday cake shots are actually fairly common, but this one was well-balanced and not as overly sweet as birthday cake shots tend to be. And the old fashioned was really great. A poorly made old fashioned tends to just be watered-down whiskey, but when you have a good old fashioned you realize that the process that goes behind making this drink well really does elevate it. In this instance, they had the brilliant idea to muddle cherries along with the sugar and bitters. Rather than just getting the customary maraschino cherry garnish, there was a nice undertone of cherry throughout which didn't dominate the flavor profile but also added a nice tartness. It was very well-crafted.

When they were placed on the table, the idea was clearly that these were two separate entities. One shot, and one drink. But since they were both served in response to my order, I decided to think about how they worked as a pairing. I wondered if doing the shot right before might have had any effect on the old fashioned. Maybe it would bring out some natural sweetness of the cocktail? But...yeah it really didn't. There's no cohesion between the shot and the drink. So, my attempts to justify the two as a pairing didn't really work, and they remained separate entities in my mind. But the were delicious entities at the very least.

Does It Live Up To The Name: I guess there is some cleverness is going "Birthday Shirt sounds like Birthday Shot," although the specificity of bringing speech impediments into the equation seemed unnecessary and lightly mean-spirited. But, still, it was a little disappointing to receive two things directly off the menu. The challenge really wasn't met. And so, as far as What's That Drink is concerned, I've now struck out twice on my birthday.

But, from a non-blogging standpoint, it was still a great order. The birthday shot was fun (in fact, later in the evening, I did another round of birthday shots with my friend Nick). And it's hard to be too disappointed in a bar's service when they give you a free drink--especially one as excellent as that old fashioned. So, much like the birthday shirt itself, it's hard to know what to make of the Birthday Shirt What's That Drink experience. I may not have left with a never-before-crafted custom cocktail, but I had a great time with some great friends at a great bar. While wearing a great shirt.

Drink 24: The Fish of the Sea

The Name: The Fish of the Sea                                                                             

The Bar: The Mulberry Project (149 Mulberry Street, NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: Fans of this blog will surely remember Quinnland-- my unofficial second family which passes an old dirty beer can back and forth with my family. Well, "The Can" is not the only strange tradition that our families have. There was another one too-- a tradition which occurred every summer when Leila and I were growing up. Since the Quinns and my family vacationed together, during those summer vacation, Leila and I would be visited multiple times by a creature called The Fish of the Sea.

Everyone's familiar with Santa Claus and The Tooth Fairy-- magical gift-bringing beings much loved by kids everywhere. Well, in my childhood, The Fish of the Sea was a member of their hallowed ranks. Each summer, Leila and I would find notes hidden around our summer house, written on fish-shaped paper, addressed to the "Little Blond Boy and Little Blond Girl." On these notes would be instructions-- written in rhyme-- telling us when the Fish of the Sea (or F.O.T.S. as the note was typically signed) would be arriving. At that specified time, Leila and I would go to a window in our vacation house, and cast a fishing pole with a bucket on the end of it out the window. After letting the Fish of the Sea know we were ready (which we did by chanting "Here Fishy Fishy Fishy") good ol' F.O.T.S. would tug on the bucket. We'd reel in the line and, lo and behold, a toy would be inside the bucket! It was a great tradition and always a highlight of summer vacations.

The Little Blond Boy and Little Blond Girl, pre-fishing

Now, surely, many of you are wondering why the Fish of the Sea did not visit you during your summer! Well, Leila and I discovered somewhat early on that the Fish of the Sea might not be...what word am I thinking of...real. For one thing, the notes written by the "fish" were in a handwriting that was shockingly similar to my mother's (which I also thought bore a striking resemblance to Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy's but Leila didn't seem to think so). And then there was the fact that my mother always seemed to disappear during our fishing excursions, only to came back immediately after the fishing was done, always sounding disappointed and surprised that she had missed it even though she KNEW when the fish was going to arrive. This happened every single time. And the weirdest part is that there was never an excuse. My mother never went "Oh, well, I was out getting groceries," or "Oh, I went for a bike ride," so we were never given an alternative option for where she might have been. All we knew was that she was not in the house. And that she "thinks she might have seen the fish swimming away." There was also the problem that the actual biology of the Fish of the Sea was not explained. As far as we could tell, F.O.T.S. was an actual fish. They certainly identified as such. Perhaps a giant, human-sized fish. But...how did they get around on land? Was this a giant fish with legs? Did the fish swim around through the air like some Miyazakiesque creation? It's not like our toys were ever wet-- so while the Fish of the Sea presumably needed water to live, somehow the toys stayed perfectly dry. Was this a merperson of some sort? They clearly had to have thumbs, in order to write us notes in marker. Unlike Santa Claus who we could visualize, the Fish of the Sea just kind of existed in an unexplained way which we immediately began to question once we discovered at an early age how fish worked.

Artist's rendering of The Fish of the Sea

Because of these reasons, Leila and I pretty quickly began to guess that it was my mother on the other end of the fishing line. I can't say how early on, but it was pretty early on. I don't actually remember a time where I thought the Fish of the Sea was real, although evidence of such a time does exist on home videos where Leila and I are clearly excited and not yet ruined to harsh realities of the non-magical world. I do remember there was one summer where we started to think "Huh, this doesn't make sense" and first formed our "The Fish of the Sea is not a real aquatic deity that visits us and only us each summer to give us toys including some we had specifically asked our parents for" theory. By the very next summer, we were convinced that The Fish was not real. But, we still really enjoyed the tradition. It was a lot of fun and, frankly, we were getting a steady supply of toys for basically no reason. And our parents seemed to be having fun too, so we kept up the pretense that we believed the Fish was real for quite some time. Our parents seemed to know what we were doing as we became way too old to actually believe it...but also kept up the pretense. Even after Leila and I had revealed that we knew the truth about Santa and the Tooth Fairy, we were still fishing for toys. So, soon, we had a tradition each summer of us throwing a fishing pole outside of a window so that my mother could put toys in it and we would all pretend that it was because of a beautiful and monstrous fish-human hybrid that none of us actually believed was real or thought anyone else believed was real either. It was vaguely cultlike, but still great. And a wonderful tradition that really speaks to the creativity of our parents.

We continue calling for the Fish of the Sea to this very day. As you can see from the picture, nothing much has changed.

Ordering The Drink: Leila now lives in Boston, but was back in New York for a few days for Thanksgiving, so we found some time to go out for drinks. After considering a few places, we decided to go to The Mulberry Project-- a bar in Little Italy that I'd not been to before, but which had been recommended to me specifically as a place that would be good for this blog. We walked up Mulberry Street (and saw a horse, no a zebra, no a reindeer, no an elephant, no an elephant and some giraffes, no a fucking parade!!!!!!!!) and were surprised to find that, at one point, we must have passed the bar. Even though we'd been looking for its street number-- 149-- we had somehow ended up at building number 165. We turned around and looked extra closely, before seeing a red door situated kind of underground, which, in the corner, had the numbers "149" scrawled on it. I knocked on the door and there was no response. After becoming genuinely worried that somehow the internet had given us the wrong address, we found that the door was unlocked and, when opened, led us to a dimly-lit alcove-- still no bar. Leila became convinced that at best, we were in the wrong place and, at worst, we were definitely going to get murdered.

The last known photograph ever taken of Leila Quinn.

But, after going through another door, we finally found ourselves in a beautiful little bar and took our seats. When the menu arrived, I could understand why this place had been recommended. Even though there were signature cocktails, they also encouraged creativity in your drink ordering. For example, you could request a drink based on a handful of ingredients listed-- including seasonal fruits like persimmon, pomegranate, and rambutan, or a selection of "tonight's syrups"; a rotating roster of flavors which, that night, included cinnamon, vadouvan curry, and a Japanese chili pepper called togarashi. We were intrigued and excited.

Leila. Intrigued and excited.

But before we tested our bartender's improvisational skills, we decided to order from the signature cocktail menu. They didn't disappoint. I got the "Sister Morphine" a creamy not-too-sweet drink made from plum liqueur, gin, vermouth, and coconut water. It was great, but Leila's was even better. She got the "Bitch with an Egg" which I can only describe as a combination of an old fashioned, eggnog, and a pumpkin spice latte. It was amazing.

Our first round of drinks.

After finishing these drinks, it was time to get the Fish of the Sea. Our bartender, a really nice guy named Aaron with a hipster-lumberjack aesthetic--unsurprisingly, was 100% on board. In no time, The Fish of the Sea was in front of us. And we didn't even have to call out "Here Fishy, Fishy, Fishy" this time.

We took a selfie with our drinks because it seemed appropriate at the time.

The Drink:

Islay Scotch
Vermouth di Torino 
Chamomile
Angostura Bitters 

Lemon peel
Alcohol-soaked cherry

Assessment of Drink: Anyone with a passing familiarity of cocktails will recognize that this was essentially a Manhattan: whiskey, vermouth, angostura, and a maraschino cherry. Although, at The Mulberry Project, they have their own housemade maraschino cherries that are not sweet like the variety we're all familiar with and which are absolutely amazing-- they're juicy and plump with their alcohol-soaking and maintained the wonderful tartness cherries should have. They didn't have that artificial candy flavor at all. Really great stuff.

Me, with the cherry in my mouth. I could have basically just received a bowl of these as a bar snack and gotten drunk off of them alone and I would have been happy.

So, it was a Manhattan, but a very well-crafted one at that (thanks, Aaron). But it wasn't JUST a Manhattan. Because it had chamomile in it. Now, I don't think anyone would immediately think that chamomile tea and such a strong drink would go together--I know I was skeptical at first--but it really did work. The flavors definitely contrasted, but in a complimentary way. It gave the Manhattan a vaguely herbal and earthy quality-- at once intensifying both the sweetness and the bitterness in the original drink. There are certain ingredients that are pleasing, and then there are certain ingredients which have the potential to actually conjure up emotions in us. Some smells and flavors can bring up memories of a specific place or time or person-- which elevates the ingredient to an actual emotional trigger. Chamomile is one of those rare flavors that is distinct enough that it can bring up emotions in whoever is tasting it. I think this is why there are some people who have a natural aversion to the flavor-- just because it is so distinct. But even if you don't have any memories of drinking chamomile tea, it has a naturally comforting taste. I described the drink to Leila as feeling "homey." Fittingly for the name (unwittingly so on Aaron's part since he didn't know the story yet) the drink actually evoked memories of childhood in me. Which is weird because I didn't drink that much chamomile tea as a kid. And drank even fewer Manhattans (as far as I know).

I pose with The Fish of the Sea. I was going for a neutral expression but I think I look vaguely creepy.

Does It Live Up To The Name: When we had decided to order this drink, Leila had been concerned we would get a blue drink. Which could have definitely happened. For this blog, I have already had a blue drink, and been to an even bluer bar. And while a blue drink is not necessarily a bad drink, it was nice that Aaron did not take that route. A bright blue drink would have felt a bit out of place at The Mulberry Project, I think. And while I'm glad that the drink was not aggressively blue, I will admit that it was nothing like what I would have come up with for the name. I wanted something brinier, something saltier and more oceanlike. If we had been in a whiskey bar, I'm sure I would have gotten something with picklejuice in it, for example. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but I definitely wasn't expecting a Manhattan. And as delightful as it was, the addition of chamomile didn't exactly make the drink more fishlike in any way.

When Aaron set down the drink and explained the ingredients, he explained that he used the Islay Scotch to evoke the sea, and this makes sense-- as the name says, this Scotch is made on the Scottish isle of Islay and is, therefore, surrounded by sea. So, the choice of Scotch works logically, but that alone doesn't sell this drink's name to me. So, I was a bit skeptical of what this drink had to do with the name. But, if you look at the ingredients, there's one other ingredient besides chamomile that was in this drink that you don't find in most Manhattans. And that ingredient is what made this drink live up to the name for me.

The lemon peel.

This was not a giant peel of lemon rind, nor was it a twist. It was just a tiny little piece of the lemon peel that Aaron had situated in the drink. And as I drank, the lemon peel swirled around and around like a little goldfish in the pool of water.

As I finished the cocktail, the lemon fish became more apparent. In my mind, the cherry is a rock that the fish is swimming around.

This was such a delightful addition-- very whimsical and cute, and was absolutely enough to make me feel that the name had been satisfied. The lemon peel was somehow kind of cute as a little fish swimming around in its sea of Manhattan and chamomile. Until I drank all of it, of course.

Our trip to The Mulberry Project was great, and I'm excited to go again as the seasons change and their menu changes with it. All the drinks we had that night were fantastic and, most impressively, very different. After The Fish of the Sea, I got a Bourbon Sour made with asian pear (one of the seasonal fruits) and tiki bitters that was heavenly.

This drink was acidic and bright and fruity. The Fish of the Sea was earthy, classic, and strong. The drinks Leila and I got before this were creamy and yummy. We had lots of different styles of cocktail, and Aaron executed all of them perfectly.

Aaron cuts a huge chunk of ice. His mixology skills are matched only be his beard-growing skills.

It was a great night out at a great bar with a great friend. Considering the lore of The Fish of the Sea, and how large a part of my childhood mythology they were, this was another drink name that I took very personally and was glad to see it honored in such a way. I will definitely be returning to The Mulberry Project sometime soon. They clearly take their craft very seriously, and are a great place for cocktail aficionados and casual drinkers alike-- it's laidback and unassuming but with a certain unmistakable sophistication. It's a well-designed bar serving well-designed drinks and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Leila and I fishing for F.O.T.S.