Drink 28: Don't Laugh

The Name: Don't Laugh                                                                                

The Bar: Monkey Bar (60 E. 54th st., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: I have an important mission for you. Are you ready? Don't laugh.

I'm serious. Don't laugh.

You can do anything else that you want, as long as you don't laugh. Here. I'll help you out 

This was the least funny thing I could think of.

Are you laughing? If not, then that's good because you shouldn't laugh. If you are laughing, then you better stop because you're not allowed to laugh. Don't laugh.

I don't know if you are laughing or not. Probably not (after all, I made you think about Daniel Tosh so now you probably won't laugh for another hour). But nonetheless, I'm sure we've all been in a situation where we have laughed simply because someone told us not to. Something about hearing the words "don't laugh" will automatically make us giggle, or at least smile. It's not too strange of a concept. It's like the infamous "church giggles." If we're laughing during an inappropriate situation, it's only going to make us laugh more. I'm pretty sure every single person reading this knows what I'm talking about to some extent.

But I have a friend named Elizabeth who takes this to new extremes. Elizabeth and I went to high school together where I was her coach on the speech team, and it was then that I discovered that she is incapable of NOT laughing anytime someone says the words "don't laugh." For whatever reason, those words have more of an affect on her than the average person. I tested this phenomenon at every opportunity, and it worked every single time. There didn't have to be any context. I could just say "Hey, Elizabeth. Don't laugh," and sure enough she would start laughing. I think it became a sort of Pavlovian response at some point.

This, of course, was seven years ago, but it still holds true today. Elizabeth and I have stayed in touch over the years and every single time I see her, I am sure to at one point, politely request that she not laugh. And it continues to have the same affect.

Over the years I have tried to see if this would work with other people. I have a friend from college (coincidentally also named Elizabeth) who laughs every time someone says "Kangaroo." I myself will let out an undignified giggle anytime someone pokes me, a la the Pillsbury Doughboy. I will similarly giggle should someone simply imply that they are going to poke me. Or says the word "poke." Or says the word "giggle."

But this isn't about me, this is about Elizabeth, who has been a fan of this blog and who has been wanting to join me for one of my What's That Drink excursions for a while now. And when we finally did, there was only one possible drink name we could order: a Don't Laugh.

Ordering The Drink: I made plans to meet Elizabeth and a few of her friends--Sean, Grace, Brian, and Rosie-- for drinks last week while Elizabeth was in the city, on break from college. We initially wanted to meet at a bar which we found out was closed for a private party. So we decided to walk elsewhere. I had heard of a bar in the neighborhood called Monkey Bar, which I'd heard had great drinks and great bar food, and which had occasionally shown up on "best cocktails in the city" lists. I'd been planning to get a drink here for a while, so that's where we all headed.

It was a really cute place--and there were monkeys everywhere. If you're afraid of monkeys, do not go here.

The monkey-themed mural on the restaurant's walls was whimsical, but hard to see considering how packed the place was when we were there.

It was quite pricey, and if you go here I definitely recommend going for cocktails. The beer list is very limited and incredibly pricey (ten dollars for Angry Orchard cider????) but the cocktails really are fantastic. My first drink, their version of a classic cocktail called The Monkey Gland, swapped the grenadine typically found in that drink with pomegranate molasses which was a fantastic improvement. It was perfectly made, and really showed off the bartender's chops.

Their interpretation of the Monkey Gland. Which tastes better than the name makes it sound.

The cocktail menu was really great. Everything sounded good (and was) but more than that, it was innovative. Like with adding pomegranate molasses to the Monkey Gland, the bartenders clearly put their individual twist on every drink. Why have a hot toddy, typically made with whiskey, when you can get a sweeter autumnal flavor by making a toddy with Calvados, an apple brandy? A classic Mint Julep became a Jersey Julep, made with applejack instead of regular bourbon. The cocktails were sophisticated, but playful, and unique. It left me with high hopes for when I ordered the "Don't Laugh." If anyone would be up for the challenge, it would be the team at The Monkey Bar.

We munched on truffled corn fritters with thyme honey (which were delicious) and the waiter came to take our order for the second round of drinks. I explained that I wanted a drink called the Don't Laugh, and he said he'd pass it on to the bartender. When it came time for Elizabeth to get a drink she said "I'd like a Don't Laugh too." Grace ordered a drink called the Grow a Pear that was absolutely beautiful.

Brian peers at the Grow a Pear with a fascinated gleam in his eye.

In a little bit, the waiter returned with the drinks and said "So, he actually made two different drinks," and placed two clearly distinct cocktails on the table. This was an exciting development. The Monkey Bar bartender had clearly gone above and beyond. I had never received two different cocktails for one drink! The waited enigmatically said "Let me know what you think, and I'll tell you what's in them when I get back." With no ingredients to go on, Elizabeth and I each selected the glass that happened to have been placed closest to us and took a sip.

The Drink (or, in this case, Drinks):

Two Don't Laughs.

Drink #1 (the one on the left):

Gin

Lemon Juice

Maraschino Liqueur

Chartreuse

Drink #2 (the one on the right):

Gin

Lemon Juice

Maraschino Liqueur

Creme de Violette

Assessment of Drink: Both were very well made, to be sure. The ingredients are very similar--with the only difference between them being chartreuse in one and creme de violette in the other, but it shows how, in a strong bartender's hands, similar ingredients can make vastly different drinks. Everyone tried both drinks, and none of us would have guessed how similar they truly were. And both were really good. Chartreuse is known for its assertive flavor, but it was perfectly balanced with the sweetness of the maraschino and the sourness of the lemon. The creme de violette, however, was more assertive in Drink #2. I couldn't immediately recognize the flavor of it, but once the waiter came back and told us it was creme de violette, it made perfect sense. Drink #1 was a more composed and unified drink, but Drink #2 had layers. You got different layers of flavor--like a Willy Wonka candy, the drink seemed to change in your mouth. At first, you tasted the gin, then you'd get some sweetness, then some sour, and then the creme de violette came on as a pleasant aftertaste. The creme de violette was the flavor that lingered on your tongue, and it showcased the liqueur better than I've ever had before. Including the last time I got creme de violette for a drink and that was when the word "Violet" was in the name!

All in all, the consensus of the table was that Drink #1 with the chartreuse was their favorite, but they found Drink #2 more interesting. I'd say it was a fair assessment. But both were quite delicious.

Does It Live Up To The Name: From just drinking the cocktails, it was not clear why either of these would be called the Don't Laugh, but since we didn't know the ingredients, we didn't have the full story. When our waiter returned, we excitedly asked what was in the drinks--perhaps it would clear up the mystery. He let us know. Not only did he tell us the ingredients, but he told us that they were, as he put it, "real cocktails." The one with creme de violette is called an Aviation, which I had heard of before, and the one with chartreuse is called The Last Word, which I had not heard of before. Upon hearing this, the delicious and well-crafted mystery cocktails suddenly became disappointing. Nothing about these drinks speaks to being a Don't Laugh. It would have been one thing if these were pre-existing cocktails whose names had something to do with the assigned name, but they didn't. At all. And the ingredients didn't either.

Because we were sitting at a table and I didn't order drinks from the bartender directly or get to talk to him, I'm not really sure what happened. It's possible that our bartender had a very good reason for serving us these drinks under the guise of the name "Don't Laugh." I have since read that The Last word was invented by a vaudevillian comedian named Frank Fogarty, so perhaps its creator's occupation was the inspiration. It's also possible that the bartender heard our request and went "Nope, not gonna do that" and gave us other cocktails instead. It's even possible that our waiter (who did seem somewhat humorless throughout the evening) didn't even pass on our request, and instead opted to tell our bartender that we wanted a bartender's choice drink, and he created the cocktails without knowing the prompt. I'm really not sure. And without knowing the whole story, it's hard for me to really know where things went wrong. But I do know one thing: neither of these drinks qualify as the "Don't Laugh" in my mind. In the past, I've gotten drinks that were already pre-existing cocktails, and it's always a bit disappointing, but usually there's a reason the bartender made me that drink based on the prompt. Sometimes the pre-existing cocktail actually makes sense for the name. But in this case, I just can't make the connection. The Frank Fogarty connection was the best thing I could come up with, but then why did they also make an Aviation?

When I get drinks for this blog, I know it's a weird request. And I'm usually fine if the bartender doesn't embrace the idea of it--they probably deal with all sorts of annoying requests all the time, so I can't blame them for that. But in this case, it was especially disappointing. I didn't think the "Don't Laugh" was too difficult a name, and considering the innovation and playfulness found in most of the cocktails on the menu, I had sort of set myself up for something extraordinary. And, in their own way, these cocktails were great. They were certainly well made, and all of us had a great time at Monkey Bar, but they really didn't live up to the spirit of this experiment.

I would absolutely go to Monkey Bar again, and see no reason to not recommend it. It's a fun place with really great food and exceptional drinks. I can see why it's considered by some as one of the best places for cocktails in the city. But with the particular set of parameters for this game of What's That Drink, it ended up being a surprisingly disappointing outing. It was like a post-2000 Eddie Murphy movie that way. And, much like the name of this drink suggests, that's something that will never leave you laughing.

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.