Drink 46: The Day The Clown Cried

The Name: The Day The Clown Cried                                                                                

The Bar: Fig. 19 (131½ Chrystie St., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: If you've never heard of The Day The Clown Cried, then you are in for a treat. It's a title of a movie, and it's a movie that I and many others are obsessed, despite the fact that almost no one has ever seen it. Let me explain.

In 1972, actor, director, and comedian Jerry Lewis was already firmly established and beloved by many for his broad physical comedy. But, Lewis was feeling a bit unsatisfied as an artist. Sure, people loved his comedy, but he wanted to prove he was a serious actor too. And so he set out writing, directing, and starring in a movie called The Day The Clown Cried. It was going to be his foray into the world of drama. Like Steve Carell in Foxcatcher, but if Steve Carell's performance had been horribly, horribly offensive.

How bad could it be, you ask? Let me just briefly summarize the plot. The Day The Clown Cried is about a German circus clown named Helmut Doork. After learning he is going to be fired from his job, he is thrown into a concentration camp for being a political prisoner after drunkenly mocking Hitler in a bar. It only gets worse from here, folks, so, buckle your seatbelts. Doork tries to entertain the rest of the prisoners, but it turns out he's a really bad clown so they all hate him. Although, to be fair, prisoners in a concentration camp are probably going to be a tough audience. But even though the other prisoners hate him, a group of Jewish children at the other side of the camp actually seem to like Doork's routine. Doork continues to perform for them, not because he's trying to cheer them up, but because they're the only people who actually think he's funny. The Nazi guards, seeing that the Jewish kids like him, enlist Doork to help them. Doork is assigned to help load the kids onto a bus, and then off the bus and into the gas chamber where they will be killed. I told you to buckle your seatbelts. The film ends with Doork deciding to go into the gas chamber with them since they're the only people who think he's funny. As he and the children are killed, he begins to cry. And that's why it's The Day The Clown Cried.

I shouldn't have to explain why this is atrocious. this is such a terrible idea, and the fact that Jerry Lewis put so much time and money into this film is mind-boggling. Again, he wrote, directed, and starred in this and genuinely thought it would be a potential Oscar-winner. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he had a change of heart. After he finished putting the film together, he watched it all the way through. Apparently, it suddenly dawned on him that this was a complete disaster and if it was ever released, he would be absolutely ruined. Because the premise of this film really is one of the worst things I've ever heard. Knowing this, Lewis has gone through great pains to ensure that the film never sees the light of day.

Jerry Lewis, filming The Day The Clown Cried

But word travels fast, and The Day The Clown Cried has become a thing of legend. Think about the cult following of The Room, but through in a movie that just might be worse, and add in the mystery factor. It's essentially the Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster of the cinematic world. And, just like with those mythical beasts, little glimpses of the film have been released. Every so often, a new piece of footage is released. And a full screenplay was released at one point. Before he became famous, comedian Patton Oswalt actually brought together a group of his friends to hold regular readings of the scripts aloud. But, and this is how seriously Jerry Lewis takes this, Oswalt had to stop because Lewis sent lawyers after Oswalt with a cease and desist order. Honestly, it's Lewis' reactions to the whole thing that make this such a thing of legend. There are unfinished films all over the place, but none that have been so disavowed by its creator.

If you're as fascinated by this movie as I am (I've always been a lover of really bad art), I encourage you to do more research on the film on your own because it really is extraordinary. For now, I'll just leave you with this quote from comedian Harry Shearer, who has somehow seen a rough-cut of the movie. Of The Day The Clown Cried, he said:

With most of these kinds of things, you find that the anticipation, or the concept, is better than the thing itself. But seeing this film was really awe-inspiring, in that you are rarely in the presence of a perfect object. This was a perfect object. This movie is so drastically wrong, its pathos and its comedy are so wildly misplaced, that you could not, in your fantasy of what it might be like, improve on what it really is. "Oh My God!"—that's all you can say.

I hoped that any drink I ordered with this name might live up to the same awe-inspiring nature.

Also, it's worth noting that Lewis recently softened his strict declarations that the film would never be seen. Supposedly, he said he'd consider letting the film be released, but only ten years after his death. Hey, it's better than nothing.

Ordering The Drink: In my last post, I talked about ordering The Christopher Walken Duck Joke with my friend Pat. We had enjoyed drinking at The Ship very much, but decided that the night was still young and we wanted to head elsewhere. After wandering around aimlessly for a bit looking for a bar, we decided to not just leave things to chance and researched places in the area. Pat found out about a place called Fig. 19, and while neither of us had heard of it, we decided to give it a try based on positive online reviews.

It turns out we maybe should have done more research because we had a hard time finding it. Fig. 19 is a hidden bar behind the wall of an art gallery. You never would have known it was there if you were just passing by, which is of course the point of a hidden bar.

Pat, looking for the door that is literally right behind him.

Once we finally found the door to the bar, we entered and knew we'd come to a great place. It truly feels like a secret--completely isolated from the world. I even love that the building number is 131½! More importantly, the cocktails are really great. The menu sounded fascinating, and the two drinks that Pat and I ordered to start were phenomenal. Pat's drink was called The Red Leaf, a stunning drink made from whiskey, vermouth, sherry, absinthe, and--most intriguingly--red wine reduction. I don't think I've ever had a drink so alcoholic that's also so smooth. And, as someone who loves absinthe, this might have been one of the best absinthe cocktails I've ever had--it snuck in at the end as a deliciously licorice aftertaste. It got better and better with every sip. I, meanwhile, got a drink called The Vanishing Point, a scrumptious dessert cocktail with a base of vanilla bean and cinnamon infused gin, which tasted like a more autumnal and sophisticated version of eggnog. Upon tasting it, Pat claimed it might just be one of the top ten cocktails he'd ever tasted. The cocktails were so good, we essentially shared both drinks because we were unable to stick to one.

It was clear that our bartender was a skilled mixologist, and she was also very friendly, so I was sure she'd go along with the weird drink idea. She was certainly amused by the request for The Day The Clown Cried, and set about putting the drink together. Meanwhile, Pat got a second Red Leaf because it was so good that he couldn't even be tempted by the other intriguing options on the menu.

 

The Drink:

Rye (or, to quote the bartender, a LOT of rye)

Aperol

Amaro

Lemon Juice

Maraschino Cherries

Orange Peel 

Assessment of Drink: This was fantastic. We already knew from The Red Leaf that our bartender was skilled at making a strong drink that still tasted balanced, and she proved it yet again. She explained that this was her twist on a cocktail called a Paper Plane. The only difference (aside from the creative garnish) was that she swapped the traditional bourbon out for rye, and added a lot more of the rye than you ordinarily would get, and which I certainly appreciated. The use of rye ended up being a really smart choice. Rye tends to be a little spicier and have a bit more of a bite to it than regular whiskeys, which made the drink decidedly sharper than it would have been with bourbon. Pat told me that he usually wasn't a big fan of rye, but agreed with me that it was the perfect choice here, and I appreciated that it was really brought to the forefront.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Our bartender explained that her intention was to make a drink that was both whimsical and sorrowful to try and fit the name, and she got that here. The aperol is sweet, and the amaro is bitter (amaro literally means "bitter"), so the interplay between them really creates an intriguing balance. You can see the fun of the clown, and also the bitterness of the tears. This drink represented the bartender's intentions beautifully.

And then, there was that garnish. As soon as our bartender put the drink down, I said, "Are the cherries the clown nose?" and her face lit up. "You got it!" she said. Of course, I was kind of cheating, since this was also done on a previous clown-themed drink I've ordered. Although this time, they were the really great high-quality cherries, which are always a treat. I also like that she put a cherry on each side of the orange peel. If the peel represents the clown's mouth as it did in my mind, I was imagining that depending on which cherry was the nose, this clown was smiling or frowning. Does that make sense? Whatever, it made sense to me.

All in all, I could see a clown ordering this on a particularly sad day. And I know that should The Day The Clown Cried ever get a release, I will definitely order a Paper Plane, but with a double rye instead of bourbon.

Drink 34: The Clue Junior Drinks (Part II)

The Name: Mr. Green with the Lemonade                                                                                

The Bar: The Narrows (1037 Flushing Ave., Brooklyn NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: This is part two of my "Clue Junior" series of drinks. To read why I think a simple board game like Clue Junior is ridiculous enough to warrant a place on this blog, please read part one here. Then come back and see how the second Clue Junior cocktail stacked up to the first.

Well, Yvette's dead. But before we deal with this we NEED to figure out who ate that slice of cake. Priorities, people.

Ordering The Drink:  After leaving Skytown, Elizabeth and I made it to a restaurant called BeeHive Oven and had some delicious Southern comfort food. This is irrelevant to the cocktails, but I mention it because the food there was really delicious. And biscuit-based, like another restaurant I've visited.

Here's a thing about me: I will talk about biscuits as much as I possibly can.

After our biscuits, Elizabeth and I journeyed to a bar called The Narrows. When I had googled the best bars in Bushwick, this place consistently came up as having the best cocktails, so I was very much looking forward to it. Unfortunately, our unfamiliarity with the area meant we got a little bit lost and almost gave up and went to a different bar instead. But I'm glad we stuck it out because as soon as we walked into The Narrows it became clear that this place was serious about its cocktails. Fancy cocktail equipment lined the bar and it was an absolute pleasure to watch the two guys at the bar work. They knew what they were doing. Since we'd already had two drinks, Elizabeth and I weren't particularly interested in getting multiple rounds here, and initially were planning to just order a Clue Junior-themed drink and call it a night, but the house cocktails all sounded so appealing we had to get one of those. We settled on a rye-based cocktail called Caulfield's Dream. Because it was made with rye. As in the Catcher in the Rye. As in Holden Caulfield. As in Caulfield's Dream. Get it?!?! Unable to resist literary references, we got a Caulfield's Dream, and of course, one of the Clue Junior drinks. All we needed was a suspect, so I mixed up the cards and we ended up selecting...Mr. Green! So, the cocktail was officially going to be called the Mr. Green with the Lemonade (since I used cola in the first Clue Junior drink). I was glad to have picked Mr. Green, as I've had success with green drinks before. I asked our bartender (an affable guy named Chris) if he'd be willing to make this drink, and after a slightly hesitant chuckle, he responded, "I'm up to the challenge."

Outside The Narrows, I mimic Mr. Green's scared-shitless-yet-also-bored expression on the card.

I go to all sorts of bars for this blog. Some are sports bars, some are great neighborhood places, and some really specialize in cocktails. The Narrows fits in that latter category, and unsurprisingly, these types of bars are typically the ones who typically come up with the best drinks. It makes sense--if you specialize in cocktails, your bartender is going to be more versatile than those who mostly serve beer (although, I should mention that surprisingly for a cocktail bar, The Narrows actually featured a pretty great craft beer menu). The bartenders know more tricks, and have more ingredients and equipment at their disposal. But, there's another trend I've noticed at these cocktail bars which I think contributes greatly to the success of the drinks. If there's more than one person tending bar that night, at the really good cocktail bars, the bartender always consults the rest of the team before making my custom drink. It becomes a team effort, and the drink is always stronger for it. It's always fun to see, and to me, demonstrates that the bartender is getting into the spirit of the game. This happened at The Narrows. Chris and his fellow bartender consulted for a bit before Chris set about making the drink. He shook up the cocktail, and had his fellow bartender give it a taste. "I was thinking about adding..." he started to say, but he was cut off. "It's really good, man," his fellow bartender said, "don't add a thing."

So he didn't. And the Mr. Green with the Lemonade was served.

The Drink:

Green Chartreuse
Yellow Chartreuse
Lemon Juice
Lime Juice

Assessment of Drink: Chris' fellow bartender was right. He didn't have to add a thing. This drink was excellent-- incredibly refreshing and bracing, it had a bold flavor that was instantly addictive and which stayed on your tongue far after the drink was done. It was brilliant. It tasted like the best lemonade I've ever had. This is a drink I would return to a bar for.

The drink had a lot of citrus, and that's where its success lay. Any chef will tell you that the best way to enhance the flavor of a dish is to add acidity--the acids brighten up the dish in a way that other flavor enhancers, like salt, simply cannot. Lemon and lime are some of the best sources of acid you can find, and as such prominent ingredients here, the cocktail was wonderfully vibrant. The citrus was especially skillful in enhancing the flavor of the chartreuse. It was a risky move to use the two kinds of chartreuse as the only alcohol in the cocktail. An aromatic liqueur, chartreuse is typically used as an accent, and doesn't really carry a cocktail the way something like, say, whiskey or gin can. But, here, it worked because of the balance that Chris achieved between the two chartreuses (the yellow variety tends to be sweeter, while the green is stronger and spicier) and the two citrus juices. Chris wouldn't tell me what was in it until after I'd tried it, and after my first taste, I asked him if there was basil in it. I was, of course, wrong, but after hearing the ingredients I understand why I was thrown. Chartreuse is distilled from herbs, and the acidity of the cocktail brought that herbaceous flavor to the forefront. It ended up having a somewhat earthy flavor, and lent itself to a more savory flavor profile than one would expect. Everything was in perfect proportion--the acid from the citrus was prominent without being abrasive, and the chartreuse was a subtle and strong addition. It was a perfect summer drink.

Seriously, everything was great. Even the texture was good--there were still little crystals of ice floating in the drink from after Chris shook it, which added an extra dimension to enjoying the drink and contributed to how refreshing the cocktail tasted. As we talked, it was clear that Chris was proud of his drink, as well he should have been. I never would have guessed he'd invented it on the spot--it tasted like a tried and true signature cocktail. And that's due entirely to Chris' skill.

Mr. Green, resting in front of his very own lemonade! Just like mama used to make! If mama made really good cocktails.

To compare it to the first drink in this Clue Junior series, I really liked the Miss Scarlet with the Cola, and Skytown is a bar I would definitely return to with a few friends for a great night out. But, if I'm going to a bar specifically for a cocktail, The Narrows wins hands down. The technical precision of these cocktails is just so on point. When giving me the ingredients, Chris actually included the exact measurements for each ingredient (I stupidly forgot to write them down, but I do remember that there was 3/4 of an ounce of both varieties of chartreuse). For anyone who thinks that cocktails are just combining ingredients, try to make the Mr. Green with the Lemonade for yourself. In layman's hands, this combination of ingredients would not work as successfully. But, with someone who knows how to handle them, and who understands the ins and outs of mixology, they sing. Should I ever find myself in Bushwick again, I know I'll be returning to The Narrows to try more of their signature drinks.

Also, I should mention that both this cocktail and the Caulfield's Dream (which was also excellent, by the way, but Elizabeth and I both actually preferred Chris' spontaneous creation) were $10. At the other bars of this quality that I've been to, these drinks would be anywhere between $14 and $20. So, not only does The Narrows offer great drinks, it's a really great value, and definitely one of my new favorite bars that I've visited for this blog.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Yes! I already said that this tasted like the best lemonade I've ever had, so even though it used lemon juice and not lemonade (which do taste drastically different) some combination of the ingredients created the effect of lemonade (memo to self: would The Lemonade Effect be a good name for a drink on this blog?) Even though there was lime juice in this drink as well, the lemon definitely was the stronger flavor, with the lime adding a certain sharpness that the lemon couldn't have provided on its own.

All this leaves is the green part. The cocktail actually green. A very light green, but undeniably green. It was light enough that it was actually hard to get a picture of it. In the picture above, the lighting kind of washes out the green accents. It's not great, but here's the picture I got of the drink that best showed the drink's color. Even here, it's hard to see, but I promise you it was green.

The green was not as prominent as it would have been if Chris had included creme de menthe or absinthe. I obviously have no complaints about this drink, but I was initially hoping for an absinthe drink--after 34 drinks for this blog, I STILL have only gotten one cocktail with absinthe in it! How is this possible?! But, it was still green enough to qualify for the name. Hey, the fact that it has green chartreuse in it at all would have meant this cocktail met that requirement. So, green? Check. Lemonade? Check? Mr. Green with the Lemonade? Check check check!

All in all, I'd say that my Clue cocktail endeavor was a rousing success. And there was not a single drink with mustard in it!

Now, if only I knew where that pesky slice of cake got to. Get out the police tape and seal off the exits, boys. We've got a mystery on our hands!