Drink 21: The Feminist Orangutan

The Name: The Feminist Orangutan                                                                                 

The Bar: Jacob's Pickles (509 Amsterdam Avenue, between 84th & 85th st., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: Not going to have one of these this time because I'm actually going to explain the name in the "Ordering The Drink" section. I know it's off-putting, but, I promised spooky drinks this month, and what is more spooky than...FORMAT CHANGES?!?!

Most thing are spookier than format changes. But these lawn flamingos DEFINITELY are. That's why they're called spookymingos.

Ordering The Drink: The other night, I was having dinner with my friends Madeline, Jared, and Mary-- as the first two of which were visiting from Ohio. We were at one my favorite neighborhood restaurants, called Jacob's Pickles. I first took note of it because of its sign. Because, if you look at the sign, you would think that the name of the restaurant is "Beer Biscuits Pickles," which I think would be an even better name which would get right to the point.

Luckily, beer, biscuits, and pickles are all great things so I tried the restaurant out a few years ago and have been coming back every since! It's a very hipstery place, where everything that could possibly come in a mason jar comes in a mason jar.

As one would expect, they do have good beer, biscuits, and pickles. Here are some broken pieces of biscuit, topped with, from the left and going clockwise, maple butter and honey, strawberry jam, and orange marmalade. Yum.

They do, of course, serve more than beer, biscuits and pickles. One of the more distinct dishes on their menu is, perhaps, the "chicken and pancakes," which is exactly what it sounds like: fried chicken, pancakes, and maple syrup. And it comes with bacon because of course it fucking does.

Both Jared and Mary ordered the chicken and pancakes because why would you NOT order this?

They also have delicious macaroni and cheese, which I vouch for as a mac and cheese aficionado. It is not only delicious, but it is one of the largest portions of mac and cheese I've ever seen. By the end of the meal, it looked like Madeline, who ordered said mac and cheese, had barely touched her food at all.

It's possible that she had already eaten half of it at this point.

Now that, you're hungry, let's get to where the name "The Feminist Orangutan" came from. With Halloween coming up, we were discussing Halloween costumes and Madeline mentioned that she and her roommates had an idea for a theme costume where each one would go as a different type of wave-- one as a radio to represent a radio wave, one as the ocean to represent a water wave, and one as a microwave. And because all three of them are feminists, they would, combined, be going to the party as "The Three Waves of Feminism."

Now, I'm all for a good theme costume, but to me this whole idea seemed to not be all that well thought out. For one thing, seeing a radio is not going to immediately make someone think of "wave." And while the theme could maybe be "words that have the word WAVE after them," then that would mean they'd be going as a radio, an ocean, and a micro. Not a microwave. And even if someone were to miraculously figure out the "waves" theme, there's nothing to really signal that these are the three waves of feminism specifically. Lots of things can come in three waves. And so, while, in theory I like the idea of a costume that might educate people about the cultural and historical importance of the three waves of feminism, as a group costume, we all concluded that the whole thing could have really been thought out better.

Jared and Madeline at Jacob's Pickles. Madeline is not currently wearing her wave costume which is probably for the best.

After we got tired of pointing out flaws in this costume idea (like...seriously, though, who would want to dress up as a MICROWAVE) we turned to other topics of conversation, and eventually started talking about this blog, which only Madeline had known about previously. As I talked about it, Mary mentioned that her grandfather used to do something similar. Whenever he'd go to a bar, he would order "An Orangutan." The bartender would inevitably go "What's that?" since it's not a real drink, but apparently her grandfather would act shocked and go "You don't know?! This is a standard! You should really know this drink!" and make up some mixture that he wanted to drink, all the while insisting it was a classic drink that every bartender should know. We all agreed that I should definitely order a drink for the blog at Jacob's Pickles-- while they are primarily a restaurant, they have a great bar which is filled with a really nice beer selection and some really great signature cocktails-- while I can't imagine going there and NOT getting at least some biscuits or something, I imagine going there just for a drink would be really fun too. While we considered ordering "The Three Waves of Feminism," we ultimately wanted to honor Mary's grandfather, and combined these two conversations, settling on ordering a drink called-- you guessed it-- The Feminist Orangutan.

Mary and I, excited about ordering the drink.

The restaurant was absolutely packed (it usually is) and so it took a while to get our drink. Apparently, the bartender initially was skeptical, but eventually gave in. I can't speak to their reaction firsthand, but I know our waitress seemed really excited about the idea. While we waited, we tried to guess what might be in the drink. We offered a few ideas, but were all in consensus that the drink had to be orange. Like...if it wasn't orange then the drink could pretty much be considered a failure right then and there. Luckily, our waitress returned with a bright orange drink in hand.

The Drink:

The Feminist Orangutan

Four Roses Bourbon

Lemon Juice
Orange Juice
Orange Bitters
Chocolate Bitters

Assessment of Drink: As the pictures of food earlier in the blog probably demonstrated, the philosophy at Jacob's Pickles is basically to make sure that everything is delicious. And this drink was no exception to that rule. It was addictively yummy-- and everyone at the table agreed. And it was a surprisingly complex drink too. Having the orange juice and the lemon juice together seemed surprising to me, as I would think that one of the citruses would get lost, but both were needed. The orange was clearly the prominent flavor, but the lemon served as a bright accent. And the bourbon admirably prevented the drink from being too acidic, and definitely made its presence known (it wasn't exactly a strong drink, but the bartender also had clearly not skimped on the bourbon). While I can't really speak to how the orange bitters affected the drink, the chocolate bitters were also a really nice touch-- they kept the drink from being way too sweet, and came through especially strong in the drink's aftertaste-- a nice flavor to have linger on your tongue after you took a sip. I usually find that drinks with orange juice become all about the orange juice, but the bourbon, chocolate, and lemon really helped make this drink feel remarkably balanced. 

As you can tell, I was very happy with the drink.

Honestly, I cannot think of a single negative thing to say-- this is the type of drink I would remember from a bar, and would return to that bar specifically to order it again. It was that good, and definitely one of the better drinks I've gotten for this blog. I knew Jacob's Pickles wouldn't let me down!

Jared's first attempt at taking the above picture was slightly more...artistic.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Sure! Like I said before, the drink basically had to be orange, and it was, so it definitely fulfilled the "orangutan" part. I would have liked to have talked to the bartender about what was "feminist" about the drink. Since the waitress specifically mentioned the brand of bourbon as Four Roses, I'm guessing that was supposed to represent feminism somehow. Because "Rose" is a female name? Because roses are flowers and they are generally considered to be feminine? I'm not sure. To be fair, I'm not sure what one COULD have done to make the drink seem feminist. In my mind, I was imaging taking what is typically called a "girly drink," like a Cosmo or something, but then just LOAD it with Scotch or something else that packs a punch. Plus orange juice to make it orange. That actually would probably be delicious.

So, does this drink fit the name perfectly? Definitely not. But, with less scrutiny, it fits the name in a pinch. And it was so delicious that I really couldn't have cared less. Great food, great drinks, great atmosphere-- if you are ever on the Upper West Side, you should definitely take the time to stop by Beer Biscuits Pickles!

Also, there wasn't a time to mention this naturally in the post, but, orangutans are really cool, you guys.

Drink 20: The Sinister Minister

The Name: The Sinister Minister                                                                              

The Bar: WXOU Radio Bar (558 Hudson St., New York City) and White Horse Tavern (567 Hudson St., New York City)

The Story Behind The Name:  

Sadly, this post has nothing to do with this fantastic typo from Australian television a while back. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

As mentioned in some previous posts, I work as a magic toy salesman. And as such, some days, I work at the Toys R Us in Times Square. The largest toy store in the world, it's a pretty remarkable place, filled with a functional ferris wheel, an animatronic T-Rex, and tons of stuff that are probably super exciting to kids who walk through the store. But as fun as the store is, once one becomes familiar with the store, it starts to feel remarkably mundane. It's, ultimately, just like any other workplace (although, again, most workplaces don't have a T-Rex). Behind the scenes, the job has perks and frustrations just like any other job. And nowhere is this more apparent than when you step into the Toys R Us breakroom. Which is a breakroom just like any other office breakroom. Which means it is a rather depressing place.

 The only real amenity in the dimly lit breakroom is a television. Now, theoretically, anyone can change the channel on this thing, but as I don't actually work for the store, I don't typically feel like I should. And, it seems, neither does anyone else in the store. Because of this, I have never actually seen anyone change the channel, and it typically stays the same throughout the day. Which means that there are only a handful of things ever on the screen, and most of them are pretty terrible. But I get excited when the Toys R Us breakroom television is on one particular channel: the Investigation Discovery Channel.

The channel SO EXCITING that they couldn't come up with a tagline other than just saying the name of the channel.

Now, I don't have any television feed and simply rely on Hulu and Netflix and other sites for my television viewing needs, so I did not know about the Investigation Discovery Channel until I worked at Toys R Us, and I am so glad that someone who works there likes their programming, because it is amazing. And by amazing I mean terrible. All of their shows are documentaries about "true crime" stories-- various shows about criminals and the people who catch them. Which is fine, and I will admit that some of their shows are probably well done. But, what makes me find this channel really amusing is that there are only so many shows that they can really create. Like, when you make documentary shows about crimes, it doesn't give you much variety. On other non-fiction channels, like National Geographic, PBS, History Channel, or TLC--you know, back when TLC made actual shows that a real person would watch like Trading Spaces and not shows with titles like Breaking Amish: Los Angeles which is actually a show on a channel that calls itself The Learning Channel and that makes me sad-- there's at least a broad range of subjects one can cover. 

In this moment, the Cake Boss realized what his life had become. He was an artist once. He made people happy with his confectionary creations. Now...now, he's on TLC.

But, on Investigation Discovery, it's ONLY crime documentaries. Nothing else. And because of this, Investigation Discovery offers a bunch of shows that are the exact same show-- which follow a basic theme of how a crime was committed and, subsequently, solved-- but with a SLIGHT variation. And, I have to say, the fact that they have come up with some of these shows demonstrates a lot of creativity on the part of the Investigation Discovery executives. There's the show I (Almost) Got Away With It which is told from the perspective of the criminal as opposed to the law enforcement.  There's the show Motive which tells you how a crime was committed but doesn't reveal why until the very end of the hour. Which is really funny because it's usually obvious. There will be opening narration like "Mr. Moneybanks McRichguy was killed by his only son and sole inheritor who received the entirety of his vast fortune. But...what could his motive have been? Could it have been the money? Or...something else entirely?"

Hint: it's not the second option.

One of the worst shows is called I Was Murdered (which is much less ridiculous, albeit much blunter than its original title Stolen Voices; Buried Secrets) which is told from the victim's perspective. And by that, I mean, it is actually narrated by an actor pretending to be the victim. Which I think we can all agree is incredibly disrespectful. "I was a loving wife. An attentive mother. I had a happy life. But all of that was cut short when I was killed. Did my murderers know that I was planning to go to Costa Rica in a month?" NO. NO THEY DID NOT, VOICE ACTRESS, BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT THIS PERSON. AND ALSO BECAUSE YOU JUST TOLD US THEY WERE RANDOM ROBBERS WHO BROKE IN.

In general, the Investigation Discovery channel is a wonderful blend of being slightly informative, but also just incredibly trashy, and I must say that its bad reenactments and overly dramatic narrations are just remarkably entertaining. I'm pretty sure that they have used the same stories (and, most likely, the same footage) for all of these different shows too.

But, for all of my badmouthing, Investigation Discovery also offers my favorite television show of all time. More than Breaking Bad. More than Arrested Development. My favorite show is called...Sinister Ministers.

See?! It's a real show! And the tagline is "Collared" which makes me really happy.

Full disclosure, I have never seen a single episode of this show, but the very fact that it exists fills me with joy. I laughed out loud when I saw a commercial for it. The show is about priests who did illegal things, and that's obviously not what makes me happy. It's JUST the title. Because you KNOW that they were filming an episode about a criminal priest and then someone realized that "sinister" and "minister" rhymed. And then they said "Wait, we can't just waste that. We need to make this into a show." And that's what they did. Because Investigation Discovery are true pioneers in the golden age of television. Somebody give these folks a Peabody.

As I said, I've never seen this show, and I never plan to. I probably wouldn't care for it if I did. But, in the meantime, let's just be glad that this rhyming title exists and that they just went for it.

Ordering The Drink: As I said in my last post, I'm doing a month of Halloween-themed drinks (I figured the "sinister" part of this drink name made it appropriate) and wanted to go to some haunted bars to order drinks. One bar that consistently came up when I researched haunted bars in NYC was White Horse Tavern. White Horse Tavern is a rather famous bar in Greenwich Village, which was once frequented by some of New York's most prominent literary figures, including but not limited to Bob Dylan, Anais Nin, Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thomas, and Jack Kerouac. But the figure most commonly associated with the tavern is Dylan Thomas who, it is alleged, had a drink there the night that he died. If that's not spooky enough, it is said that he haunts the bar, and people have reported seeing him sitting at his usual table having a drink.

It is also said that Thomas haunts the Chelsea Hotel. Which might make more sense since, you know, that's where he actually died.

Because of this, I purposefully set out to have a drink at the White Horse Tavern this month. It's a hopping place-- and while it is often visited by tourists due to its famous past clientele, it doesn't feel particularly touristy, which is a plus. I took a seat at the bar and, as always, told the bartender that I had an unusual request, and wondered if he could make me a drink based solely on a name. He looked away for a second, considered, and then said, "No."

Now, I've always known that, if I did this blog long enough, I would eventually meet a bartender who wanted nothing to do with this. Bartenders have to put up with a lot, after all, and I can see how it would be a bit of an annoying request (which is why I always leave a substantial tip and try to be as polite and unobtrusive as possible). But, nonetheless, I was a bit surprised to meet with my first refusal.

"No?" I asked.

"Not tonight," he said. I said that was fine, and ordered a cider (which was very cheaply priced and came in a huge glass which was great). The bartender later explained that, apparently, I had "missed the excitement," and something had happened right before I arrived (he didn't elaborate, but my guess is it probably involved drunk people), so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say that on another night, he might have made the drink for me. And he was perfectly pleasant otherwise, and never came across as rude. Still, I found the rejection fairly disappointing, as I have received a regularly positive response elsewhere. I finished my cider and took my leave-- with no sign of Dylan Thomas' ghost.

But, I still wanted my drink. And, as I stood on the street, I could hear the sound of bar ambience. Directly across from the street from the White Horse Tavern, I saw a sign.

This sign, in fact.

I entered the establishment-- which, as the sign says, is called WXOU Radio Bar-- and had high hopes. It felt like a pretty standard dive bar-- that sort of comfortable, reliable, place that every neighborhood needs. As one would expect from a place with "radio" in the title, the music was fantastic, with a jukebox full of old-time, feel-good classics prominently on display. The place was smaller than White Horse Tavern, but was similarly bustling, but the clientele did seem to be more neighborhood locals as opposed to tourists. Which was a great sign.

None of these people are looking at maps or wearing "I <3 NY" paraphernalia, so, yeah, probably not tourists.

Once I asked the bartender if he'd be willing to make a drink for me based solely on the name, he sighed a little bit and looked kind of frustrated. He considered the request for a while, and I was genuinely worried I would be turned down for the second time that night. "What is this for?" he asked, suspiciously. At this point, I was most certainly not going to tell him that I run a blog because I had a feeling he would just kick me out then and there, so I lied and said it was "just for fun," and assured him that I would really be happy no matter what. Ultimately, he agreed, and I gave him the name "Sinister Minister." He set about making the drink...but not before double checking that this wasn't a pre-existing drink. He seemed to think I might be testing him but, I assured him I was not.

The Drink:

The Sinister Minister-- the white ring on top is, to me, the minister's collar but that was definitely unintentional.

Rye

Captain Morgan Spiced Rum

Orange Juice

Cranberry Juice

Sour Mix

finished with Ginger Ale and Club Soda, with a Lime garnish

 

Assessment of Drink: My bartender, after getting over his suspicion concerning my drink order, loosened up quite a bit and I think (and hope) he enjoyed making the drink. After he set it down and explained the drink and its ingredients, he joked "Now, that'll be thirty-eight dollars." He also seemed very concerned about his creation-- apologetically saying that he had never made the drink before so he really had no idea what it was like. He tried a tiny bit with a straw, though, and seemed to think it was okay. Later, after I had finished half of it, he returned and asked me how it was, saying "I hope it's drinkable." Poor guy. He really seemed to not want to let me down.

I wanted a picture of my bartender, but, again, was pretty fearful about getting thrown out/judged so I tried to take it sneakily and it ended up being a really bad picture.

And he didn't let me down at all! I thought this was a really good drink. It had a lot more going on in it than in a standard cocktail you get in a divey bar like this. I liked all of the flavors individually, but didn't know how these would work together. But I thought that the rye and the spiced rum really worked together well-- the spiciness bringing out the subtler tones of the rye, while the fruit juices added some necessary sweetness (although, I would not describe this as a "sweet" drink at all-- probably due to the tart cranberry).

But, this drink was, admittedly, imperfect. I feel like by playing with proportions a bit more, this one would be perfected but, as is, it was definitely serviceable but needed a bit more fine-tuning. The big thing was the sour mix. Now, I'm a fan of sour mix (my drink of choice when I'm not ordering drinks with weird names is a Whiskey Sour, after all) but in this case it was out of place and a little bit too overpowering. With a little less sour mix, it might have worked really well, but with so many flavors working with each other, the sour mix seemed to stand out and that was unfortunate, because it masked a lot of the other nice flavors going on. And, which finishing the cocktail with club soda was necessary (more on that in a bit) it watered down the drink a little bit too much. Had the rye and the rum been a bit more prominent, I think this could have been a truly excellent drink. As is, it was still very nice, and definitely lifted my spirits for the evening.

Does It Live Up To The Name: I had wondered how this drink would turn out, and figured there were many ways one could go. And my bartender at WXOU Radio had a great solution and used the tried-and-true strategy of building upon a pre-existing cocktail. In this case, he used The Presbyterian, which is whiskey, finished with ginger ale and club soda. As he explained the drink, he seemed to not stand by this, saying the jump was "a leap," but, to me, this explanation works really well. And, since the rye, ginger ale, and club soda represent the Presbyterian minister, that means the other ingredients must be the "sinister" part of the equation. And I thought this was great. The spiced rum is not just any spiced rum, it was Captain Morgan, and pirates are DEFINITELY sinister. And the tartness of the sour mix and, especially, the cranberry juice (as well as the devilish red color that it loans the drink) could definitely be perceived as "sinister" too. That means the only superfluous ingredient here is the orange juice

The most sinister of all beverages.

So, in general, I thought this was one of the best interpretations of the name that I've gotten for this blog. And, like I said, tasted good to boot. All in all, I had a much better time at WXOU Radio Bar than at the White Horse Tavern. It may not have the literary history or name recognition, but if you're ever in the neighborhood, give WXOU a shot. Good drinks, good music, and a good time had by all. Nothing sinister about that.

Drink 19: The Third Greatest Tragedy

The Name: The Third Greatest Tragedy                                                                            

The Bar: Public (210 Elizabeth Street, NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: October, to me and to many others, is definitely Halloween month. There's something about the entire month that just feels generally spooky, and I love that. And so, for the month of October, in honor of Halloween, What's That Drink will have a Halloween theme. I'm looking forward to it and I hope you are too.

If I don't get at least one drink served in a cauldron I'm going to be really disappointed.

And, to start off this month of scary drinks, we have a drink inspired by a ghost tour that I took in New York City. The most awkward, terrible, and somehow amazing ghost tour of all time.

I'm guessing that most people know what a ghost tour is, but in case, it's a tour where you are lead to a lot of old buildings and told ghost stories. They are, of course, a lot of fun, and there are several that operate out of New York City around this time of year-- unsurprising considering that New York is an old city filled with lots of history. Two years ago, I went on one such ghost tour with some friends, and was very excited. I figured it might be a little cheesy, but would undoubtedly be a lot of fun, filled with some cool historical anecdotes and some spooky stories.

Our tour met at Washington Square Park, and we were introduced to our tour guide, a kindly older woman named Alice. Alice began the tour by apologizing and letting us know that she was not the usual tour guide-- she was the replacement tour guide who was called in when other people couldn't do it. And while all the other tour guides were actors and performers, she was a teacher. Despite this less than confident introduction, we all had faith in Alice and were sure she would do a great job. We would soon learn, sadly, that she would not do a great job at all.

The tour started off creepily enough. Alice polled the group to ask us who believed in ghosts and who did not. She further asked if anyone could see ghosts and then, most interestingly, asked if anyone on the tour used to see ghosts as a child and had since lost the gift. She explained that she herself was in this category, having experienced supernatural occurrences as a child. We were excited to hear that story, but Alice decided to bring us to our first location.

Alice brought us over to the first stop on the tour-- an old brick building. At this point, we were really amped up-- giddy like children gathered around a campfire. Once the entire tour was together, Alice spoke.

"The greatest tragedy in New York's history was, of course, 9/11." she said.

This put a bit of a damper on things. With that one sentence, all giddiness had subsided. But Alice had more to say on the matter.

"Even now, more than ten years later, people are still affected. Many died that day, and many survivors continue to struggle with medical issues from the attack. Volunteers and relief workers continue to fight for legal compensation for the health issues they face from their selfless efforts."

What the hell, Alice?! I mean, this is all true, and obviously September 11th was a terrible tragedy, but this seemed like a really strange thing to be talking about. We all just sort of stared around awkwardly, unsure of how Alice expected us to be reacting. Alice trudged along with her speech.

"The second greatest tragedy was when a passenger steamboat caught fire and sank in the East River. It is estimated that over one thousand people perished in that devastating accidents, but the exact number is, and forever shall be, unknown."

It was at this point that I grew concerned. We were, after all, nowhere near the East River. Nor were we near Ground Zero. What was Alice talking about?

"The third greatest tragedy was..."

At this point, I remember distinctly having to stifle what would have been an incredibly inappropriate giggle. But I found the thing so ludicrous. It seemed to me that Alice had completely forgotten the point of the tour. There would be no ghost stories this night. She was just going to keep listing terrible things that had happened in New York City until we all decided to go home.

"The five-hundred-and-thirty-second greatest tragedy was this one time when I bought a month-long unlimited Metro Card and lost it a week later and it was really inconvenient."

Luckily for us, this is not what happened. And the third greatest tragedy was actually relevant. (For those who are curious, the third greatest tragedy in New York City history was the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire-- which occurred at the old building we were standing in front of. It's not a particularly funny story, so I won't talk about it here, but if you don't know about it, I highly recommend reading about this important, tragic, and interesting story from history.)

Alice's ghost tour continued in a similarly somber mood. The ghost stories might have been really fun with a more excited storyteller, but as Alice said at the beginning, she was not a performer, and her storytelling was fairly half-hearted. At the end of the story, which, you know, is usually where a scary thing happens, Alice would typically adopt an apologetic tone. After talking about the creepy rumors of various hauntings around downtown Manhattan, she would subsequently say along the lines of "But, you know, maybe not. I don't know, it could be true, but it might not be," which really downplayed the whole point of the tour itself. The entire tour felt, frankly, uncomfortable. At one point, I tried to liven up the tour when we passed by an apartment where, from a partially obscured window, we could see legs moving about. "They're the legs of ghosts!" I cried. "No, those are people that live there," said Alice.

There was also no actual talk of ghosts. Alice encouraged people to take pictures on the ghost tour and said "Maybe some ghosts will appear in the photos. Many ghost experts say that they appear as orbs." We asked Alice to clarify what sort of orbs she was talking about. 

"You know," she said, "orbs of light. Like those little circles you get in photos when the camera has too much glare."
"You mean, those orbs are ghosts?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes that just happens in pictures, though, and the orbs are not ghosts."

Perhaps most frustratingly, it seemed like Alice was never going to talk about the supernatural experiences from her own childhood, which we had all really been looking forward to hearing. One member of our group, Alexis, finally outright asked Alice what sorts of experiences she had had.

"One time, I saw my sister in a room that she wasn't," said Alice. "But then, later, she said that, yeah, she actually was there."

I hate to be too much of a skeptic, especially since I'm not 100% sure what exactly Alice was talking about, but something about that statement implies that the magic of Alice's childhood experiences had been greatly exaggerated.

All in all, it completely failed as a ghost tour. But, it succeeded mightily as an Alice tour. She was absolutely endearing in her misguided efforts, and I must admit that I had a great time in spite of her utter lack of tour-guiding talent.

And so, in Alice's honor, I ordered a drink called The Third Greatest Tragedy. May she continue to list the horrible things that have happened in New York forever and ever, and may she one day figure out if her sister is actually in that room or not.

This one time a bagel dropped on the sidewalk. And that was the eight-thousand-and-fifty-ninth tragedy in the history of New York.

Ordering The Drink: I was out with my friend Arun, who fans of this blog will recognize from when I ordered the Male Pregnancy Test. He mentioned that he knew of a great bar which specialized in the sort of drinks that I order for this blog, so we made our way over to Public-- an acclaimed restaurant in its own right which has a lovely bar area. Sure enough, on their cocktail list, there was a note that if nothing struck your fancy, you could talk to the bartender and they'd make something different for you. As they put it, "We love a great cocktail challenge!" Well, that's what they were going to get.

A waiter came over to take our drink order. I, of course, ordered a drink called The Third Greatest Tragedy (otherwise you wouldn't be reading this blog post) and Arun decided to get in on the action too. While he didn't order a drink based on the name, he asked the bartender to create a drink inspired by the last day of summer. I may be a writer, but Arun is a true poet, apparently. The waiter brought our requests to the bartender and we were certainly excited for our drinks. 

Arun was so excited, he wouldn't stay in focus.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of a complication. One minute after our order had been placed, the bartender came out from behind the bar and approached our table. "WHAT do you want?" he asked? We repeated our request and he laughed. Apparently there had been some confusion (the waiter thought that I had ordered this drink at the bar before and wanted him to recreate it, so naturally he was a bit confused) but after everything was cleared up he returned to the bar and set about crafting our cocktails. In not too long, the drinks were brought to our table.

The bartender at Public crafts our custom drinks.

The Drink:

The Third Greatest Tragedy which, hopefully, would not be a tragedy at all.

Rye

Angostura Bitters

Ramazzotti Amaro

Cynar

Sweet Vermouth

Lemon peel garnish 

Assessment of Drink: This was a very solid drink. And certainly a strong one. And when I say strong, I don't just mean in terms of alcohol content, I mean in terms of boldness of flavor. A lot was going on here-- and it had a certain bitter flavor (although a not unpleasant one). Rye is known for being generally spicier than other whiskeys, and certainly came through here-- this drink showcased the rye very well. The bitterness of the Amaro, Cynar, and angostura bitters were present, but more as a highlight to the rye itself (I was excited that Cynar was used-- it's a really intriguing liqueur made from artichokes). This complimented the rye nicely, and brought out some of the rye's fruitier undertones. I have gotten a lot of lemon peel garnishes for this blog, and this one had another nice, thick slice of rind accompanying it, but this was the drink where I found the lemon most present. The peel was especially fragrant, and that citrusy aroma further enhanced the drink's bitterness. I don't think this would be a drink for everyone, but I must say that as someone who is not usually a fan of specifically bitter drinks, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this-- it was a lot smoother than I would have imagined (perhaps from the touch of sweet vermouth) and clearly well-balanced. It was bitter, sure, but the bitterness was clearly well-utilized and was oddly comforting and hearty.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Absolutely. While the bartender didn't discuss his intentions behind the drink specifically, it was clear that the bitterness of this drink was meant to symbolize the tragedy. And perhaps the trio of specifically bitter ingredients-- the Amaro, the Cynar, and the Angostura-- was what made this drink the THIRD greatest tragedy. I can't be sure of the intentions, but it definitely worked for me, and made a lot of sense. There was that nice, slight stinging in your throat while drinking any strong cocktail, which made for a more pleasant interpretation of a "tragedy." Not that I would expect any bartender to do this-- especially at a fancy establishment such as Public-- but part of me was worried I would just be given some sort of abomination in a cup and be told "Hey, you asked for a tragedy." I think the bartender at Public found a great balance between living up to the name, and making a delectable drink.

But, if he made the Third Greatest Tragedy well, then this bartender ESPECIALLY nailed Arun's drink inspired by the last day of summer.

The last day of summer in a glass.

This drink was fantastic, and consisted of gin, lemon bitters, vermouth, and aperol. What was great is that it was also a somewhat bitter drink, but the aperol provided a really sweet aftertaste. It tasted like the bitterness of autumn, but still with that memory of the sweet summer. Plus, it was light and refreshing drink, such as one might want to sip on a hot day (and as the days are getting colder, the time for light and refreshing drinks is running short).

Both drinks were very different, and both executed to a tee. I am sure that the regular cocktails at Public are great, but if you, I encourage you to take them up on their offer for a "great cocktail challenge," and let the bartender craft a one-of-a-kind creating. Judging from their successes here, I can't imagine you will be disappointed.

The two custom drinks, side by side.