We sat down with Wiley Arnett of Rehab Burger Therapy and his bartender whipped up a concoction that sent me straight back to D’ Islands, Mon! My shoulders dropped away from my ears, and all was well with the world! The above pic was just sooooo much better than the shot I took of my cocktail. I’m still working on obtatining the recipe, but I can tell you what I tasted: Vodka, Coconut, Pineapple and some sort of sweet liqeur. May I suggest you pop down to RTB and ask for Mike’s Tai!!
Month: March 2016 (Page 2 of 3)
St. Patrick’s Day is upon us and I’m going to do what I do every year, dye my hair red and change my name to Molly Malone! Just kidding. I’m going to make a humongous pot of corned beef and stuff myself with Reuben Sandwiches for the next week! With so many topics to choose from with regard to the Irish and this particular holiday, it’s tough to target just one. After much consideration, and the bypass of Whiskey, I’m going with the aforementioned sandwich ~ The Reuben.
Aside from the corned beef, this classic creation isn’t even close to Irish; but, I’m a bit of a tangential thought traveler and it’s more fun that way… I like it when people have to catch up. Just in case you need a little boost, the thought process goes something like this: Irish, Shamrock, twisted little fairies, U-2, Danny Boy, Guinness, Whiskey, Hangover, Cabbage, Corned Beef…..SANDWICH! You with me, yet?
If you think about it, this is actually one hell of an international composition. Irish Corned Beef, German Sauerkraut, Russian Dressing, Swiss Cheese, and Jewish Rye. It’s like a few boys from the UN got together, downed a few pints and went digging through the larder! Here’s a little kicker, the creation of this delicacy came about during Protectionist and Nationalist administrations. Wonders never cease.
The controversy surrounding the birth of the Reuben run old, run deep and are somewhat amusing. I mean really, a one hundred year old debate about the genesis of a lunch menu item? There are as many claims to fame for The Reuben as there are delicatessens in South Florida. Chest thumping origins date from 1914 to 1937; from a few New York City Deli owners to a Lithuanian poker player who owned a grocery store in Omaha, Nebraska.
Arnold Reuben, founder of New York’s Reuben’s Restaurant and Delicatessen claims the creation was inspired in 1914 by an out of work actress who may or may not have been a Charlie Chaplin paramour. In an interview in 1937, Arnold details the ingredients of his “man sized sandwich” but does not include either corned beef or pastrami. He clearly remembers that the thespian in question, Annette Seelos, recommend that he name the sandwich after her. Marjorie Rambeau is turning in her grave.
Another New Yorker, Jacob Reuben, was a bit rebellious and felt that his family’s Jewish Orthodox ways were uncool. (I’m trying to fathom what being uncool looked like in the early 1920’s.) Jacob moved out of the family abode and was one the first Jews in Brooklyn to have just one kitchen – the other he converted into a study. Jake laid down his dibs on around 1925 whilst working the deli he opened in line with his career as a butcher. Corroborating accounts for this “Reuben” don’t rank highly.
Lithuanian born Reuben Kulakofsky hailed from Omaha, Nebraska and his claim appears more widely accepted. At about the same time that the Dagwood and Blondie comic strip came out, Mr. Kulakofsky was a wholesale grocer and co-owner of the Central Market in Omaha. “Kay”, as he was affectionately known, spent quite a bit of time with his poker buddies. They called themselves “The Committee” and liked to create sandwiches that sated them after rigorous hours of bluffing and puffing. One of the regulars at the table, Charles Schimmel, owned The Blackstone Hotel and put the sandwich on his menu; must have been Reuben’s lucky night.
Rather than put my stamp on anyone in particular, I’m going to take the safe route and assume that The Reuben simply evolved. But who cares anyway? Along with the fact that this sandwich is my personal favorite, it has a lot of history. You’ve got to admit that with so many people clamoring for ownership rights there’s just something special about The Reuben…like being Irish on St. Patrick’s Day!
If you’ll excuse me, I’ve decided to dig out my “Kiss Me I’m Irish” shirt, pop a Shamrock sticker on my face, dye my hair, and head down to the local Pub for a few pints. If St. Paddy’s Day is as much fun as it was last year, I’ll be making myself a Reuben around 2:00 a.m. Erin go Bragh!!
What a great show with amazing young talent providing us with great food, energy, passion and fun. YAY!!
When we arrived to record the show, Nick says, “So, I started the soup this morning but need to finish it for you. Do I have time?” I’m like, “Hell, yea! Bring me soup!” Not only did we get this coffee cup full of tippable delish, he made us brioche grilled cheese for the dippable portion. 2 words, Holy Shit!!
3 small celery roots, peeled and cut into 1″ cubes
9 cups vegetable stock
3 bay leaves
1 medium yellow onion
2 leeks, washed and sliced into thin rings
2 stalks of celery, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ c butter
1T fresh thyme leaves
salt & pepper, to taste
1 cup cream
In a large pot or Dutch oven, cook butter over medium-high heat. Add in the leeks and a pinch of salt and sauté for 4-5 minutes. Add in the garlic and celery and stir, and cook for 1-2 minutes more.
Add in the cubed celery root and stir to coat. Butter will brown, Careful not to heat pan to much or butter will burn. Add a bit more butter if necessary and cook for 2 minutes. Next, pour in the vegetable stock, Carefully. Add in the bay leaves, thyme, and a dash of salt and pepper. Bring the soup to a boil, and then reduce the heat to low and allow to simmer until celery root is tender (about 30 minutes).
Remove the soup from the heat. Using a blender purée the soup until smooth and creamy. Return the pot to the stove and stir in the cream. Bring the mixture to a boil. (If you would like to thin out the soup at this point, you can add in more cream or a bit more stock). Taste, and adjust seasonings if needed. Finish with a splash of red wine vinegar to brighten the flavor.
Well, color me happy and surprised! I asked Chef Nick Rusticus for our Weekly Whet recipe and he gave me a brief history of colonial America and the imbibing days of old. Suffice it to say; while there aren’t exact ingredient measurements, I’m sure our allegiance of alcohol admirers can figure it out!
Philadelphia Fish House Punch: Beginnings
Jamaican Rum, Brandy, Peach Brandy, lemon Juice, simple syrup, black tea, water
The Fish House Punch is arguably, as many cocktail origins are, one of the first truly American cocktails. Long before cocktails became what we thought of as modern, in the early American Colonies, Punches ruled the taverns and farmhouses of the new Nation. They were meant to tame the rough nature of the spirits of that era by adding sweet and citric elements to get an agreeable outcome. And when it is hot there is nothing more refreshing than an ice cold vessel of punch. Goblets, tankards, mugs, and virtually any other tippling vessel will work wonderfully.
In 1732, Schuylkill County, in current day Pennsylvania, was its’ own colony, and later its’ own sovereign State. The center of this, in the region between the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers lay the Schuylkill River Fish Company. All the members of this club fished, hunted, ate, toasted, and drank, all the while happily shielded from domestic responsibilities. The club hosted some of the early luminaries of our young Nation: George Washington, Marquis de Lafayette, Ben Franklin, and plenty of other venerable statesmen were hoisted at this club. George Washington, who was noted as a dedicated diarist, left his journal empty for the three days he visited the club. One can only assume it was the effects of this punch that led to his silence. Enjoy a tankard of punch whenever you feel patriotic or otherwise overwhelmed by the rigors of daily life.
Emily and I were talking about the art of imbibing and how you (meaning me) just might need to prep yourself prior to a big night. On very special occasions, my dad would stir a few raw eggs into a glass of buttermilk in order to coat the stomach. I believe this not only acts as a barrier for some seriously caustic cocktails, but also thwarts gastronomic guerilla warfare from too much rich food.
From this conversation we moved into discussions about the liver (meaning mine) and Emily painted a very entertaining picture of a Pop Eye-esque character with big guns, a pipe, and the determination of a defensive line backer. Earlier that same day I received an email entitled “What Your Overworked Liver is Dying to Tell You! Undo Years of Damage from Burgers….Booze…and Rx Drugs!” Yes, I looked over my shoulder AND under my desk. Here’s where things get even creepier; the article came with the cartoons below.
As interested as I might be in having my offal look much more like the fellow on the right and less awful (sorry) than the loser on the left, I didn’t really feel that a year’s supply of “Liver & Kidney Cleanse” was in my future …..and is that a cigar on the floor?????
Targeted emails freak me out!! It amuses me to imagine what people of other professions and walks of life get surprised with. Plumbers, for example, may open their Yahoo and see an ad for a new toilet cleaner; “Take the plunge and keep it clean.” Perhaps Cheese Mongers receive something like, “Break that barrier with Fiber Friends!” Who knows….
Well, anyway you slice it, my liver and I are on very good terms. A large container of Cranberry Juice takes center spot in my frig; I don’t ingest large amounts of caffeine or fast foods; my sleep number is 25 and I drink lots of water! So, how could I pass up the “Liver & Kidney Cleanse” with the extra special first time offer of gall bladder gun powder? Easy. I just drank a large glass of egg and buttermilk puree – see you at the bar:-)
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