New to this blogging thing, but here goes nothing…

If you’re reading this- Welcome. My only goal is to put forth a somewhat coherent record of my all-too-busy brain’s thoughts and feelings about life, but more specifically, food and drink in my beloved Boston.

Sitting at the bar at the Franklin Cafe (278 Shawmut Ave, Boston) last night, I couldnt help feeling calm and quiet inside, no thanks to the pumping house-cum-breakbeat jams that were pulsating through the dark, almost dungeon-like space.

Karen, an attractive blonde woman, greeted me with a smile and an air of carefree whimsy, which I took as an invitation to lay my drinking fate in her hands. I only let on that I was a Bourbon drinker, and she returned with a wonderful take on a classic, and top favorite of mine, a Sidecar. However, the brandy was replaced with Makers Mark (I would have gone a little more top-shelf for the intricacy of flavor, but thats not what I asked, so I let it go), and once I asked her for the addition of 2 or 3 dashes of Fee Brothers Orange Bitters, I was perfectly content.

I am not a sweet cocktail guy AT ALL. Or, I should say, not anymore. Since my “transformation” 8 or 9 months ago, I’ve embarked on a quest to subject my tastebuds to all things savory, bitter, salty and otherwise not of the sucretous (made up, but you get the point) persuasion. However, this drink made me feel like a vegetarian after his/her first bite of roast suckling pig.

The subtlety and sweet/tangyness of the Cointreau contrasted beautifully with the pungent and aromatic orange bitters. The bourbon did its job of staying mostly out of the way, but as I said before, a more complex spirit would have lent a little more heat, which would have been most welcomed. The lemon juice, which i might add, was being poured out of giant 2-quart containers (do they REALLY squeeze that much fresh stuff everyday? I’m skeptical.) just took the edge off with a much-needed tang.

Karen- you did me a real mitzvah (i apologize….but I’m swedish, and our only word for something that approaches that would sound like a garbage disposal going off). Skol.

Thats it for now, I’m heading to work to satiate the bellys and tastebuds of the first unlucky souls braving the fallacy that is Restaurant Week in Boston. More on that later.

~ by crispypig on August 14, 2007.

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