Thursday, December 29, 2011

Forgotten Fernet


I was born on December 27th a little over two decades ago and no, my birthdays have never been quite the celebration.  Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one all passed with about the same excitability as my eleventh.  Joint presents, friends out of town, and leftover Christmas cakes with candles are only the beginning of the clichés that surround my ill-placed “personal day of celebration”.  So, it was of total surprise that I found myself driving back to my new home in New Orleans to meet friends for a birthday that had been already planned out and put into place—by people other than myself. 
I was promised that this year would be different (read as fun).  So, in attempts to live up to the way of life in the Big Easy my birthday was planned around eating, imbibing and eating some more.  And after all I do live in the city of champions.  The Super Dome advertises it, the numerous restaurants represent it, and the people that this city is comprised of live it.  So today I would be a champion and visit two of the most talked about happy hours: Chef John Besh’s , Lüke and Domenica. 
Lüke was up first.  And I went.  And I saw.  But conquering might be open to opinion.  After a day of French Quarter ordered chaos I chose pâtÉ de campagne local pork, and almost two dozen 50 cent P&J oysters so talked about, as my “first course”.  I however severely overestimated my stomach’s capability to expand and keep up with the rate at which I devour my most coveted foods.  And needless to say I was knocked down but not out for the count.  It would be hard to admit that in all my naïve excitement I could have potentially ruined my own birthday with indigestion if it wasn’t for my determination to still head towards the Roosevelt hotel where Domenica is nestled.
I could not object my poor stomach to any more edible punishment, so my friend and I slid into two alligator-covered bar seats at the Sazerac Bar. And this is where I was introduced to the most underappreciated, manmade, god-given remedy.  Fernet branca and soda.
The sazerac (the drink) needs no introduction if one is even vaguely familiar with New Orleans, but fewer cocktail lovers know and understand the importance of bitters.  Now as “mixologists”, “cocktail chefs”, and whatever other pretentious terms have been invented, I would find it hard to believe if bitters did not skyrocket into stardom in the coming year.  Fernet is one of the most treasured of the herbaceous blends for chefs always tasting on the line and food lovers (like myself) who can’t seem to just put the fork down and close their mouths. 
         Fernet is a combination of numerous herbs and spices such as myrrh, aloe, saffron, and even wormwood and St. John’s wort, although those are just rumors.  Used mainly as a digestif (my preferred function that day) it can be mixed into other cocktails, soda, tea or coffee.  With the aforementioned ingredients it’s not hard to realize that sliding up to the bar and asking for a fernet and soda will not be the drink for a lazy afternoon, but trust me, if you love to eat as much and as often as I do just remember the forgotten bitter.

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