Why do we celebrate Labor Day? Is it because 200 hundred years ago, President Cleveland was feeling a tad sheepish about that whole Pullman-Strike debacle? Possibly. But I think it serves a grander purpose. It’s because we’re all tired and could really use an extra day to catch up on our reading. It’s because the warm weather won’t be around forever. It’s because society needs some definitive deadline on the appropriate wearing of white.
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So, in honor of this most tranquil of days, a punch!
Planter’s Punch
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One, two, three, four, punch. Punch, which literally means five in Farsi, Hindi, and over a dozen other languages, should have a minimum of five different ingredients. John O’Hara probably did not know this. Something of a barroom brawler, he believed a punch needed only a clenched fist.
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2 oz. dark rum 1 oz. light rum 1/2 oz. Grand Marnier 1/2 oz. simple syrup 1/2 oz. lime juice 1 oz. orange juice 1 oz. pineapple juice 1 dash of grenadine 2 dashes of Angostura bitters
Maraschino cherry
Orange slice
Pineapple wedge
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Pour all ingredients (except fruit) into a cocktail shaker filled with ice cubes. Shake, and then strain into a Collins glass filled with ice cubes. Garnish with cherry, orange slice, and pineapple wedge. Serve with two straws.
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–From Hemingway & Bailey’s Bartending Guide to Great American Writers
I feel like I’ve been having a lot of conversations about love lately–or rather, the nature of relationships. And I’ve come to the following conclusion: The very person you pine for, swoon over, and generally idolize also inspires you to plot elaborate murder-suicide scenarios which include dragging your beloved around by the (undoubtedly luscious) hair. Love is painful. And not in the 90-minute-Meg-Ryan-romantic-comedy sort of way. Some days it seems like it just might not be worth the fuss. Those days, we can be thankful forHemingway & Bailey’s Bartending Guide to Great American Writers.
Dashiel Hammett and Lillian Hellman spent the drunker part of thirty years together, a literary power couple who not only understood the absurdities of being in a relationship, but took love and alcohol very seriously.
During one evening, drunk and arguing with Hellman, Hammett took the cigarette he was smoking and began to grind it out on his cheek. “What are you doing!” screamed Hellman. Hammett’s answer, “Keeping myself from doing it to you.”
Hungover and facing the Broadway opening of The Children’s Hour, Hellman got blind drunk on brandy. Waking the next morning and hungover yet again, she got herself a cold beer and telephoned Hammett, who was living in Los Angeles. She reached his secretary. Two days later Hellman would realize: (1) at the time she called it was three A.M. in California, and (2) Hammett had no secretary. She took the first plane out, got drunk en route, and went directly to Hammett’s house. She smashed his bar to pieces and flew back to New York.
Points to Hammett for subtlety, but Hellman displays an endurance, patience, and aptitude for unapologetic violence that far surpasses Hammett’s masochistic little stunt. In honor of the crazy things that people do because of love (and inebriation), we have Hellman’s drink of choice, a favorite of her good buddy Hemingway: the daiquiri.
Daiquiri
2 oz. light rum 1 oz. lime juice 3/4 oz. simple syrup
Lime wheel
Pour all ingredients into a cocktail shaker filled with ice cubes. Shake well. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lime wheel. Try not to put burning things out on your face/ fly three thousand miles to deface property. Enjoy!
Everyone at Algonquin is excited about the charming little memoir we’re publishing this week, The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating–a true story about how life, even on the smallest scale, can be rewarding. There’s some major press coming in the near future, including a feature in the New York Times and an interview with Scott Simon on NPR’s “Weekend Edition Saturday.” Clearly, we’re not the only ones taken with the book. We were so taken that we adoptedsome snails of our own: Snooki and The Situation, and their little baby, J-Wow. Aren’t they adorable?
Today we present you with an excerpt from the book, and tomorrow we’ll have an in-depth Q&A with the author, Elisabeth Tova Bailey. And when the New York Times feature and NPR interview happen, we’ll feature those, too.
Either way, it’s a Friday and it’s a day of note so there must be festivities and there must be a toast. And who better to guide us than our literary authority on all things doom, gloom, and fright?
Edgar Allan Poe had a great affection for absinthe. Sixty-eight percent alcohol mixed with a toxic herb called wormwood, absinthe was the drink of choice for poets and artists of the mid- to late nineteenth century. Until banned in 1912, absinthe was a key ingredient of the Sazerac. One of the first cocktails created in America, the Sazerac originated in New Orleans in the early 1800s. We have replaced the absinthe with Pernod. We hope Poe will forgive us.
SAZERAC
3 dashes of Pernod 2 oz. rye whiskey 1/4 oz. simple syrup 3 dashes of Peychaud bitters
Lemon twist
Pour Pernod into a chilled Old-Fashioned glass. Swirl until entire inside of glass is coated, then discard excess. Pour rye, simple syrup, and bitters into a mixing glass filled with ice cubes. Stir well. Strain into the Old-Fashioned glass (no ice). Garnish with lemon twist.
–From Hemingway & Bailey’s Bartending Guide to Great American Writers
Algonquin Books can’t help but feel a special bond with Dorothy Parker and the members of the Algonquin Round Table, despite the fact that we are not, as many believe, named after the Algonquin Round Table.
Parker is known for having one of the sharpest tongues of the era (she occupies two spots on the list of the 10 Most Devastating Insults of All Time), a famously dark disposition, and a pen that was, without a doubt, mightier than any sword.
Although married a number of times, Parker was chronically lonely. Her one enduring romance seems to have been with the bottle. She shared a tiny office with pal Robert Benchley and joked, “An inch smaller and it would have been adultery,” but alas the two friends were never to become romantically involved. Parker relied upon liquor and wit to combat her loneliness. Such as when she was admitted to a sanatorium and announced that she would have to leave every hour or so for a cocktail. Her doctor refused, telling her that if she didn’t stop drinking, she’d be dead within the month. Parker’s reply: “Promises, promises.”
Parker, who initially did not like the taste of alcohol, started out drinking Tom Collinses. But gin made her sick, so she soon moved on to scotch and water. Later she discovered champagne. She immediately composed a poem to her new love: “Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.”
Drop sugar cube into a chilled champagne flute and soak with bitters. Fill with champagne. Garnish with twist. Sometimes an ounce of cognac is added (if you’re lucky).
During these long, hot summer days, nothing feels quite so right as sitting down with a good book, a chilled beverage at your side. We hand out suggestions about good books like candy, but I feel we’ve been lacking in the beverage department. To remedy that, today we have a recipe for the Mojito, courtesy of Hemingway & Bailey’s Bartending Guide to Great American Writers (illustrated by Edward Hemingway and Written by Mark Bailey).
Hemingway (Ernest, of course) is associated with any number of cocktails, but perhaps none more so than the Mojito. The drink was invented at La Bodeguita del Medio in Havana, Cuba, where Papa drank them, as did Brigitte Bardot, Nat King Cole, Jimmy Durante, Erroll Flynn, and countless others. Enjoy!
Mojito
6 fresh mint sprigs 1 oz. lime juice 3/4 oz. simple syrup 2 oz. light rum
Lime Wedge
Crush 5 mint sprigs into the bottom of a chilled highball glass. Pour in lime juice, simple syrup, and rum. Fill glass with crushed ice. Garnish with lime wedge and remaining mint sprig. Sometimes a splash of club soda is added, according to individual taste.
No matter how many summers I’ve done this, every time I make a batch of raspberry or blueberry jam I’m astonished that I can produce something so practical, delicious, and beautiful. I leave the newly filled pint jars out for days, admiring my handiwork. (And reminding my family to, as well.) I do have some advice for you. Don’t take the dog berry picking. Or at least don’t take my big old retriever Forte. He eats berries like a hungry black bear right off the bushes, and if I am not paying attention will root them right out of my pail. Also, buy one of those wide plastic funnels for pouring the boiling goo into the jars. They keep it from running over onto the counter and oozing into, say, the silverware drawer. Don’t ask how I know that.
Bill Smith has served as chef at Crook’s Corner in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, for more than a decade. His essays have been featured in newspapers and on radio and television, and his recipes have been selected for 150 Best American Recipes and Food & Wine magazine’s “Best of the Best.” He’s best known for putting a fresh twist on classic Southern dishes. Whether it’s shrimp and grits, collard greens, or lemon pie, he’s making it right–and making it better.
Today, we have a video of Smith as he forages for honeysuckle for one of his signature desserts: Honeysuckle Sorbet.
Honeysuckle Sorbet
Makes about 2 quarts
4 cups (tightly packed but not smashed) honeysuckle flowers, leaves and stems discarded 5 1/3 cups cool water 1 1/3 cups water 2 cups sugar Few drops of freshly squeezed lemon juice Speck of cinnamon
Place the flowers in a nonreactive container (glass or stainless steel) and cover with the cool water. Weight down with a plate. Let stand on the counter overnight.
In a small saucepan, make a syrup out of the sugar and the water by boiling it until all the sugar is dissolved and it begins to look lustrous and slightly thick, 3-5 minutes. Add a few drops of lemon juice to prevent the sugar from recrystallizing. Cool the syrup completely. Strain the honeysuckle infusion, gently pressing the blossoms so as not to waste any of your previous efforts. Combine the two liquids and add the merest dusting of cinnamon. You don’t want to taste it, but you can tell if it’s not there. I use the tip of a sharp boning knife to measure it. Churn in an ice-cream maker. This does not keep for more than a week or two.
Adopted when she was a baby, Mei-Ling Hopgood grew up in the Midwest and was never really curious about her Asian roots. Then one day, when she was in her twenties, her birth family finally came calling–on the phone, on the computer, by fax–in a language she didn’t understand. The Wangs wanted her to return home. But this unexpected reunion had a price; she uncovered secrets that haunt them to this day. Delving into Chinese culture and tradition, Hopgood tells a tale of love, frustration, hilarity, deep sadness, and great discovery as she comes to understand the true meaning of family.
Today we’re launching the revised and expanded edition of Stephen Goodwin’s Dream Golf: The Making of Bandon Dunes. What was originally an exploration of the genius behind the British-style links built on the Oregon coast, is now supplemented by the story behind a new course, Old Macdonald, and the designer’s return to the rugged roots of golf.
On his BLOG he writes about Dream Golf and about Old Macdonald, the course that is the subject of the new material in the book. Read the first chapter of Dream Golf below!
@JenHoward Trash Can Sinatras! "Even the Odd Man Out" is one of my fave songs. 11 hours ago
RT @WeBeReading Check out my review of the @algonquinbooks new release: Barnacle Love http://goo.gl/b/XYb5, a story of immigration. 11 hours ago
RT @Nancy_Pearl Gr8t cover on EXLEY (tho can't judge it by that); what's really terrif:moving mix of sadness&humor&voice of 9-yr-old Miller. 14 hours ago
Recipe for Planter's Punch--it's not just for breakfast anymore http://tinyurl.com/3x48pvf 15 hours ago
What was your first reading? Tell us and win an Algonquin book of your choice http://tinyurl.com/2bep49l 15 hours ago
No, not THAT kind of jam session. We’re talking about berry jam. Fresh-picked, home-made, sticky summer jam. Today, we have an excerpt about jamming from 
