When everyone has an opinion on a secret

A little while back I came across a post on Gawker about another secret bar location in the city. This one with some kind of creepy two-way mirror screening built into the entrance process. The info came via Jossip, which in turn was via Urban Daddy, but I stuck with the third-hand Gawker post to see what commentary the denizens of Gawker had to serve up.

I wasn't disappointed at all and dissolved into discreet office giggles when several comments ended up referencing the Konami Code and Super Mario Bros. 3. The general tone of these jokes seemed to indicate that the great lengths taken by this particular establishment was just plain ridiculous. One commenter, Grumpy McGillicutty, expressed the opinion that "The patrons are there to buy booze, and the bar is there to make money by selling them booze. The patrons are not there to supplicate and petition the bar for the privilege of supporting their business endeavor."

I'm personally more laissez-faire about the whole thing. I figure that with cocktails and beverages gaining as much spotlight as food, the bar and lounge business shouldn't be treated all that differently from the restaurant business. Especially in a saturated and diverse market like New York, it's not surprising to see how it makes sense to try and differentiate from the competition. So you're not a $1 PBR kind of place. Go get on with your bad self whatever your concept might be. In the end, the market would determine what works or not. Not that I'm particularly politically or economically minded. I guess it's just that the combined experiences of sitting in front of a bar as well as talking to those behind it has me easily playing point/counterpoint about the subject of secret bars and "speakeasies" whenever it comes up.

On the consumer side of things, it's not that hard to see that exclusivity can breed contempt. Whether the negative reaction is "Well, I didn't want to drink in your fancy pants bar anyway," or "This is too much trouble just to get a drink," the pitfall for secret bar operators is that smoke and mirrors can easily cloud the public opinion of an establishment regardless of the operators' intentions.

My friend Kate messaged me a little while back about a question that popped up on the question-and-answer portion of the community blog Metafilter. A user wanted to know how he could gain access to some secret bars in New York.

But Kate didn't message me to ask me help this particular user; her reasons were entirely more Bolshevik. "Give me the number so I can put it all over the internet and ruin their lives. Mwa ha ha."

A chunk of her beef with the place came from reading about about Milk and Honey from the viewpoint of several customer/reviewers online. Her message continued:

"Seriously, I'm reading on Yelp and it's all these douches being like, 'Oh yes, I got the number somehow, but no, boo, you don't get the number, unwashed masses.' Boooo."

I went over to Yelp to see what some of the reviewers had to say about the place.

Some of the reviews were straightforward accounts of visiting Milk and Honey, but then I'd find myself slightly cringing when I'd come across some variation of "But, yea, don't ask me for the number, nyah," or some manner of slight bragging about the well-heeled friend that got them in or how they're tight with such-and-such a bartender would pop up. I wanted to say to my flickering computer screen, "Look, we ALL know it's secret. That's kind of the point. I really don't see how mentioning that you enjoy hanging out with other M&H members or your magical dinner at Babbo beforehand is worth two figs to anyone else besides saying 'I'm this sort of person.' And stop complaining about people bugging you for the number. I have no sympathy for you. Maybe you should have thought a bit more about that before relating to the general public that you are in possession of said hot commodity."

Some might level charges of gimmickery at the place or some would say the entire experience is worth it for a handcrafted cocktail somewhere that wasn't a loud and crowded bar scene, but it wasn't too hard to see how a few rotten apples of asshattery could turn people off. Some were too wrapped up in rapt descriptions, that it made you doubt if their review really was for the benefit of others or if they just wanted to pat themselves on the back for having visited the place.

Say that one finds the crapshoot of whether or not you get a number an attempt to level the playing field in a city where too many times you don't get behind the velvet rope unless you're judged on looks or whether or not you can afford a table. And even say that Sasha Petraske's rules make sense to you since it helps to get away from that meat market-like atmosphere where you're no one unless you know someone and women aren't just there as props to be ogled at or bothered. Even so, unfortunately, customer behavior outside of the bar is something that all the changing numbers and rules in the universe can't do anything about.

Another anecdote: On a typical busy night in Crif Dogs eating my hot dog and chili cheese fries with some friends, I watched several sets of customers sitting around us whisper about the phone booth leading to PDT.

"You ever been in there?" I heard one ask only to be answered in the negative by his companion.

One emissary from another group of diners was goaded by his friends to try and see if they could get in to PDT "just to see what it's like" only to be rebuffed at the phone booth since, unsurprisingly, the place was filled to seating capacity. When a group showed up later and got through the phone booth (probably a table reservation), I overheard one of the rebuffed comment, "I guess they try to, like, keep a balance between girls and guys or something?"

It was so wrong an assessment that I almost stood up to go over and explain things to them, but sure *I* knew that the place took table reservations and really, there's no such thing as a secret handshake to getting into the place than being there when there's a seat, but for someone who only knows the reputation of "secret," what did it matter?

I couldn't oblige Kate's request to help her in her revolution against Milk and Honey, but instead I asked, "Do you want to go to Milk and Honey with me?" Considering my own spinelessly lackadaisical opinion about the whole affair I needed a reaction to the joint from a different perspective.

So Kate, her boyfriend Marc and I found ourselves crammed into a little booth on a Thursday night.

The first general topic of discussion was that the place was smaller than expected. Kate nodded and said that she supposed reservations really kind of were necessary for a place that size. It's not hard to find a bit of crowd control in some of New York's cocktail lounges. It's not hard to understand why either. There are bars, not secret even, that do not allow standing customers. Not so secret spots such as Death and Company and Hotel Delmano do it. In a way, the secret number is a type of crowd control. Though, yea, there's an added twist that if you can't really figure out a way to get the number, you're pretty SOL. Marc had to surrender his ever-present hat, but he said he did think the rules regarding how ladies were to be approached was pretty neat. There were no complaints whatsoever on the drinks front.

On a final note, I've always felt weird describing some places secret bars or speakeasies. They always seemed like just bars and lounges to me with varying levels of difficulty in regards to entrance. Like how with some restaurants, it's just impossible to get a reservation? To the army brat in me it seemed more like a system of like how classified government documents work. You got you Unclassifieds, you got your Confidentials, maybe even a Top Secret*. And like the Freedom of Information Act, you're always more than welcome to submit a request for what you want, but don't be surprised if it comes back inked up with black markers.

In the end, Kate was still annoyed by what she deemed the frippery of having an unlisted number as well as the idea of $15 drinks. However, she did enjoy her drink. Part of me wonders if Sasha Petraske would rather hear someone say that the place might not be exactly their cup of tea, but they still honestly enjoyed their cocktail or would he rather have a mountain of praise full of preening for a bar where rule number one is, "No name-dropping. No star f***ing."

*One time when I was 13 and was accidentally given some classified documents to handle while running errands at my summer job with the U.S. Army. I almost pooped a brick when I opened my messenger suitcase and saw the carmine bordered cover sheet with "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped ominously across it. The response from the commanding officer of the office I worked at was, "Oh, you weren't supposed to get that. Go ahead and go shred it." Fine, Confidential is the lowest level, but I didn't even attempt to sneak a peek for fear that MPs would come bursting in and drag me off somewhere to interrogate me about breach of security.

New menu at Death & Company

June 29
After four months of gestation, the staff over at Death and Co. debuted their new baby on Friday.

Seventy-four drinks. 74. More like 64 brand spankin' new ones if you don't count some drinks that are from the old menu (like the Oaxacan Old Fashioned). I saw that Joaquin Simo's Carroll Gardens (rye whiskey, Amaro, dry vermouth, maraschino liqueur) was one of the newcomers, though I wasn't unfamiliar with it. I had given it a try back when Charles Vexenat was in town.

So where to even begin? Damon Dyer and Alex Day both had looks in their eyes that practically glinted with the excitement at the prospect of showing off the new drinks as I kept flipping back and forth through the menu.

The first thing you notice about the new menu is that it's a whole lot less unwieldy compared to the long and narrow predecessor. More like a neat little square photo album, the menu doesn't take up too much space on the bar. The pages are easy to remove and replace so menu updates are no longer cumbersome.

"Muddled Mission," I finally stated, picking a drink from the gin category (gin, elderflower liqueur, muddled strawberry, yellow chartreuse, fresh lemon juice).

"Come on, that's like the first thing on the menu," Alex protested.

"I know, I know! I'm just trying to get a start here," I answered defensively.

The drinks are organized into neat sections organized by drink type or spirit type.

"Did you notice the images?" Alex asked.

"I saw them, yes...why, is there something else going on? There's not a test in the back is there?"

Not really, but kind of. More on that later.

The art accompanying the menu do more than just look pretty, they help guide customers through what they might want to drink. Once you decide what spirit you want, if you need anymore help, the drawings indicate which drinks are stirred and which are shaken.

So to make a long story short the menu is there to help customers navigate the menu and determine what kind of drink one might like to enjoy.

Coming back to the test aspect. If anything, I suppose I'm young enough that the new menu layout uncomfortably reminded me of the verbal section on the SATs. If you want to relive the nail-biting days of yore, just flip to the back and there's a multiple choice section...except, surprise! It's about booze. It was like one of those dreams you had when you were in school where it starts out all freaky. Like, you have a final you didn't study for, but then a wave of relief washes over you because you realize the final is something you could totally ace because it's an opinion essay asking you to defend your choice of favorite pizza topping or something.

The last page is not really a test so much as it was a Choose Your Own Adventure drink page. Different drinks were listed with a list of a final spirit element you could choose.

I also tried a Spicy Paloma (jalapeño-infused tequila, fresh grapefruit and lime juice and salted rim), a lips and throat-tingling version of a Paloma. A Paloma usually registers as refreshing with a bright bite to it and a little I don't know what savory side from the bit of salt, but the jalapeño seemed to pull it down into the savory region even more. It's not something you'd want to pound back.

I couldn't stay for more drinks because I got wind of the new menu just a couple of hours prior and had already made plans to be in Queens so I had to end with a third. The Doc Daneeka Royale (Champagne, gin, maple syrup, fresh lemon juice and grapefruit twist).

As I was leaving I told Damon, "You guys can't sneak up a new menu on me like this."

"I'm the one who has to memorize 74 new drinks," he answered.

I asked him how he even went about beginning to do that. "Do you just go through making each drink on the list or something?"

Damon answered that he makes flashcards with the drink names on one side and recipes on the other.

I was less distressed this time and more amused at yet another reminder of my SAT studying days.

Absinthe sipping at La Fée's U.S. launch party

June 23

It seemed like La Fée really wanted to tie the image of their product to its history as being a muse for artists. The space rented for the event was a sort of all-purpose space billed for use as gallery and sometimes fashion show setting. Emerald green bottles of absinthe as well minty colored prepared versions of it stood out against the stark white setting of the place. Everything was white, the tables, chairs, linen. Except for one brightly-colored sofa that looked highly embarrassed that no one informed it that this would be a white-outfit party, the entire place was as white as a canvas with a fresh coat of gesso.

Even George Rowley, managing director of La Fée, seemed dressed for the space in a light suit with pastel colors reminiscent of sorbet.

George visited our offices last Friday to talk about the product and one of the things about the appeal of absinthe in today's market is that even with all the stories of the drink's naughtiness, it has actual historical and cultural significance and was the drink of choice for numerous artists. The brand seems to be very keen on emphasizing that particular aspect of the drink through a pretty image conscious way of marketing the product and sets it aside from other products on the market. Though La Fée produces several varieties of absinthe, from a "Bohemian" that's more of a Czech style as well as premium wine-based versions, the brand at the moment is only making La Fee's Absinthe Parisienne available in United States market to not dilute the image. The flagship product is modeled to be more like the traditional French absinthe with its beet-based neutral spirits that was formulated and approved by absinthe historian and author Marie-Claude Delahaye of Musée de l'Absinthe in France. The bottles also come with an absinthe spoon to help consumers enjoy it the way it was back in its heyday without being intimidated by the idea of not having all the necessary props. And, hey, free spoon.

The event really got into this artist imagery with five canvasses hung around the main area of the space at the event. Four of them depicted minimalist image and text related to an artist who partook of absinthe. A pedestal in front of these canvasses held the physical item depicted on the canvass giving the whole thing an even more of an installation feel. For example, one canvas showed a broken teacup, with text saying Van Gogh drank absinthe from a broken teacup. The pedestal in front of the canvas held a broken teacup. Later in the evening the canvasses got raffled off. For a second I kind of wanted one. Then I realized I don't know why I wanted one besides the fact they were offering it and raffles get me all excited. I also realized that if I really did win a canvas, I'd have to schlep it home somehow and my desire to win quickly dissipated.


On my way to this event, I took a right and Spring and as I was walking down Mulberry when I bumped into Leo DeGroff (Contemporary Cocktails) and his girlfriend Kaye Rabuy, and Pegu Club's Kenta Goto. They were on their way to the event as well and were coming from the NY Bar Show. I'd entirely forgotten that. Well, "forget" is incorrect. I was thinking about attending it, but noticed that the times and dates for the events and seminars I wanted to attend weren't working out with my schedule and I sort of put the whole thing out of my mind.

The main "art gallery" section had some tables serving up La Fée absinthe in the traditional manner, with water and sugar. They even had some absinthe fountains set up.

I said hello to Tony Abou-Ganim, then made my way into the adjoining room where the food was coming from. There were some tables and chairs set up and Damon Dyer (who mixes at Death and Co. and Flatiron Lounge) and Jonathan Pogash (The Cocktail Guru) were making Sazeracs (La Fée Absinthe Parisienne, sugar cube/granulated sugar, Peychuad's bitters, cognac), La Fée Sours (absinthe, fresh lemon juice, sugar, egg white), and Sea Foam Fizzes (absinthe, lemon juice, sugar, egg white and a touch of soda on top).

I even finally met Dave Kaplan, owner of Death and Co., putting a face to the voice.

Tad Carducci and Paul Tanguay (of the drink consulting firm The Tippling Bros.) were also present. And since we're on the topic of absinthe, the recently opened Apothecary Lounge in Philadelphia, where The Tippling Bros. consulted, has an elaborate absinthe fountain on premises.

Sometimes depending on the location (and slightly depending on the product), you can guess what the crowd will be like. I figured the Soho location would lend it to some hip persons making appearances, but I was also anticipating it to be a mish-mash of cool types and I was pretty on the money. I saw some very young ladies running around in Olsen twins' gear (large over-sized flannel shirt, shorts, huge plastic rim sunglasses) as well as a whole gaggle of leggy blondes in jewel-toned variations of shiny baby doll dresses. There were some music industry types. At one point you might find yourself talking to a dude in a crisp suit only to turn around and say "excuse me" to a guy in jeans and a graphic t-shirt.

It was one of those parties where you wander in and half the faces you recognize or you just feel like you might. Though honestly, there were several people there who just had "that face." You know, the kind where you could swear he was the guy who was in that thing about this thing, but you're not sure? Over the course of the evening, several times, from different persons (including myself), the refrain "Hey, that dude over there looks familiar," was repeated.

Also I really wanted the green lobster they had sitting on the pedestal for the Dali-themed canvas. Yea, no dice on that.

Yuji Matsumoto: Sake sommelier for Kabuki Japanese Restaurant

In May, Kabuki Japanese Restaurant, the Japanese restaurant chain with 13 locations in California and Arizona, welcomed Yuji Matstumoto as their new sake sommelier. Matsumoto's duties will also include expanding and maintaining a beverage list of cocktails and wines for Kabuki.

Matsumoto received his certification from the Sake Service Institute in Japan. He previously had his own small sushi restaurant, worked as sake and beverage manager with Tokyo Table. He also served as President of the California Sushi Academy, and was one of three U.S. representatives to compete in the 2nd World Sake Sommelier Competition in Tokyo. Kabuki's CEO and owner David Lee drafted Matsumoto to help increase the sale of beverages, particularly sake and cocktails.

"I try to use Japanese or Asian ingredients such as yuzu," Matsumoto said about creating cocktails for a Japanese restaurant. "Also in terms of alcohol I like to use soju and sake mainly."

The emphasis is to create mild and refreshing tastes that can go with delicate flavors present in Japanese cuisine.

For example, Matsumoto developed several new cocktails of Saketinis and Tokyo Mojitos with light, fruit flavors. The former comes in flavors of creamy peach, lychee and yuzu. The latter, a — "Tokyo-style Mojioto" made with sake and soju — comes in cucumber, greapefruit and lychee flavors.

Matsumoto also created a line of vodka sodas using sodas flavored with lychee, mango and pomegranate.

Matsumoto said he was slowly working on the wine list for Kabuki once he finishes training the staff a bit more.

"Wine tends to have more body and acidity so sometimes wine overpowers food, but nowadays there are a lot of fusion foods...you can see in the menu that we've been using a lot of spice and mayonnaise [in our foods]. So we probably won't have a lot of the heavy full-bodied wines, but more of the light refreshing wines can be very good."

When asked about consumer knowledge about sake, Matsumoto answered, "I think it’s getting better compared to five, six years ago. Some still have wrong information about sake. They think it should be served hot or all premium should be chilled, but people are getting more interested in sake. Whenever I do pairings, they’re pleased and surprised by the aroma, variety and taste."

He added that "people who have knowledge about wine, they really understand the procedure and tastes" when it comes to introducing different varieties of sake.

Currently Kabuki offers a sake sampler both for the happy hour and on the regular menu so that customers can try several varieties.

Kabuki's sake menu offers a wide range sake varieties as well as those not made in Japan.

"American sake tends to have more acidity and texture because the water used is here is hard water, where in Japan it's mostly soft water," Matsumoto commented about the difference between Japanese sake and its brethren created on this side of the hemisphere. "The rice they use...is not perfect sake rice, though it still has a good quality."

Matsumoto said that the less subtle qualities of Californian sake works better with non-traditional Japanese food, recalling, "When I did a pairing with Mexican food and sake, none of the Japanese sake was a good match."

A press release from Kabuki stated that Matsumoto "will continue to offer sake tastings and educational classes in the community, and tied-in with Kabuki’s menu. Additionally, sake lovers can keep an eye out for a blog by Matsumoto on deliciously paired sake and food combinations and other sake notes."

Clover Club soft opening

June 17
Edit: Now with downloadable menu goodness. (Click here)

I hopped off the F train at Bergen in Brooklyn and found myself strolling down Smith St. yet again. The last time was for the Jakewalk event, this time I was going to check out Julie Reiner's new joint the Clover Club.

While I was busy taking pictures of the storefront, I spotted Bon Appetit restaurant editor Andrew Knowlton and Imbibe author, Esquire contributing editor and all-around very knowledgeable about cocktails person Dave Wondrich enter. I realized I probably should actually go in the place.

The space does this thing where it gets more complicated and ornate the further you go in. The entire storefront is paned glass, but when you first enter there's maybe 2-3 tables, a hostess stand and the floor is a simple two-toned mosaic/tiled affair. It almost feels like you're sitting outside or in some brightly open atrium.

Once you start heading towards the back, the floor transitions over to hardwood. Then there are leather banquettes and the bar itself is large, old-fashioned and superbly fancy. I was impressed by the generous size of the bar stools' circumferences. Lo have there been many a times where I felt as though one wrong move would have me sliding off the edge of a stool.

Then there was the drawing room type area in the back separated from the front half of the bar with curtains. It looked like it was taken straight out of Wodehouse story. You could imagine the likes of Bertie Wooster, Rupert Psmith or any of the other character who are members of the Drones Club lounging about lazily. The back room had its own fancy, fully-stocked bar, but what really threw me off was the real fire roaring in the fireplace. I wasn't expecting to see one of those in the middle of June.

There have been several soft openings and Julie informed me that the one I was attending was the third one. From what I heard elsewhere, this one was supposed to be mostly media. As if to confirm that, I saw furtive dashes into notebooks hidden under tables, on laps and under purses throughout the evening. My note taking was as obvious as a Mack truck barreling down a park's bike lane. I always feel weird conspicuously taking notes but then I remember it's not like I'm a reviewer who nees to stay incognito. On top of that there are very few places on your person that you can hide a standard-sized reporter's notebook comfortably, and there was no way I was going to juggle drinks while reaching in and out of my bag every couple of seconds.

Clover Club's head bartender Giuseppe Gonzalez handed me my first drink, the Bermuda Rum Swizzle. It was dangerously delectable. Crushed ice always worries me because it makes me think "never-ending drink," but I managed to drink it fast enough that no such thing happened. Let's just say I was very parched.

The second drink was the Clover Club's signature cocktail, the Clover Club: Plymouth Gin, fresh raspberry juice and fresh lemon juice, dry vermouth and egg whites. After that was some punch served up in a huge punchbowl with teacups that included Pimm's Cup, Beefeater Gin, cucumber and strawberries among other things, a New York Sour (made with bourbon, fresh lemon juice, simple syrup, and some claret floated on top), and a Tequila Daisy (tequila, fresh lime juice, Cointreau, simple syrup).

Toasting the masters of French cuisine

June 16
The honest-to-goodness truth is I did not have even an inkling that Crème de la Crème was taking place until Don Lee called me at 10:48 am. Sleep-deprived, in the throes of wrestling with HTML coding and just not being much of a morning person in general, it took me a while to process what was going on.

Don said he was calling because he misplaced my email address. I thought for a second through the fog and asked, "Oh, so, like...do you want me to give it to you?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you about the cocktail that we're making for the Citymeals-on-Wheels charity event."

"...Oh, when is that?" I asked groggily.

"Tonight."

"..."

So I got myself on the list at the last minute to attend the event. I was also feeling mighty self-conscious about how I was dressed since I wasn't expecting to go to some fancy event up until a mere six hours ago.

The event was held to benefit Citymeals-on-Wheels, an organization that provides meals for homebound elderly New Yorkers on the weekend since government programs cover meals on weekdays. And they also provide meals for holidays.

It was fitting that an organization that provides meals with such deep ties to the restaurant community (Gael Greene and James Beard co-founded the organization) would raise funds through an event that honors culinary legends.

The forecast threatened rain and the organizers of Crème de la Crème were giving attendees warnings about said storm. I thought it was supposed to be one of those "We forecast rain later in the day, but we totally mean, like 9 or 10 pm" type of forecasts, but dark clouds rolled over the sky ominously as I entered 30 Rockefeller Plaza.

Heading down to the garden area (the part that you skate in when it's winter), I was assaulted by the smell of food. Everywhere. I was bewildered and not sure where to go and what to do until I bumped into the Plymouth Gin booth that was located conveniently in my meandering path. I was offered a gin and tonic made with Plymouth gin and Q Tonic Water. I took one and downed it quickly to help me get my wits about me.

While I was there I asked Jamie Gordon with the Absolut Spirits Company (Plymouth is owned by Swedish company V&S Group that also makes Absolut) how things were going with the sloe gin. "Oh, dear," he answered.

Unfortunately, there seems to be some hiccups with distribution, but response and demand have been great stateside. All 2000 cases allocated for the United States have been spoken for and Plymouth is gearing up to try and brew up some more for the U.S. for next year.

I wove my way between people to the bar station where I grabbed the Le Croissmo from Don and John who were representing PDT. It tasted exactly like I thought it would. The fruity berry center of a berry-filled croissant...with alcohol.

I did a double-take because I was pretty sure Kathleen Turner brushed past me to grab a Sidecar from Chad Solomon and Christy Pope from Cuffs and Buttons, a cocktail catering outfit.

Pegu Club showcased the French Pearl, which is also on their menu. Eben Klemm of B.R. Guest served up a TGV, a super light floral cocktail made with Plymouth gin, St. Germain elderflower liqueur, Sauternes and some lavender foam. Little Branch served up Fine and Dandies (Plymouth Gin, Cointreau, angostura bitters). And Mr. Eben Freeman from Tailor came up with a Cointreau Creme Orange for the occasion.

Right after trying out the Le Croissmo, I wandered over to the other end of the bar to say hi to Mr. Eben Freeman. Just then the skies decided to open up and the rain began to pelt the plastic and tarp protecting us.

Over the sound of rain violently hitting protective covers and the house band, Eben said that he at first wanted to serve the Creme Orange out of a keg, but that idea didn't work out too well and he instead was pouring topping the drink off with soda.

I asked what a cubeb was and Eben said it was type of pepper. You learn something new everyday. He had steeped the cubeb in hot water with vanilla and licorice and the result was a spicy, bite-y cream soda cocktail. It was like a very adult soda shop drink.

But then Eben asked me with great concern if I had had any of the food. I admitted I went straight to the drinks. He pressed upon me that I really, REALLY needed to eat the food at this event.

This was serious business. I gave my liver a breather and dove back into the crowds to sample some of the cuisine. From now on its stream-of-consciousnesses and what stood out from the things I sampled. At the Charleston Grill station I grabbed a "Crepinette de Pigeon, Sauce au Truffe de Bourgogne" (squab sausage with truffle sauce) that melted in my mouth. Bob Waggoner also served seared veal sweetbreads over Granny Smith Vidalia Compote in Xeres Reduction. I won't lie. I love sweetbreads.

City Hall had Alsatian onion tart, which I thought was intriguing. I haven't really eaten a lot of vegetable tarts and I found myself enjoying it. They also had a brandade made of salted cod served with 24-hour tomato. I kind of thought the "24-hour" bit was just a name for some fancy-pants technique, but I was assured the tomato was really simmered for 24 hours to create a paste.

The seared American Piedmontese beef loin with wild leek potatoes and morels served by chef Larry Forgione of An American Place made me with I could have like a big old plate of the stuff.

I didn't even get to try whatever it was that Jean-Georges Vongerichten had going on because his table was mobbed and by the time I came back to see if the crowd had dissipated a bit, it was all gone.

I chowed down with gusto at Tom Colicchio's Craft Restaurant station on duck pastrami with pickled red cabbage and sweet mustard and braised pork butt with smoked onions and tomato molasses.

As I stuffed my face with pork butt two or three feet away from the station I overheard to young ladies debating whether or not to get an autograph. I turned back to the station and noticed Tom Colicchio had materialized while my back was turned and was doing an interview (he wasn't there when I was there). I'm going to admit in this space that whenever I see Tom Colicchio in person, I always find him intimidating. And again I found myself washed over with nervousness. He just has this really intense aura, man. Also, I've only talked to him once, very briefly in an introductory sense a long time ago, and a small part of me swears up and down that he found me annoying at that encounter and to this day my neurotic brain thinks that somehow he still remembers me and remembers me as annoying.

Other famous faces I recognized all on my own were Gael Green, Todd English, Charlie Palmer and Drew Nieporent. I felt proud of myself. I was getting better at this.

Both Don Lee and Eben Freeman told me to stop by Rogue Ale and Spirits' table to try the Spruce Gin and Hazelnut Spice Rum when I had a chance. Chris from Rogue informed me that the two spirits were released in the New York market just three weeks ago.

The spruce gin had cucumber in it too. It had that slow gin burn as it rolled down my neck, but was intensely floral even with the Christmas tree-esque spruce scent, which I wasn't expecting. The hazelnut rum almost tasted like chocolate.

Chris then poured me a mixture of Rogue's Chipotle Ale and Chocolate Stout.

"It's like some kind of Mayan/Mexican chocolate beer!" I exclaimed.

I went back to the bar station to hang out a bit. Finished drinking some more of the cocktails, and stuck around when the chefs and everyone were called up to the stage.

I asked NRN's national reports editor Milford Prewitt, who I bumped into through out the evening along with our executive food editor Pam Parseghian, how long the event was going. When he answered that the dancing probably would be until midnight, I thought now would be a good time to throw in my hat.

Bartenders also paying tribute at Crème de la Crème

The Citymeals-on-Wheels Crème de la Crème is a charity event where guests come to sample fare created by star chefs as a tribute to food legends. For those of you attending the event tonight at Rockefeller Center, it looks like that some cocktail legends will get tribute as well.

Don Lee of PDT called me early this morning to tell me about his tribute I got a call from Don Lee early this morning saying that his tribute to Dale DeGroff and Toby Cecchini is going to be a pastry versino of a Cosmopolitan. Yes, "Le Croissmo" if you will. The Cosmo was the drink of choice, since "Dale and Toby popularized the Cosmo even before 'Sex and the City,'" Don explained.

It's made with Stolichnaya's blackberry flavored vodka, a croissant and brown butter-infused vodka, fresh lemon juice, simple syrup and creme de cassis.

More on Citymeals-on-Wheels Crème de la Crème later.