Champagne and Pearls
• November 3, 2011

Maybe I should have paid more attention in science class. Chemistry sets, atoms, experiments — these projects tended to bore me when all I could think about was where I was going out Friday night.
But after attending a recent cocktail event sponsored by Cointreau, my interest in science was piqued — mainly because they found a way to combine chemistry and clubbing. It’s called molecular mixology and involves using science to turn a liquid alcohol into a solid. Looking back, if alcohol had been part of my lab days in chem class I would have shown up more often, at least for the samples.
Cointreau experts and Fernando Casellon, a well-known mixologist, harnessed their expertise to turn liquid Cointreau into solid droplets (dubbed Cointreau Pearls). These pearls are created through a scientific molecular mycology process called spherification.

Cointreau hosted a “How are they made” demonstration worthy of the Discovery channel at the newly redesigned St. Regis Hotel bar.

Upon my arrival I was introduced to mixologist Erin Williams, who was busy at work with a stack of lab equipment on the bar. Williams appeared more like a CSI character than bartender as she worked on creating a batch of pearls.

The equipment is part of a highly specialized tool kit provided by Cointreau that includes beakers, a magnetic agitator, syringes, jars of chemicals and the best part: liquor. The St. Regis is the only bar in Washington with this exclusive kit.

On one side of the bar, Erin had had a beaker filled with Cointreau and gold flakes. The edible gold pieces were added to give the finished pearls a glittery appearance. Meanwhile, on the other side of the bar, Erin meticulously mixed another beaker filled with a calcite bath made with Fuji water and a special “sphere gel.”

The actual pearls were formed when Erin dropped the Cointreau mixture, using a syringe, into the calcium solution. The droplets gently formed into tiny solid bubbles that glistened with an orange and golden hue.

I tasted a few of the jellified balls on their own. They had a consistency somewhere between caviar and gummy bears that burst open with an orange rush when bitten.

Next I enjoyed them served with Piper Heidsieck Champagne. The delicate orange spheres danced subtly in the glass along with the Champagne bubbles. The delicate texture of the pearls melded nicely with the crisp sparkling wine.

Cointreau pearls can be customized by bartenders and infused with other flavors. Fruits, herbs, and/or spices simply need to be mixed with the Cointreau before it’s dropped into the calcium bath.

In addition to the Champagne and pearls, two other pearly drinks are featured on the St. Regis’ cocktail menu. The Aphrodite’s Pearl is made with Cointreau pearls infused with cardamom, ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon, combined with a white wine fortified with tropical fruits and liqueurs. The Acai of Spring features pearls infused with acai berries, cherry-acai vodka and Piper-Heidsieck rose Champagne.

The cocktails were delicious, the overall demonstration entertaining, and I think I actually gained a bit of scientific knowledge. Who knew that drinking could be so educational?

Readers may try Cointreau pearl cocktails at the St. Regis Hotel, located at 923 16th St. Cointreau may be purchased at Dixie Liquor (3429 M St.) in Georgetown.

A Spot of Irish Coffee
•

Mark Twain once said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” With its damp air and piercing Pacific wind, the City by the Bay can be nippy year-round. I recall a late-summer visit where the wind was whipping at my tail as I strolled along Fisherman’s Wharf after dinner.

Fortunately, a perfect remedy lurked nearby. The Buena Vista Cafe, which is known worldwide for their steaming cups of Irish coffee, was only few blocks up one of the city’s famous hills. As I trudged up the steep incline, the Buena Vista’s red neon sign served as a beacon signaling relief from the cold. The long and narrow bar draws devoted locals as well as out-of-towners relaxing after a day of sightseeing.

Watching the staff at the Buena Vista make the Irish coffees is a spectacle in itself. When the small cafe gets crowded, the bartenders line glass mugs up and down the tapered bar assembly-line style. Methodically, the staff pours blazing hot coffee into the waiting mugs, followed by sugar cubes and jiggers of Irish whiskey. Finally the toddies are topped with generous dollops of whipped cream before being served to eager customers waiting to warm their souls with steaming goodness.

Some mistakenly believe that the Buena Vista invented the Irish coffee. According to the Museum of the American Cocktail, Irish coffee was invented in 1942 by Joseph Sheridean, the head chef at Foynes Airbase in Limerick (now Shannon Airport), as a way to provide a warming beverage to cold and weary travelers.

According to the bar’s Web site (www.thebuenavista.com), on the night of November 10, 1952 Jack Koeppler, then-owner of the Buena Vista, challenged international travel writer Stanton Delaplane to help re-create the highly touted Irish coffee served at Shannon Airport. Intrigued, Stan accepted Jack’s invitation, and the pair began to experiment.

Throughout the night they stirred and sipped judiciously and eventually acknowledged two recurring problems. The taste was “not quite right,” and the cream would not float. Jack pursued the elusive elixir with religious fervor, even making a pilgrimage overseas to Ireland.

Upon Jack’s return, the experimentation continued. Finally, the perfect-tasting Irish whiskey was selected. Then the problem of the bottom-bent cream was taken to San Francisco’s mayor, a prominent dairy owner. It was discovered that when the cream was aged for 48 hours and frothed to a precise consistency, it would float on the surface.

Soon the fame of the Buena Vista’s Irish coffee spread. According to a Frommer’s guidebook, the bar has poured more of these addictive pick-me-up drinks than any other bar in the world, and ordering one has become a San Francisco must-do.

Irish Coffee

The Buena Vista’s Web site offers step-by-step instructions on how they make their Irish coffee.

1. Fill glass with very hot water to pre-heat, then empty.
2. Pour hot coffee into hot glass until it is about three-quarters full. Drop in two cocktail sugar cubes.
3. Stir until the sugar is thoroughly dissolved.
4. Add full jigger of Irish whiskey for proper taste and body.
5. Top with a collar of lightly whipped whipping cream by pouring gently over a spoon.
A selection of Irish whiskeys may be purchased at Dixie Liquor, located at 3429 M Street in Georgetown.

Pina Colada: African Style
•

The piña colada is a well-known tropical drink. The sheer mention of it conjures up images of beach bars and tiny cocktail umbrellas. While the drink’s origins hail from Puerto Rico, this festive libation is a staple at vacation spots around the globe.

Recently while on holiday in Ghana, my interest was piqued by a sign at my beachfront retreat that boasted the “Best Piña Colada this Side of the Equator.” The sprawling complex, dubbed Big Milly’s Backyard, was a laid-back place filled with friendly locals and mellow Rastafarians. Small bungalows and huts were dispersed through out the palm-shaded grounds dotted with an oceanfront restaurant and 24-hour open-air bar which featured live reggae and African drumming shows.

One afternoon as the scorching sun baked everyone at the beach, I decided to test Big Milly’s cocktail claims. Paajoe Quansah, a helpful young man who seemed to be a jack-of-all-trades around the complex, volunteered to mix a piña colada for me.

He started off by taking off his shoes and leaving the bar. Puzzled, I followed him a short distance to a towering palm tree, which he proceeded to climb. I strained my neck to look up as he scampered to dizzying heights where the coconuts grew and dropped several of them to the ground. I was in awe — this was going to be one mighty fresh piña colada!

Once he safely made it back to ground level, he split the coconuts open with a machete. First he expertly carved a spout and poured out the juice, which he shared with two eager young local children that suddenly appeared nearby. Next he used a knife to scrape the meat from the coconut and added it to the water. After repeating the process with about four coconuts, he combined the coconut meat and water in a blender to make a thick and frothy mixture.

Once the fresh coconut puree was prepared, Paajoe began to build my cocktail. He added two shots of African rum to the liquid coconut. He topped it off with a generous splash of Big Milly’s freshly squeezed pineapple juice, which on its own was a popular refresher at the bar. The finished cocktail was served over ice.

Its flavor was bright and fresh and not overly sweet. It stood as a stark contrast to the sickly sweet frozen piña coladas made with commercially prepared mixes. However the generous portions of local rum did provide a noticeable burn.

After two of these elixirs, the sun seemed to mellow out a bit and I felt a little cooler. The rest of the afternoon flowed nicely into serene sunset followed by dinner and a late night wiling away at the bar.

Piña Colada – Ghanaian Style
3-4 coconuts
Water
1-2 pineapples
Rum
Sugar to taste
Drain liquid from coconuts. Many coconuts sold in the U.S. will have little or no liquid inside. Scrape meat from coconut and add to blender. Blend until fluid, adding water as necessary. Remove fruit from pineapple and juice in a blender. Imported pineapples will be less sweet than locally grown African fruit, so add sugar to taste. In a tall glass, add 3 ounces rum; add 2 ounces pineapple juice and 2 ounces coconut mixture. Serve over ice.
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The Fireside Sour
•

They say that variety is the spice of life. During a recent seminar at the Museum of the American Cocktail, Tad Carducci, a multi-award-winning bartender and founding partner of the beverage consulting firm Tippling Brothers, demonstrated how to use a variety of spices to give new life to some basic cocktails.

While many food enthusiasts are fervent about applying herbs and spices to various foods, Carducci is passionate about using spices to make unique and distinctive cocktails.

The seminar followed the use of spices, herbs and bitters from 2500 B.C. to the present. Carducci discussed the historical importance of spices and herbs as medicine, currency, foodstuffs and flavoring agents for spirits, liqueurs and cocktails.

Carducci mixed five different tipples, varying in flavor from sweet to sour to bitter to fiery hot. The most versatile and striking cocktail of the evening was the Fireside Sour.

Sours are a category of cocktails that consist of a base liquor, lemon (or lime) juice and a sweetener. Carducci’s creation follows this formula by combining Applejack liquor, lemon and tangerine, and a homemade simple sugar and spice syrup. Laird’s Applejack is one of the oldest domestic spirits in the United States, dating back to colonial times.

Carducci tracked the origins of the Fireside Sour back to original concept of punch, which was brought from India to England after colonization. Punch originally consisted of spirits, sugar, lemon, water and spices (often tea), 95 percent of which are grown in India, Carducci noted.

Before mixing the Fireside Sour, Carducci pulled a volunteer from the audience to demonstrate the ease of making the cocktail. The process began with juicing a fresh lemon and muddling tangerine slices for an extra citrus boost. Next, Carducci added his homemade spiced simple syrup and Laird’s Applejack before showing off his cocktail shaking technique.

The “secret” to the Fireside Sour was, without a doubt, Carducci’s spiced syrup, made from a combination of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, black pepper, ginger cloves and star anise.

The cocktail had several layers of flavor. At first sip, the tangerine provided a fresh and sweet smack, followed by a spiced apple pie flavor from the Applejack and spice syrup and finished off with a clear bite of cinnamon. Its taste resembled a bright and juicy version of mulled cider. While Carducci described it as a wintry drink that combined all his favorite flavors of Christmas, the sunny orange flavor makes this drink ideal for summertime.

Fireside Sour
2 ounces Laird’s Applejack (7 1/2 yr. preferred)
3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice
1/4 fresh tangerine, halved
1 oz. spice syrup (see recipe below)

Muddle tangerine. Add all remaining ingredients and shake. Double-strain into chilled glass. Garnish with floating tangerine wheel. Dust with cinnamon.

A simple variation on an Applejack Rabbit, this cocktail embodies all the flavors we associate with cold weather and the holidays and that we associate as being very American. They are actually very exotic.

Spice Syrup:
1 quart simple syrup
3 cinnamon sticks
1 nutmeg seed
1 finger ginger, peeled and finely chopped
3 whole star anise pods
2 tablespoons allspice berries
2 tablespoons whole cloves
2 tablespoons black peppercorns

Laird’s Applejack is available at Dixie Liquor (3429 M St.) in Georgetown. For more information about upcoming events from the Museum of the American Cocktail, visit www.museumoftheamericancocktail.org.

The Mermaid Cocktail
•

Anyone who has seen the newly released “Sex and the City 2” will tell you that there’s nothing quite like vacation with your BFFs. Fans of the original series will also confirm that Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha enjoy a good cocktail.
On a recent girlfriends getaway, my posse and I decided to make a themed cocktail to match the mermaid theme of our vacation. The main characters were myself, Miss Pixie Windsor, a Washington antique storeowner and avid collector of Mermaid memorabilia, and Jamye Wood, an upstate New York Web designer who has written a novel about a young girl who becomes a mermaid.
The three of us traveled to Florida’s Gulf coast to visit Weeki Wachee Springs, the town of living mermaids. Weeki Wachee is one of Florida’s oldest and most unique roadside attractions. It is now a state park, where live mermaids (that is, women dressed in fancy mermaid costumes) perform graceful underwater ballet in an aquarium-like setting on the Weeki Wachee River. The mermaids perform to music, using air hoses to stay under water throughout the entire show. Many celebrities, including Elvis, have attended the mermaid shows.

Our group decided to base ourselves in Siesta Key, FL to clock in some beach time. When perusing through a wide choice of beach houses to rent, we were all in agreement on a little cottage dubbed “The Sand Dollar,” mainly because of the heated saltwater pool with a tikki bar in the backyard. The house itself was secondary.

Our visit to Weeki Wachee did not disappoint. We enjoyed a day of retro fun, watching live synchronized mermaid shows that included a replay of Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” and a patriotic number with mermaids performing underwater flips with Old Glory. While we were unable to find a cocktail bar inside the park, one of the snack bars served drinks in mermaid-shaped souvenir cups that we took back to our beach house for later use.
Our first criteria in building our cocktail was that it had to be bubbly — sort of like the upbeat mermaids blowing bubbles underwater. We therefore decided to use sparkling wine as one ingredient.
Next, although the mermaids’ costumes at Weeki Wachee included bright red and gold attire, we decided that our drink should be the traditional green color. I determined the bright emerald hue of melon liqueur would fit the bill.
Jayme insisted that we include local ingredients, so we purchased fresh oranges at a nearby farmers’ market for juice. She even scouted out a starfruit to make celestial-shaped garnishes. In order to highlight the orange flavor, Pixie purchased Stoli Orange vodka for an added citrus boost.
Our finished cocktail turned out to be deceptively light and refreshing. The bright and sunny flavor from the fresh juice and sparkling wine masked the taste of the vodka. The melon liquor added a perfect hint of sweetness while giving our drinks a cool green glow. Not bad for improvising on vacation!

The Mermaid Cocktail
1.5 ounces Stoli Orange vodka
1.5 ounces orange juice
1 ounce melon liqueur
Sparkling wine
Combine the first three ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Pour into a long glass over ice and top with sparkling wine. Garnish with sliced starfruit.

Ingredients to make the Mermaid Cocktail may be purchased at Dixie Liquor at 3429 M St. in Georgetown.

The Josephine Baker
•

Cuba is many things to many people. For vacationers from Canada and Europe, it is a tropical Caribbean getaway. For cigar aficionados the island is renowned for its celebrated stogies. For music lovers, Cuba is a jazz hotbed that spawned legendary performers like Tito Puente, Celia Cruz, and the Buena Vista Social Club. It is a place to step back in time and wander the narrow streets of Old Havana and watch the antique cars cruise along the oceanfront Malecon roadway.

For drinkers, not only is Cuba the rum-soaked first home of Bacardi, it also holds an important spot in cocktail history. The daiquiri and mojito are two noteworthy drinks that trace their earliest roots to Cuba.

The Museum of the American Cocktail hosted a seminar at Georgetown’s Mie N Yu restaurant in June celebrating the rich cocktail history of Cuba. Phil Green, a founding member of the museum, and Charlotte Voisey, an internationally renowned mixologist, emceed the event. Attendees were treated to a range of drinks, including the historical El Presidente cocktail and the Moveable Feast, a Hemingway-inspired punch that Charlotte created for a Cuban-themed lounge in New York.

Charlotte and Phil discussed the history of Cuba, as a Spanish colony, during independence and post-Castro. Much of the evening was focused on Cuba’s role as a drinking destination during Prohibition.

When alcohol became illegal in the states, Havana became the unofficial U.S. saloon. It was easy for Americans to travel there. Airlines offered non-stop flights and steamer ships transported merrymakers from Florida. Popular bars such as the Floridita (Hemingway’s favorite), the U.S. Bar and La Bodega del Medio catered to American travelers.

During this time, a myriad of talented bartenders fled the U.S. in order to work in their professions. Phil described Cuba, along with England, France, Italy and others, as being one of the “carriers of the torch,” keeping the craft of the cocktail alive. In an effort to appeal to tourists, many cocktails were named after celebrities like the E. Hemingway Special, the Mary Pickford and my favorite cocktail of the evening, the Josephine Baker.

Famous for her risqué costumes and no-holds-barred dance routines, Baker, an American expatriate, became the talk of Paris during the Prohibition era. Her namesake tipple lives up to the hype of this notable entertainer.

The concoction is forged from a mixture of cognac, Port wine and apricot brandy, combined with an egg yolk for a frothy texture. The cocoa-colored cocktail has a sophisticated taste and a thick, smooth consistency. Its multi-layered flavor is subtly fruity and not overly sweet. A dusting of cinnamon adds a spicy kick.

While it may not be possible for U.S. passport holders legally travel to Cuba on a cocktail pilgrimage, the Josephine Baker is an easy drink to whip up at home.

Josephine Baker:

1 1/2 ounces Cognac
1 1/2 ounces tawny Port wine
1 ounce apricot brandy
1/4 ounce simple syrup
1 egg yolk

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with lemon peel and dust with cinnamon. If you are concerned about consuming raw egg yolks, use pasteurized eggs.

Ingredients to make the Josephine Baker are available at Dixie Liquor at 3429 M St. in Georgetown. For more information about the Museum of the American Cocktail, check out their Web site at www.museumoftheamericancocktail.org. [gallery ids="99158,102944" nav="thumbs"]

The Latest Dish, April 7
•

 

-Chef Robert Wiedmaier will expand his restaurant empire into Maryland when he opens The Mussel Bar by RW sometime in May (if the construction gods allow). The Woodmont Avenue location in Bethesda used to house Levante’s. Besides Belgian beer, mussels, fries and rock ’n’ roll, Wiedmaier will offer a basic menu of limited choices of fish, steak, crepes salads, oysters and, okay, two desserts.

In a few weeks, the team behind Clarendon’s Liberty Tavern will open two new eateries in the same neighborhood: first they’ll debut Northside Social, a coffeehouse and wine bar, which will open in Clarendon near Liberty. Chef Liam LaCivita will oversee both. Owners will also open Lyon Hall, a European-style brasserie, on Washington Boulevard. UK native Andy Bennett will be the chef de cuisine. Bennett has impressive credentials, as he worked for Daniel Boulud in New York. Robert Valencia has been named pastry chef for all three establishments. He hails from Boulevard in San Francisco and Blue Fin in New York.

Chef Update: Mark Hellyar has been named executive chef of Hook and Tackle Box restaurants in Georgetown. He served as chef de cuisine at the Oak Door at the Grand Hyatt, but he was in D.C. before that, as chef de cuisine at D.C.’s Blue Duck Tavern. Barry Zoslow has been named executive chef at Neighborhood Restaurant Group’s Tallula and EatBar. Previously, he was exec chef at Mendocino Grille and Wine Bar in Georgetown. Kyle Bailey and Tiffany MacIsaac, formerly of Allen & Delancey, are now at Birch & Barley/ChurchKey in D.C.

Pete’s Apizza, with one location in Columbia Heights, is slated to open a second on Wisconsin Avenue at Fessenden Street. It serves New Haven-style pizza (thin-crusted). New Haven-style pizza was introduced to D.C. by relocated brother and sister pizza lovers Michael and Alicia Wilkinson, from New Haven.

Owner Diton Pashaj says Rustik Neighborhood Tavern is slated to open in Bloomingdale at 1832 First St. this May. It will offer lunch, brunch, dinner, happy hour and outdoor seating. Now they just need their permit.

Tackle Box in Georgetown has plans to expand into Bethesda and Penn Quarter, according to its menu notes. A wine bar by the name of Dickson Wine is slated to open on U Street where Project 4 Art Gallery was, in the Dickson Building. Will PJ Clarke’s (another New York restaurant!) really open in the old Olives location? Bill Thomas of Bourbon and Breadsoda in Glover Park plans to transform an old gym into Jack Rose, a restaurant and bar at 2007 18th St.

Now slated to open in April: Ted’s BULLETIN on Barrack’s Row. American comfort food with Art Deco décor, and featuring a shaketender mixologist for milkshakes. Ted’s BULLETIN is from the folks who brought you Matchbox in Chinatown and Capitol Hill. Roberto Donna’s Galileo III, in the old Butterfield 9 space is also slated to open this month.

All About Oysters
•

Seafood lovers know the Washington area for its great crabs. The Maryland Blue Crab, a summertime luxury, keeps the Delmarva area swirling in culinary excitement every season, and signs for All-You-Can-Eat Snow Crab legs clutter the streets of beachside towns up and down the Chesapeake. But one hundred years ago, D.C. was known for its oysters, and over the last 10 years these coin-sized delicacies have been making a thundering resurgence.

“If you go back to circa 1890, 1900,” says David Moran, the managing director of Clyde’s of Gallery Place and Old Ebbitt Grill, “Washington, D.C. had over 150 oyster bars in the city.” Discussing oysters and wine with Moran at one of his bars in Clyde’s, acute rays of dusk flooding in streams of gold leaf through the windows, the afternoon seems more like a scene from a James Stewart flick than a scheduled interview. Moran’s restaurant effortlessly maintains a certain timeless American appeal — lacquered rosewood runs the length of the bar tops, and the buzz of customers seem to be as much a part of the design plan as the atrium-like conservatory room.

Moran’s enthusiasm for oysters is contagious, and he is proud of this area’s longstanding history surrounding bivalve food culture. “This was one of the hotbeds in the country,” he exclaims. “All they served were oysters and beer.”

Loved by the royal and working class alike, oysters occupy a unique intersection on the culinary map. An average Joe may not regard foie gras or salmon roe with particular enthusiasm. Likewise, try feeding livermush and coleslaw to a Washingtonian, and one will understand the very nature of dark comedy. Oysters, on the other hand, are universally understood and appreciated.

In ancient Rome, an oyster would fetch its weight in gold. Emperors, so enamored with these briny delicacies, would send droves of slaves into the English Channel to gather them. Contrarily, modest fishermen from Europe to Japan have lunched on mollusks for a millennium, and barely a century ago in this very city, oysters were the preferred bar fare of off-duty day laborers and wharf grunts. Today, oysters can fetch upwards of $3 a bite at fine dining restaurants, or one can knock back oyster shooters for a buck-fifty at O’Brien’s in Annapolis.

Unfortunately, the Chesapeake oyster population had dwindled to about 1 percent of its population from the late 19th century, due to overfishing, pollution and disease, and the Washington area oyster culture was nearly lost. Thankfully, due to population restoration efforts, sanctuary reefs have been set up to redeem the species, and more efforts are in the works. The reefs, set up five years ago, are now home to around 180 million native oysters.

Most oysters that find their way to the raw bar these days are harvested in oyster farms. Not only has this unique method of farming been pivotal in maintaining oyster populations for restaurateurs and consumers, they have in fact created entirely new varieties of oysters.

Though oysters can be broken down from three broad regional varieties — Eastern oysters, also known as Gulf or Atlantic oysters, European flat oysters, or Belons, and Pacific oysters — oyster farmers today can effectively treat their product as winemakers treat grapes. “If you take a chardonnay grape and grew it in southern Napa versus northern Napa, you’d get different flavor profiles,” explains David Varley, executive director of Bourbon Steak in Georgetown. “Same thing works with oysters. If you take an oyster and put it in a certain bay of water, it filters that water and picks up that area’s unique flavor profiles.”

Sharp and engaging, Varley has an encyclopedic knowledge of all things shellfish.
The way he can rattle off the names of oyster farms, harvesting techniques, and flavor characteristics, vaguely recalls a rambling Bob Dylan.

Having invited me to an oyster tutorial, Varley and I stand behind the bar by the serving counter of his kitchen. Before us sits a tray of softly crushed ice filled with nothing but a lemon wedge wrapped in cheesecloth and an inconceivably small bottle of Tabasco. In a similar platter sits a dozen oysters, not yet shucked. It is difficult to focus on anything when you know you are about to be eating fresh oysters, like the last few minutes of work on a Friday afternoon, but Varley manages to keep me engaged.

“There are couple different methods for growing oysters,” he tells me. “Hanging baskets is pretty much the dominant one on the east coast.” Oysters are hung at different ocean depths in baskets, suspended off the ocean’s floor by strings floated by buoys. “So you go pull a line up, crack open your box of oysters, power wash them, get rid of any starfish.” With the mention of starfish, my clear amusement is promptly shamed by the grave severity of Varley’s eyes.

“Starfish are the enemy of oyster farmers,” he says, daring me to find this funny. “They’ll just latch on to the oyster and pry them open. And they travel in packs like herds across the sea floor. It’s pretty nuts.”

I make a note to myself not to ever joke about starfish with an oyster farmer.

There are a slew of benefits to harvesting oysters over plucking them wild from the ocean floor. There is the peace of mind in knowing they are clean of unwanted pathogens, having been maintained by marine agricultural professionals. Fecal coliform is not a particularly pleasant bacteria to host.

But there are also indulgent advantages. Wild oysters, for one, do not naturally grow as deep in their shell as customers are accustomed to seeing. The deep-cupped shell, which retains the oyster’s delicate liquor, is a harvested characteristic. “Wild oysters,” says Varley, “like the shells at the beach, are flat and have that oblong shape. Oystermen chip the flat side of the shell, and the oyster will compensate by growing deeper.”

The ‘R’ Myth

Talk of harvesting and sanitation begets a single inquiry that seems custom tailored to chafe the nerves of any chef or restaurateur in the oyster business. The ‘R’ myth has been swirling about mollusks almost as long as the ocean currents themselves. Rumor has it that one should only eat oysters in the months which names contain the letter R. The remaining months—the consecutive summer months—are said to be an unsafe time to consume oysters.

“It really had a lot to do with a lack of refrigeration back in the day,” Moran explains. “You wanted to eat oysters in the cold months, so you knew they were unspoiled. So you’d eat them in November, December … only the months that have the letter R in them. And in the summer months you’d lay off them.”

Luckily for us “shellfishionados,” this myth has been thoroughly debunked. With the modernization of the industry, proper cooling and transportation allow restaurants to get safe oysters any time of year. In the summer months, business begins going further north into Canadian waters and British Columbia, where the water remains icy cold and the oysters grow at greater depths.

“I think my oysters often fly better than I do,” jokes Moran. “You pick them up in an inlet, they’re flown first class, and they’re on the plate at the Old Ebbitt the next day.”

Supplies are not as bountiful in the summer months, as any oysterman will admit, and there is less variety from which to choose. But safety and quality is no longer anything of concern.

The good news is that with every ebb, there comes a flow. There is a best time of year to eat oysters. Right now. “The oysters are eating a lot, right now” Varley says, “preparing themselves for the summer, for the spawn. So in the later months of winter they’re going to be the plumpest, definitely at their crispest, their peak of flavor in the winter months.”

Shucks

The crux of any oyster program is in the creatures being opened only after the customer orders them. “You can tell if they weren’t shucked to order,” says a visibly distressed Moran, the idea alone enough to distract him momentarily. In prior decades it was common for oysters on a menu to be pre-shucked and refrigerated on a sheet pan. This irritates Moran. “They’d have dried out from being shucked hours ago… They’re living organisms until you pop that shell,” he says. “You can taste the freshness.”

Speaking later with Varley, it becomes evident that abusing an oyster is a universal transgression of seafood specialists. “Nothing is worse than anticipating a great oyster, and getting a plate of shells, or having them chopped up into a million little pieces,” says Varley with a veteran air of frustration. With this he takes his oyster knife, a cross between a dinky ice pick and a butter knife (or as he puts it, a prison shank), and rolls a small green towel half way to the center.

“There are two methods of shucking oysters,” he says, picking up a shimmering, marbled beauty that he has been teasing for a while. “One is popping them at the hinge, and the other is stabbing them through the top shell and then slitting the connector muscle.”

He places the oyster with its hinge on the rolled half of the towel, cup side down, and folds the other half of the towel over the top of the shell. His right hand holds the oyster firmly in place beneath the towel. He explains that he prefers to shuck through the hinge because the knife can get a better foothold. He sticks the blade into the seam and the top shell begins to move. After twisting the knife once or twice, he drives it just enough to penetrate the top and bottom shells completely. There is an audible pop. “That’s the back hinge breaking,” he says with a roguish smile.

He wipes the residual dirt from the knife and moves it carefully into the opening at the hinge along the inside ceiling of the shell. “You want to separate the meat from the top. Ever so gently slice through the top adductor muscle.” Voila. The top shell comes off without protest. A picture perfect oyster.

It doesn’t take long for him to sever the muscle underneath the skirt on the other side and free up the glistening little booger. Now we are ready to eat.

Chew vs. Gulp

Among oyster connoisseurs, it is commonly agreed upon that one should not embellish the oyster with superfluous toppings. A squeeze of lemon perhaps, but tartar sauce, mignonette sauce and horseradish merely diminish the experience of this briny treasure, with its subtle variations of refreshing sweetness, salty, crisp flavors, and feathery soft meat. However, there appears to be a raging debate of a different order: shalt thou chew or shalt thou gulp thy holy sacrament?

“I chew ‘em,” says Varley with nonchalance. “I’m not trying to hide from them.” Well, it’s his kitchen. Let’s do it his way. Biting down on the morsel, I find it so light that my teeth hardly notice its presence. An initial briny minerality from the liquor gives way to sweet, clean tasting meat. There is a distinct and pleasant beachiness that floods my senses like a familiar scent, reminding me of naps in the sand of Hilton Head Island and boat rides down the Chesapeake. I realize that I have never tasted anything this fresh. Score one for Team Chew’Em.

“Gulp,” says Moran without a moment’s hesitation. “Just squeeze some lemon, pick up the shell and pour them right in your mouth.” There are oysters in front of us, and he graciously demonstrates. I join him. The man makes a persuasive argument. It was a Raspberry Point oyster, with a taste like cucumbers and melons. There is a particular satisfaction in slurping down the entire beast, like jumping off the high dive and feeling the thrill of weightless liberation. A cool sweetness lingers seductively down my throat.

“If they’re done right, it’s perfect right there. I am a gulper of wine and oysters,” laughs Moran. My standing on the matter of Gulp VS Chew is split, and I can see that will not be the one to resolve this timeless debate. Can’t we just do them both?

Drink Pairings

I have a beer in front of me. I chase down my oyster, and the bite from the lager refreshes my palette and readies my tongue for another oyster — a beautiful sensation. The art of pairing drinks with oysters is a specialty hobby, and some take it rather seriously. Moran, for instance, holds an annual oyster and wine pairing competition throughout the month of October. Last year, he sampled around 350 wines with oysters over the course of a few weeks. Not a bad job, he admits with a laugh.

As a definitive rule, red wines do not pair well with oysters. “It’s just the texture and structure of them,” says Moran. Cabernets and merlots overpower the oysters’ delicate flavors. “They’re very tannic. It dries your mouth and you can’t taste the oysters.”

The types of wine to drink with oysters are crisp dry white wines, refreshing palette cleansers. “You’re looking for a wine that will prepare your mouth for your next oyster,” offers Moran.

Specifically, Moran has learned, New Zealand sauvignon blancs have been the regularly prevailing champions of Moran’s annual competition. He explains, “Two years ago, out of the 340 we had entered, our entire top 10 — and we do this competition blind, we don’t look at a label until this competition is over — all 10 winners were New Zealand sauvignon blancs.”

These New Zealand wines have a powerful fruit explosion up front. If sipped independently, these wines are often too much of a fruit bomb. For oysters, however, it has a wonderful balance of acidity, which cuts one’s palette, leaving taste buds refreshed and tingling. “It’s almost like it prepares your mouth for the next oyster,” says Moran. “When you take the wine with the saltiness and brininess of the oyster, it’s a perfect combination.”

Whatever the pairing, a great oysters is a welcomed luxury. In the prime of the season, with Island Creek oysters coming fresh from Ducksbury Bay and the local catch from Rappahannock Oyster Company rolling into markets and restaurants daily, Washington’s oyster culture is alive and well.
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Purely Puro
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On June 24, bracing spirits and sublime hors d’oeuvres enlivened a steamy night at Georgetown’s Puro Café. Stunning Euro stylistas in tiny shorts teetered on four-inch heels while mixing with chic Georgetowners for the opening of the new all-white trellised patio. It was easy to keep our cool under a draped pavilion replete with comfy lounges and twinkling lights while sipping “Copper Fox Bayou Cooler,” created and served by Alembic’s chief mixologist, Jon Arroyo. The soothing summer punch recipe, given to me by Arroyo, consists of Wasmund’s Single Malt Whisky, agave sweetened iced tea, fresh lemon juice, Grand Marnier, Peychaud’s bitters and Angostura bitters. A few julep cups of this elixir and the blazing heat becomes a fleeting memory.

42 Degrees Catering, which does special events around town and for Puro Café’s private parties, created heavenly savory and sweet delicacies for the evening’s guests. Here’s what Chef Frederik de Pue prepared for the guests. I wouldn’t want you to miss a bite!

Menu of Savory Treats

Carpaccio of foie gras with a remoulade of celery root and coffee liquor dressing; Hearts of palm vol-au-vent with little cilantro pesto jellies; Grilled baby octopus rolled into in a phyllo cigar with tapenade of kalamatas and pine nuts; Seared sea scallops with a minty ginger miso mustard sauce; Muscovy duck breast in a spicy mango cube with balsamic vinegar and Thai basil; Crisp Arctic char with steamed leeks with apple cider coulis and parsley chips; Maryland jumbo lump crab tempura with black truf?e soy sauce and chervil salad; Confit of rockfish filet with Creole salsa, Peruvian aji pepper and watercress cream; Queso blanco tequenos topped with avocado cream and scallions; Black pepper chicken spring rolls with rice vinegar dressing; Beef tenderloin marinated with chardonnay and soy sauce.

Sampler of Sweet Treats

Single-origin Venezuelan chocolate; Saigon caramel mousse; Chocolate caramel mousse with vanilla sponge cocoa liqueur; Mango cilantro bavarois; Goat cheese with dark chocolate mousse and fresh raspberry; Cherry wrapped in single-origin Tanzanian dark chocolate.

Maryland Jumbo Lump Crab Tempura with Black Truffle Soy Sauce and Chervil Salad

1 pound fresh jumbo lump crab meat
2 cups tempura flour
1 teaspoon curcuma (turmeric)
1/4 bunch chervil
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons truffle juice
1 tablespoon soy sauce
Salt
Pepper
Frying oil

Mix mayonnaise, truffle oil and soy sauce with a pinch of ground black pepper. Depending on saltiness of soy sauce you might need to add little more salt. Add one tablespoon of chopped chervil to bring color to the sauce.

Place whole pieces of crabmeat gently on a paper towel to dry the crab, so the batter will stick.

In a separate bowl, mix tempura flour and curcuma with a little water to create a thick, smooth batter. Add several ice cubes to the mixture — the ice will cool down the batter and will create a nice crispy tempura.

Preheat frying oil to 320 degrees. Place spoonful-sized pieces of crab into the batter and then into the oil. Give them enough time to form a nice crispy exterior. Once they’re golden, remove and place on a paper towel. Serve immediately with dipping sauce on the side.

Visit Puro Café at www.purocafe.com.
For private parties, visit www.42cateringservices.com.
For cocktail catering, visit www.drinkalembic.com.

For questions or comments on this article, contact jordan@whiskandquill.com.
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Walter Nicholls on Thai Tuna Salad
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Thanks to the Royal Thai Embassy, I’ve reawakened a lost appreciation for canned tuna — one of Thailand’s principal exports. But tuna didn’t take me to Thailand. A few months back, as a food journalist and guest of the government, I traveled to Bangkok and points south and saw for myself what a terrific job the Thais have done in the eco-friendly conservation of natural resources and the revitalization of mangrove forests that in years past had been devastated by fish farming. I found the tuna salad of my dreams, and far more, at Bangkok’s legendary Mandarin Oriental hotel.

As it turns out, every day at 6 p.m. staff members of the Mandarin deliver a small cocktail amenity to the hotel’s orchid-filled guest rooms, placing the nibble beside the daily tropical fruit display. One evening, this dressing drink hors d’oeuvre may be a pretty coddled egg or, perhaps, a rich duck liver pate. Another day, think sushi. To ensure that the rotating roster of 15 cocktail amenities is up to MO’s exacting standards, every four months Executive Chef Norbert Kostner gathers together his staff for a testing and tasting workshop. And that’s where hotel Chef Enrico Froehnel introduced the group to his unexpected Thai tuna salad.

One afternoon at poolside, Chef Kostner explained that “We needed something different and here we have a perfect fusion of American and Thai with refreshing flavors that explode in the mouth and then bring harmony.” Granted, there is lots of chopping involved. But Froehnel’s exceptional seafood spread, loaded with taste sensations of kaffir lime and lemon grass, is worth the effort. To start: grab a can of good tuna.

Thai Tuna Salad

Makes 1 1/2 cups

2 teaspoons finely chopped lemongrass (use only inner core)
2 teaspoons grated galangal
1 teaspoon finely chopped kaffir lime leaves
1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
2 1/2 tablespoons diced sweet peppers (thin-skinned varieties are best)
1 teaspoon finely chopped cilantro
2 teaspoons finely chopped spring onions (green part only)
5 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 1/2 teaspoons lime juice
A few drops hot sauce, such as Tabasco
A few drops Worcestershire sauce
1 pinch freshly ground pepper
1 pinch salt
1 teaspoon maple syrup
1 six-ounce can tuna, drained and finely shredded

Combine all ingredients, except the shredded tuna, in a large kitchen bowl and mix until well blended. Add the shredded tuna and mix again.

For best flavor, cover and refrigerate for two hours.

Serve with melba toasts, rice crackers, or sliced baguette.

(Kaffir lime leaves and galangal — a ginger relative — are available at Asian markets.)