As I advance- tentatively- into the twilight years of Late Late Youth, I'm finding that simplicity (in all its many splendid forms) is the way forward- most especially when it comes to cocktails- and the making of. Once Upon a Time there was a fashion- I'm thinking back to the 1980s- for exotic cocktails. This may also explain the popularity of vodka in that exuberant time: sapphire blue in colour, decorated with miniature umbrellas and flavoured with chunks of tinned pineapple. It may also explain the enthusiasm for Hawaiin shirts, Ray-Bans, people dancing around swimming pools, and the music of Wham!
No. Give me a Dry Martini over a new-fangled cocktail invention. Any day of the year. Or a Bloody Mary, a Bullshot, a Whisky Sour or a Margarita. Infinitely preferable to some trendy concoction invented by a bearded 'mixologist' in a tight suit, yup- him wot keeps you waiting for fifteen minutes at the bar, as he throws his cocktail shaker in the air. The concept of 'theatre' can be taken to extremes.
And it's the same with food. A simple 'classic' (as The Sunday Times Colour Supplement prefers to call it) is infinitely preferable to a pretentious Gastro-Pub horror, served with a flourish, and on a square plate. I would rather have a well-made Prawn Cocktail- prepared with love- than a trendy 'fusion' dish, which- somehow- doesn't quite seem to work; or along similar lines- a traditional dish given a 'twist' by a twenty-something up and coming 'chef'. What's the point? Why does a classic need a twist? Isn't that why it's a classic in the first place.
Which takes me to the Black Velvet cocktail. Now, there's a classic if there ever was one! Savoury, creamy Guinness stout and bone-dry champagne: it's beautifully simple. The story goes that it was invented at Brooks's to commemorate the death of Prince Albert from typhoid fever in 1861- which makes sense, as when it's made properly, it does look a bit like a black armband- or at least for those of us with over-active imaginations.
Go to the wonder that is YouTube and you will discover a whole plethora of earnest barmen teaching the world how to make it. Some make it better than others. It's not just a matter of mixing Guinness with Champers- plonking in the stout with a fizzy white wine, doing the hokey cokey and stirring it all about. No. To make it properly, you need to do the following:
Get hold of a champagne flute and stick it in the 'fridge. Pour in some Guinness Stout- about halfway up the glass. Now it's time for the Champagne. Very slowly pour the champagne over an inverted silver spoon into the glass. The goal is to separate the Guinness from the champagne, so that the Guinness remains at the bottom of the glass, and the champers blurs in nicely at the top. And that's it. No more, no less. It's a splendid drink.
I'm also keen on serving this with a pheasant casserole- which reminds me. Country Life have just published a bizarre recipe for devilled pheasant, as favoured by HRH The Princess Anne. It's Gothic. It's magnificent. It's a homage to a pint of double cream and a jar of Sharwood's Green Mango Chutney. I need to cover this in a subsequent post.
