We went out for lunch today, just my husband and I. The restaurant was Asian-fusion cuisine, with a decor meant to remind you of Japan, possibly, and a bevy of circulating waitresses. It wasn’t going to be authentic, I knew, but peeking at the plates on neighboring tables, I saw the food would be pleasant, at least.
An item on the menu caught my eye. “Daiquiri with rum, coconut, or strawberry.” I have happy memories of Daiquiris from my teen years in Michigan. My folks used to blend them up on summer evenings, in the kitchen with the window open and a warm breeze blowing in from the garden. Dad and Mom would give me sips, and I would savor lime, balanced with a little sweetness, and heady rum. I loved to crunch the slushy ice, standing there in the kitchen while my smiling parents toasted each other and let me steal a little from their glasses. Giving in to nostalgia there in the Asian restaurant, I ordered a Daiquiri.
Well, it was a little sad. It was much too sweet. The ice was blended to chunks, not slush. And it was made with vodka.
See the little Stoli marker? I sent it back, and settled for a Coke. Disappointed, I really did have to pause and think. Silly to order a cocktail in an Israeli restaurant, even if the cuisine is supposed to be international. This is not a cocktail-consuming culture. It would have been more sensible to order a beer or a glass of white wine to go with my coconut and lemon-grass scented chicken. (Don’t know how good drinks are in bars – I don’t visit them.)
This trivial incident made me ask myself why I should expect life – and Daiquiris – in Israel to match any expectations of mine. Once more, I reminded myself to drop expectations based on my previous culture. Stay open to the myriad-faceted culture around you, I thought. Well, I’ve only been here 32 years.
But there was a happy ending: the owners took the price of the sad daiquiri off our bill, without our even asking them to. I’ll be eating there again.
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Back in the 1930s, a journalist named Charles H. Baker took on a job as ship’s chef. How he and a young heiress on board met and courted, I don’t know. What is known is that Baker, now married and very rich, took off with his bride, traveling and sampling local food and drink wherever they went in a seriously hedonistic way. Baker wrote a two-volume set of books: The Gentleman’s Companion. One volume was devoted to exotic foods, the other to drinks exotic and mundane. His style was florid and complacent; he liked to drop the names of famous friends; and his old-fashioned male chauvinism makes me snicker – but his recipes are good till today. Here’s his recipe for daiquiris, as printed in The Gentleman’s Companion.
“The 2 originators were my friend Harry E. Stout, now domiciled in Englewood, New Jersey, and a mining engineer associate, Mr. Jennings Cox. TIME: summer of 1898. PLACE: Daiquiri, a village near Santiago and the Bacardi plant, Cuba. Hence the name.
“… The original Harry Stout-Jennings Cox mixture for the Original Cuban Daiquiri was: 1 whiskey glass ( 1 1/2 oz) level full of Carta Blanca, or Carta de Oro Bacardi Rum, 2 tsp of sugar, the juice of 1 1/2 small green limes = strained; and very finely cracked ice.
“Either shake very hard with finely cracked ice and pour ice and all into a tall flute cocktail glass, or put the same things into The Blender, and let frost into the delicious sherbet consistency we so admire nowadays…never use lemon juice. And remember please, that a too-sweet Daiquiri is like a lovely lady with too much perfume. Sugar should be cut down to 1 tsp. to our belief, and a Manhattan glass is less likely to tip over, in steady service!
“After some rather extensive carpenter work building Tropical Daiquiris Your Pastor has reached the following conclusion, betterments possibly, over the original Daiquiri mix…About 1/2 to 1 average small green lime gives acid aplenty. We always allow 2 ounces of rum. Delicate crowning touch: Sprinkle 3 or 4 drops of Warrick Freres French Orange Flower Water over the finished drink.”
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And I found an interesting blog devoted to cocktails, with an entry on the bon-vivant Baker, here.
Salud!
“This trivial incident made me ask myself why I should expect life – and Daiquiris – in Israel to match any expectations of mine. Once more, I reminded myself to drop expectations based on my previous culture. Stay open to the myriad-faceted culture around you, I thought. Well, I’ve only been here 32 years.”
Hi Mimi,
I think I know what you mean….. I have been here even longer and I am still practicing….. So when something as pleasant as the restaurant taking that drink back and not charging you for it happens, we are the more reconciled and happy…..
Did you eat at Yamaka? my husband raved about an Asian fusion place in Herzilya that sounds very similar. Glad they obliged with the drink!
Hi, Abbi,
No, it was the Teriyaki resto in Petach Tikvah. While the food is pleasant, it’s not raving quality good – they tend to make the dishes too sweet and lean on liquid smoke a little too hard. It makes a change once in a while. The only really good Oriental restaurant I’ve found (kosher) is the Pagoda, in Tiveria. That’s great.
Mimi