The Double E (in front of a lamp EE favors, but that I do not)

The Double E’s story begins when EE learned to order her cosmos with gin quite some time ago.  She got on alright ordering in this way (“I’d like a cosmopolitan, but with gin instead of vodka”) – which always resulted in one of the following:

- a very confused waiter who didn’t know what’s in a cosmo
- an eye rolling bartender who makes all pink drinks the same way regardless of the request
- a bartender who takes the opportunity to ask the other ingredients as well because he has no clue how to make a drink.

This pattern was smashed on a rooftop in rome one fine may evening. The astoundigly competent Italian waiter acted like he’d been talked down to and says, “of course, you want a swanky cosmo”.   This proper name provided no relief to EE’s subsequent ordering at other places, but it is a better order at home.

Fast forward to this spring when we got lazy about going to the store and ran out of cranberry juice.  The simple substitution was pomegranate.   This variant had no name, it was simply the illegitimate child of our irresponsibility, but one that EE took a shine to.  Then we went to a family weekend at a beach house and the drink earned a name.

Lo and behold, another person one could accurately refer to as EE (much less cute, more gruff, and harder to please with a drink, but still very loved) really liked this drink as did everyone else.  So I named the drink for its following of Double Es and began making pitchers of them everyday at about 5, you can guess where things went from there.

The Double E:

Ingredients

1 gin (I was using Bombay Sapphire)

3/4 Cointreau

1/2 Pomegranate Juice

Juice from 1/2 a lime

Combine ingredients over ice and shake well.  Serve up.

A couple of weeks ago I went to Bermuda (sans TR, who had to work – a common theme).  Actually being in Bermuda made me:

1) Love Bermuda pink even more

2) Think maybe I’d had enough of it on the walls of my Manhattan living room

So, introducing the newest incarnation of the Tessin Rinpoche habitat:

The concept is more clubby, more Central Park-y. 

It is a pure experiment, putting a dark color on the walls.  But so far, we like it.

Happy 4th of July.   With luck, the enigmatic Tessin himself will be inspired to post some holiday cocktails.

The summary: 

The point of this mini manifesto is to set the stage for more posts on things I consider cool, and in keeping with the Tessin Rinpoche aesthetic.  To keep it interesting, I will try to focus on things that are not currently particularly popular.  And I will try to be a tiny bit disciplined about logic, reason, and research. 

Is this whole endeavor sort of silly and presumptuous?  Sure.  But the serious goodness of TR’s cocktails aside, the whole blog is an exercise in silliness, so you won’t find a lot of apologies here. 

Lively/unserious commentary and debate always welcome.

Sometimes – unfortunately not often enough – it’s possible for one thing to simultaneously possess/embody:

1. Style
2. Tradition (in the best sense of the word)
3. Function
4. General conscientiousness (e.g., to be healthy, thrifty, locally-made, green – in the environmental sense…. not necessarily all of these at once… 1 or 2 may be enough). 

I try to keep a sharp eye out for anything that fits this description.  When something fits into all of these categories, it’s only a matter of time (though admittedly, sometimes a very long time) until it becomes popular in a more mainstream sense.

I’d say home mixology itself is a good example.  It has some inherent style (if you think drinks look pretty and that there’s graciousness in the act of serving them).  It certainly has tradition.  It is very functional – customized drinks for yourself and your favorite people, in the comfort of your (or their) home!  And it’s even thrifty.  No wonder the hobby is enjoying a resurgence.

For the purposes of brevity and ease of communication, I call anything and everything that I believe possesses all of these qualities, whether it’s currently popular or not: “cool.”  In my book, this is very high praise.

If something is EE-cool, the good news is that it doesn’t really matter to me whether it’s actually popular or not.  If it isn’t popular, who cares?  I think it’s cool in its own right, and if/when it’s “discovered,” I’ll feel I was ahead of the time.  If it is popular, who cares?  I still think it’s cool in it’s own right, it will probably stay popular for a while, and eventually it will probably become popular again (see previous point). 

(In case you’re wondering, Bertessa and I usually, but do not always, agree on what’s cool.  In general, he thinks anything very popular/branded becomes, almost by definition, uncool… whereas I don’t hold this against something.  Example: Louis Vuitton Damier canvas.  I, on the other hand, think he gives function too much weight relative to aesthetic appeal.  Sometimes function is enough to justify something, but it doesn’t make it cool.  Example: Crocs.)

A few months ago, I wrote about potpourri, which I think is cool.  But there are other examples, which have enjoyed varying degrees of popular resurgence (currently or previously).  Whether we own these things or not, I’m a big fan of all of all of the things the below.  Not everyone is.  But as explained, it doesn’t really matter to me. 

 Basic examples, in no particular order: 

Dutch bicycles

 Obviously beautiful, useful for getting around, healthy – if you ride carefully – and environmentally responsible.  Sadly, not too affordable in the USA.

Awesome.  Almost enough to motivate me to dress up and ride to work…

 …or maybe we can leave that to Bertessa.

Barbour coats

Stylish (especially if you’re tromping around the grounds of a Scottish castle, in mind or body), a wardrobe classic for outdoor hobbies since the 1910s, warm, waterproof, long-lasting, and relatively thrifty – esp. considering the long-lasting part.  

The classic – waxed cotton 

Great vintage poster, circa 1920s?

 Props to Barbour for having the good sense to feature a Border Terrier on their homepage.

But we will not be outdone, even if it requires resorting to poor-quality Blackberry photos from last winter.

(And few Tessin posts are complete without fitting in at least a couple pet photos.)

 Dahlia models her very own Barbour, with some snowmen in Central Park.

For the record, clothes for dogs don’t qualify as cool.  They’re just cute.

Dahlia on the move.

Picardie glasses

So nice to look at, traditionally used in many charming cafes and restaurants, stackable, very easy to hold, very difficult to break, very inexpensive. 

 So great!

 Wine in a Picardie glass at an outdoor cafe – so cool.

A drink target could involve an objective property of the drink being designed: flavor (spice, citrus, basil), glass-type (cocktail, highball, solo cup), color (red, clear, orange), garnish-use (onion, brussel sprouts, licorice)… really anything that describes some aspect of the drink.

Another drink target could be a concept, feeling, or vibe that the drink should impart.  This type of criteria is trickier because it is inherently more subjective, but it is often my most effective method when mixing for those I know and love the most.  Since I’m a home mixologists, most of my guests are in this category.

As an example of designing a drink by feeling, I have two recipes for the same feeling.  The two recipes are nice because they illustrate differences of interpreting the same mandate, and because one is simple, the other complex.

EE said to me one Thursday, when making omelettes – something she’s very, very good at –  ”I’d like a drink that tastes like herbs, like in Provence.”  Nevermind that neither of us have been to France outside Paris.  I thought I got the idea: fields of lavender, soft skies, not too sweet, not too anything. 

In my head, at least, I saw something like this:

Fields of Provence, with lavender flowertops and soft light, is a good example of a concept or feeling a drink can seek to capture.

The result was the light and relatively simple:  

Flowertops:

Ingredients

1 lavender-infused gin

1/2 Dolin blanc vermouth

1/3 St. Germain’s elderflower liqueur

5 drops lemon bitters

couple leaves of mint

Shake vigorously.  Serve up.  Garnish with a flower, piece of fresh lavender, or any herb you have around (you know, make it pretty).

Unfortunately (but not that unfortunately, as come on, we’re talking about mixology here), this isn’t what EE had in mind.  She refined her request by saying, “No, no, it needs to be red and yellow too!  Like a tablecloth.”  She was thinking of vibrant, Provence-style linens, and of something much more earthy.  Ah!  Got it.  The concept of rich, aromatic soil is a much more challenging flavor, because it is quite complex. 

The Provence-style linens EE was thinking of, to complement her omelettes.

Still Provence, but more earth, and red soil - the Terroir.

The result was a drink that got high marks for meeting the desired target, and for just being a great drink:

Terroir de Provence (Cheesy name, yes, but there are enough ingredients to merit the grandiosity.  As I say, I’ve never been there, so there’s a lot of tongue-in-cheek involved in this whole project):

Ingredients:

1 lavender-infused gin

1/2 sweet vermouth

1/2 St. Germain’s elderflower liqueur

1/3 basil-infused bourbon

1/3 Bols genever

splash of brandy

whisper of dill-infused vodka

a little freshly grated ginger

Stir.  Serve up with an herbal garnish (EE voted for a rosemary sprig).

Two great drinks (Flowertops for me, Terroir for EE) to accompany a simple meal at home. 

Bon apetit.

I feel challenged by making cold but warming drinks.  This is silly because all alcohol is warming, right?  True, but there is something to the way a drink looks, smells, and plays on the tongue that warms or chills well before ethyl becomes your mental tauntaun.  For example, I would argue that a Martini is an arctic drink (not just cold, but downright glacial, which is kind of awesome) while a Gin & Tonic is refreshingly cold (more like a June breeze or snow cone).  On the warming side – ignoring hot drinks – Egg Nog is warming (more a promise of warmth, like a cold pair of gloves) while a Pink Zipper is hot!  Damn hot!

A Pink Zipper (it’s pinker in reality)

Aspects of Hotness (in a Pink Zipper, that is…)

• Color – a subtle warming pink
• Tequila – it comes from hot places and retains that heat in the form of Midi-Chlorians, a special six molecule nano-carbon sub-atomical hot neutron plasma structure unique to plants grown south of the Freeze Your Keister line (this line is said to be moving south due to climate change – it even temproarily dipped south of Houston this month)
• Plasma (see Tequila) – the sun is made out of plasma, this stuff literally provides all warmth we known to Earth.  No plasma, no heat, no nothing (may not be entirely true as tectonic effects may generate some heat without a sun, but I’m not sure)
• Jalapeno (sorry, I’m not sure how to get a tilde on my ‘n’) – also from south of the FYK, jalapenos have a very high concentration of Midi-Chlorians, but still have a father whereas Habaneros may have been conceived by Midi-Chlorians
• Ginger – Not a Midi-Chlorian source, but totally has zip

The other ingredients are important too, though, because they make the drink balanced and enjoyable instead of searing and lethal – like the ozone layer!

Ingredients

1/2 Jalapeno-infused tequila

1/2 Tequila

2/3 Cointreau

1/2 a lime’s juice

1/3 Pomegranate juice

1/3 Agave nectar

1/4 ginger juice

Some frozen cranberries

Combine in a shaker and shake vigorously.  Serve up and garnish with frozen cranberries (or small jalapenos).

A few notes:

• The balance of infused/non-infused tequila depends on how strong your infused tequila is – use your judgment
• Infusing cranberries into the jalapeno tequila would be one more step of awesomeness
• May the force be with you

Maisie Jones (2003-2009)

Maisie was a good chaser, and a good cat.  She was. . . She was one of us.

She was a cat who hated the outdoors, and bathing, and as a napper explored the surfaces of our apartment from window to rug.  And she was an avid toy chaser.  And a good friend.

She died–she died as so many of her generation, before her time.  In your wisdom you took him, Lord.  As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364.  These young men gave their lives.  And Maisie too.  Maisie who. . . who loved chasing.*

And so, Maisie Jones, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit this drink to you:

A Little Black Cat

Sweet with a peppery bite, it reflects her character as well as her color.  Simple, it is as easy to make as it was for EE to pick her out of a box of free kittens on the corner of Bissonnet and Hazard.

Ingredients

1 Kahlua

1/2 Fernet branca

Stir, swirl, mix, or shake.  Serve up, down, on the rocks, or as a shot.  Let the random cat hair in the glass remain as garnish.

Goodnight, sweet kitty.

*Confused?  Watch The Big Lebowski

Maisie resenting the holidays

Cranberry-infused Gin with Tonic (plus some squirrel candles)

EE and I are uber-excited to be hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year!  Because we live far from our families, and because I’m working on Friday, we are staying in Manhattan.  This will be our first chance to see the parade, and our first major holiday together without the presence of relatives.  (Relatives that may be reading this: we are very sad not to see you.)  To make the best of the situ, we have teamed up with pals to build a guest list that is an ideal mix of friends, friendly colleagues, relatives of guests, and people we haven’t met.  I’m particularly fond of the last guest category as having people who I’ve never met at the table seems very in keeping with the sharing and giving themes of the holiday.

The most surprising aspect of planning for this Thanksgiving has been the manner in which people seriously consider the invitation to come over.  We kept hearing, “Sounds great, but I’ll only come if I can make and bring X, Y, and Z.”  This response has been a huge relief, because I’m not pressured to provide people with the special dish they associate with giving thanks.  For my part, I love the traditional Thanksgiving spread: turkey (ours is a bronze heritage bird raised on pasture upstate by Wendy), stuffing (I’m making oyster stuffing with my Grandmother’s recipe), pie (I can’t bake to my own standards - luckily others are providing this), etc.

The one aspect of the feast that isn’t embedded in any childhood traditions: a concept of perfect Thanksgiving cocktails.  This is an amazing opening for the home mixologist, and I’ve been working on ways to fill the void.

A few general principles I’ll be mixing by:

1. Have fun
2. Don’t judge; serve people what they want
3. Honor the season, somehow
4. If not the season, a well-worn concept of the Thanksgiving holiday

There are some challenges to consider:

1. Large groups
2. Diversity – just because you may be related, doesn’t mean you like the same drinks
3. Long time-periods (waiting for the turkey to cook)
4. Crowded kitchens

Some tactics I’ll be trying:

1. Infusion – easily (I promise, see below) handles principles 3 or 4.  An infusion allows a novel drink without too many ingredients to mix.
2. Long drinks – they’ll help people keep pace, be refreshed, and stay out of the kitchen.

Cranberry-infused Gin & Tonic

Infuse the gin

Buy some raw cranberries.  Take a jar, fill 1/8 with cranberries, just cover the cranberries with gin and muddle (basically just pop most of the cranberries).  Fill jar with gin.  Leave overnight to 24 hours.  Strain out the cranberries.

Use the infusion to make a Gin and Tonic as described here, but garnish with frozen cranberries instead of lime.

Refresher course on making a Tessin Gin & Tonic

Turkey Carver

Ingredients

1 Bourbon

1/4 Maraschino liqueur

1/8 Fernet Branca

1/8 Kahlua

Squeeze lemon juice

Stir the ingredients in a tall glass filled with ice and top with tonic.

Kitchen Commander

Ingredients

1 Rum (whatever you’ve got)

1/2 Stone’s Ginger

1/4 Cointreau

a few cranberries (frozen or otherwise)

Shake (have to break down the cranberries a bit).  Pour in a tall glass filled with ice.  Top with sparkling water.  Garnish with frozen cranberries.

160 Degrees (or Is The Turkey Ready?)

Ingredients

1 Bourbon

3/4 Stone’s Ginger

1/3 Pimms

dash Anisette

2 drops Peychaud bitters

Stir, strain into a cocktail glass.  Garnish with a lemon twist.

160 Degrees

Of course, wine will be served with the meal, but I’ll leave wine blogging to others.  Hopefully some of these drinks may inspire a cocktail or two at your festivities this week!

Some fun pics of the squirrels (they are way too fun; I can’t wait to light them):

Yesterday’s New York Times included this article referencing the movement of men’s fashion – with some shout-outs to interior design – towards 19^th-century inspiration.  I love the article.  And I don’t. 

Honestly, I think I like the article mainly for vain reasons.  This year’s trends validate some of the more distinctive choices I’ve made in terms of fashion (Winter 2005: a fox collar for myself and an enormous, muskrat, trapper hat for Bertessa), as well as home design (antique china plates on my walls).  But I don’t like the idea that wearing old-fashioned styles, and having old stuff in your home, is cool just when carried out by Lower East Side and Brooklyn hipsters.  And I don’t say that because I live on the Upper West Side.  Vintage is cool when it’s authentic, but authentic is different for everyone.  It can’t be purchased in a few choice locales, no matter how well curated the stores’ merchandise may be.

Making the “19^th-century” an of-the-moment trend trivializes a very legitimate, untrendy, Tessin Rinpoche goal: living a modern life in a style that honors the best of our personal and cultural history.

I have always loved what the article terms “Victorian-era clutter.”  But I think it’s coolest is when it’s not actually clutter, but something that you personally value and appreciate having on display in your home.  For me, the bit of Victorian clutter I’m enjoying having in my living room right now is my grandfather’s old steamer trunk.

Victorian clutter in the living room

My grandfather was born in Perth, Australia in 1906, and immigrated to the U.S. as a very young man in the 1920s.  He and his brother Ken spent a number of years working and partying in New York, traveling all over the Americas, and generally growing up.  Then Hitler invaded Belgium and Holland in May of 1940; he and Ken immediately set sail for New Zealand, where their family lived, to enlist.  They were strongly opposed to the ongoing U.S. stance of neutrality and felt called to defend others’ freedom – incredibly courageous.  Ken was killed in North Africa; my grandfather served until the end of World War II, and then returned to the U.S. with my grandmother (his new New Zealander bride, who’d been his pen-pal through the war) in 1945.  His trunk, which I’m told he bought second-hand when he was young – possibly literally Victorian – accompanied him on many of these journeys.  It sat in my parents’ basement, under the stairs, for most of my childhood.  I was always intrigued by his hand-painted name and the many stamps and stickers from around the world.  There are even some train stickers from when Auntie B took it on a trip or two in the 1950s. 

Now it serves as a mini coffee table, and I really love having it there.  Can we agree that having something personally meaningful is better than buying an old trunk simply for the sake of having one?  Or buying a new one that’s trying to look old from Restoration Hardware, Horchow, or even one of my favorites, Jayson Home & Garden?

 I like homes that clearly reflect the identity – both present and historical – of the people who live there.  I guess it’s nice that 19^th-century decor is “in” … but it doesn’t really matter.  It is not a good reason to buy taxidermy, antlers, amateur portraits of strangers, and antique leather-bound books in bulk on eBay; that’s just silly.  Perhaps it IS a good reason, when you’re visiting family over the holidays, to identify some basement/attic clutter you particularly like … and perhaps request that it relocate to your living room! 

P.S. – No need to regale real-life guests with the tales of your clutter.  Just offer them a cocktail.

Regardless of whether you know the novel (though I hope you do), the point here is that first impressions aren’t always right, but that they do matter.  In the real-life Tessin Rinpoche salon (my home), I’ve been thinking about the first impression my home gives – what do I perceive when I walk in the door, and do I like it?  How can I enhance it?

Ideally, our apartment would have an entryway.  Entryways make coming and going very civilized, and allow one to both contain and control a home’s first impression.  I would love the process of figuring out how I wanted my entryway to be, and then playing with all the details (and in a small, enclosed space, pretty much everything is a detail).

For a couple examples of cozy entryways that I love, see Christopher Spitzmiller’s Upper East Side apartment, featured in New York Social Diary, and Steven Gambrel’s Greenwich Village townhouse, featured in Habitually Chic.

Absent an entryway in my own home, I do have an entry area, and I recently added a detail which is much more impactful than I would have believed possible: potpourri.  

I’m serious.

To give credit where it’s due, the potpourri suggestion came from Rita Konig (in Domestic Bliss, an actual book – no link!).  Her logic, which was good enough to persuade me to at least give it a try, was basically this:

• Entering a home that smells lovely is a luxury worthy of some investment.
• Candles are okay for when you have guests (and even then, I think sometimes a little over-the-top), but they obviously aren’t already lit when you come home from a long day at work, and are most wanting your home to provide some luxurious comfort.
• Even the most high-end, luxurious potpourri really isn’t that expensive relative to the price of literally burning through high-end candles.  Good quality potpourri can provide daily happiness for minimal daily cost.

To be really clear, the potpourri we’re talking about is not the stuff that’s sold at craft stores.  I’m sure it’s possible to make good potpourri yourself, though this isn’t something I’ve tried, but if you’re purchasing it pre-made, this is a case of go big or go home.  I bought Agraria, which makes a variety of different scents, and also sells coordinating “refresher” oils.  Agraria products are sold a lot of places, and online, but if you’re in New York, I’d recommend an in-person visit to Bergdorf Goodman.  Because if you can complete an even vaguely legitimate household errand on the 7^th floor of Bergdorf, why wouldn’t you?

I installed the potpourri in a vase literally right next to the front door.  While its introduction to the home originally resulted in some eye-rolling from Bertessa… a few weeks of subtle, balanced, life-enhancing fragrance as we enter and leave the home has won everyone over to its benefits.  All in the name of (the right) milieu.

Potpourri in the entry area

A previous TR post referenced my desire to rearrange the side tables in the living room.  This was true, but my vision was more ambitious than that.  The last couple of weeks saw the reconfiguring not just of side tables (which is still not complete, perhaps a subject for another day), but also a fair amount of art reframing and rehanging, and the piece de resistance: wallpaper in the dining room.

Our dining room, which we generally call the “center room,” is so-named because it’s in the (umm) center of our apartment.  Everything connects to it – the living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and front door.  It’s the dining room, but it’s also the entryway, my office, a hallway of sorts… we ask a lot of it.  And because it’s the center of everything and visible from everywhere, I want it to look good.

In the 15 months we’ve lived in this apartment, I have painted the center room 3 times – and while Tessa did not actually participate in these projects (he “does not paint”), they were nonetheless extremely unpopular with him.  Sort of understandably.  So when I casually floated the idea of wallpapering over the room’s pale gray paint with something more bold, I was surprised when he responded pretty positively.

See below for the finished product:

I think it looks fantastic!!!

I love that the pattern is strong and modern, but also sort of calming.

I also think it’s brilliant that somehow, the wallpaper is an ideal rococo reinterpretation of our silver pattern, Gorham Strasbourg.  The connection between the two designs is remarkably satisfying to me, although others may be forgiven for not noticing.

The way silver used to be sold – v. cool

See the matching swirls and shell shapes?

Where does one find the ice tongs with the clawed bird foot?

The wallpaper I put up is actually temporary – it’s called Tempaper, and more or less works like Contact paper.  You peel the paper backing off of it, and then just stick it on the wall.  Since we rent our apartment, temporary wallpaper is great in the sense that we may actually get our security deposit back when we move out.  This is huge. 

The reviews I read before I bought it were basically 100% positive, but I personally would only give the product a B+.  Because it’s thinner than actual paper, the walls need to be really smooth for the finished product to look really smooth (which our plaster, pre-war, barely-restored walls certainly are not).  And because the adhesive on the back isn’t as sticky as paper+glue, it is impossible to have as clean, as sharp, and as totally secure edges.  It’s actually more difficult to put up than real wallpaper, since it’s more fragile.

BUT – to bring it full circle – I love the pattern, and think that the center room finally pulls together and anchors the rest of the apartment with the kind of style I wanted it to have.  Even its temporaryness is kind of comforting in that if I do change my mind and feel inspired to try something new (and to take a more kamikaze approach to our security deposit recovery mission) … the milieu-enhancing aesthetic experimentation can continue!