A Visit to Napoleon House

I am never long in New Orleans before a pay a call on Napoleon House and order a Pimm's Cup. I love an old bar with history. And I dearly love an old bar with history that is also known for one particular drink.

At the Napoleon House, it's the Pimm's Cup. A peculiar drink for such a manly bar to be famous for, but there you have it. The bartenders here doll them out by the dozens. I would wager that hundreds are sold every day and that the bar has the biggest Pimm's account in the U.S.

However, the past couple years I have grown dissatisfied with the Napoleon House's Pimm's Cups. I remember being wowed the first time I sipped from this superbly refreshing mixture of Pimm's No. 1, lemonade and cucumber slice. But last year, the drink fell flat on my taste buds.

This may be because fresh-made lemonade is a bit of labor to make, so I tend to make my Pimm's Cups with ginger ale. This is a perfectly acceptable variation on the drink, and I have come to love it. Now, when I get a Pimm's made with lemonade, I'm always a bit let down. Ginger ale add more zip to the drink to my mind, whereas lemonade just sits there.

I have other problems with the Napoleon House Pimm's Cup. Their "house-made lemonade" sits in giant jugs until it's needed for the drink. So it's lost a bit of freshness before it's poured in the glass. The same goes for the cucumber slices, which I imagine are all cut up in the morning, and look a bit sad by mid-afternoon. It's not too much to ask for a fresh slice of cucumber to be cut with each drink.

Then there's the execution. A Napoleon House bartender will typically get an order for three or four Pimm's Cups at a time. He'll set the glasses up, one by one next to each other, then grip the Pimm's bottle in one fist and the lemonade jug in the other and star pouring away, filling up one glass, then the next, then the next. It's a very imprecise pour, so there's a fair amount of inconsistency to their Pimm's Cups.

Recently, I bellied up to the Napoleon bar and asks for a Pimm's Cup and specified ginger ale. The bartender said "OK," but them promptly forgot and made my with lemonade. It was passable at best.

The Man Who Sold America The Pimm's Cup?

I own an old book by Maurice Zolotow called "It Takes All Kinds." It's a collection of profiles of odd New Yorkers, published in 1952. One of the profiles is of one Jim Moran (1908-1999), an inventive and irrepressible publicity man.

According to this account, he was hired in 1949 to concoct a stunt that would get the Pimm's Cup—then without much of a following in the U.S.—into the newspapers. His scheme went like this. He contracted the services of band leader Alvino Rey, radio actor Herbert Evers, movie actress Ann Staunton and musical actress Nancy Andrews (using money as a lure, I imagine). He instructed Evers and Staunton to enter the posh East 55th Street Manhattan joint called the Little Club on June 15 around 2 AM and begin demanding Pimm's Cups. Fifteen minutes later, Rey and Andrews entered and ordered Pimm's Cups as well! Only Andrews specified, in a loud voice, that she wanted hers with a spring of mint.

At this request, Staunton pretended to high dudgeon! She argued that everyone in the world with a brain knows that a Pimm's Cup is only properly taken with a cucumber, not mint! Mind your own beeswax, answered Andrews. Evers exclaimed, "You can't talk to my friend like that!" Rey told Evers to back off. Then the food fight began! Staunton flug a cucumber at Rey. Rey punched Evers in the face (or pretended to). Evers fell down. The police were called. Rey was taken to the station house, where he was released on $500 bail (by Moran, in a beard).

The "incident" made the front page of the World-Telegram and the third page of the New York Sun, and got two columns in the Daily News. After that, it broke nationally, and everyone knew about the Pimm's Cup.

The Recession-Proof Bar

I put together this article for Time Out on how to best keep your home bar well-stocked without stinting on quality.

In the bag

A shrinking liquor budget doesn’t mean you have to drink rotgut at home. Stock your bar without emptying your wallet.

By Robert Simonson

RYE
When it comes to brown booze, single-malt Scotch and bourbon top the list in prestige and popularity. But they are also tops in price. Solution? Try rye, the world’s neglected whiskey. Though rye has recently enjoyed a resurgence, time-honored, quality brands like Old Overholt and Rittenhouse can still be had for under $20 a bottle. Either one makes a classic Manhattan.

BOURBON
For Southern-fried Kentucky Derby lovers who must have their precious bourbon, there’s a world beyond Maker’s Mark. An undersung industry standard like Elijah Craig can be found for around $20 a bottle. The even less celebrated but equally fine W.L. Weller Special Reserve is yours for roughly $17.

GIN
It’s vodka’s world; we just live in it. But there’s both a monetary and gastronomic reward in eschewing high-price boutique vodkas for entry-level gins. The basic offerings from Beefeater, Tanqueray and Bombay (not Sapphire!) are benchmark examples of London dry gin, and run only $18 to $25 for the 750-milliliter bottle. So save money and have a real martini for once.

RUM
If it’s a daiquiri you want, opt for Flor de Caña Extra Dry, a four-year-aged Nicaraguan white rum that puts Bacardi to shame in the flavor department. The floral, fruity rum is a mixologist favorite (it’s the well rum at Death & Company), and it sets you back only $16.

BRANDY
For the budget-conscious, French brandy is basically out of the question. But New Jersey apple brandy is well within your means. (Don’t laugh.) The bonded version of Laird’s applejack is lauded by spirits geeks as liquid gold. (The regular Laird’s is dreck.) And it costs only about $21.

VODKA
If you absolutely demand that your tipple be odorless and tasteless, how about giving the costly Ketel One and Grey Goose a pass in favor of the obscure Belgian brand White Nights? (Only $13 a bottle!) Sobieski, a Polish vodka made from rye, is an even better value: $11 a bottle. Believe me: You and your Cosmo will hardly know the difference.

AND MORE!
Hard times call for experimentation. So turn your attention to intoxicants you used to ignore, such as Pimm’s No. 1, a tasty, spiced, gin-based British elixir that runs around $20; or palate-stretching Italian amari and digestifs like Cynar, Averna and Aperol (most are under $25). They may strike you as bitter at first, but you’ll soon adjust. Sort of like the current economy, huh?