Showing posts with label Red Monkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Red Monkey. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Martini


I pick up martini’s signature glass, not spilling a drop. I hold it religiously, savoring the ancient scents from antique juniper glades – and it transports. I dance back into my youth, long before debilitating aches. I am lusty once again, filled with strength, with a fertile mind and body, with the ability to race and jump. Old memories leap forward: Vivian and I sipping martinis on Snoopy’s[i] quiet pier watching the gulls hover over Texas wetlands, with Bob and Anne Marie at Morell[ii] in Manhattan, or just relaxing before a winter fire in our Wilmington home library 

A martini is simply the mating of gin and dry vermouth, generally in Fibonacci proportions, of one to eight, but its assembly requires careful attention. No water. No camouflaging flavors. And careful engineering and some ceremony.  

The epitome of ceremony:  While at a very fine hotel in Barcelona, that ancient world of elegant artistry, we watched as two white coated waiters rolled out a finely carved oak table draped in starched white linen, on which rested a single thin martini glass and one lemon. To the martini glass, Juan added ice and a splash of water while Luis assisted me in picking out my gin and finding out whether I preferred it classical, dry or dirty. I prefer classical; I want to be able to feel the vermouth. Taking up the lemon, two shallow shavings were removed. Juan pared one down to a long thin zest, the other he left whole. Gin and a bit of vermouth were added to a dry canister.  The slush in the martini glass was thrown out and the chilled glass wiped dry. The wider lemon peel was flicked across the rim leaving a thin coat of lemon oil.  Juan dropped a few ice cubes into the gin-vermouth mixture and stirred it quickly, poured it into the dry glass while Luis lifted up the thin, lemon zest, twirled it around his finger, and dropped it into the glass where it uncoiled gracefully. Then they both paused, standing at attention, allowing the various flavors to get acquainted. Juan brought over a small white napkin which he centered precisely in front of me and onto which Luis ceremoniously placed the martini. I placed two fingers on each side of the rim, raised the martini, slowly drew in the power of the junipers, took a small sip, rolled it in my mouth, bathing each taste bud, sighed, and then applauded the artist for a drink well made.  Exquisitely made indeed. 

Bar tenders relax.  Americans prefer far less pomp – but a good martini requires the same basic steps in this order: a) chilled martini glass; b) good gin and vermouth mixed together, c) ice added, then stirred, d) quick decanting and e) a garnish added. Note, though it seems counter intuitive, the ice must be added to the liquid, never the other way around. The gin and ice should never be allowed to just sit while a busy bar keep attends to others. It is stirred, never shaken; shaking only splinters the ice which then melts in the glass. Water kills a martini. 

Garnishes:
·         Must there be a lemon? What about olives or pickled onions? Preferences here depend on the individual – and on the gin. I prefer to complement the simplicity of Tanqueray with a “wet olive,” one dipped first in its own juices. If the only gin available is cheap and harsh, then add olive juice to make a “dirty martini,” the salt buffers the rough edges.  For more complex gins, such as Hendriks with its hints of rose petals and cucumber, I prefer the simple zest of lemon. Blue Cheese olives are delightful, except for the oil slick they leave behind. My brother favors Garlic stuffed olives, not I. With a pickled onion, known as a Gibson (martini), one gets a bit of sweetness, the better the pickling, the better the Gibson.
 
Gins:
·         Martinis require the mystical kiss of juniper, as found in a fine gin - not vodka. Gin alone holds the juniper power, the dulcet melody, and the magic of a really fine martini. The choice of gins is vast.  I prefer Tanqueray or Hendricks. Even in North Carolina’s ABC stores, one has the choice of 14 imported gins and 34 domestics, including 4 distilled in our state.  The only local gin I’ve tasted is Cardinal and I found its herbals far too raw. 

Pet Peeves:
·         Water in the gin: the elegant and venerable Fairmount in Boston go so far that it serves the martini in a carafe that they have allowed to cool in a bowl of shaved ice, never abused by water.
·         Olives strung out across the rim. It’s pretty but adds nothing to the taste.  I prefer my olive dipped first in its juice and then sunk to the bottom.
·         Half-filled glasses: a martini glass is designed to vent the juniper aroma, it needs to be full.  Unfortunately, North Carolina, with its prohibitionist mind-set, limits the ounces per drink.  If a bar uses a standard size martini glass, it will be only half filled.  Some, like Red Monkey, have begun using smaller stem-less glasses. Inelegant? Yes.  But given the limits on pourage, they provide a better taste. 

Food Pairings.
·         Bread is a natural.  I especially enjoy a basket of freshly made Louisiana hush puppies.
·         Avoid anything oily, vinegary or spicy-hot; like dreadful siblings they vie too hard for your attention. 

Recommendations:
·         My best ever martini in Raleigh was at Vivaci[iii], a fluke it has yet to  replicate. Betski’s[iv] and Holly’s[v] also do a good job, with direction. Get to know your bartender. I recommend Zack Vile at Red Monkey[vi]; Tony Coulter at Bloomsbury[vii] or Aaron Squires at Irregardless[viii]. I only make a reservation if the receptionist can guarantee a favored bar tender. And, I try to tip accordingly.

 



[i] Snoopy's Pier, 13313 S Padre Island Dr, Corpus Christi, TX 78418     snoopysrestaurant.com
[ii] Morrell Wine Bar & Café, 1 Rockefeller Plz, New York, NY 10020     morrellwine.com
[iii] Vivace, 4209 Lassiter Mill Rd, Ste 115, Raleigh, NC 27609   www.vivaceraleigh.com
[iv] J Betski's, 10 W Franklin St Ste 120, Raleigh, NC 27604.    jbetskis.com
[v] Holly’s on Hargett (formerly called Mo's Diner), 306 E Hargett St, Raleigh, NC 27601.     www.mosdiner.net
[vi] Red Monkey Tavern, 4325 Glenwood Ave S Ste 2079, Raleigh, NC 27612    redmonkeytavern.com
[vii] Bloomsbury Bistro, 509 W Whitaker Mill Rd Ste 101, Raleigh, NC 27608     www.bloomsburybistro.com
[viii] Irregardless Café, 901 W Morgan St, Raleigh, NC 27603     www.irregardless.com
 
 

Friday, November 21, 2014

RED MONKEY TAVERN


Luck was a lady that night.

Before retiring to Raleigh, we lived in NY/NJ and then DC, both areas rich in restaurants of all prices and ethnic varieties.  We enjoyed “regular” status in both areas, and even garnered good friends from waiters there, one whom my wife even invited to our daughter’s wedding.  Moving to Raleigh to be close to family meant we gave up a lesser benefit for the greater – and yet we yearned for the cozy, emotionally satisfying feeling of a restaurant we liked, whose management and waiters knew us, and to which we could escape as we needed. 

We accidentally fortuned onto Red Monkey. Impatient with the long line at Crabtree Mall’s Cheesecake Factory, we journeyed next door.  Though Red Monkey’s parking lot entrance gets eclipsed by the jazz of its neighbor, don’t pass it by.  If you’re in the Mall look for the spiffy red bi-wing plane that hangs over its mall entrance.

Inside, the club like atmosphere beckons one to enter a world of imagination and delight, where quality trumps excess quantity.  An incised red arabesque swirls across the ceiling, beckoning exploration. I love the large bronze monkeys, especially the one golfing and another geared up in a Paddington coat. Nooks hold various whimsies, including a toy British double decker holding candy.  Antique lights and crystal chandeliers shine on portraits and posters of by-gone Hollywood stars. Everything seems a bit off center, even a bit hokey, but in its own asymmetric style, it all fits. Though the room tingles with the warm hubbub of groups having fun, the well-stuffed burgundy crescent banquettes and the high backed, mad-hatter chairs frame individual eating nooks for cozy, and intimate conversation.

After our first experience at Red Monkey, I read the reviews; not so great.  Several complained of the recent changes. Though retaining the five TVs over the bar, the Monkey, under manager Guy Meacham’s guidance, had metamorphosed from sports bar to chic restaurant frequented by families and couples. Never has Guy not been there to greet us; has he a bed in the basement? With mixed feelings the other night, we noted his success, every chair occupied. I hope the owners truly appreciate Guy; it is so easy to take such talent and work ethic for granted.

Last Saturday, I called to reserve a banquette only to be told by Laura, in her truly gentle voice, that they did not take reservations. At my request, Guy came to the phone and said not to worry, there would be a table waiting for us.  When we got there, a hand-printed sign on the table read, “Reserved Headmaster.”  What a fleecy warm stroke to my ego.  I waved to Zack who tended bar; he waved a great smile back.  Young couples sat tête-à-tête; families gathered around the larger tables; and kids of all ages (even those sulky teen years) seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Patrick, our favorite waiter, was off that night; Daryl took his place.  He chatted with us and played a bit with Nicholas our three year old grandson, who had already informed me, “No cherries -- olives tonight.” Referencing the Manhattan I’d had a few nights back, he now staked claim to this night’s drink garnish.  As we all got settled, I took off with Nicholas to “interview” Zack.  Without slowing his pace, Zack managed to discuss the importance of Hemingway, bring another couple at the bar into our conversation, hand Nicholas a few more olives, and go on to recommend my reading Milan Kundera, a Czech now living in France and nominated several times for a Nobel Prize in literature.  What fun.  I so rarely get to talk about our literary world.  Red Monkey is quirkily confident enough to enjoy and keep a bartender so literate and engaging.  Guy hires great people, no mere tray holders or menu rattlers. Daryl, tonight’s waiter, presented well:  a warm, friendly smile accented by a short well-kept beard. Originally from the Princeton area of New Jersey, he and his wife have moved to Raleigh where he works in human relations with a large company.

Red Monkey’s menu strives for understated quality; the chef takes ordinary American dishes and amplifies them to high levels of excellence. My son, a food truck chef and owner, had the On the Border Burger ($12) which he raved about: great concept, great taste, juicy burger and fantastic fries.  His wife, a vegetarian, had the Rock Shrimp Bisque ($6) and the spinach and feta cheese South of the South Empanadas Haven ($10); three per plate, flaky dough, moist and savory.  My wife had the Lobster BLT ($18); my sister the Monkey Field Green Salad ($9).   Nicholas also had his usual, kid’s mac and cheese ($4.95), he loved them -- and so did the rest of us.  Tonight I decided against my very favorite, Harrys Carpaccio Rustic ($12), in order to try the Braised Beef Ribs ($22) with its rich mushroom and onion gravy. A real delight.

Our only mishap that evening came when Nicholas accidentally spilled a glass of water all over the table (and my wife).  We all jumped, startling him to tears; others at the table proffered napkins, which proved useless being the non-absorbent, no-iron variety.  Neither Guy, at the far end of the restaurant, nor Daryl, in the kitchen checking on an order, could come to our rescue.  This left only the nearby door receptionists, who produced an unopened package of bathroom hand towels.

This review has been difficult to write.  Witty and acidic come easily; praise not so much. Red Monkey is our go-to place, our Cheers. I hate malls and rarely shop there, we actually go there for the food and the company. To quote its website, “The red monkey has seen the world beneath the wings of his one man biplane. He comes back home to relax in this home away from home with family and friends!”


Red Monkey Tavern is located in Crabtree Mall. 919-896-7412.  http://redmonkeytavern.com