Long Live the Martini!

If you invented a time machine and traveled back 5 years, you might find a young Cresencio appreciating a deliciously cold Bud Light over a Carne Asada Torta from The Red Wave Inn in Fresno, Ca. Yes, it was a simple time, a wonderful time. A time of friends, college, cheap beer, and awesome pub grub. Back then, I was a naïve young lad and didn’t take the time to really appreciate what else existed in the foodie/bevie world. Little did I know that half a decade later, I would be writing about my absolute love for a new favorite drink, the martini.

It was 2006 and I was getting ready to catch the latest Bond film, Casino Royale. The flick was great, but one part in particular stuck with me the most. It was a quote, the sole reason that inspired me and got me hooked on my then, latest personal discovery.

“Dry Martini…Three measures of Gordon's; one of vodka; half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice, and add a thin slice of lemon peel.”

Sounded like 007 had it right with his signature “Vesper” Martini.

I wanted one. I wanted one just like it. Bond’s martini. So I tried it, a modified version, but tried nonetheless. As I raised the chilled glass up to my lips and got that initial aroma of complexity, my world changed and suddenly I was in a tuxedo. There was a gun in my sock and I was the chip leader at a high stakes poker table. I shook it off and proceeded to sip. Once the coveted liquor covered my taste buds, my tuxedo slowly started to vanish, and I was back in the faded button up shirt and the Express jeans I came to the bar wearing.

I remember thinking, “Wow, that wasn’t what I was expecting. That’s not good at all.”

Determined not to give up on the martini, I decided to take it a little easier. I made up a drink that I still order to this day and would recommend to anyone - something a little more novice.

In an order that would make Daniel Craig himself jealous, I calmly ordered.

“Excuse me. Can I get a martini, 1 part Disaronno, 2 parts Goose, splash of sweet vermouth, with a twist? Up please.” (The tuxedo was DEFINATELY back on at that moment).

It was a much better martini for a novice at the time - also a martini that even a pro could have appreciated. This very drink then launched me into my latest, long standing drinkie adventure. It sent me to a new world of class and sophistication. A world where the nice guy didn’t finish last. "A world of never-ending happiness, where you can always see the sun, day or night.” Where Sinatra tunes were the soundtrack to life, and everyone was wearing evening garb.

But how can one appreciate a martini without knowing its true origin? Well that can be difficult. According to Swankmartini.com, the martini can be credited to a few long standing claims. The first, and probably most popular, revolves around the city of Martinez, Ca. during the 1850s. It was there where gold prospectors ordered a drink named after the city. It contained gin, vermouth, bitters and Maraschino. Based on the ingredients, an evolution of the drink is definitely feasible. A simple tweek of the ingredients and BAM! You’ve got yourself a martini my friends.

Another theory comes out of San Francisco, from a one Jerry Thomas, bartender at the Occidental Hotel in the 19th century. Legend has it that this bartender is the rightful inventor of the famous drink, mixing gin and vermouth for his guests daily.

Nowadays, martinis come in various form. There are more choices in flavor, appearance, distinction, texture, garnishes, and price. One thing is for certain, the martini is one drink that has withstood time. In a changing alcohol culture of bartenders, sommeliers, mixologists, drinkologists, and this that and the other - along with its increasing popularity in movies, bars, and Rat Packs alike - there’s no question that the martini is the most popular drink of all time.

Don’t know where to start? I personally like to stick with a gin martini with little to no vermouth at all. A nice Sapphire, up with a twist does the trick, every time. Too simple? Most restaurants put their own spin on the martini. There is bound to be one out there that is just right for you. Just ask your local bartender. Most of them are just dying to show off their martini-making skills for you.

Cheers, Salud, Chin Chin, Prost, Salute, and Bottoms Up!

Don't Bug Me, I'm Eating

I thought not to write about this, but how can I not? It’s too good.

So Trish, my amazing girlfriend, and I are hanging out at home, both with the day off. This is a rare occasion, so to capitalize on this event, we decide to go on a couple of dates: a lunch date and a dinner date, followed by the flick, Quantum of Solace. In this story, I’ll only discuss lunch. Well, we decided we both wanted Chinese food. She knew of a great place on the corner of H and Alhambra called Shanghai Garden. So, of course, I’m game.

So we walk up to the building, and as I do with all restaurants in Sac, I take a personal second to search for the required posting for a passing score in their latest health inspection.

“Green…awesome…let’s eat,” I think as my concern is relieved.

We get our table, enjoy our tea, and place our orders. I can already taste the food. I was soooo hungry. She orders the Black Bean Chicken, and I get the Seseme Beef with steamed rice, and we share a bowl of Hot & Sour Soup.

So we’re sitting at this worn down looking table and finally get our soup. Believe me, we were both ready to dive into that sea of hot & sour soupy deliciousness. I take the first sip from those crazy boat-like looking spoons, and enjoy the warmth that the spice ingredients offer and the flavor of the sour. I’ve never liked hot and sour soup, but since Trish introduced it to me, I’ve been a fan. So we’re sitting there, enjoying ourselves, when I take another heaping scoop of what was supposed to be soup for TWO. I bring the mini boat-spoon to my lips and out of nowhere, through my super human peripheral vision, I spot an unknown object just about to high-five my upper lip. I bring the spoon to eye level in hopes that it was an ingredient that I was spotting.

“It must be a bamboo chute,” I thought, “Or maybe some ancient Chinese herb. Please let it be an herb.”

I looked closer, and as sure as the sky is blue, this unidentified object had big round eyes, six little black legs, and clear, dirty, disgusting wings. I retracted my head so fast from that spoon and immediately lost my appetite. Trish knew something was wrong by my expression, and I told her.

“There is a dead fly in my soup.”

There was a dead fly in my soup! Looking at me, laughing at me as though it got the last laugh in a string of practical jokes. If that fly were still alive I would have punched it in its dirty little fly face for ruining my meal. But it wasn’t. This fly was deceased, and it was marinating in the hot & sour herbs and spices that I was supposed to be enjoying.

And it gets better. I tell the server about this intruder of our meal, and he comes up with, “Ok, I’ll get you another soup.”

“Yeah, sure pal, sure chief! Just 86 the fly this time. That would be great. Thanks buddy.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! WOULD YOU EAT THIS?! GET OUT OF MY FACE YOU SERVER OF FLIES!!!” I thought. But instead, I kept my cool, and said, “No thanks, but please take it off our bill.”

We still tipped the guy. I mean, it wasn’t his fault. But needless to say, I will never go back to this place again.

Can you imagine if I didn’t see that fly? I would have eaten it, like it was chicken, or tofu. It kind of makes you think, how many times have you consumed that extra protein in your food without knowing? Just a little something to think about, or not.

Bleh…

HOLY FRIJOL-Y!!!

Is it just me, or are there no really good, authentic Mexican restaurants in Sacramento? I’ve tried a few places but they all seem to be nothing short of an El Pollo Loco or a Chipotle. Now don’t get me wrong, I love me some Chipotle, but I shouldn’t feel like I’m on a quest for food my mom can make right at home. The problem is my mother lives nearly 200 miles away. (However, that still didn’t stop me from getting two dozen of her annual homemade Christmas tamales.)

But alas! The quest comes near a close. Could it be possible that I have found the needle in a haystack? The Holy Grail, NAY! The Holy Frijol-y of them all? Well, I can’t say it’s the place I’ve been searching for since moving to Sac, but it did strike a chord in my foodie heart. It’s a place called Carmelita’s Mexican Restaurant.

Keep your eyes open on the corner of Fair Oaks and Sunrise, because this place really is a hidden gem. As you walk through the double doors, you are welcomed with the Latin sounds of Celia Cruz and Tito Puente, salsa music’s biggest stars. The décor is reminiscent of a vacation hot spot in Cancun, Mexico. Metal artwork, tropical green plants and hanging ripe mangos take you off to a far way land.

Fresh corn tortilla chips, zesty chipotle salsa and fresh pico de gallo await you as you are seated at your table. I suggest trying Carmelita’s Top Shelf Margarita, served with Cazadores Tequila Anejo. It wasn’t impressive at first, but boy, don’t let it fool you.

I had the tacos with carne asada served with beans and rice, which were nowhere near the flavor of what a taco truck can offer, but were still very delicious. The menu was simple, reasonable, and for the most part, all looked very tasty. They even had flan! You don’t see that too often in bigger Mexican food restaurants.

The wait staff was nice and attentive and the bartender was generous. I would definitely suggest this place to anyone looking for good Mexican food, and will honestly eat there again. However, my quest will continue in finding the Holy Frijol-y in Sac.

Family owned since 1962, with two locations in the Sacramento area:

Carmelita’s Mexican Restaurant
4071 Howard St.
Fair Oaks, CA 95628
(916) 961-3327

Or

204 Riverside Ave.
Roseville, CA 95678
(916) 783-0411