The best lesson this week of these really exhausting GM Olympics may be the (re)affirmation that taking a chance, getting out of a rut, and trying something new, generally has a big payoff.
Case(s) in point:
Foreign & Domestic: Hung in despite the insane heat and my almost irrational, probably mostly hormonal, crankiness. Though in retrospect, and after conversing with a couple seated next to us at the communal table at Lenoir Restaurant this past Saturday night (don't go, terrible, awful place, and you'll just be taking up the seat that I want to have there every week to enjoy what is, really a little Verjus (i.e., Paris Verjus), on South 1st in Austin, Texas....), F&D is really pricey. That will not keep from getting back there for the Fried Chicken Biscuit (Fried Egg, Black Pepper-Cheddar Biscuit, Romaine Slaw, Lemon Jam).
Central Market; l'Aperitif: Hung in there too. Met some nice people, spoke some French, got a restaurant tip for inexpensive cous cous in Paris, and learned how someone from France could end up in such a random place as Lubbock, Texas.
Tigress: We almost didn't go. Almost went back into a rut. The dilemma was that it was after-work Friday afternoon cocktails. We were hungry. But it was too early for dinner (6 pm). I did not know if Tigress had food of any kind. Suspected it did not have any food. Came so very close to just taking a right turn from 45th to head toward Vino Vino. But in the end said what the heck. This is all about breaking out and trying something new. So I took a left from 45th to head toward West North Loop.
Parking is interesting. By that I mean challenging. Finding Tigress in the first place is challenging. There is no sign. Their web site shows a picture of the brown concrete block box of a building, with non-descript glass and metal door like you would have to any run-of-the-mill commercial building storefront.
I park in a questionable spot. We walk in.
Hmm. This is interesting. The immediate feel is brown, orange, vinyl, and a little clubby because of the hum of regulars at the bar. And it looks uncomfortable with just a few square bar stools with no backs, and precious few tables.
We sit. We peruse the menu. We figure out we need to go up to the bar to order. There is a friendly gracious blond behind the bar, cleaning glasses, measuring bright colored liquids into glasses, and chatting warmly and unpretentiously with those right there at the small bar.
The first round:
Moulin Rose (for me) (Tenneyson Absinthe, maraschino liqueur, simple syrup, lemon juice, fresh watermelon juice)
The Slingshot (Paula’s Texas orange, Paula’s Texas lemon, tequila, lemon juice,orange bitters, Peychards bitters, topped off with some Topo-Chico soda water)
On first sip, mine seemed overly sweet. That maraschino liqueur for sure. But it grew on me. And grew and grew. I realize I picked it because of the name - French-sounding of course, but also because of the allure of absinthe and the fact that it reminded me of New Orleans. But being a French major, my English literature knowledge is weak. On seeing Tenneyson in the description of the drink, I wrongly thought of Tennessee Williams. Literary Melissa, however, begins describing the oeuvre of (British poet) Lord Alfred Tennyson, including quoting a few lines of selected poems. Turns out Lord Alfred was a pretty avid absinthe drinker. But wrong on this front too. The name of this brand of absinthe has nothing to do with anybody literary - but it is French. Tenneyson Absinthe, I learn, is "[d]istilled in the historic Distillerie Les Fils d'Emile Pernot, located just outside Pontarlier in Eastern France ... formulated by David Nathan-Maister, author of The Absinthe Encyclopedia, and produced by Master Distiller Dominique Rousselet."
I am enchanted by the gorgeous cut of the stem on this glass (above). I consider collecting vintage glassware. This is truly the way to enjoy drinking such a lovely and thoughtfully composed cocktail.
By now I am realizing that there is a Tarzan movie showing on the small flatscreen in the place. Original 1930s stuff. By now we are hooked. On the place. So not pretentious. Not stuffy. Not clubby or unwelcoming as such a neighborhood trendy place could possibly be. And by now the place is packed. Standing room only. I wonder where all these people parked....
Must definitely try another round.
The Corpse Reviver (for me) (Waterloo Gin, orange liqueur, lemon juice, and a few drops of Absinthe)
The Pegu club (Waterloo gin, Grand gala, lime juice, Angostura bitters)
It must have been warm and friendly owner Pam who brought these cocktails over. I tell her how much I love the glasses. She tells me that this one, the one holding my yellow-hued Corpse Reviver, is on its last legs. It is one of her very favorites. Maybe the favorite. But it is so delicate that every time she washes it she wonders if that will be the last time and prepares herself for the loss. I move it closer to the middle of the very small table. No way I'm going to be the last person to enjoy a cocktail out of this very delicate glass, with tiny etchings of flowers and such a thin stem.
And so The Tigress ranks way up there: for lovely cocktails, enjoyed in vintage glassware, surrounded by brown, orange, and vinyl and a really diverse group of people - and maybe no one but me mesmerized by how shockingly racy the 1930s black & white Tarzan films are.
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