I spotted the first two at the airport on the goddamn 6AM out of SeaTac. Then another at Louis Armstrong International. In the half-block walk from my hotel to the historic Hotel Monteleone – host of the famous Carousel Bar where the Vieux Carré originated, home away from home to Faulkner, Hemingway,Tennessee Williams and birthplace of Truman Capote¹, — I couldn’t keep count of them. They flowed by like tourist trap billboards on a cross country trip: First light then every minute, promising comfort and history and authenticity.

[Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone, New Orleans]

Some of these men in their straw hats deliver, sharing their experiences, research or a raunchy story about a nun, a rabbi and a politician. And some of these men simply emulate the first group the way a young man or woman wears the jersey of their favorite player. But then there are the few who wear the straw hat as some sort of crest or insignia that implies membership in an elite group. It has the whiff of the scraggly guy behind a paintball concessions stand, wearing one of his numerous Navy S.E.A.L. t-shirts. While there’s no question about his enthusiasm, I’m certain he’s aligned with half-a-dozen things that drag us all down— the least of which being snobbery and the worst being ignorance.

These hats are a little easier to spot. They’re branded by a major label but still, there are plenty of freshly mustachioed faces in unmarked hats there only for the party. One day in the distant future, like next summer, they’ll regale themselves with tales of the life of an açai cocktail evangelist or buy their first German car with their bonus for selling low-cal cocktail mixers. That’s my hope anyways: That these people I’ve built up in my head are in it for the short run and have little to nothing to do with the return of a good drink.

Take the Vieux Carré. It’s reminiscent of a sazerac, because of the rye, an a la Louisiane² thanks to the Benedictine and even an old fashioned in its balance.

Vieux Carré

1/2 teaspoon Benedictine
dash Peychaud
dash Angostura
1/3 shot each rye whiskey, cognac and dry vermouth

Place all ingredients into a mixing glass, stir and serve on the rocks with a twist of lemon.³

I’m not going to lie, it’s a little weird. There’s a lot going on in the glass and the flavor of Benedictine is distinct. If mixing your own, go easy on the Benedictine and add more if that’s your thing. Done right, this drink delivers as much comfort, history and authenticity as the French Quarter for which it’s named.

This is the second in a five-part story about my first trip to New Orleans for Tales of the Cocktail 2011. Part 1

Posted at 3:08pm and tagged with: Albert,.