The Uptown Manhattan

While I was writing my ode to my Nespresso machine, it occurred to me that I should also talk about my lifechanging cocktail experience in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago.

I'm in San Francisco once or twice a year, and I almost always stay at the Westin St. Francis on Union Square. It's a Starwood property, and it's conveniently located, and did I mention it's a Starwood property? The bar in the hotel was never anything to get too excited about -- just a place to meet before you left the hotel to get drinks.

Well, recently, the WSF redid their lobby bar and rechristened it as the Clock Bar. It's really mod, and the waitresses are all glamazons. The Clock Bar offers their twist on a lot of classic cocktails as well as some really interesting new ones, and they have amazing truffle popcorn on the appetizer menu, which you should totally get if you're there -- well worth the $10 (it seems like a lot, but it will take everything you have not to lick the bowl when you're done eating the popcorn), but the thing that swept me off my feet was the Uptown Manhattan.

I stupidly ordered a Dark and Stormy first, forgetting that most bars don't stock a spicy enough ginger beer to make that worthwhile. It was ok, but not anything special, so I took another look at the menu and saw the Uptown Manhattan: Maker's Mark bourbon, Amaro Nonino (a delicious, Italian, herbal liqueur), orange bitters, and cherry brandy. I ordered it, and it was probably one of the best decisions of the year.

I took a sip and was transported to a magical land where it was just me and my Uptown Manhattan. You know how in the movies, there'll be that moment when the main couple see each other and hear birds sing and can't see anything but each other? Sadly, I had that moment in San Francisco with a cocktail. I was torn between gulping it down as quickly as possible because it was so delicious and only drinking a tiny drop at a time because I didn't want it to go away. I ordered two that evening, and two more on each of the following evenings. I would have loved to have drunk 3, but I was afraid it was going to involve some serious pain that would damage our perfect relationship.

I asked for the recipe, and the glamazon expressed a little bit of doubt that they'd share, but sure enough, she came back with the recipe written out for me on a slip of cash register paper. I laminated it at Kinko's. For reals. I'm crap at making cocktails (opening a bottle of wine is easier), but come mid-December, when the weather finally goes below 60 degrees in Houston, and I'm finally off the road, I'm going to make a pilgrimage to the liquor store and find all the ingredients and make myself some Uptown Manhattans. And if I'm successful, you should probably start a fund for me to go to the Betty Ford Clinic.