On Architectural Oversight and Aperitifs

In New York City, and I imagine part of the eastern seaboard, it had been snowing continuously for what seems to be no less than fifty-two hours. From what I saw out of window and from what the sushi delivery man relayed to me about the conditions, it is quite bad.

Despite Hector’s diatribe on city’s handling of the snow and the apparent conditions I decided to trek to the office today. After exiting the subway and walking down 53rd street past Park I was thankful to only almost fall no more than four times. Chelsea boots, although quite conducive to my normal assassin down the avenue, are not ideal for snowy pavement. Not really paying attention to anything as I was walking I approached my office building and stepped over a makeshift barrier of yellow caution tape as if that was normal and incredibly appropriate. I then looked around and I was surrounded by this tape and started to think why.

Conventional circumstances would probably cause someone to exit the area and examine the situation but I thought of it as prudent to observe from the inside out, not quite gonzo journalism but I think pretty close. It was then a large clump of snow came hurdling down and struck within the taped in area and exploded like an apache missile sending snow shrapnel in my direction.

I looked up and it was apparent what was happening. The architect clearly did not plan for the snow. Foolish and irresponsible, really. Everything is all in the details.

Let me explain.

My office building on Madison Avenue has a generous curve leading up to a 14th floor deck. From the 14th floor on the building straightens out and is perpendicular with the road. As the snow falls off the 14th floor deck it then hurdles down the ramp that is the curvature of the building and shuttles out into the splash zone.
I spent to long standing acting as a target for the snow. They don’t deserve that chance.

Anyway after finally arriving today it was apparent that I am the only person in the office. I turned on the lights, hung up my coat, and made myself a coffee. Sitting in my office sorting through emails, responding where appropriate, and turning on a copy of Rain Dogs by Tom Waits.

After a light lunch I turned to my bar and contemplated what I would make to drink. My home bar is meticulous arranged and plentiful. A cornucopia of vermouths, bitters, gins, scotch, rums, absinthes, velvet falernum, and most anything you could want. For late nights my bar in the office is appropriately stocked with miniature bottle versions of what I have at home.

Campari is an Italian vermouth with a deep, ruby red color and an appropriate amount of bitterness. The herbs in Campari and many types of vermouth are perfect for the aperitif. The aperitif is the first drink of the evening. It is how you should start not only a meal, but the night.

The aperitif is elegant. The aperitif is infinitely contemporary in its classicalness. The pre-dinner drink stimulates the appetite and conversations, what could be better. There is an implicit grace and civility in drinking with diligence and purpose. A traditional aperitif such as the Negroni is perfect. One drink is more than enough as you then venture on for a meal and have your pre dinner martini, followed by wine, followed by a glass of champagne with dessert, and a digestif.

The Negroni
• 2oz Plymouth Gin
• Slightly less than 2oz of Campari
• Slightly less than 2oz of Italian Vermouth (I enjoy Punt e Mes¹ or a Rosso)

In a cocktail shaker pour all of the ingredients with a few ice cubes and stir gently. This melts a small part of the ice without diluting the drink. In a rocks glass chisel one large ice cube. Traditionally the Negroni is served with an orange but I prefer a lemon twist. Twist the lemon over the ice to release the natural oils and run along the rim of the glass. Pour the stirred ingredients over and serve. The large ice cube is perfect for the purpose of the aperitif as it does not dilute the drink but over the course of conversation where a drink may be neglected it will appropriately soften the drink.


Oh and here is some more of my novel/screenplay

I was not looking forward to going to India but I was surprised when I got there. Just the idea of how many shots you need and the malaria pills really upset me.

-I didn’t take any shots

You didn’t? And then you have to take Malaria pills too.

-Oh, I didn’t take mine

Well I didn’t take mine either but I at least had them with me. Michael took his the entire time and they gave him horrible nightmares.

- To be fair we did buy the pills on the street and the gentleman did inform us that the cheaper pills would give us nightmares.

And then at first you think that monkeys are so incredible and you see them up close, and then you start feeling competitive with the monkeys and you realize they don’t really have your best interest at heart.



¹ Punt e Mes translates to "Point and a half," being about a point of sweetness and a half a point of bitterness. Halfway between Campari and Sweet Vermouth it is preferred for Negroni's adding a plesant savory bitterness