lsanderson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lsanderson) wrote2007-12-02 08:48 am
lsanderson) wrote2007-12-02 08:48 am
Here's one for you wine and coke lovers out there, plastic shopping bag optional
Shaken And Stirred
If Bacchus Drank Cola
By JONATHAN MILES
THE Calimocho served at Pamplona, the recently revamped Spanish restaurant on East 28th Street formerly known as Ureña, is not made in the traditional way. That is to say, it isn’t mixed in a plastic shopping bag.
A Calimocho (also spelled Kalimotxo) is a 50/50 mixture of red wine and Coca-Cola — I will pause here to allow some readers to grimace — favored by Spanish youth looking for a sweet, cheap buzz. Teenagers will sometimes mix the wine and Coke by swishing them in a plastic grocery bag for distributing at botellones, makeshift parties held in parks and other public spaces.
The drink was supposedly created — or at least named — at a festival in Algorta, Spain, in 1972, when some young entrepreneurs discovered that the wine they had planned to sell tasted not just bad but toxic, and added Coca-Cola-and ice to mask the flavor. It was an improbable hit.
It’s an improbable hit at Pamplona, as well, where the chef and owner Alex Ureña breaks further with tradition by adding a grown-up shot of rum. “It’s kind of weird,” Mr. Ureña admits. “People see wine and Coke together and they think, ooh, that’s going to taste bad.”
It doesn’t, though the taste is one that could be politely termed “acquired.” I’m reminded of John Steinbeck’s description of drinking a martini in “The Winter of Our Discontent”: “The first taste bit like a vampire bat, made its little anesthesia, and after that the drink mellowed and toward the bottom turned downright good.” That’s about right: vampire bat to downright good. Think sangria without the fruitiness, or, in Mr. Ureña’s version, a rum-and-Coke spiked with grape-y tannins. Like the teenage years themselves, it’s simple-minded but mystifying.
At Pamplona, Mr. Ureña said, the Calimocho appeals to “people who drink vodka or something like gin and tonics.” In other words, not wine drinkers, for whom adulterating wine with Coca-Cola is akin to punk blasphemy. (Speaking of punk, the drink appears to be a muse for Spanish punk bands, with several songs having been written in its honor. “Kalimotxo,” recorded in 2005 by the Madrid band Porretas, is a plain awesome drinking song.)
It’s an affront to the wine only if you’re using the wrong wine. Calimocho wine should be “strong and dry,” according to Mr. Ureña, or, if you wish to follow botellón tradition, harsh and cheap. The kind of wine that begs for a little helping hand.
One measure of a cocktail’s drinkability is its universality, and here the Calimocho scores big. In Chile and Argentina, a red-wine-and-Coke combination is known as a jote; in Croatia, it’s a bambus; in Germany, a kora or korea. Go ahead and grimace, if you like. But the world will keep on drinking.
CALIMOCHO Adapted from Pamplona
1 ounce Coca-Cola
2 ounces Rhum Clement V.S.O.P. rum
2 ounces rioja or other dry red wine.
Combine the ingredients in a tall glass filled with ice, and serve.
Yield: 1 serving.
If Bacchus Drank Cola
By JONATHAN MILES
THE Calimocho served at Pamplona, the recently revamped Spanish restaurant on East 28th Street formerly known as Ureña, is not made in the traditional way. That is to say, it isn’t mixed in a plastic shopping bag.
A Calimocho (also spelled Kalimotxo) is a 50/50 mixture of red wine and Coca-Cola — I will pause here to allow some readers to grimace — favored by Spanish youth looking for a sweet, cheap buzz. Teenagers will sometimes mix the wine and Coke by swishing them in a plastic grocery bag for distributing at botellones, makeshift parties held in parks and other public spaces.
The drink was supposedly created — or at least named — at a festival in Algorta, Spain, in 1972, when some young entrepreneurs discovered that the wine they had planned to sell tasted not just bad but toxic, and added Coca-Cola-and ice to mask the flavor. It was an improbable hit.
It’s an improbable hit at Pamplona, as well, where the chef and owner Alex Ureña breaks further with tradition by adding a grown-up shot of rum. “It’s kind of weird,” Mr. Ureña admits. “People see wine and Coke together and they think, ooh, that’s going to taste bad.”
It doesn’t, though the taste is one that could be politely termed “acquired.” I’m reminded of John Steinbeck’s description of drinking a martini in “The Winter of Our Discontent”: “The first taste bit like a vampire bat, made its little anesthesia, and after that the drink mellowed and toward the bottom turned downright good.” That’s about right: vampire bat to downright good. Think sangria without the fruitiness, or, in Mr. Ureña’s version, a rum-and-Coke spiked with grape-y tannins. Like the teenage years themselves, it’s simple-minded but mystifying.
At Pamplona, Mr. Ureña said, the Calimocho appeals to “people who drink vodka or something like gin and tonics.” In other words, not wine drinkers, for whom adulterating wine with Coca-Cola is akin to punk blasphemy. (Speaking of punk, the drink appears to be a muse for Spanish punk bands, with several songs having been written in its honor. “Kalimotxo,” recorded in 2005 by the Madrid band Porretas, is a plain awesome drinking song.)
It’s an affront to the wine only if you’re using the wrong wine. Calimocho wine should be “strong and dry,” according to Mr. Ureña, or, if you wish to follow botellón tradition, harsh and cheap. The kind of wine that begs for a little helping hand.
One measure of a cocktail’s drinkability is its universality, and here the Calimocho scores big. In Chile and Argentina, a red-wine-and-Coke combination is known as a jote; in Croatia, it’s a bambus; in Germany, a kora or korea. Go ahead and grimace, if you like. But the world will keep on drinking.
CALIMOCHO Adapted from Pamplona
1 ounce Coca-Cola
2 ounces Rhum Clement V.S.O.P. rum
2 ounces rioja or other dry red wine.
Combine the ingredients in a tall glass filled with ice, and serve.
Yield: 1 serving.