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Six Degrees of Separation, and an Exquisite Meal

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Image Credit: A Mythical Monkey Writes about the Movies

A Seven-Star Meal (Five for the Food, plus Grant and Ashmore) in Palm Springs

A Chicagoan Uses Bourbon to Rehydrate against the Desert Heat, before Falling Face Forward into the Most Amazing Lamb He’s Had in Ages

Copley’s on Palm Canyon

Once Cary Grant’s guest house, now a restaurant. In Palm Springs style, it’s half indoors, half outdoors. Also in Palm Springs style, a movie star, Shawn Ahsmore, was seated a few tables away – I’m pretty sure it was Shawn … could’ve been Aaron. God only knows which stars I might’ve been sitting near had I occupied this spot in Cary’s day: Ethel Barrymore, Ingrid Bergman, Marlene Dietrich, either of the Hepburns, Grace Kelly, Jayne Mansfield, Rosalind Russell. Add that to the people Shawn knows – Hugh Jackman, Anna Paquin, Patrick Stewart, Halle Barry, Lucy Liu, Stockard Channing, Stan Lee, Isabella Rossellini, Tim Curry – and I felt like I was six degrees of separation from the entire firmament!

The Woodford Manhattan

• Woodford Manhattan: Woodford Reserve Bourbon, Fee Bros. West Indian Orange Bitters, garnished with an authentic Maraschino cherry. Without vermouth? Yes. Starts out wet, then flushes with a long, dry, woody finish that gives way to a bitterness, which in turn intensifies all the way through the aftertaste. It’s an understated, serious man’s drink.

I started my meal this way. I’ve been drinking Manhattans with bitters since I was a kid. Usually, when you ask for bitters you get Angostura – which is fine. Back in the day, orange bitters was the go-to. Whereas cherry (in the traditional maraschino, and well as the splash that I usually request) amplifies a whiskey’s sweetness, orange flattens it out and leaves you with more of the wood. An “authentic” maraschino is not what you’re thinking of right now. Number one, it’s not a bright, clown-nose red. It’s a very dark, dull, gray-red. Its stem is stiff and wooden – a lot like a toothpick. It is a whole, Croatian cherry that has been preserved in a liqueur made from the same variety of cherry. It is not sweet; it’s kind of bittersweet.

• Hawaiian Ahi Tacos: Tuna tartar, avocado, and green onion, tossed in ginger-soy dressing. Presented in a sesame-miso shell, orange and light green Tobiko caviar on the side. Yes, go back and read that list of ingredients again. Amazing. Rich. Delicious. The appetizer includes two of them, and their small – but they’re so rich, one is enough. Perfect for a party of two.
• Copley’s Caesar Salad: Hearts of Romaine, smoked apple bacon, shaved padano cheese, pineapple croutons. Since I was dining in a former movie star’s guest house, a Caesar salad seemed like a must-have. It’s not a classic Caesar, but its difference is refreshing. Visually, the salad seems to spill from a cornucopia fashioned of red cabbage. The warm croutons aren’t juicy as much as they are tender, inside a dry, breaded exterior. Their sweetness is a refreshing contrast to the bitter greens.
• Roasted Colorado Lamb Rack: Minted sweet pea and goat cheese mashed potato, sautéed baby carrots, grilled eggplant, merlot reduction. Four surprisingly large, meaty ribs, beautifully charred, juicy and succulent. The texture was unimaginable; if you’ve never had Colorado lamb, you need to catch up. The mint worked well with the potato. The carrots were truly sautéed (read “crunchy”). The eggplant was lost on me.

The Patio at Copley’s. When Cary owned the place, this was where the pool was.

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Also Recommended – if you have room for dessert, try Rich Valrhona Chocolate Mousse Cake with coffee-scented ice cream and chocolate sauce. It’s rich, but it’s a good rich. If You Can’t Eat Out for Every Meal – Ralph’s has a good selection of the type of food you’d bring back to your hotel room to nosh on when you need to come in from the pool and get out of that hot, hot sun: vodka, brie, French bread, paté, and Pop Tarts (request a toaster for the room). However, it’s one of those stores that jacks up the prices and then forces you to use a “Ralphs’ card” in order to get a reasonable price (which they have the balls to call a “sale” price). And they do this with shameful markups. The grocers in Chicago have given up on this dastardly practice, thank God. So, before shopping, ask the concierge if they have a card you can borrow, or at the checkout, beg and plead and tell them you’re from out of town. On the right side of the Mississippi (and by that, I mean the correct side), we don’t have Jacks in the Box, and that’s OK with me. The fries are heavy with grease. The burger is basted with butter – which I liked, but when you add that to the greasy fries, that’s a lot of fat. Plus, they’ve totally abandoned that old Jack in the Box head statue that used to grace the drive-through yet still graces some of my nightmares.

Credits for all images on this page: hover over image. Hover over and then click green text. Go ahead. You know you want to.

Shawn & Aaron Ashmore

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