Nothing like a bloody Mary to get your brunch on. I decided I'd order myself one of Peels' bloodies with extra olives on my first day in NYC.
Man, was it ever so spicy. Tons of horseradish to invigorate the soul.
I figured I'd filled my quota for bloodies that weekend. But when I went to go meet my ex-cook pal at Marc Forgione's in Tribeca the next day, I spied this at the bar: Grandma Forgione's spicy bloody Mary.
Stuffed to the gills with everything but the kitchen sink: citrus slices, a pickled jalapeno, shrimp, an olive and a chunk of dill havarti, it was practically a meal unto itself. And it had my name on it.
One recent afternoon, I talked to the bartender and bar manager at Bar Agricole about this fantabulous creation and got the smackdown "it doesn't fit our aesthetic" retort. Undeterred, I replied, "Ah, you think my taste runs towards trashy. That's cool." They were quick to deny it, afraid they'd insulted a guest (me). I didn't mind. Instead, I switched gears and made a pitch for getting a spicy bloody with a single shucked oyster floating on top—a la the Hundred Acres version, which I'd had the last time I was in NY. I'm hoping someone's gonna catch on in SF. The Bar Agricole folks perked up a bit, saying that sounded more in line with what they did. Sigh. If not Bar Agricole, then maybe Foreign Cinema? Hmmm ...