Vermouth

  Total time: 15 minutes, plus steeping time for the vermouth Servings: 10 Note: From Philip Ward of Death + Co. Tea-infused sweet vermouth 1 (750 ml) bottle Martini & Rossi vermouth Heaping 1/4 cup loose-leaf cinnamon-spiced tea 1. Pour the vermouth into a pitcher. Add the tea and set aside for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally. 2. Strain the infused vermouth using a fine-mesh strainer lined with cheesecloth and pour the vermouth back into the bottle.

The Spare Room at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel is a study in upper-crust drinking. It's the kind of bar that would be at home in F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby"; its patrons are often as dapper as that great writer and just as ambitious. In other words, the Spare Room is where young Hollywood does its fair share of seeing and being seen. Oh, and it bowls there too, at one of two shiny lanes overlooking Hollywood Boulevard. Which is why it's fitting that the Spare Room has launched a Wednesday evening special from 6 to 9 featuring $5 mini lobster rolls, half-price bowling, $3 cold beers and a $7 concoction called the Nantucket Sound.

Before chardonnay was as American as Coca-Cola, there was the cocktail. Ladies sipped sweet pink concoctions laced with gin--and real men drank martinis. Well, the cocktail's back. But who among us can whip up a pousse cafe, a Pernod frappe? Now comes the Bartender's Deck, 50 boxed cards revealing on their flip sides the secrets of everything from an Angel's Kiss to a Zombie.

In martinis, I've been enjoying the dry vermouth from the old French house of Dolin in Chambéry in the French Alps. But I recently tried Dolin's blanc (as opposed to dry) as an apéritif all on its own. Served on the rocks with a twist of lemon, it has a wonderfully complex taste, herbal but more sweet than medicinal. It tastes like a meadow full of wildflowers, refreshing and pure. And each small sip carries so much interest you tend to drink it more slowly than a glass of wine to make it last.

We have no quarrel with strawberry daiquiris, no complaint with pina coladas . Harvey Wallbangers and margaritas have their place. But when the order of the evening is elegance, it's time to call upon the classics. From left: the refreshing combination of bourbon and mint in a frosty Mint Julep; a Gin Rickey with its crisp tang of lime; a crystal-clear Gibson; a cool, citrusy Orange Blossom; a topaz-colored Manhattan, and the sweet secret of a fizzy Champagne Cocktail.

The Spare Room at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel is a study in upper-crust drinking. It's the kind of bar that would be at home in F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby"; its patrons are often as dapper as that great writer and just as ambitious. In other words, the Spare Room is where young Hollywood does its fair share of seeing and being seen. Oh, and it bowls there too, at one of two shiny lanes overlooking Hollywood Boulevard. Which is why it's fitting that the Spare Room has launched a Wednesday evening special from 6 to 9 featuring $5 mini lobster rolls, half-price bowling, $3 cold beers and a $7 concoction called the Nantucket Sound.

I am grateful to the contractor who reroofed our house some months ago and want to acknowledge publicly that, even in the storm that howled through the Santa Monica Mountains last week, the roof did not leak. The wall, however, did. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I was standing in the middle of the living room exulting in the fact that no rain was seeping in around the skylights when I noticed water on the floor.

I am sitting on the balcony of the Grand Hotel Timeo eating almond-flavored granita (a kind of Italian sherbet) for breakfast and thinking about Lady Chatterley. More accurately, I am thinking about the real-life inspiration for Lady Chatterley — an upper-class Englishwoman who had come to Taormina and carried on a steamy (think R-rated behavior in an olive grove) affair with a Sicilian farmer. Part of the reason I am thinking about this uninhibited British woman is that D.H. Lawrence wrote part of his frequently banned novel while staying at this very hotel.

Official guidebooks for bartenders list about 300 concoctions that can be name with vermouth, according to Joseph Flock. "But Says Flock of Noilly Prat, a French vermouth, "vermouth consumption is trending away from the classic martini and mixed drink." He says that with more moderate consumption of alcoholic beverages, aperitifs are gaining ground on the more potent cocktail combinations.

In martinis, I've been enjoying the dry vermouth from the old French house of Dolin in Chambéry in the French Alps. But I recently tried Dolin's blanc (as opposed to dry) as an apéritif all on its own. Served on the rocks with a twist of lemon, it has a wonderfully complex taste, herbal but more sweet than medicinal. It tastes like a meadow full of wildflowers, refreshing and pure. And each small sip carries so much interest you tend to drink it more slowly than a glass of wine to make it last.

  Total time: 15 minutes, plus steeping time for the vermouth Servings: 10 Note: From Philip Ward of Death + Co. Tea-infused sweet vermouth 1 (750 ml) bottle Martini & Rossi vermouth Heaping 1/4 cup loose-leaf cinnamon-spiced tea 1. Pour the vermouth into a pitcher. Add the tea and set aside for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally. 2. Strain the infused vermouth using a fine-mesh strainer lined with cheesecloth and pour the vermouth back into the bottle.

Before chardonnay was as American as Coca-Cola, there was the cocktail. Ladies sipped sweet pink concoctions laced with gin--and real men drank martinis. Well, the cocktail's back. But who among us can whip up a pousse cafe, a Pernod frappe? Now comes the Bartender's Deck, 50 boxed cards revealing on their flip sides the secrets of everything from an Angel's Kiss to a Zombie.

Count Alberto Marone Cinzano, 60, chairman of the noted vermouth and Spumante aperitif firm. The Cinzano family's labels date to 1757, when the aromatic liquor that years later was called vermouth first was produced in the back room of a small wine shop in Italy. The family's sparkling white wine, Spumante, became a major part of Cinzano's exports after World War II. Spanish police said Cinzano died in a crash near Cordoba on Friday when his car failed to negotiate a turn.

I am grateful to the contractor who reroofed our house some months ago and want to acknowledge publicly that, even in the storm that howled through the Santa Monica Mountains last week, the roof did not leak. The wall, however, did. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I was standing in the middle of the living room exulting in the fact that no rain was seeping in around the skylights when I noticed water on the floor.

Official guidebooks for bartenders list about 300 concoctions that can be name with vermouth, according to Joseph Flock. "But Says Flock of Noilly Prat, a French vermouth, "vermouth consumption is trending away from the classic martini and mixed drink." He says that with more moderate consumption of alcoholic beverages, aperitifs are gaining ground on the more potent cocktail combinations.

We have no quarrel with strawberry daiquiris, no complaint with pina coladas . Harvey Wallbangers and margaritas have their place. But when the order of the evening is elegance, it's time to call upon the classics. From left: the refreshing combination of bourbon and mint in a frosty Mint Julep; a Gin Rickey with its crisp tang of lime; a crystal-clear Gibson; a cool, citrusy Orange Blossom; a topaz-colored Manhattan, and the sweet secret of a fizzy Champagne Cocktail.

Count Alberto Marone Cinzano, 60, chairman of the noted vermouth and Spumante aperitif firm. The Cinzano family's labels date to 1757, when the aromatic liquor that years later was called vermouth first was produced in the back room of a small wine shop in Italy. The family's sparkling white wine, Spumante, became a major part of Cinzano's exports after World War II. Spanish police said Cinzano died in a crash near Cordoba on Friday when his car failed to negotiate a turn.

I remember my first encounter with amaro , the Italian bitter liqueur. It was the first time I went to Italy and had overindulged the night before. "Drink it. You'll feel better," my Italian friends urged, handing me a glass of Fernet Branca for its supposed digestive properties. The thick, viscous and extremely bitter liqueur could be enough to put you off the stuff forever. "It's like swallowing a spoonful of VapoRub," Mozza general manager David Rosoff describes it, laughing. I can't disagree.