• It’s hard to read this list of drinks inspired by Dickens novels and not want to head immediately to the store to pick up the ingredients for some Smoking Bishops. (via Bookslut.)
• Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder (so secondeth Strindberg).
I’ve not yet had absinthe, and I long to try a thimbleful. My adult self feels about it the way my kid self once felt about Turkish delight. As you’ll remember, Turkish delight is what the White Witch gives Edmund a packet of in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and it sounded so mysterious and delectable. I have a distinct memory of standing in front of the candy counter at the Marshall-Fields in Chicago as a child looking in vain for the tray of Turkish delight. (A few years ago a friend brought some home from a cruise in Greece, and I finally got to try some. It turns out that Turkish delight is made up of oddly nubby, jelly-like candies covered in powdery sugar. Not quite what I imagined — which was something even more snowy with a deep emerald center — but still very satisfying to eat.)
It’s funny how many of the food descriptions one reads as a child stick. For me it wasn’t just the Turkish delight from The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe that I fancied, but also the buttery toast points and tea Lucy has with Mr. Tumnus. The blancmange Jo brings Laurie in Little Women. The acorn pancakes in My Side of the Mountain. And the chocolate river in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as well as the toad in the hole in Danny the Champion of the World.
Meanwhile, the list of drinks inspired by Dickens novels makes me want to re-read Pickwick Papers and make a list of all the food consumed in it. The club eats so many gluttonous meals, many of the components of which, if I remember correctly, are pleasantly strange and slightly disgusting to read about now.
Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City
