Intoxicating substances used to go hand in hand with creative writing. Is it time for a change?

A few weeks into my creative writing MFA, a bunch of us new writers were sitting around a cramped table at one of New York City’s staple “writerly” bars. It was never one of my favorites to be honest—the prices are high, the seating limited or nonexistent and the waitstaff generally hostile toward the writers who overrun the place, with the exception of our favorite bartender who knew every writer in the program by name after only a day and often snuck us drinks on the house. I’m sure for years our loyalty helped keep the place in business.

Still I never felt that magnetic attachment to the place others did; it invariably made me anxious, most conversations (on my part) beginning, “Man, this place is really not conducive to conversation, huh.” Mere “conversation” was rarely the point, though.

“So …” said one girl, breaking the ice. “Favorite drug. Ready, go!”

“Opium.” “Ecstasy.” “Probably … blow.”

They kept rattling them off with ease.

“That would be my vibrator,” said one self-professed “Sober Sally.”

A couple writers, myself most likely included, seemed to scoff into their beers.

It’s no shocking revelation that for a long time writing, drinking and taking drugs have gone hand in hand. Often the very culture around writing seems more defined by this lifestyle than anything else. On more than one occasion throughout my MFA, events were attended simply for the open bar, others abandoned in favor of the closest bar. “Writing meetings” quickly devolved into 4 a.m. drinking competitions, and some classes were “drinking classes,” the professor occasionally most intoxicated of all. I have to admit, I didn’t always mind.

Every year, the creative writing community nationwide descends on one major U.S. city for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP) conference. While there is certainly valuable information to be gleaned at AWP and good networking to be done, there’s no denying that for many it’s an excuse to spend three days drunk in a hotel room with friends under the guise of literariness.

This year, however, with AWP rapidly approaching, something a little different is happening. This year there is Sober AWP, public, to my knowledge, for the very first time. “Anyone in recovery from anything is welcome,” notes the recurring, bare-bones event description on AWP’s events calendar.

As someone who has been enabled in the past, and done my fair share of enabling, I may have at some point laughed off Sober AWP (“that’s not the point!”) or at the very least overlooked it. Now, one year out of my MFA and much further along in life, I applaud it; I’m proud to see it exists.

More so, I’m impressed the event description does not play Sober AWP off as the “most amazing time ever.” It does not try to compete with all the other debauched festivities, but rather calls it what it is: daily meetings for sober writers.

The creative writing culture will never lose its emphasis on getting obliterated, and for many that’s just fine. While it can be extremely hard for sober people to merely coexist alongside those who are actively not sober, hopefully others in the national literary community will in some way follow suit in the future, and help carve out that place for sober writers that isn’t always behind closed doors.

Turkey Day is the time to fly to small town America, where no matter how successful you’ve become in the big city, your family will find a way to ensure you haven’t gotten too big for your britches. For your own arsenal, offer to tend bar and use these cocktail recipes to soothe the beast in everyone. You may even learn to not regret having made the trip.

1. The Granny Slammer: Grandma’s been up since 5:30 a.m. with her hand up the backside of the turkey. Hence she’s already downed half a bottle of sherry.  If she’s going to go the distance, (i.e. finish cooking your dinner) she’ll need sustenance. Solution: One large glass of water with a shot of sausage gravy on the side.

2. NFL Win-Win: Dad’s getting his annual exercise, sitting in front of the TV screaming “Run, bastard, run” to the running back on the football field. Make sure to have a chilled pony keg of Labatt’s and an I.V. hookup. Serve with Swedish fish and Cheetos. With luck, by the second half, he’ll be pacified.

3. Mother’s Little Helper: Mom doesn’t drink, so serve her a Long Island Iced tea (1 oz. of tequila, vodka, rum, gin and triple sec, splashes of lemonade and Coke, shake well.) By the time she’s complained for the eleventh time about you not being married, she’ll change the subject to “that’s sure some good iced tea, hon.” Smile and nod, smile and nod.

4. Aunt Margie’s Aneurysm:  Auntie’s been chattering incessantly about everything from her bunions to the neighbor’s thyroid, and if she doesn’t shut up soon, you’re going to drive up to Make Out Point and throw yourself off the cliff. Time to calm her down with a Bloody Brain. Make this in a travel cup with a lid. Using peach schnapps as the base, slowly pour Bailey’s Irish cream to curdle like a brain. Add a dripping of Grenedine or Tabasco for the blood. Your choice, but remember she did show you the oozing sore on her thigh.

5. Brother Joe’s Boogie Monster: Your brother hasn’t gotten off the couch since 1989. Mix one bottle Ginsing extract, one Monster energy drink, and 2 shots low quality bourbon. Serve with a smile and mention quietly that if he doesn’t rake the leaves by dinner time, you’ll blab about the blow up doll he’s got stashed under the bunk beds.

6 & 7. Nap Time Jello:  For Carter and Jackson, ages 5 and 7, who have pushed crayons in their every orifice and eaten all the wax fruit off the table centerpiece.  Make up a batch of Nyquil Jello. Serve in Dixie cups. Assume there are no ill side effects in conjunction with the turkey’s tryptophan. Watch them sleep til Saturday.

8. Uncle Mervin’s Monkey Gland: The only classic on the menu from the 1920s. Merv the Perv will enjoy the gin, O.J., grenadine and anisette concoction. Maybe tie him to the chair next to Aunt Margie. Serves him right. Then again, he has to live with her.

9. Yours Truly,  aka “I need a damn drink”:  You know very well the liquor stores in your home town only stock Frexinet and Korbel, not champagne. Buy a few bottles of each, add vodka and sit in a long, hot bath with Calgon. Dream of going home. Pass out. Repeat as needed.

10. After Dinner Digestif : Everyone gets a perky mélange of Pepto Bismal and dark rum. Just think, only 33 days ‘til Christmas! Happy Holidays.

The bad news is alcohol continues to be the most widely abused mood-altering, addictive drug in America, directly and indirectly responsible for billions of dollars in health care costs, crime and property damage—not to mention immeasurable lost productivity and personal devastation.

Alcohol problems are widespread, and fewer addicts receive treatment in comparison to sufferers of other chronic conditions. A five-year study by Columbia University’s National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse (CASAColumbia), released this past June, found a huge treatment gap: As of 2010, there were 18.7 million Americans addicted to alcohol but only 1.7 million were treated. The study also revealed that of every government dollar spent on risky substance use and addiction, 96 cents paid for consequences and only 2 cents for prevention and treatment. Binge and heavy drinking are prevalent among alcohol users, especially the younger population (18 to 25), with figures of 50 percent and 25 percent, respectively, often cited.

That’s just some of the bad news; the statistics don’t lie. But there is also plenty of good news.

Organizations such as the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) and CASAColumbia are conducting much new research—covering both the effects of alcohol and the efficacy of treatments—and pushing for evidence-based reforms in health care and public policy. Counselors, therapists and clinicians continue to offer many options for heavy drinkers to curb their abuse and for alcoholics to achieve recovery. The research scientists are confirming much of what the psychologists have known all along: That along the spectrum of alcohol problems, there are multiple paths to recovery, and that a thorough individual evaluation, tallying genetic, psychological, environmental and other health factors and leading to a tailored treatment program, promises a more positive outcome.

The medical profession has finally come to view addiction as a chronic ailment requiring long-term care and multiple treatment modes, including psychosocial and pharmaceutical. And it is establishing addiction medicine as a specialty—better late than never. The American Board of Addiction Medicine has accredited 10 residency programs, including one at The Addiction Institute of New York at St. Luke’s-Roosevelt Hospital, and plans to double that number by early next year.

More (qualified) good news: Based on its review of a 2001-2002 epidemiology study, the NIAAA concluded that most people who overuse alcohol do not become dependent. For those who do, it often starts in their early 20s and consists mostly of impaired control, as opposed to severe life-altering problems. After 20 years, three-quarters are in full recovery, i.e. they’ve either quit or cut down to low-risk levels; and fully 75 percent of these “recoverees” are able to do it on their own, without a formal support group or professional help.
According to experts like Robert Huebner, Ph.D., deputy director of NIAAA in the Division of Treatment and Recovery Research, the “cure rate” for people with alcohol disorders is roughly the same as for other chronic diseases. One third achieve full remission, one third partial remission (significant improvement), and one third no improvement. For such a complex, stubborn affliction, apparently two out of three ain’t bad. Nevertheless, the remaining third could no doubt benefit from more adequate treatment.

On the spectrum of alcoholism, for those who “merely abuse” alcohol, moderation may be possible; for the addict, however, abstinence is the goal. In either case, relapses are common, and dealing with them is part of any good intervention or treatment program. The NIAAA publishes various pamphlets on the subject, including “Tips for Cutting Down on Drinking,” which concludes with advice for alcoholics who want to quit altogether.

Huebner and colleague David Goldman, M.D., chief of the NIAAA’s Neurogenetics Lab, note scientists’ increased understanding of individual and family predispositions toward alcoholism. For example, genetics can now identify people with a common variation that makes them susceptible to impulsivity and binge drinking—roughly 40 percent of us have it—so they can be forewarned before being exposed to cultural and environmental triggers. For individuals who become addicts, genetic profiling offers the promise of identifying which prescription medications will work for them.

“If you’re looking at alcohol alone, 50 to 75 percent of the risk that use becomes addiction is attributable to genetics,” says Susan Foster, CASA Columbia VP and director of policy research and analysis. “But there are many other factors.” She cites age of first use; co-occurring health conditions such as anxiety and depression; trauma; and multiple risk factors, for example, genetic predisposition combined with trauma. “Understanding these factors is very important in terms of helping people recognize what to look out for, the same as with other chronic conditions such as heart disease. It all gets back to asking, ‘What’s the nature of the problem and what’s the best solution?’”

At the Freedom Institute, a private outpatient facility in Midtown, addiction is treated as a family disease. “It affects everyone—not just the addict but all the family members who have been living with it and all the systems and patterns that have developed because of it,” says Executive Director Donna Wick, a psychologist and expert on child development. “Recovery and relapse-prevention rates are substantially better when the whole family gets treatment. We’ve learned that the single best prevention for adolescent substance abuse is a close relationship with parents.” Wick stresses that substance-use can alter young developing brains, before the age of about 25, so one of the main thrusts of their prevention efforts in schools is delaying first use. “If parents say, ‘Well, we drank in high school,’ I try to explain it this way: Our parents’ generation didn’t know smoking was dangerous. We know a lot more now than we did then.”

Anecdotal and scientific evidence as well as clinical experience consistently indicate what works best for addiction is a personalized, targeted, multi-pronged strategy that addresses all substances and behaviors. The debate whether addiction should be treated as a mental disorder or a physical disease has been rendered pretty much moot by the embrace of this integrated approach. Among its most articulate proponents is Arnold Washton, Ph.D., veteran addiction psychologist, author and founder of Recovery Options, a private practice with locations in Manhattan and Princeton, N.J. (Washton’s website, www.recoveryoptions.us, is an excellent source of information and advice.)

Washton and colleagues follow a personalized psychotherapeutic model, emphasizing patient motivation. “It would be hard to argue that individualized treatment wouldn’t do better than a dogmatic, one-size-fits-all approach,” he says, pointing to the NIAAA’s Project MATCH, a two-part clinical study comparing different types of treatment. “They found whether you use cognitive behavioral therapy, motivational enhancement or 12-step facilitation, the results are about the same. But looking more closely at individual therapists, the study suggests the ones who were accepting, engaging and inspiring were more successful than those who would read their clients the riot act and bat them over the head with denial. So it turns out that the ideology or philosophy of the treatment is not so important as the spirit in which it’s delivered.

“My succinct advice for people looking for help would be to start slowly and easily,” says Washton. “Find treatment that’s tailored to your needs rather than a pre-formulated all-or-nothing program. Start by getting an assessment from a specialist, e.g. an addiction psychologist or psychiatrist, and move on from there.”

The bottom line is the therapist acts as the facilitator of recovery, but ultimately it’s the patient who supplies the motivation and desire. For the addict, the full story goes like this: Using all of the tools now available, your doctor can help you get better, but you’ve got to want it and be prepared to follow what can be a long and at times rocky road to recovery.

Glass pitchers with thin spouts, otherwise known as “porróns,” line the back walls of the restaurant.

This is not to say, however, that this Latin newcomer does not take its food seriously. The double-sided menu proves just as bold as the signature drinking device. More than 30 hot and cold tapas range from classic, like the jamón Serrano and tortilla espanola, to contemporary, with ingredients such as black squid ink and citrus-berry reduction. The back of the menu showcases about 10 different meat and fish entrees and a few paella variations. But this is, after all, a tapas bar.

When deciding on which of the many dishes to choose from, my attention is immediately drawn to the circled stars next to a few of the hot and cold tapas. A very cryptic explanation of the meaning of these stars, listed at the bottom of the menu, reads, “Exclusive Chef (“Mr. G”) Specialty Dish.” Which raises two questions: who is this Mr. G and why is he so exclusive? I ask our waiter, who speaks with the signature Spanish lisp, who Mr. G is. With an insidious grin he replies, “Gonzalo,” before disappearing to fetch our bread and olive oil.

After choosing a Tempranillo from the moderately priced list, we finally decide on our dishes. We ordered the jamón Serrano (Spanish country ham), pulpo a la gallega (boiled octopus), albóndigas de ternera (Spanish veal meatballs) and chorizo al vino de Rijoa (Spanish sausage in Rioja wine).

We decide to wait to attempt the porrón until we have some food in us, patiently chomping on a rather bland loaf of white bread in the meantime. The tapas arrived within minutes, starting with the jamón Serrano, which is served atop slabs of toasted garlic bread and diced tomato. The ham, sliced in house from a leg they keep on display up front, exudes a thick salty freshness that pairs exquisitely with the spicy Tempranillo. The quality and tenderness of the meat is impressive. Less so, however, are the pieces of toast that accompany it, which prove almost too hard to eat. The limp, out-of-season tomatoes don’t add any particularly luster to the dish either.

The pulpo a la gallega was recommended by our waiter. Boiling the octopus and topping it very simply with sea salt and a drizzle of olive oil, vinegar and Spanish “pimenton” paprika is a specialty of the Galicia region, and one of the most common ways to consume seafood throughout the country. I can see why. The minimal garnish pronounces the subtle octopus flavor. While I did miss the tasty charred bits that usually accompany grilled or broiled octopus, the boiling left the meaty pieces tender, with just the right amount of chew.

The Spanish veal meatballs, a “Mr. G” specialty, were a standout. They arrived at our table simmering in a delicious leek, carrot, celery and tomato stew, topped with sliced almonds. We found ourselves using the seemingly day-old-bread to sop up every last bit.

“Mr. G” effectively jazzed up the classic Spanish chorizo by topping it with a sweet Rioja reduction and sending it out to us sizzling in a traditional cazuela, or clay pot. While the meat was a bit overcooked, the drama of the steaming clay pot sold me on this dish. Who says you can’t eat décor?

Desserts were few and predictable: a chocolate one, a creamy one, some churros. We ordered a French toast concoction with strawberries; it came to us cold and burnt.

El Porrón has great culinary ambitions that have not yet been reached. Execution of dishes ranged from good to awkward, and the wait staff seem a bit lost in translation. But for now, the cache of the porrón seems to be what’s pleasing the crowd, or at least getting them too drunk to care.

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El Porrón
1123 First Ave. Betw. 61st and 62nd streets
212-207-8349
Prices: $6-$30