Adam Ford pours himself a drink. (Zandy Mangold)
The mortar and pestle used to crush nutmeg and star anise for vermouth (Zandy Mangold)
GREAT ATSBY: Adam Ford’s three-bedroom condo, which features high-end finishes and pieces he found traveling. (Zandy Mangold)
The space includes a colorful sleeping area for his daughter, Tessa. (Zandy Mangold)
If a classic six and a loft had a love child, it might look like Adam Ford’s three-bedroom, three-bathroom condo, which sits near the entrance to the Holland Tunnel.
“I like the area because it still has a raw and industrial feel,” says Ford, 37, a lawyer and the founder of Atsby Vermouth, a company that produces the fortified wine on the North Fork of Long Island.
Walk inside the 14-story downtown building, past the 24-hour concierge and Zen meditation garden, and the din of the city disappears.
Ford and his wife, Glynis, moved here in 2009, after living for seven years in a small loft at the Printing House on Hudson Street. After having their first child, Anker (now 5), they realized the place wasn’t conducive to raising a family; “My walk-in closet turned into a nursery, which was sad,” Glynis, 38, says.
Their current condo has plenty of room for Anker, as well as their second child, Tessa, 3, and their French bulldog, Sneelock — and plenty of light.
“We have windows on all four sides,” Adam boasts — a rarity for a New York apartment. While some of the views have been altered by new construction — “we used to be able to see the fireworks from here,” Glynis laments from the master bedroom — One World Trade Center is seen clearly from the expansive living room. With 12-foot ceilings, windows that soar almost as high and an open kitchen, it’s a space that begs for entertaining.
And so the couple could throw parties without disturbing the children, soundproofed French doors were installed separating the bedroom area from the living space. They’re accessed from a long, L-shaped hallway along which hang family portraits by photographer Yaron Leshem, who Glynis, a public-relations manager with an art degree, points out is exhibited at MoMA. “What I like about Yaron is he captures personalities,” Glynis says.
Artwork from the couple’s travels around the world — “all before kids,” Adam notes — fills the rest of the 2,000-square-foot space. From the Xi’an Warrior replica they got while visiting its namesake’s city in China to the rug with evil eyes purchased on their honeymoon in Turkey, every piece tells a story. The most valuable among them (monetarily speaking) are original Calder and Miro lithographs that hang in the living room, purchased decades ago by Glynis’ mother during trips to Europe.
Other pieces carry a different value. There’s a painting of a young woman by Miguel Angel Biazzi, whose studio the couple discovered on a trip to Argentina, in the master bedroom. At the entrance to the room hang two framed photos of the couple in a tent on Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the country.
“I hired a guide, and we were the only people on the mountain. It was just a walk, but the tricky thing was we had to do it in the dark,” recalls Adam. It was also the dead of winter. He was intending to propose to Glynis that night but was thwarted by the weather, which caused Glynis to fall down. “I still have a scar,” she says with a half smile.
Ford’s passion for vermouth came from another trip: the famed Mont Blanc hike the couple took in the summer of 2006.
“We were in the town of Courmayeur,” says Adam, “and I tried some Italian vermouth. I thought it was an amazing drink that no one was making here.” He was further inspired by the local craft-beer and distillery movements and wanted to create a sweet vermouth that was, well, less sweet. “As a general rule, I always loved Manhattans and thought vermouth ruined them, so I knew I wanted my sweet vermouth to be a lot less sweet and syrupy.”
And so he began experimenting making vermouth in his apartment using nutmeg, star anise, wild celery, shiitake mushrooms and more than 40 botanicals — a recipe that he keeps secret.
“It’s impossible to tell if a nutmeg has gone bad until you break it open. I thought if there was any mold in it, it would really affect the drink,” Adam explains. That’s why each nutmeg is ground up individually at the plant.
The result is a spirit somewhere between wine and whiskey that’s nice on its own and better in a Manhattan. The company offers two versions — Amberthorn and Armadillo Cake: the drier Amberthorn is made with raw summer honey while the sweeter Armadillo contains dark Indian muscovado caramel.
During production season in late fall, Ford frequently makes the two-hour drive in his BMW (kept at a nearby garage on Spring Street), leaving at 6 a.m. to beat traffic and getting back in time to fulfill his duties as a Manhattan lawyer.
“Everything I do is for my family,” says Adam, “the long, early morning drives to the North Fork, balancing the company with my law practice, and making it home every night to put my kids to sleep.”
Adam Ford’s
favorite things
* The mortar and pestle used to crush nutmeg and star anise for vermouth
* Family portraits taken by Yaron Leshem
* The Xi’an Warrior statue
* The Nespresso Pixie and milk frother
* Artwork by Calder, Miro, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cindy Sherman and Biazzi
* A framed copy of song written by musician Hamell on Trial about how Adam and his wife Glynis met
* Sneelock, the French bulldog
* A painting by Sara Jimenez (runner up on Bravo’s “Work of Art: The Next Great Artist”) of Atsby imagery
* A photo of Ernest Hemingway’s shoes taken by Adam’s father Ron at the author’s home in Cuba