One of the greatest difficulties we face today is a growing gap in cultural literacy. In addition to basic history, which we hope against hope will be covered in the kids curriculum, there are also thousands of fandoms, movies and music that a person needs to have at least a working knowledge of, in order to be a clever productive-ish member of society. Nobody told me that helping to educate the next generation would be so daunting. Just today I found myself explaining concepts I barely understand myself as the lad asked “What is a hollaback girl?” That shit was bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s. So, in the spirit of seeming clever by staying one step ahead of the class, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Bananarac.
“Man plans and god laughs,” the old saying goes. I believe it. I did not have anything terribly important to do today, but I had a lot of little things I was going to try to knock off the old “if you do it, you can quit worrying about it” list. Nobody told me that as you grow older you’d spend more and more time thinking about the things you still need to do. Hard to believe, after I spent so much time working on being carefree. I guess it comes for us all in the end. When the storm woke me up at 5 AM, I figured my day of farmwork was pretty well shot. I knew it was going to be a “good day for ducks” as my grandpa would say. Still, there is something to be said for taking a zero day and letting the work worry about itself. I reckon it will still be there when things dry out. So, in the spirit of taking it as easy as you can, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Rescue Team.
Truth is, I just felt like making a tiki drink. You ever just get that urge? It may not be for a tiki drink, it could be for a Kit-Kat or a smoke or some Persian poetry. Who knows where those impulses come from, where our desires live when they aren’t driving us. It is funny how you can go for weeks or months or years and never once think about quiche or scuba diving or the company of a friend from long ago, but once they cross your mind, they just seem to linger there, an inexplicable, but gnawing hunger to feel those things again. That’s where I find myself this evening, with an uninspired, yet insatiable want for something tiki. I had an unused glass and the ingredients, so I decided to indulge. In the spirit of nearly forgotten appetites, won’t you please join me now as we stand and make the modern tiki classic Lorikeet.
Sometimes, you need a little something to help you through a moment. Maybe it is years of training and discipline, maybe it’s the right song, maybe it’s a cigarette, maybe it’s a drink or maybe it is some small ritual, to distract you from the task to come. Whatever it takes, as they say. Today, I have a little work to do, I need to go back and take care of some unstarted business, just to keep the books straight and I hope you’ll indulge me. We’ve got a job of work to do, so as the great George McFly once said, “Give me a milk, chocolate” and join me now as we stand and make the classic Brandy Alexander.
It’s a shame that these “Cocktails from Quarantine” are not a well planned expedition into the history of how drinks have evolved over the years. Even a child knows that you should present steps along the evolutionary trail starting at the beginning. That way you get a lovely progression, with incremental improvements, each drink adding a little something that the previous one lacked. I am not that clever, though. I had no real plan when this started beyond making a few drinks to keep myself occupied, maybe learn some new skills, practice the craft and give my self an excuse to throw a bunch of words out there, with at least a tacit connection to the drink being made. To be fair, it has turned out to be more about the thoughts than the drinks, but that happens, when you have such a fine excess of words piling up. One could argue, that when the world closed down and I could no longer go on long-winded tirades in public that the words had to go somewhere, so here we are with them flowing out my fingers. The thing is, I did not have a plan or an exit strategy and I still don’t have one, really. I guess I am counting on the world to tell me when to quit. So, in the interest of doubling back to pick up something I missed, won’t you join me now a we stand and make the Supreme.
There are all sorts of things in life you don’t really think about. Things that seem totally ordinary until you take a moment to examine them more closely. That is when the cracks begin to show. Sometimes, it is something big, like for-profit healthcare, tipped wages, short selling into the market or the designated hitter rule. Other times it is less consequential, but still weird, like the fact that there are 8 hot dog buns in a bag, but 10 hot dogs in the package or that candy cigarettes are a thing. So, in the spirit of things that deserve a closer examination, please join me as we stand and make the More Supreme.
Sometimes, you want something rich and creamy. A dessert drink, if you will or if you won’t, it makes no real difference to me. I am not a huge fan of this class of drinks, but I was intrigued by the smoky scotch component, so here we are. Won’t you please join me now, as we stand and make the White Knight.
It appears to be the first day of spring and the weather, clearly, got the memo. The last day of winter was overcast, misty, cold with a wind blowing out of the north that would cut right through you. A good evening for curling up next to the fire with a hot drink, which I did, before snuggling into the covers. They say things can change overnight, and they weren’t kidding. Our winter of discontent, was made glorious Spring by this sun, presumably the same as in York. It was straight up hot today driving around with the windows down and the sunroof open. So in the spirit of keeping our cool amidst the temperature swings of outrageous fortune won’t you join me as we stand and make the Penichillin.
“Brrrr! It’s cold outside, Aqua Sleep Man!” he said as they stared at him blankly. It turns out he had read the room wrong and quoting local Nashville advertisements from the 80’s was not making him any friends. Maybe they weren’t from around here, maybe they weren’t waterbed aficionados, either way, he had clearly chosen the wrong opener. “I just mean to say that it has turned unseasonably chilly”, he went on as they remained unmoved or impressed. “Perhaps, it is the damp, rather than the actual temperature, which, to be fair is only in the 40’s, unless you are from literally anywhere else in the world, in which case it is 4°, but with the winds it just feels…” he trailed off as they turned their attention elsewhere, dismissing him as a bit of a crank. That did not change the fact that he was cold or that he really felt the need for some sort of warm pick me up to make him feel better. Noting that no one was actually tending the bar, he slipped behind it and thought better of asking the crowd if they would join him now as he stood to make the Hot Penicillin.
I don’t know how things are going to turn out today. Isn’t that exciting? Oh, I have some ideas where we are going to end up, but I don’t know for certain. That little bit of mystery has had me excited all day in anticipation of learning the answer. When I first heard about this drink, I was intrigued. Intrigued enough to actually put off making it, after all, a pleasure delayed is a pleasure enhanced, usually. So in the interest of finally paying off that postponed gratification, won’t you please join me now, as we stand and make the Oliveto.