There are more than just bananas in there...
When Covid-19 set in and we began staying home, I decided to make a drink per day and write some words about it. Hilarity ensues.
My hetero-life mate, Seth decided to get older today, not sure what he was thinking but who am I to judge. Anyway, another year in the books for my friend, so it is only fitting that I make something fruity and full of rum for the fella who made me appreciate Tiki drinks and bars as the wonderful escape from reality that they are. So in his honor, we’re making the classic Painkiller.
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Today, we celebrated my sister-in-law’s birthday and she had a special, super-soft request. So, make your way past the cupcake decoration station, around the boy band karaoke, and past the unicorn, to the drinks table for a Piña Colada.
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I can admit it, I make mistakes all the time. I make assumptions from incomplete datasets. I fall victim to confirmation bias. It happens, but I’m trying to be better. I have hated on this drink for many a year, for no real reason. When I was considering cocktails I kinda scoffed as I skipped over this one. But, it is a classic and when I thought about it, I didn’t know why I hated it, I just did. Probably, from it’s 90’s reputation as the go to drink for fashionable ladies about town, I never was a fan of Sex in the City. Today, in the interest of open mindedness I am tossing out my preconceptions and making a Cosmopolitan.
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I really did not want to make a cocktail tonight. Driving home from work I heard the sobering news that today the US passed 100,000 deaths from Covid-19. It is hard to imagine. 100,000 people who won’t come home tonight. 100,000 families, many in isolation, mourning the loss of a loved one. I came within a hair’s breadth of photographing an empty glass to honor a football stadium full of people who cannot enjoy a frivolous cocktail tonight. I struggled with what would be appropriate, what could mean anything at times like these, there has to be some good that comes from this. So, tonight we are making an unusual cocktail from Theory Bar in Athens, Greece, the Look for the Silver Lining.
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It’s been super strange being home on Memorial Day weekend, seeing all the memories of great times with friends all around the country. Thinking about those no longer with us, the ones who went before. So, no fire breathing drinks for this Memorial Day, just a quiet, unassuming little sip of heaven, the Honey Bee.
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It certainly feels tropical in Tennessee today, all the humidity with none of those pesky, cool ocean breezes to blow your parasol away. Still, it makes me want a boat drink, something with a little umbrella, so I’m gonna try one I have been looking forward to, the Halekulani.
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It is the Saturday before Memorial Day which usually means I’m exhausted but surrounded by friends from all over the world at GeoWoodstock. We know this year was different, even before it was rescheduled to 2021, but this weekend is always special for our crew, even more so since The Godfather left us nearly five years ago, so sit back and think about 18 years of good times as we make a Salty Dog in honor of my friend, Joe Armstrong.
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So you think you’re hip? You think you’re cool? You’ve had a shot and a pickleback while listening to Nickleback? Well, if you’re tired of standing in lines to clubs you’ll never get in, up your game, quit doing shots with the cool kids and grow into a hipper, bearded cocktail, The Pickled Surfer.
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I love Tiki drinks, Tiki bars, Tiki music, Tiki culture, just all the things. Always have, most likely always will. Honestly, I have been looking forward to making this drink since this whole thing started. I found the right mug, tracked down the ingredients and made the syrup. So crank up The Cranberries cause it is time to make the Zombie.
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I was reading about prohibition cocktails the other night and ran across another I had forgotten about. Hemingway mentions it in The Sun Also Rises and honestly, I want to try pretty much anything he writes about and I want to drink anywhere he drank. It’s funny, but I remember years ago reading one of his passages about trout fishing and drinking white wine straight from the bottle that had been chilling in the stream and it made me want that. Not just the drink, but the whole experience. He was one of the first writers who connected to that inner drive, who tapped those desires with his spot on descriptions. Honestly, I would probably not list Hemingway as a favorite author or human, but when it comes to describing experiences, I doff my fine cap to this master. And always drink at an old Hemingway hang out when you get the chance, they usually have a certain air of carefree disreputability that you need in your life. Anyway, the drink harkens back to the early days of cocktails with its brandy-esque base and it gave me an excuse to get a bottle of Applejack so I figured, why not. Time to kick off your shoes and look at your mixing station with a certain world weary grizzledness as we construct the Jack Rose.
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