We’re gonna do something a little different for Sally’s birthday. A cream based dessert drink. Is it because she’s sweet and creamy and goes well in stemware? No, though those things may well be true. It’s simply for the name, so join me as we stand and make the oddly appellated, Give Me a Dime. 

Why is it called that? Hell, I don’t know. Let’s pretend it was a post-prohibition cocktail, created by a barman in Massachusetts at the height of the Great Depression. One day as he pondered the tonsorial possibilities available to a barman of means, a fella wandered in and asked him, “Buddy, can you spare a dime?” He replied, “I’ll do ya one better, pal. I’ll make you a drink…on the house, gratis.” He then set about his task to make something palatable, but not too boozy. Maybe something that used ingredients just gathering dust on the shelf, plus some dairy, something to help a fella who needed strong teeth and healthy bones, even if he was down on his luck. So he set about his task, let’s step back in time and join him “in the old north shore style”. Not sure what that style is, I totally just made it up, but since I’m fabricating the entire thing, we will just go with it. 

Grab your tins and pop in equal parts of creme de cacao, butterscotch schnapps and half and half. To that add 3-4 stabs of El Guapo Spiced Cocoa Tree Bitters and some ice, not the good stuff, the everyday ice, and shake. Shake it hard, shake it long, shake it like you mean it, shake it strong. Realize you just wrote the chorus for the next big “Bro Country” hit and double strain into a cocktail glass, the kind you serve a martini in. Grab your micro plane and grate a bit of chocolate on the surface. Laura found some dark chocolate stuff we smuggled back from the Museo del Chocolate in Havana and it was perfect. If you want to use some sort of domestic chocolate, I’m sure it will be fine. That’s it, simple as anything, when the fella asks “So, are you done?” You can look at him, kinda side eye and say, “Well, I’m no potato, buster, but I am finished.”

I expected this to be too sweet, but it is surprisingly well-balanced. Kinda like Sally. I mean I can’t imagine this drink wandering off into the desert and getting lost. This drink has no interest whatsoever in joining a wagon train, salt lick or not. It probably would not be a double gold star supporter of the ski patrol “towing” service or hold any intergroup records for best off trail mishap, and it, certainly, couldn’t have its car “stolen” in Fort Worth, I mean it doesn’t even have a license. So maybe this drink isn’t like Sally at all. It’s all flash and no substance unlike Sally who is always prepared, all the way down to her sensible shoes. My friend isn’t into penny loafers like the other kids, she prefers dime loafers, not to be ostentatious, but just in case she had to make a call. Thoughtful and kind, sweet and practical, someone you know you can count on. Yeah, that’s way better than this trifle of a drink. Stay safe, stay hydrated and stay sane, my friends.