The turning of the calendar always seems to be about new beginnings, a fresh start and a chance to start over and get it right this time. That never quite sits right with me. In spite of the ingrained self-loathing that is the birthright of my generation, I am actually reasonably happy with myself. Sure, there is room for improvement on almost all levels, but that basic structure is pretty good, so I don’t really want a new start. Who am I kidding? At my age I am happy to be able to keep on keeping on without too many accommodations to the “changing” eyesight, that lifestyle induced arthritis and the increased distinguishedness of my locks. So rather than a restart, I like to focus on making small adjustments, looking for improvement over perfection. So, if you are into a little experimentation, to trying something new in hopes of a better tomorrow, won’t you join me now as we stand and make, the Rheinberg Sour.
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I’ve seen a thing or two over the last half century, done a fair bit of living in my short time here. Am I a bit jaded? Probably. I guess it is true that the more you do, the less there is left to do, if you follow my meaning. That said, you’ve got to stay open to new experiences. That is what life is all about, learning, growing and being ready to take the next plot twist in stride and just go with it. Sometimes, life gives you lemons, how you respond to that is up to you. Which is how I found myself, with lemon in hand ready to explore an old drink for the first time. So, with a nod to serendipity and a flair for ubiquitous idioms, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Ward 8.
Continue readingThey say change is inevitable. You never know when someone is going to toss a pebble into your pond and set off a series of ripples that affect every decision that comes after. I often look back at the small choices that changed my trajectory and opened new worlds. Seeking out that first geocache, backing a kickstarter project for a burlesque school even though I had never seen a show, buying a set of cocktail tins to learn about making my own drinks and then, gentle reader, deciding that you needed to hear all about it. It really is amazing how those little things can set you on an entirely new path, like auditioning for a musical on a whim that set off a series of events that would lead to meeting and marrying the love of my life a decade or so later in that same theater. Call it luck, call it fate, call it kismet, but these are the little things that make up a life. So, with a nod to good fortune and being in the right place at the right time won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Brown Butter & Banana Old-Fashioned.
Continue readingWe are always in transition. It’s the nature of the game, but we don’t always realize it. Sure, we get the graduations and marriages and all of those big days, but lots of life changing moments pass us by without fanfare, only recognizable in hindsight. For most folks, you don’t know when it happen and that’s, mostly, a good thing. As a kid, how long would you hold on if you knew it was the last time your mom was going to pick you up? How tight would you hold your own child if you realized how soon they were going to grow too large for you to carry them in from the car. We wouldn’t be able to function. How would you ever be able to say goodbye and walk away if you knew that this was the last cup of coffee you were ever going to share with a friend? Sometimes, we are blessed by ignorance. We know that all of those things are going to happen, eventually, but that’s off in the future and nothing to worry about today. So, with a nod toward those little moments, the firsts and the lasts that sweep us by, won’t you please join me now as we stand and make The Patriot.
Continue readingHe did not want the drink I had offered him. I got that. On some level, it made sense. After all, I had been making custom shots from a multitude of ingredients for everyone else, and I simply poured him a long pull of Jågermeister. Was it a bit lazy on my part? Sure. To be fair, he had been talking about doing bombs in college, while waiting in line, just moments before in a way that seemed a fond remembrance. What to do now, as we found ourselves in a bit of a stand off. I did not want to argue, but I was making the shots, so I got to call them. I just locked eyes and waited. After a pause, he opened, “it’s just that, well, in college, umm, well…” then I got it. He’d been poorly treated by this spirit. No wanting to prolong his discomfort, I poured an apple whiskey, topped it with blueberry schnapps and pushed it across the bar to him, before slowly and deliberately picking up that Jåger shot for a silent toast, before slowly drinking it down. As he walked away, I thought, it was a shame that he wasn’t willing to give it a chance. There are lots of things that hurt when done to excess that can be heavenly, in moderation. So, with a nod to the ghosts of college parties past, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Count Mast.
Continue readingRestraint. There is a lot to be said for it. It’s not necessarily one of my strong suits, but I am trying. This is one of the very few areas where I am getting better with age. The older you get that easier it is to let things slide. To be fair, I am way more likely to pull hard on the reins now, when I take them in hand. Of course, that’s just the other side of the same coin, someone has to hold them after all. So, grab some leather and hold on as we stand and make the Menthattan.
Continue reading“You can’t just jump in to the middle,” she said, the exasperation palatable in the air. “These things take time, you have to build a world before you can live in it.” I knew she was right, of course. It was careless of me to have let this happen in the first place. I should have stopped right then, but I figured I would get away with it. No one was getting hurt after all. That’s what I told myself, but with every incident I found myself falling further down the well of denial. I knew what had to happen. I had to fix things, but how could I do that now? I could always go back and pretend it never happened in the first place, create evidence, obscure the trail, but that did not seem right. Better to just own up to the facts and make things as right as I could. So, in the spirit of correcting dead ends and restoring the sacred narrative throughline, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Monte Carlo.
Continue readingSometimes you get lucky and things just fall in to place. That happened to us last week as we made a quick stop on the road home from Atlanta for lunch and some cocktails to go. We got a great meal, some local ciders to bring home, a drink for later and I scored an ingredient I needed for this drink and a few others. So, in the spirit of things working out, won’t you please join me as we stand and make The Brooklyn.
Continue readingOne 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.
Continue readingTruth 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.
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