There are more than just bananas in there...
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” Well, mostly. My early forays into drinking were far from sophisticated. There are some drinks from those days that I have not revisited, many with good reason, but maybe it is time, being National Iced Tea Day, and all. I guess it is only fitting that we make a Long Island Iced Tea.
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To paraphrase Prince, “I was buzzing when I wrote this, forgive me if I go astray.” Tonight we made one hell of a drink, twice or thrice, I forget. I love this cocktail, always have. It is way overproof, one of those good “bang for your buck” drinks. It’s a tiki drink, so yay, and there is fire…I love fire. Plus, we had the perfect receptacle, courtesy of my grandma. I’ll tell you all about it below, but first let’s get the tag line out of the way as we stand and drink, the Jet Pilot.
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If you are into cocktails and you are not following @bitterbotwin on Instagram you are missing out on some phenomenal stuff. I hate to copycat, but his knowledge of drinks and presentation just makes you want to try them and sometimes, I do. So, in a blatant rip-off, I mean homage to what Joe is doing, I present the Army & Navy.
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In case you thought I was doing all this alone, I am not. Like most things, ok everything, I have ever done in my life, these daily cocktail posts are only possible because I have an incredible amount of help and support. Sometimes, it is Liam offering to shake the tins for me, sometimes it is Laura picking up alcohol or making syrups and suggestions. Other times it is my mom or grandma loaning glassware, my brother or dad offering “constructive” criticism, or you, gentle readers, suggesting cocktails. The thing is, without buy in from family and friends this would have been a really short trip. So tonight’s cocktail comes at the request, nay demand of my long suffering wife, my numero uno partner in crime who not only wanted to try, but put in the leg work to bring you the Navy Grog.
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Part of the fun of being an adult is getting to make your own rules, for the most part. So, if I want to try something new and I have the stuff, I can do that. If I want to go into a full blown cocktail at 10 AM, who is gonna stop me? You? Societal conventions? Propriety? D. None of the above? I’ll tell you that a cocktail before breakfast is terribly efficient, getting that alcohol down your gullet early, pre-coffee, with no annoying foods to get in the way of your weekend buzz. So how do we do that? Easy, you start the day with a classic Martinez.
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When this all started I didn’t realize how picking a drink to make would be such a challenge. I just kinda wanted to practice making drinks. It has evolved into making things I’ve always wanted to try and, honestly, trying to not make a tiki drink every night. The thing is, I don’t really have a plan, I just make whatever strikes my fancy, usually inspired by whatever is on my mind, and today, I’ve been thinking about my friend, West Coast Jenn. So, in her honor we are making the 12 Mile Limit.
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Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” has popped up a lot for me lately. I’ve always loved it, a song of questions, reminding us of the trade offs we make along the way. Inviting us to examine how we got here, what we gave up, without really asking if things are better. Are they? I don’t know, it sure doesn’t feel like it, but they say it is always darkest before the storm. I know one thing is for certain, there are a whole lot of folks that I wish were here. So settle in, get a little introspective and join me as we exchange our walk on parts in the war for “The Leading Role” in a cage, so to speak.
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There is a theory that you can define eras of modern history by examining the advertisements of the day. That society’s perceived needs and their remedies say more about what the people were really thinking than the official record. If that’s true then it is safe to say we are in the age of the limp dick. Seriously, every third commercial asks “Do you struggle with erectile dysfunction?” There are so many that even if you are flying the flag at mostly full mast you begin to wonder, am I ok? When do I get to join the club and try one of the dazzling arrays of male enhancements? Well, this is not a new problem and today we are gonna mix up a drink inspired by one of the 20th century’s more interesting cures, the Monkey Gland.
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It is Heidi’s birthday, so I wanted to make something northwesty in her honor. Even though I have had my fair share of drinks up that way I couldn’t think of anything that embodied Seattle, except for Raiiiiinnnnnneeeeerrrrr Beeeeeeerrrrr. Well, that and an amazing gin and tonic I once had in a bar under Pioneer Square where they made their own spruce and lavender infused liqueur as a float. Since I couldn’t infuse my own liqueur or resurrect a 30 year old beer commercial, I turned to the internet. That delivered lots of places to drink and definitely gave me a thirst for travel. “Perdition take thee, thou all-destroying but unconquering 2020; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee” he said with a hearty nod and a bit of paraphrasery to Starbuck’s boss. Sorry, where was I, oh yes, the drink. Over and over, I found references to an intriguing drink, with a flambé middle step, from Jamie Boudreau at the amazing looking Canon. So grab your tins as we make the Rubicon.
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I had other plans for tonight, but when I got home Laura had brought me a big cup of pebble ice with a request for something tiki. I ran through my mental Rolodex (that’s an old school contacts app, for you kids) trying to find something I had all the ingredients to make and sounded appetizing. I settled on a classic Singapore Sling, but after making it, taking pictures and drinking it, I decided to switch and make an infinitely more interesting variation, the South Seas Sling.
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