You win some. You lose some. Some get rained out. This is the way of life, in three simple, easy to swallow sentences. What it doesn’t tell you is how to deal with things depending on the vagaries of fate and weather. Today, it rained. I couldn’t do anything about that. I could, however, control my response, so I walked on in the storm with my head held high and when I got home I dried off and made a drink. In the spirit of not letting your conditions control your attitude, won’t you please join me now, as we stand and make the El Coronel.
Spring is just around the corner. I know because the buttercups are blooming right along side the flutterbups. You can’t always trust them, sometimes they pop up and hold their little heads high above the snow, but mostly, when you see them, you can start looking for your shorts. I have a particular field of buttercups that I always look for, planted on “the home place” by my great grandma Fannie Taylor, affectionately known throughout the family as “Mammy”. Every year, when that field where the old house stood turns yellow, we stop one afternoon to pick Mammy’s buttercups. There is no real need, I have some of them transplanted to my house, as does my mom and my grandma, but there is something nice about walking across that field where my grandpa played and worked as a little boy and my mom learned to ride a bike. So, in the spirit of connection and the little rituals that make us who we are, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the classic, Mamie Taylor.
One of the cool things about this “Cocktails from Quarantine” journey has been the discovery of new ingredients and techniques. While I have no practical, real world way to use these new skills, unless someone is looking for a guest lecturer to teach their cocktail classes, I have really enjoyed expanding my horizons and trying new things. I was already digging on bitters and liqueurs, but over the past year, I have learned way more about the bitter amaros than I ever expected to. For the most part I did not like them. I understood the concepts and I got why other people enjoyed them, but they just weren’t my thing. It is kind of like wine, I often enjoy wine, but I don’t really understand it the way true aficionados do. I get why terroir matters, in all things, but I am lost when it comes to the nuts and bolts of pairings and why this grape brings that flavor. My early experiences with amaros were mostly centered around bartending buddies who all seem to eventually gravitate toward the bitter side of the table and delight in creating “handshake” drinks made to turn the tongues of unsuspecting dilettantes inside out. My own tentative steps into amaros have only served to show me the depths of my ignorance, but I am beginning to get it. There is something really lovely hiding just beyond the sorrow in the depths of bitterness. So, in the spirit of expanding our horizons, won’t you please join me as we stand and make the Braulio Sour.
Sometimes you know things aren’t going to work out. Not to be a pessimist, but I have concerns about tonight’s drink. It won’t be the drink’s fault, I am just not feeling it. I realized halfway through that I had chosen a drink from my big list of possibilities that I wasn’t particularly excited about. It is almost like I instinctively knew to not waste any effort on making something I was looking forward to. Without considering things, I chose a drink that I was less likely to enjoy thereby setting up the conditions to make my prophecy self-fulfilling. It happens. So, in the spirt of unconscious self-sabotage, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Ce Soir.
Today marks one year of official pandemic life. It is hard to believe. In some ways it feels like it has been forever since we lived “normal” lives, on the other hand it feels like just a few weeks ago when we were freaking out trying to find masks, hand sanitizer and toilet paper. It is amazing how much life has changed in the last 365 days. How much more we know about the disease that changed all of our lives. How much we have lost over that time, how many friends and family members are no longer with us. How much we have gained in appreciation of each other and the things that really matter in life. How much we have learned in how to be self sufficient or maybe I should say pod sufficient. I know that my zombie apocalypse team requirements and expectations of who would make it have changed significantly. It has been quite a journey and now we can finally see a safe harbor on the horizon, if we can just stay the course a little longer. This is the toughest part, holding on when every part of your fiber longs to be with friends again. When that temptation calls out to you from the shore, beckoning you to come visit, after all you deserve a break, right? So, in the spirit of doing the hard things, especially when you don’t want to, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Song of the Siren.
There are lots of things that were not made to stand the test of time. Well, not originally, anyway. I often cringe when I look back at things I loved in the past, especially entertainment. A few days ago, I was explaining the allure of Knight Rider to the K.I.D.D. Honestly, I was trying to explain the whole vehicle as hero thing, embodied in that show, Airwolf, Battle of the Planets and even the Dukes of Hazzard. How we would sit there and watch, rapt, as we waited for the next appearance of the vehicle on screen, doing heroic stuff, often using the same clips shown over and over, repackaged each week as if they were new. I checked the current exchange rates and found that pictures are still worth 1,000 words each and that depending on the provenance, moving pictures could be incalculably more valuable in conveying messages to young, impressionable minds. After checking my account, I fired up some Knight Rider for the boy and cringed as 48 year old me was embarrassed for how much 10 year old me loved that show. To be fair, I wasn’t listening to the dialogue or trying to follow the one plot they repainted and passed off as new each week, I was just waiting for the car and the action. As bad as the show was, there were some moments of brilliance, and that Trans Am disguised as the Knight Industries Two Thousand, still rocks. So, in the spirit of the things that survived the test of time to outlast their inspiration, please join me as we stand and make, the Rob Roy.
Asimov said, “Education isn’t something you can finish.” In fact, he wrote a great deal on the subject and the ridiculous idea that formal education was a rite of passage and that once you have passed beyond it you should leave reading books, having ideas and asking questions behind with other childish things. When I found myself with a surplus of experimental smoky scotch and banana based tiki drinks, rather than laying them aside, I opted to delve a little deeper into this bit of nearly forgotten lore. So, in that spirit of continuing education, won’t you join me now as we stand and make, The Banana Stand.
I don’t generally follow the news of “royals” whether they are from Kansas City or the UK. I wish them both well, I just don’t get the fascination. I’m not knocking it, just saying it’s not my bag. That kind of luxe just ain’t for us, as the kids say. Apparently, there was some hullabaloo over an interview between Oprah, Meghan and the Harry formerly known as Prince. Some family business was addressed publicly, some feelings were hurt and the gods of ratings rejoiced. Honestly, I am only marginally aware of this because it seemed to dominate the morning news cycle, perhaps when I learn more, I shall care more deeply. Perhaps not. The point is, my choice of drink today has absolutely no bearing at all on this coincidence. I saw something that looked nice, I wanted to try it and I indulged my desires, with agency. So, in the spirit of going ahead and doing your own thing, even when circumstances conspire to make that unnecessarily confusing, won’t you join me now as we stand and make Her Majesty.
It’s been a “bit of a day” as Lin Manuel would say. I spent my morning revisiting a time in life several years ago that I would prefer to leave in the rearview mirror. I don’t want to forget, it was definitely a learning experience. It was also a tough time and expensive lesson about trusting your gut and being careful who you put your faith in, despite what the “pro’s” are telling you. Mark Twain was right about good judgement coming from experience which usually comes from bad judgement. Going back over all that brought up the bitterness and resentment I figured was behind me. Still it’s a gorgeous day outside and I’m not gonna let it keep me down. So in the spirit of keeping the bitter stuff out of your life and in your glass, won’t you please join me as we stand and make Eeyore’s Requiem.
Tonight’s drink is a special request, from the kid of all people. His Mom is feeling under the weather this evening after her dose of vaccine and he thought she might like something special to cheer her up. I know that when I am running a mild fever a nice cold cocktail is just the thing. No, that’s wrong isn’t it? Anyway, he’s a kid and doesn’t really understand the human body’s complex relationship with alcohol, but his heart is in the right place. He had an idea for a treat to go along with her lemon cookie from Crumbl, so he went to the fridge, brought me a jar and asked if I could make a drink with it. A little research later and here we are. So, in the spirit of making things better, when you can, won’t you join me now as we stand and make, the Double Lemon Gimlet.
