I am feeling a bit contrarian and stubborn this evening. I don’t know why, it just happens sometimes. They are calling for an ice storm later, but it’s been warm all day, so I want a treat. I figure I deserve it. I mean I got through the day. I didn’t have a treat yesterday or the day before. Honestly, I am not sure if I have been good enough to deserve a treat, but I am having one anyway. So in the spirt of delayed pleasure and finally getting something sweet, won’t you please join me now as we stand and make La Vida Nola.
I said I wasn’t going to do themes, but here we are with our third Ferris Bueller’s Day Off inspired drink in a row. This was not my plan, but the kid really enjoyed the movie and it inspired a bunch more conversation about all kinds of things. One of our realizations is that somehow he has never been to Chicago, which is weird considering how much time I have spent there and the fact that we announced his impending arrival from the Windy City. He was also very curious about the cars in the movie. We do a lot of car stuff together so that made sense. When he asked me about that cool looking car in the movie, I immediately launched into why the ’61 Ferrari 250 California GT was important only to have him stop me. “Not the Ferrari, I know about that, what was that cool car his sister drove?” So, in honor of Jeannie Bueller’s sweet ride, won’t you please join me now as we stand and make the El Fiero.
What the actual fuck, y’all? This is not fine. It seems kinda silly to make a drink, even though I feel we may need it more than we ever have. The funny thing is, I have known what drink I was going to make tonight, for a while. I assumed that today would be kinda crazy and full of grandstanding politicians, but who could imagine this horrible result? So, please join me as we stand and make the Scorched Earth.
Lagniappe is a French term that means “a little extra”, that little something that you weren’t expecting. Today a friend shared a little lagniappe with me. A couple of actual months ago, or three relative years in pandemic perception time, I discovered “sal de chapulin” or “grasshopper salt” and its relationship with mezcal. I shared some with a friend who’s family is from Oaxaca to test the quality. I have zero experience in ground grasshoppers mixed with salt and citrus, so she served as my guide. Well, today, she continued my education by bringing me a sackful of chapulins. A whole little bag of grasshoppers salted and covered in citrus and spices. Turns out they are super tasty, but all that salt makes a fella thirsty and makes him think about that delightfully smoky, Oaxacan mezcal. So, won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Mezcalita.
We are going to have some fun with our seventh entry of The Thirteen Drinks of Halloween. Think of this as an “after dinner” drink because it’s on the sweet side. Let’s be honest you can’t even see the dry side from where this drink stands, but what would Halloween be without some tricks and treats? So, please join me now as we stand and make The Eternal Kiss.
We all knew it was coming. Well, a couple of thousand of my closest friends did, anyway. I should be in Rome this weekend, laughing with friends, eating at Jamwich every other meal, setting new records in their escape rooms, grabbing drink at The Forge and generally having a great time. We couldn’t get together for our long weekend of foolishness and adventure this year, but we’ve still got our memories. So, in honor of the fun we’ve had and the fun yet to come, won’t you join me now as we stand and make The Racketeer.
The world used to be a bigger place. There were lots of corners to hide in. Remember the days of regional delicacies? Stuff you could only get if you went to a particular area or place. Hatch Green Chiles in New Mexico, cheese curds in Wisconsin, scrapple in Pennsylvania or Jersey’s Taylor Ham. You could live a couple of hours away and have never heard of a loose burger, fry bread or chislic. I kind of miss those days of culinary exploration, even when it wasn’t remotely fancy. Twenty years ago, we always stopped at Culver’s when we were in Wisconsin, Five Guys when near DC or Jack in the Box in L.A. Today, we can visit any of those within a mile of each other in Franklin, Tennessee. We have more choices, but as these local flavors expand across the country, even in these standardized ways, we are getting a bit more homogenized, a bit more boring. So, in honor of a shrinking world, please join me now as we stand and make my version of a Texas classic, Smoke on the Ranch Water
It’s not always that complicated. Occasionally, these drinks happen without a lot of thought going into them. Well, not a lot of thought on my part, anyway. Sometimes you stay out too late and just want to crank up some good tunes and make a drink for the pure pleasure of it. That’s what we have here tonight, just enough words to get us to the break and a heck of a drink to boot. So join me now as we stand and make the Rusty Switchblade.
I had today all planned out. I had bananas I need to use, a hankering for something chilled, some new rum I wanted to try, an impassioned rant about the present state of local school systems and what you are not hearing about on the news, but then I had to throw it all out. Why? Well, it is all Alicia’s fault. She decided she had to be born today, well today, some indeterminate number of years ago, probably in Texas. I am not even sure how long ago she arrived on the scene. I mean it is easy to love her as a friend and supremely decent human, but do I have to respect her as an elder? Chalk up her excesses to youthful exuberance? I do not even know. It is all very confusing for me and, par for the course, now that she’s involved in the day things are getting complicated, but infinitely more interesting. So, let’s make a drink for her, something I can reasonably justify as being chosen especially for her on her special day, as one does. Won’t you join me now as we stand and make, the Tia Mia.
For the most part, I write like I speak. When I am writing I think in speech patterns, kind of like I am talking to you directly. I put in commas where I would naturally pause. I use semicolons for soft stops, a longer pause that continues on in the same vein. I love ellipses because sometimes…just, sometimes…you need to take a longer moment to reflect…before going on. I don’t worry about the grammatical rules so much, since we are gathered here virtually and informally, but I try to get most of them right. Except for run-on sentences, I simply adore them. I try to break it up. Honestly, I do. Sometimes. I love the rhythm of speech and there are times when you just have to let your words run free, unrestrained by grammatical bridles, to communicate, to create images of the mind, to stream along till their obvious, or not so obvious, conclusion. I am not doing this for a grade, so I’m not gonna sweat the details, but I do sometimes worry about them. After the drink, we will continue our education theme this week and delve into why writing here causes a bit of internal tension. But first, will you please join me as we stand and make the Bow & Arrow.
