While in Arizona last month, I picked up a bottle of Everclear. I had it at my friend's bachelor party when I was 19 and remembered it being an unpleasant experience. I also know that it's not meant to be had straight (it even says so on the bottle). So, I've a bottle in my collection. I ended up deciding on pineapple juice as a mixer. And I daresay, it works. I tend to keep it to just the one drink though, as it's not actually that great tasting. Everclear imparts a very boozy flavor, even when mixed with more mixer than I would use with something like vodka or light rum.
But what about that bachelor party? James was, at the time, one of my best friends. He was also, at one time, quite the hellraiser. But that was before we met. You see, James is also several years older, and had put most of that behind him. He was now a father and also helping to raise his bride's-to-be two boys. However, the Everclear unlocked something that night (it was probably just the amount he had to drink, and not any specific spirit) and he lost it. He jumped on a car and ended up punching the windshield a few times, cracking it in several large places. It took several grown men to pick him up and carry him from the car. He also could not recognize his fiancee when she finally came home from her bachelorette party (I'm told) and refused to let her in the bedroom. Somehow the Everclear became the culprit (and not James' obvious problem with alcohol) and the remainder was poured out a few weeks later at a BBQ, and set on fire. Everclear burns very brightly, in case you wondered.
I've never gone crazy from it. But don't drink it straight. It tastes like burning.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
Pimm's
Back in college, I was told by one of my English neighbors about Pimm's. She couldn't tell me what it was exactly, but just that it was an amazing thing they drank back home. Fast forward to my first year out of college, and I'm being told similar by my Oklahoman (I believe), actually is a grandma, co-worker. Pimm's is apparently the shit, regardless of age or national origin.
Finally, one fateful night in San Jose, I have Pimm's and ginger ale, and it was grand. Why wasn't I drinking this all along? And why does no one carry this? Of course, I can't really tell you what it is. It's a liqueur, per the label, and it tastes "herbal". There's a sweet bitterness (similar in fashion - but not flavor - to grapefruit). And it's awesome with ginger ale. I have yet to have it in lemonade, but that's supposed to be pretty good too. I'd give it a try tonight, but I'm taking the evening off from drinking. Between last night and tomorrow night, some rest must be had.
Finally, one fateful night in San Jose, I have Pimm's and ginger ale, and it was grand. Why wasn't I drinking this all along? And why does no one carry this? Of course, I can't really tell you what it is. It's a liqueur, per the label, and it tastes "herbal". There's a sweet bitterness (similar in fashion - but not flavor - to grapefruit). And it's awesome with ginger ale. I have yet to have it in lemonade, but that's supposed to be pretty good too. I'd give it a try tonight, but I'm taking the evening off from drinking. Between last night and tomorrow night, some rest must be had.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Let's start in the middle
So a friend of mine suggested I start a blog about drinking. Another friend suggested I do it, but maybe make it a little more, "Hey, here's an interesting drink to try. I'll let you know my impression," and less, "Hey, here's eleven interesting drinks to try tonight. And here's how I woke up spooning the toilet."
To be fair, I was already thinking of making it more the first anyway. Drinking stories are great, but not necessarily something to make a permanent, public record about.
But since I'm at work at the moment (typing this while on my break) I suppose this entry can be neither. Along the way, I'll try to find old posts I've made around the internet regarding drinks I've had and maybe even some drinking stories to boot. In fact, since you're here, I'll even tell a quick one.
Last week was a friend's going away happy hour. I'll call her Heather. We're at the second bar and have just secured seating. I ask if she wants a car bomb, as I haven't bought her a drink yet (though I did buy her boyfriend one already at the first place, in playful spite - so she'll have to take care of him the next day. Let's call him Ben.) She says sure and I head to the bar. "Seven car bombs." "We should be friends," a haggard drunk woman says. I half-smile and kinda nod. I help the bartender carry the drinks to our table and we toast to Heather and Ben. (I probably won't remember these names in future entries and end up giving them additional names.) Everyone pounds their drink. Everyone, except for Heather, who is slowly sipping what looks like a glass of caramel cottage cheese. "You're supposed to pound it before, well, that happens." Further drinks are had, additional places visited, cabs taken.
My favorite drink of the night was at Arch Rock Fish, called The El Presidio (yes, "the el," I know). From their website: Absolut Pears, St Germain Elderflower Liqueur, pink grapefruit juice, lemon juice, micro flower (apparently, though I'm sure it could be omitted); served chilled, straight-up.
To be fair, I was already thinking of making it more the first anyway. Drinking stories are great, but not necessarily something to make a permanent, public record about.
But since I'm at work at the moment (typing this while on my break) I suppose this entry can be neither. Along the way, I'll try to find old posts I've made around the internet regarding drinks I've had and maybe even some drinking stories to boot. In fact, since you're here, I'll even tell a quick one.
Last week was a friend's going away happy hour. I'll call her Heather. We're at the second bar and have just secured seating. I ask if she wants a car bomb, as I haven't bought her a drink yet (though I did buy her boyfriend one already at the first place, in playful spite - so she'll have to take care of him the next day. Let's call him Ben.) She says sure and I head to the bar. "Seven car bombs." "We should be friends," a haggard drunk woman says. I half-smile and kinda nod. I help the bartender carry the drinks to our table and we toast to Heather and Ben. (I probably won't remember these names in future entries and end up giving them additional names.) Everyone pounds their drink. Everyone, except for Heather, who is slowly sipping what looks like a glass of caramel cottage cheese. "You're supposed to pound it before, well, that happens." Further drinks are had, additional places visited, cabs taken.
My favorite drink of the night was at Arch Rock Fish, called The El Presidio (yes, "the el," I know). From their website: Absolut Pears, St Germain Elderflower Liqueur, pink grapefruit juice, lemon juice, micro flower (apparently, though I'm sure it could be omitted); served chilled, straight-up.
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