While walking home, he was thinking about what to have for cocktail hour. He knew the fridge contained two fresh bottles of sweet and dry vermouth. A splash of either stirred with a heavy pour of gin would undoubtedly do the trick.
He walked into the apartment and hung up his coat before looking over the bar cart that . . .
As he crossed the tracks on Canal he could faintly make out the gruff voice of a trombone from deep within the Quarter. He glanced down at his wrist out of habit and laughed because he had intentionally left his watch at the hotel. No matter. Crossing this historic street was as close to stepping back in time as one can get. The . . .
Water sputtered out of the tap as he turned the knobs to full blast. He couldn't remember the last time he actually drew a bath for himself. While the water ran he went to make a drink in the kitchen. A tub cocktail would surely help during the soak.
He looked funny standing in the kitchen; bare-chested with a stiff . . .
A long time ago he made a personal rule not to have a toddy unless there was an inch of snow on the ground. He, of course, made exceptions for a sore throat regardless of the forecast. A few more minutes of accumulation and he would be in the clear.
He placed a kettle on the stove and turned the fire on. While that got all . . .
It had been raining all day. He kicked off his soggy shoes the second he got the door open and decided then and there he would be staying in for the evening. There was no need to brave the elements and cooking dinner at home sounded nice.
There was a chicken in the fridge that would do well in the oven and throwing together . . .
The home bar trifecta
To cut to the chase, I am talking about making the bedrock of your home bar a bases-loaded collection of gin, whiskey and white wine.
A simple drink that has been lost at sea for too long is the Pink Gin. You have a few choices here: bitters left in or bitters swirled and tossed. Also you can take it chilled or at room temp. The chilled version would be very similar to how Luis Buñuel took his Martini in a way.
The purists say it can only be . . .