6:30 sharp...or YOU have to make the drinks!
For the last few months, my wife and I have been enjoying a cocktail hour at home. This is a daily thing unless we happen to be out for some reason. It is in both of our calendars and whoever is late has to make the drinks...which are martinis more often than not.
Why Cocktail Hour?
We are both pretty intense in . . .
Episode 2: The Martini
Here is Episode 2 of the Cocktail Doodle Podcast:
The original post can be found here if you like to follow along with the text.
I ordered a much better microphone today and a decent pair of . . .
He looked over the bottles behind the bar. They had multiplied since he stocked them last, but that was a long time ago. He was a patron now and the last drink of the night was always tricky. Through experience, he had learned what worked for him and what did not. As much as he enjoyed a whiskey before bed it never helped him come . . .
Throughout the years the methods had come and gone. Different bottles. Full to empty. He steadily searched for perfection. Each part of the drink had been examined with the strictest scrutiny. It was his favorite ritual.
The pieces of ice made his fingers look magnified as he held them. A swift smack with the back of a . . .
Time and Place for Cocktails
Certain drinks don't work in certain places. I have always known this but unless you change your geographic location and always drink the same thing it is often hard to tell.
Think cocktail bar vs dive and what you would order at each one. What if instead of a cocktail bar and dive it was urban and rural settings? What . . .
He reached for the tall heavy-bottomed crystal shaker he had used almost every day for as long as he could remember. It was a gift from his mother-in-law from some fancy place whose name he had forgotten. The sticker that signified it legitimate had long been removed the same way he always pulled the band off of a cigar before he . . .
It was a few minutes before five and there was an open seat at the bar. He hated sitting at a table so the tall vacant chair was a welcome sight. The seat had held his weight many times before.
A round leather circle slid across the marble toward him. The affable bartender pinned the coaster to the surface with a glass of . . .