In the United States, our ideas on drinking are always so strict. Liquor is a deadly serious topic while an aperitif should be lighthearted. It seems as if we have forgotten about aperitif cocktails while the low-ABV and spiritfree movement are catching hold. We are passing over the original low-ABV OGs. This, of course, is nothing . . .
Bars are funny places he thought to himself as he strolled into one of his favorites. It was busier and louder than he liked, but that wouldn't dissuade him from a drink. He preferred a calm bar, and this one generally was, but he was earlier than usual.
A couple was paying at the end of the bar, and he knew the . . .
The buzzer sounded, and the game was over. To be honest, the game was over at half time, but nobody wanted to say it. He switched off the television and walked towards the kitchen. Passing the bedroom, he could see that she had already dozed off. He quietly closed the door.
It was past his bedtime, but it isn't every . . .
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 . . .
The bartender didn't seem bothered by his request for a spoonful of absinthe in his martini. Normally he took a martini as any sensible person would: gin with a touch of vermouth and a squeeze of lemon oil to garnish. Today, however, he was in the mood for something slightly different.
To anyone looking at his drink . . .
The time had come. It was do or die. If he dawdled it would all be a waste. The pearlescent liquid winked at him in the bottom of the straight sided crystal glass. "Goodbye."
No longer flirting with freezing temperatures the drink had grown-up. Mellowed. Aged. He remembered only ten minutes ago when it was fierce . . .
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 . . .