My Favorite Spanish Daisy: The Margarita

The summer season has a reputation of being the time when the world seems to slow down and get a little bit lazy. Schools shut down, television goes into reruns, and the hot, humid weather seems to create the effect of slowing people's vibrancy. But nowhere is the sluggishness and lack of care more represented (in my opinion) than in the Margarita.

Now margaritas are somewhat Cointreauve--excuse me, controversial--both in its history and its composition. Many restaurants will offer a variety of tequila-based fruity drinks over crushed ice and call them margaritas. Only recently did I start taking umbrage at that. It is partly based in our society's total ignorance and lack of appreciation for alcohol and fine cocktails. But I also find it somewhat insulting that if I were to order a margarita, I will be presented with a mixture of tequila and syrup most likely laden with high fructose corn syrup. If that's what I wanted, I would get a Slurpee and customize it myself. It would certainly be more cost effective than paying through the nose for it at a Mexican restaurant. The frozen margarita is a complete bastardization of the sophistication of the original drink. As Drinkboy once said, "No, a properly made margarita never sees the inside of a blender."

Which brings me to a tangential point: to those experimenting with different spirits trying to come up with new cocktails, drinks should be simple. Simplicity allows for easier memorization, but mostly it makes it so that the flavors of each spirit do not overtake each other. The beauty of the original margarita is its elegance and the way that it maintains all the qualities of the Mexican style of drinking tequila without making you look like a foolish sot.

The Original Margarita (official IBA recipe):

1. 35 mL Tequila Blanco
2. 20 mL Triple Sec or Cointreau
3. 15 mL Lemon or Lime juice

Run half a lime around the rim of a glass and dip in salt. Shake the tequila, triple sec, and juice over ice and strain into salt-rimmed glass.

After a few months of practice I have gotten to the point where I not only enjoy the Margaritas I make for myself, but I am confident that the Margaritas I make for others will impress them and totally alter their opinions of what a great Margarita should be. In my margaritas, the harshness of the tequila is offset by the slight orange flavor from the Cointreau and the tartness of the lime juice, and the salt balances the sweet fruitiness, and the sum of the flavors linger in your mouth for a few seconds after each sip. Besides which, it's refreshing to boot!

Much like many mysterious elements of our world's history, the true origins of the original Margarita may never be known for sure. Most origin stories revolve around a bartender creating the drink and naming it after a woman somehow related to the management/owner of the particular establishment at which said bartender was employed at the time. With the exception of the names of the bartenders and the bars all of these stories are basically the same.

However, my personal favorite Margarita story says that there was a bartender named John Durlesser working at Tail o' the Cock in Los Angeles and presented it at the All American Cocktail contest in 1949. John and his girlfriend (a Mexican lady named Margarita) were avid hunters. One day out in the fields, Margarita was killed in an accident, and Durlesser created the Margarita to honor her memory, using ingredients intended to incorporate his lady friend's Mexican heritage. I find this to be the most poetic history behind the Margarita, but also was the crux of an especially heart-wrenching episode of the brilliant, slice of life anime, Bartender.



So please, do yourself a favor and the next time you go to a Mexican restaurant and are tempted by what they call a margarita, take a pass. Order a Negro Modelo or a Bohemia instead, wait until you get home and make a real Margarita. You deserve it after drinking so many alcoholic Slurpees.

I need a drink after all this...

It's been almost a year since I was at all active here.

I have excuses, but still feel remiss for not giving my column its due diligence. Excuse number one is my ongoing excuse for the last 22 months and will continue to be so for the next 16-20 years I estimate. As none of our readers know, I have several pets in the house; two dogs, two cats, and a 22-month-old daughter. Most of my time away from work is spent taking care of and spending time with my family. When little Baby Face is napping is when I usually catch up on some housework, and when she is down for the night, I will either collapse from fatigue or spend a little time sittin' and sippin' with my wife.

As a sort of indicator of how long it's been since I posted last, my last entry referred to Gina as my girlfriend.

My second excuse is a compendium of life-changing processes which have taken place over the last ten months or so. Moving from one house into another rendered me without Internet access for about five months as we worked out our new budget and went through different jobs, getting married took most of my mental energy away from things other than getting our tax/legal information sorted out, and setting out to buy the house we've moved into has scrambled my brain like a tornado tearing through a poultry farm.

But now that things are starting to settle down a little, I'll do my best to get back on the keyboard and report about my latest adventures in spirits. I feel that it would be the best thing for the World Wide Web if I had as big a presence as possible. But mostly I'm just trying to prove to Joe that I am able to maintain regular attention to a blog so that he'll let me write for Critical Hit.

Trader Vics for Tiki Tuesday!

Got off work, leapt out the door, lost my umbrella to the wind. Great.

Didn't need it, but it's cold outside.

I head to Trader Vic's with this on my mind.

Trader Vic's is a tiki lounge/restaurant specializing in Polyniesian cusine and swank cocktails. The last time I was here with my folks we share some mediocre food and a pretty sweet volcano cocktail. I had a blast. This time it was drinks only, as I arrived after the main kitchen had shut down.

Ran into my crew, did the hellos. Refrained from throwing out a "Who wants to party with the Drink-Bot?!" and sat down. Sipped a few cocktails that were already out. Some were sweet little things, o

ne was a little rough around the edges, but both tasted just a little on the weak side. This worried me. Not that I wanted to get plastered but I guess that hanging out with pirates will get

you used to cocktails with nards.

Here's what I got:

Navy Grog

• 1/2 oz Grand Marnier
• 1/2 oz Gold Rum
• 1/2 oz Dark Rum
• 1/2 oz Light Rum
• 1 oz Grapefruit Juice
• 1 oz Orange Juice
• 1 oz Pineappe Juice

1. Dump the liquor into a Collins glass with ice.
2. Pour the juice on top and give it a shake.
3. Add a pineapple slice

The Navy Grog was good. I expected rums (orignally, Grog was watered down rum given to sailors on board British navy vessels. It was watered down to make it last longer.), and I expected maybe a little lemonade or something citrussy. It came down good and fruity, the rum was right on top of the palate and it was tasty. And easy sipper. I threw it back in minutes.

Pimm's Cup

• 2 oz Pimm's Cup No. 1
• 3 oz Lemonade
• Twist of Lemon to garnish
• Cucumber slice too!

1. Pimm's over ice.
2. Lemonade
3. Garnish

Pimm's Cup was...pink. Very red in color, I wasn't really expecting that. And for those of you who don't know, here's what Wikipedia has to say about Pimm's Cup:

Pimm's is a brand of alcoholic beverages now owned by Diageo. Its most popular product is Pimm's No. 1 Cup, a gin-based beverage that can be served both on ice or in cocktails. It has a dark tea colour with a reddish tint, and tastes subtly of spice and citrus fruit. It is often taken with lemonade, as well as various fruits including apples, oranges and lemons.

So that's that.

It tasted weak...like something wasn't there enough. Watery, that's a good approximation. I couldn't taste any liquor in it. To me, the taste of a liquor is in that subtle (or not so subtle) bite it gives you. Teases with a flavor, kicks you with a fuel. This Pimm's Cup didn't have that at all. Nevertheless, I let it slide by. By the time I was done drinking I was twenty bucks in the hole, and only just THEN beginning to feel the pull of a tipsy-ness. I left my friends with jovial goodbyes and hit the road.

All in all, I am going to say I enjyoed the cocktails. I did. But I want to try making them myself, or get them in a different venue. I could make them cheaper, and probably with a little more flavor. I want to go back for their food again though, and give it a spin. I dug the vibe, and the waitress was awesome about our large party. The drinks though: girly by definition, girly in strength, manly in potential. We'll see what I can do...

*rubs hand together*

Mulled Wine for the Holidays!

My phone has a great app called MDrinks that delivered to me this holiday morsel: Mulled Wine. I always wanted a good recipe for spiced wine and this one was simple, straight-forwards and easy to make. I will share it with you thus:

• 3 cups of water
• 1 cup of sugar
• 2 sticks of cinnamon
• 12 cloves (whole, not ground!)
• 1 lemon peel
• 750ml of red wine (I used a pinot noir, 750ml is usually 1 bottle of wine)
• 1/4 cup of Brandy (I used Christian Brothers brandy, great and affordable if you're using it to cook. Hair of the dog if you're serving it straight up.)

1. Simmer the water, sugar, cinnamon, cloves and lemon in a BIG pot (stainless steel is best) for 10 minutes. Do NOT allow to boil.
2. After the 10 minutes, add the wine and bring up to a coffee temperature. Nice and hot! Once again, DO NOT BOIL.
3. Add the brandy, give it a brisk stirring and SERVE.

This drink is delicious! I wish I'd shared it sooner, because it's the holidays in a glass. The wine smells strongly of cloves due to their already pungent scent, but the flavor is sweet and savory, deep and full. It's fruity, with a smooth finish and just a few glasses will have you feeling in the holiday spirit (read: jolly.) My sisters don't really like it, one commenting that it made her feel like she was "In Lord of the Rings," which only furthered my pride in the drink. My family doesn't drink much, but those who did loved it. I served the same recipe to a holiday party my friend Marty threw and it was a big hit.

Easy to make, delicious to drink and REALLY wonderful smelling, if you ever considered a great party drink during these cold days CONSIDER THIS.

Word, and Happy Holidays!

-Joe

Bacardi Mojitos in bottles

Last night me and Big Jim sat down for some gaming.  We popped in Silent Hill: Homecoming and chilled for a while, before I suggested grabbing a beverage.  The mini-fridge in my basement is usually stocked with Vess soda, so Jim went to look.  He exclaimed loudly and I inquired what was amiss?  The fridge had in it Bacardi Silver Mojitos and cans of Budweiser Select from when we chilled together in August.  We rejoiced.

The Bacardi Silver Mojito is a stylish bottle with a twist off cap, filled with a cloudy liquid.  I have three varieties of it in my fridge but I'm only going to review one for now: the classic.

It's sweet.  Damn sweet.  Bacardi Silver is like Rum Lite, and this is Rum Lite with sugar on top.  It's got very little mint kick to it, and a lot of...sweet.  Ehhh...I'm afraid to have more than one, my stomach might turn.  But that doesn't change one fact:  It's damn good.  Refreshing to the utmost.  Chilly and fine.  I'd enjoy one of these over maybe a movie from pay-per-view, or Halo 3.  Tonight in fact I am enjoying one whilst playing Left 4 Dead (And taking a break to blog about booze).

Why not, I'll try to Mango flavor as well (They also have a Pomergranate flavor...chic).

Mango is...not as good.  Smells mango-y, and the first sip is rewarding but it has a funky aftertaste, and just reverts to the classic flavor a little too quickly for me.  Best bet is stick with the classic mojito flavor we know and love...or get the fixins and make yourself a caipairinhas.

Bottom Line:  One's company, Two's a bad decision.  Enjoy one during a hot summer day, chilled well.  They're pretty good.  Stick to beer if you want to chug something though.  Chug a few of these and you'll let loose that ole' Technicolor yawn.

PS: The beer was skank as hell for some reason...ich.  I need a Berryweiss.

Caipirinhas and bad bartenders.

My family and I went to TGI Fridays to celebrate my coming home for the holidays.  Their menu reads like an encyclopedia, and after Volume 1 I was already done/bored.  The drink menu read like this: Take the name of a basic drink (Long Island Iced Tea, Mudslide, Mojito...etc) and add ULTIMATE to it.  I was unimpressed in the long run.  But something did stand out: Caipirinhas.  

I had never had one.  I'd heard of them to be sure, but I was intruged.  After wading through the various ways Friday's offers to muss it up, I came across the Caipirinhas Tradicional, which I quickly ordered.

Caipirinhas

• 1.75 oz of Cachaca
• 1/2 a fresh lime cut into 4 wedges
• 2 teaspoons of superfine sugar

1. Cut the lime into 4 wedges and place at the bottom of a rocks glass.
2. Add the two teaspoons of sugar, and muddle heartily!
3. Add ice.
4. Add the Cachaca, and shake.
5. Serve!

It was refreshing and fine, super sweet.  The lime flavor was almost sweet too, serving to balance out the flavors (I would have preferred even a little more lime maybe).  It was fantastic.  My mother, who doesn't like hard alcohol, enjoyed it immensely.  I compared it to a mojito, for it's balance of a biting flavor (mojito's mint to the Caipirinhas' lime) with a lot of sugar.  It's also easy as pie to make, and muddling always looks impressive.  I enjoyed the Caipirinha very much.

Later that night, my dogg Stu and I went to a bar in South City St. Louis...that I forget the name of.  Probably a good thing.

It was a good scene.  Smoking inside (WOOT), vintage pinball machines, some kickin live music.  But the bar...damn.  Here's where the night got really iffy.

First off, I tried Bell's Cherry Stout.  I found it quite disgusting.  It tasted like Robitussin cough syrup, so I powered through my glass like a madman insane.  Stu loved it, I couldn't handle it.  It was bitter, and the cherry flavor was so strong and foul I made faces all through it.  Geh.  

Second drink was called a Tennesee Walking, and it was a house cocktail.  Jim Beam Black, Lime Juice, Orange Juice and simple syrup.  Well it started good and well but as I watched the bartender prepare the drink, he left out the lime juice.  Served it anyways!  Why not!  There was so much OJ I may as well not have been drinking anything at all.

Bottom line: I need to drink better while I'm in town.  Let's get to making that happen.

Gin Gimlet, part 2

She's danger in heels.

The red dress makes her stand out like a strawberry in the sand, flowing and matting against her legs thanks to the ceiling fan's breeze. Her gloved hands are carrying that damned purse (I bought her that goddamn purse), slung over her left shoulder and close to her ample breasts. I've never really been a materialistic man but this girl has the most perfect pair of breasts I have ever laid eyes on. The dress didn't hide them well enough, despite it's "native" look. Her head was wrapped in the same red cloth and her sunglasses were large and gaudy. Her dark hair makes it seem almost like she fits in among the people behind her on the street. A single strand of it falls across her face and she brushes it away, an automatic action. One look at her walking in and I disapproved instantly. She walks with an air of authority. In this circumstance, and with me holding all the cards, it wasn't her place to do so at all. It made me want to smile. I sipped my drink to hide it.

She walks straight up to me, as if to plant a kiss. I see it in her stride. Same stride for two years. I raise my glass again and block my face with the gin, speaking through it.

"A little forward, don't you think?" I sip the gin, feeling it work it's way into my senses. I set the glass down and wait for it.

"Always cool, aren't we Sal?" It's amusing to me, that when an organization of criminals discovers my real name, it's not my real name at all. I still wait for it.

"It took Henry a little while to find you, you know. We didn't expect the gamble in Berlin honestly. Thankfully I was there to stir through your dramatics, love."

I hate when she calls me love. She has this perfectly applied Russian accent, a fake one might I add, that she knows drives me crazy. She does it a lot. She has a habit of using her tongue too much on the L in the word "love", and it throws me back to a lot more private a time, with a lot less clothing on. I mentally kick myself for losing focus.

"Anyways, enough of the old times. Henry sent me, honestly, to cut you a deal."

Read: Henry sent me to seduce you into bed, so he can deal you a knife to the throat.

She opens her purse and takes out a large roll of money. My eyebrows perk just slightly. She smiles, and next to it holds up a human finger. My eyebrows draw tighter. It's a girl's finger. It's her finger. She takes off the glove of her right hand to show me. Her fifth finger is missing, bandaged crudely. Her laughing eyes take on a sudden and terrifyingly pitiable look to them. She is about to cry.

"Turn over the plans, or Henry will kill me."

My eyes dart briefly to the window. In the corner of the window is the tip of a rifle, just a few centimeters, pointed directly at her. She's starting to lose her composure. Poor thing, it must have taken her every last drop of sanity to get through that speech without breaking the spell. Now she's got nothing left. I drink the last drop of the gimlet, my mind loose enough and just dull enough to allow me to do what happens next. I smile and nod, reaching into my coat for the carefully folded plans, but I come out with my gun. Clicking back the hammer, the gun rises swiftly and stops perfectly. She stares down the barrel, the tears starting. She looks up at me, into my cold eyes. I wink at her once, and her eyes intensify into something I can get behind. Hope.

"Brace yourself, and I apologize in advance for this."
I coil my legs and spring forwards, wrapping my arms around her tightly. She's tensed her muscles for the impact, good girl. The bullet from the assailant flies through my shoulder, leaving a bloody streak and stinging like ten thousand bastards. I whip my gun sideways and squeeze off a round. The gun vanishes back through the window and I hear screams outside. I fall to the floor. She crawls over to me, the waterworks all the way on now, and grabs my coat.

"You idiot! You damn idiot do you think running will do us any good?!" she bawls.

"Nobody said I was running, babe. Now shut up and get down, I've got work to do!"