7.16.2010

naming rights

It is so very unfair: A Lady has a namesake cocktail that’s all delicious and classic, and yet my best shot at imbibing my own eponymous cocktail is to frequent the same bar often enough that the bartender starts referring to a glass of whiskey as a “D”. I feel left out.


A Lady: I'll mixologize a Horst for you, and we can toast with when we meet.

D: Yay! It needs to have gin, whiskey, or champagne, fo' sho'. Otherwise the balance of my humors will be thrown off.

A Lady: Exactly. The Horst it is. I'm thinking some kind of a champagne cocktail? Champagne over muddled blueberries and lemon? Or gin muddled with blueberries and lemon, topped with champagne? Or whiskey with bitters and soda? Or a French lemonade but as follows: juice of half a lemon, 2 oz pisco, served over ice cubes in a highball and topped with soda, with a twist.

D: Oooh, boozy. Very close to a French 75- perhaps some sort of German riff on it, as I am freakishly 100% German, ancestrally?

A Lady: Bärenjäger topped with champagne, with a meyer lemon twist. Notice how I'm insisting on champagne?


Oh, brilliant. Yes, I am using this as an excuse to buy vrai champagne, and be snooty about it. After all, the bartender demands this. And if this means that I must drink those two bottles of cava currently chilling in my fridge to clear out refrigerator real estate to chill that champagne, well, I’m willing to make that extra effort.

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