This is my friend Patterson’s favorite cocktail. When I know he’s coming I usually have the ingredients in the shaker awaiting ice and a good shake so he can be sipping it as soon as he’s finished saying hello to the dogs (they adore him). We first sampled it at the bar in the lobby of the Bellagio on a recent trip to Vegas. Upon arriving home, we looked at recipes on the internet and cobbled this one together.
- 1.5 oz Kilo Kai spiced rum
- .5 oz orange curacao (I swap in Gran Gala)
- .5 oz lemon juice (lime, if you prefer)
- .5 oz simple syrup
- Cinnamon sugar for garnish
Rim your cocktail glass with cinnamon-sugar by running a bit of lemon around the rim to moisten and the gently rolling in a plate of the sugar mixture. Shake all liquid ingredients together with ice and strain into the prepared cocktail glass.
Two things piqued my interest today. Well, three, but I doubt you’ll find my nightcap all that entertaining. So go read this fantastic Up-With-America essay in the Times written by a nice young foreign gentleman which gave me a warm fuzzy:
When I finally got to America myself, I found that not only were the natives friendly and hospitable, they were also incredibly polite. No one tells you this about Americans, but once you notice it, it becomes one of their defining characteristics, especially when they’re abroad.
This is very strange, or at least it says something strange about the way that perception routinely conforms to the preconceptions it would appear to contradict. The archetypal American abroad is perceived as loud and crass even though actually existing American tourists are distinguished by the way they address bus drivers and bartenders as “sir” and are effusive in their thanks when any small service is rendered. We look on with some confusion at these encounters because, on the one hand, the Americans seem a bit country-bumpkinish, and, on the other, good manners are a form of sophistication.
And then there’s this.
Now the only way it could be better is if Mike Rowe were administrating the enema while wearing nothing but a leather harness and a smile.
So, like I said. Happy snow-day’s eve!
New Year’s Eve was a bust. I had a fever of 101.5 and terrible sinus drainage, a belated Christmas gift from family. Feeling moderately better today, but have cancelled Sunday brunch since I don’t want to spread the Ick to all of my suburban friends. It’s especially sucky as I had scheduled vacation this week and nothing’s more disappointing than having time off and spending the majority of it in bed with your legs decidedly not in the air.
On the plus side, on the couple of days that I actually was feeling decent, I was able to break in the new canning equipment my folks got me. I made 4 pints of pickled green beans for future Bloody Mary & martini garnishing and several jars of Vanilla-Bourbon Peach Jam to give as gifts. Canning is pretty darned cool and I’m really looking forward to City Market time.
I’ve tivo’d the Anderson Cooper/Kathy Griffin NYE extravaganza (I understand she topped last year’s “slap the dick out of your mouth” comment with an F-bomb) so I’ve got that to look forward to.
Hearne Christopher Jr. charged for allegedly getting lit and rolling through the ol’ PV. Who broke the story? Hearne Christopher Jr, duh. Because say what you will about the guy (major asshole, allegedly), he knows how to get ahead of the spin.
I don’t know if the po-po was flash-and-banging from the sight of the original incident (77th & Booth per Jr.) or not, but either way I don’t blame Jr. for carrying on until his car was safely ensconced in his own driveway because tow-and-impound charges can be a motherfucker.
A cursory search of Google News tells me the only media outlets to report on this so far (aside from HCJ’s blog) are the Plog (12 hours ago) and the Star (7 hours ago, because the 2 reporters left in that joint were probably busy with real-ish news). Did this make the local TV news? I don’t watch that crap ever since that our-reporter’s-trapped-in-a-burning-building shit because those d-bags are total hacks and unworthy of any attention whatsoever and also because ask around about a certain aging male Fox 4 reporter’s (alleged) shenanigans which are never reported on, just sayin’.
So, anyway, point being is when I’m arrested for being spit-roasted by an illegal immigrant and local radio host in a very public park(which I may or may not do regularly, allegedly) you, dear subscribers, will read it here first because Hearne has shown me the way. Praise blawgs!
Betty Bowers for the win.
Ladybird and I are hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for 25ish of our nearest and dearest tomorrow. We’ve split up a lot of the work and I’m very jazzed about how things are turning out. We’ve made a few concessions due to time, but the food’s going to be so tremendous, i don’t think anyone will mind drinking out of a plastic cup.
I’m providing dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, braised mushrooms, a congealed salad (a fixture on my mother’s T-day table, recipe below the fold), a dip for the appetizer spread and two cocktails (pomegranate-rosemary champagne punch and celery juleps for the hard liquor crowd.
So far, I’ve made my mom’s (via Gramma Great) Orange Fluffy Salad, recipe below the fold:
The Make-Ahead Mashed Potatoes, currently in the fridge in my largest Le Creuset buffet casserole:
And the syrups for the cocktails (celery syrup below, a beautiful vivid green):
Boo. Our neighborhood is experiencing a bizarre crime wave. For years, not much has gone down here with the exception of the occasional car break-in or plants being stolen from a front porch. First there was the YST B-and-E, then the police hanging out in my front yard and now this.
A famous convicted tax cheat in drag once declared, “…there are times when you help people and then there are times when, if you help people, you end up being killed. So you don’t help people.”
Words to live by, if you ask me.
I know the guy that got shot. He’s a decent and good man who, had he had time to consider the full ramifications of his actions, probably would have done the exact same thing. I wouldn’t have. Because y’all motherfuckers is crazy.
This is the most important thing that has ever happened. Not since the Knob Creek shortage…
Seriously, you guys.
Angostura bitters are in short supply.
For the love of god, what about the Manhattans?!
You Say Tomato, the little Longfellow eatery right near my house was broken into last night. A person or persons unknown broke the glass from the front door and rifled through the place, also tampering with the cash register (per neighborhood grapevine). Coincidentally, I’m sure, at 4:30 this morning The Husband and I were awoken from our slumber by the sounds of an argument and fight in front of our house. We dont’ have a front yard to speak of, so when something’s going down outside it sounds like its happening on our front porch. Now all of this is per my Gladys Kravitz-y husband as I was to lazy to lift my head from the pillow, but he went from window to window trying to get the scoop (exactly what he yells at the dogs for when they hear another dog outside, btw). Apparently two folks were having a bit of a brawl which the po-po (you guys rock) broke up about 60 seconds after we heard it. Two cop cars and four officers pulled up and started slapping on the cuffs. I heard one of the arrestees tell an officer the other dude was lucky he didn’t shoot him. I count myself lucky as well as I wasn’t really relishing the thought of leaping out bed to throw myself protectively over three greyhounds and one Elderly Cat. I guess one guy went downtown and the other one went to the hospital, as an am-buh-lanz and fire truck arrived shortly thereafter.
I don’t know if these two had anything to do with the break-in at YST, but I do have a bit of advice: if you find yourself getting into an argument and donnybrook on a public sidewalk in a residential neighborhood at 4:30 ack emma on a Monday morning, perhaps it’s time to sit down and reassess your life, because duh, you’re doing it wrong.
Bonnie Hunt’s portrayal of Kim Zolciak is spot-on and funny as shit.
Thanks Jaybird via Twitter.