Advil Calendar 2011 BONUS JUDAISM EDITION: Eight Nights, Eight Little Shnepsls

I am an atheist - a from-the-ground-up atheist, not a "I was raised Catholic and those guys are jerks, man!" atheist, although those people are no less atheists. It's just that their mental background noise includes a lot of Christian information. You can not believe in something and still be stuck with it, culturally. I mean, we kind of all are, here in the U.S., but I mean... Hoo boy. Why don't I stop. I think I just pissed off half of everyone I know.

I'm just trying to say that although I may seem to be not at all qualified to do a cocktail calendar for the eight nights of Hanukkah, the fact is, I'm barely qualified to do a Christmas one either. Maybe I should aim to be truly profoundly offensive and do a cocktail calendar for Ramadan! Think I could earn myself a fatwa?

Christ in the Eucharist by Vicente Juan Masip, 16th c.
He looks like he knows I'm not buying it.
He also looks like Chris in Marketing. Weird.

Maybe if I'd been raised in a religious sect with some actual culture, I might have taken an interest. My mother is Presbyterian, and dragged me to her church for a while when I was a kid, but Presbyterian practice is rather polite - it barely even registered as I sat in the choir loft reading a novel I'd smuggled in under the robe. I got through all the Conan books that way.

(I mean, symbolic Eucharist, please. If you're not going to go for full-on it's-a-miracle-because-I-said-so transubstantiation, why bother?)

In the interest of covering all the spiritual bases, I have done a fair amount of reading about various religions. I thought that maybe I would read something in the Koran that would inspire a belief in the unseen. Possibly the Bhagavad Gita would ring true to me.

But nope. I never found myself likely to suspend my disbelief, so as it turns out, I am a tourist in all of Jerusalem's precincts.

Because in all that reading what I learned is that I like most religions. I love the iconography and symbolism, the way that abstract concepts are communicated through story and reflected in ritual. Like I said, tourist.

I love the every-day-is-Halloween quality of Hinduism, for example. Holi, when people throw colored powder at each other, has got to be one of the most inventive ways to worship I've ever heard. And lighting little lanterns and floating them out on the water at Diwali? Adorable and contemplative at the same time!

The website of the Tulleeho Bartending Academy, Bangalore is one of my new favorite cocktail sites, for Holi cocktails like Boozy Woozy Thandai and Alcoholic Gola Sherbet.

I am sort of charmed by Catholicism in all its gory splendor - virgins! martyrs! Latin! lighting shit on fire! My husband's family had an Advent wreath with real candles which totally caught the dining room on fire one year. Plus I have always been delightedly appalled at the presumptive prurience of a religious leadership that expects its adherents to do what it says even unto where they put their dicks and how. Although I guess most religions have restrictions on dick usage.

Islam, well... the call to prayer is one of my favorite sounds in the world, I can say that at least. Whether the muezzin is flat or hoarse, croaky or nasal, when you hear his voice floating out above the city you know you're not in Kansas anymore. Beyond that - a religion that bans alcohol is sadly out of place on Your Neighborhood Librarian, at least this time of year.




But oh how I love Judaism. The food, of course. The traditions of hospitality and gratitude. The seemingly inexplicable tribal behavior - there were neighborhoods in Brooklyn in which every family drove the same model of car, every kid wore the same style of glasses, and all the moms wore tam o'shanters. Klezmer. Hebrew, which looks marvelous and sounds better, and not only uses a different script, it's backwards! And Yiddish. Love Yiddish.

I slipped a Hanukkah cocktail into last year's Advil Calendar - the Gelt Martini (Goldschlager and potato vodka) - but this year I wanted to find a whole suite of Hanukkah cocktails, one for every night.

But guess what.

Despite there being no Judaic prohibition on alcohol - in fact, taking a glass (or four) of wine is part of many observations and rituals - Jewish cocktails are as thin on the ground as Hasidim at a clambake. I have spent more time on these eight nights of the calendar than on all 24 of Advent (this year and last, I'll bet - last year was pretty thrown-together) combined.

I mean, given the absurd number of drinks associated with the Christian holiday, including cocktails incorporating flavors associated with Christmas - gingerbread martinis and candy cane coolers - as well as excruciatingly twee explicitly Christmas crap like The Drunken Elf and the Santa's Sleigh, the White Christmas and the Silent Night, one might expect at least a few Hanukkah cocktails. A Tipsy Dreidel, for instance. A Menoratini.

Come with me on my journey...

DECEMBER 20th, THE FIRST NIGHT OF HANUKKAH - JEWS DRINK FREE

Well actually, those things kind of exist. The Menorah Martini is a vodka martini with a splash of blue curacao. It's blue, get it? "Lame," I thought to myself. "Maybe if it glowed in the dark."

Which led to a brainstorm. Hanukkah is the Festival of Lights, right? When one night's worth of oil miraculously fed the temple lamps for eight nights? So the answer is...

FLAMING. SHOTS.

Haaa ha ha ha ha ha haaaa! YES. We are going to light shit on fire after all.

Ok here are the tips:

• You're going to make a shot of something but only fill the shotglass 3/4 full. You'll need to float a puddle of a very high proof liquor (like Bacardi 151) on top, something that will light on fire readily. You can use a booze of a normal proof, but have it on hand at room temperature or even slightly warmed.
• Do not fill the shotglass all the way up unless you don't mind the table catching on fire when you blow the shot out.
• Neither must you underfill the shotglass, lest the glass crack.
• You may use a snifter, but roll the liquor around the interior before you light it.
• BLOW THE THING OUT BEFORE YOU DRINK IT. You are not the God of Fire. You search "flaming shots" online and you'll get far more videos of drunken daredevils lighting their faces on fire than you do drink recipes.

If you want to try that thing you saw at the engineering frat when you were in college, when they inverted the pint glass over the burning shot and then carefully maneuvered the fume-filled glass over to a buxom Alpha Phi and encouraged her to huff it... well it's called The Backdraft. The brain damage is not my fault, and the instructions are here.

And if you want to try the fancy shit with the sprinkle of cinnamon (or black pepper) that will spark in the flame, go right ahead. Apparently that is nicest with Sambuca. But DON'T do THIS:




Although if you do, send me the video.

The Flaming Doctor Pepper
6 ounces Beer
1 ounce Amaretto
1 dash 151 Proof Rum

Pour about 2/3 of a can of beer into a glass. Fill a shot glass almost full with Amaretto and use the back of a spoon to layer the Bacardi 151on top of the glass. Ignite and quickly drop the shot glass in the beer glass. Drink quickly.

Inferno
1 part Absolut Peppar
1 part Everclear, 190 proof
6 drops Tabasco sauce
1 pinch Salt
How to MIX it
Put the tabasco sauce in the bottom of a shot glass, pour equal parts Absolut Peppar and Everclear then add salt. Set on fire and serve.

Bonfire
1/2 oz Grenadine
1/2 oz Amaretto
1/2 oz 151 proof rum
How to Mix it
Layer Grenadine first, Amaretto next, and 151 on top. Light the 151 and let it warm for about 3 seconds. 

12/21, THE SECOND NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: FLAMING SHOTS TURN OUT TO BE A BAD IDEA

Unless you're partial to leaving scorchmarks on the Formica or trimming your nose hairs the hard way, you have known for a long time that flaming shots are for bachelor parties and ... well pretty much just for bachelor parties. Maybe comic cons.

So let's keep looking. Next I turned to my bibles: the Official Mixer's Manual and Esquire's Handbook for Hosts. The Mixer's Manual had some possibilities: The Volga Boatman (equal parts vodka, cherry brandy and OJ) sounded ok, and the Mah Jongg (gin, rum and Cointreau) had promise (it's strong, though - those mahjongg ladies are not fucking around). But ehhh. And while the Esquire book mentions women all the time (we are fussy, myopic and clingy, except in the cartoons, where we are slutty and clueless) there is not word one about Jews.

Esquire cartoon women come to life:
Slutty Jewish Girls, photo by Flickr user Kosher Howey

Then I asked my friends. I asked a bunch of friends, but I had my hopes pinned upon Marjorie Ingall, who reviews children's books for The New York motherfuckin Times and who writes for Tablet, among other things... and Laurel Snyder, author of this year's Bigger Than a Breadbox and the Edward Eager-inspired Any Which Wall, among others. Laurel always has her antenna up about Jewish characters and themes in children's literature, and last year wrote a picture book called Baxter, the Pig who wanted to be Kosher.


Which is funny cause I'm totally writing Eat Me, The Shrimp Cocktail That Lived Forever Among the Jews.

And they didn't disappoint. Marjorie reminded me of a Tablet article she wrote about a cocktail Seder (the six Sipping Seder cocktails are wonderful) which includes a recipe by Zachary Sharaga of Louis 649 called the Mah Nishtanah (the four questions), a Negroni made with Cynar, its bitter taste evoking the bitter herbs of Passover. This is totally just what I was looking for, but for Hanukkah.

So here's what I heard back from my best Jews:

Laurel: I have heard of people making vodka martinis with a little manishevitz mixed in for flavor. I myself do not like sweet drinks, but I know people who do this.
Marjorie: i ordered a maneschevitini at a lower east side bar a few years ago and it was the most heinous thing i have ever put in my mouth. (write your own joke.) the thing is maneschevitz and slivovitz (the only two jewy starting points i can think of besides random impossible to find israeli liqueurs) are both gross!
Laurel: How about you just take a slug of scotch from a bottle in your desk drawer and call it "Zaide's Ghost."

Nobody who answered my question had anything nice to say about Kosher for Passover wine. I even found a cartoon in which the statements accompanying the four cups of wine included the addendum, "I will buy a decent Cabernet next year instead of this syrupy stuff." So on the second night of Hanukkah, we are going to go with...

Zaide's Ghost, by Laurel Snyder:

Scotch
Open bottle of scotch, raise to lips, drink. L'chaim!

Or with the Jell-O Shot recipe from the Manischewitz website (I AM NOT KIDDING):

2 cups berries (raspberry or strawberry), thaw if frozen
½ cup Manischewitz Blackberry Wine
½ cup unsweetened apple juice
1 envelop Knox gelatin
½ cup sugar
1 cup milk
2 egg whites, beaten until stiff
Purée berries in blender or put through a sieve to make fruit pulp. In mixing bowl, combine berries, Manischewitz Blackberry Wine, and apple juice. Sprinkle gelatin on top and stir until dissolved. Add sugar. Blend well. Refrigerate until jellied (about 4-6 hours).
Add milk and blend thoroughly. Fold in egg whites. Pour into 2 cake or pie pans and freeze mixture at least 6 hours.
30 minutes before serving, remove from freezer. Serve in dessert glasses.
Serves: 6.

22 DECEMBER, THE THIRD NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: HAVE A DRINK WITH DONNY "THE BEAR JEW" DONOWITZ

Eli Roth and Brad Pitt in Inglourious Basterds

Marjorie also pointed me to the Guns and Moses, a drink invented by bartender Kate Grutman for a bartending competition in L.A.

1-1/2 oz Karlsson’s Gold Vodka
3/4 oz lime juice
3/4 Maraska Maraschino
1 oz Cherry Manischewitz
Scant 1/2 tsp. rose water
Garnish with rose petal.

Maraschino, Maneschevitz, lime and vodka? I'm with Marjorie, it sounds awful. Very Jewish, but awful. We are nearly halfway through the Festival of Lights and I am still looking.

Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino's WWII movie, was kind of a wreck despite the presence of some fine (and fine looking) actors. Mostly it just made me want to watch The Dirty Dozen again. But it did give us Eli Roth as Donny Donowitz, the most prominent Jewish action hero we've seen in a while.

Lt. Aldo Raine: Actually, Werner, we're all tickled to hear you say that. Frankly, watchin' Donny beat Nazis to death is is the closest we ever get to goin' to the movies. 

FOURTH NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: IF YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY YOU'VE GOT TO BE REGULAR*


Continuing my own research, I found a very nice rundown of Yiddish terms related to drinking by Michael Wex, the author of Just Say Nu: Yiddish for Every Occasion, Born to Kvetch and The Adventures of Micah Mushmelon, Boy Talmudist (which I kind of have to get my hands on). He offers these observations and one cocktail recipe:

"The single most Jewish liqueur ever known — at least back in my youth, when it was all the rage with the ladies who bar mitzvah — is Cherry Heering, a brandy-based cherry liqueur with a name that inspires confidence at any event at which Yiddish might conceivably be or have been spoken. Real cocktails, though, have never been developed. There is but one: 

Alter Kaker (invented by Paul Lewis of the Joffrey Ballet)
1.5 oz. Old Grand-Dad
5 oz. Prune Juice
Pour into highball glass over ice cubes."

"Alter kaker" means "old fart" in Yiddish. I kind of love that Michael Wex didn't feel the need to translate that phrase. And I love that he appears to be personally acquainted with ballet dancers.

Our friend Sinclair reports that her grandfather, truly an alter kaker by the sound of him, was mighty fond of a 50:50 mixture of Clamato and orange juice, with vodka added. Sinclair's husband visibly dry-heaved when Sinclair mentioned this concoction - apparently the old guy got Alex to try it once. Once.

*I worked with approximately a jillion immigrants from all over the former Soviet Union when I worked for a software company in New York. We called them all "Russians" which they thought was pretty amusing. "Not only am I not a Russian," my friend Vadim would rumble, his voice deep, dark, implacable, and full of boulders - I always thought the 1919 Molasses Flood must have made a sound like Vadim reading compiler errors aloud - "but in Ukraine, I'm not even a Ukrainian - I'm a Jew!" We non-immigrants were often treated to aphorisms like the one above, usually having to do with death, but sometimes on the subject of alcohol, gambling, or bodily functions. Man, I miss those guys.

FIFTH NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER

And then Marjorie found a new restaurant in Tribeca named after an old-time Catskills family resort, Kutsher's. Their drinks menu is something that I would take to bed and recite to myself as a beautiful bedtime story. It's very summery, though, befitting a restaurant named for a vacation spot, and I don't really see what's Jewish about the cocktails except some of the names. But I'll take it!

Hmm.

I like the look of the Route 17, named after the state road that shoots the motorist through Catskills resort country. I'm sure visitors to Kutsher's spent a whole lot of time on that road, and I think that's where my husband and I were one night on our way to a camping weekend on our friends' property in Delhi.

We had gotten a late start and realized that by the time we got to Chris and Jenny's it would be long past dark and camping would be a mess, so we decided to stop for the night. We saw a sign for an old-fashioned looking bungalow-style hotel thingie and pulled into the driveway. Immediately, curious faces appeared in our headlights - silent, curious faces in extremely Orthodox garb. It was a little unnerving. Actually, it was like Children of the Corn. Children of the Kasha, say.

This resort - perhaps more accurately called a compound - may have been The Derfl ("the name speaks for itself!") (it means "small village" in Yiddish) or maybe Oppenheimer's Regis Hotel ("free wifi, fully-stocked bais medrash"), but the manager made it clear that there was no room at the inn, so to speak. Not for us.

ANYway, the Route 17 has these ingredients:

tequila
orange liqueur
lemon syrup
grapefruit bitters
absinthe rinse

Instructions weren't on the website, so I winged it:
Rinse the glass with the absinthe. Then I tried 2 parts tequila and 1 part Cointreau, a thimblefull of simple syrup and a pretty heavy dash of grapefruit bitters, and a big lemon twist, which I ran around the rim of the glass before dropping in. 

I had no lemon syrup, although it would be easy to make. 2 cups water, 2 cups sugar, zest of one whole lemon. Heat these things, stirring, over medium high heat, until mixture boils. Strain into a jar, throwing out the cooked zest.

VERDICT: Next time I'll skip the absinthe rinse.

SIXTH NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: DREIDEL DREIDEL DREIDEL!

Listen, I am so relieved to find an actual Hanukkah cocktail, and so exhausted by my search, here it is:

The Dreidel is much more like it:
2 ounces plum brandy
2 ounces apple juice
1/2 ounce lemon juice
1/2 ounce cherry flavored liqueur
1/2 ounce egg whites
1 dash Angostura bitters
Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full of ice and add all of the ingredients.
Shake very hard for 30 seconds and strain into a small wineglass.

Plum, apple, cherry - sweet but not sickly. Nice. And the egg whites are a kosher staple. Remember, when you're working with egg whites, the "shake very hard" part is key. Shake until your arm feels like it's going to come off. Shake some more. The credit for this drink goes to Nopa Bar in San Francisco.

SEVENTH NIGHT OF HANUKKAH: Presenting the House Cocktail at the Governor William J. Le Petomane Memorial Gambling Casino for the Insane*

Drank this stuff by the pint
when I was pregnant.

My friend Tracy came home from a trip to Kansas City Missouri with news of Der Schmutzige (The Dirty One), something they invented at an Austrian joint called Grünauer. All Tracy or I could get was the ingredient list - black pepper / mustard infused vodka, beet brine, pickle water and kraut juice - but I am willing to experiment until I figure out the proportions!

WIRED magazine wrote a good set of instructions for how to infuse vodka - it's one of those projects that combines the fixy aspects of craft with the sensory pleasures of cooking. (That means boys or girls could do it - oh now I'm being catty, ignore me.) Plus it's hard to fuck up.

I combined about 3 tablespoons each of multicolor peppercorns and mustard seeds (I heated the mustard seeds in a frying pan for a couple minutes first) and then added about two cups of vodka. I set this up on December 6.

That's some schmutzy damn vodka wouldn't you say?

We drank it on December 11th or so. Boy, that vodka got STRONG. I may have overdid it on the peppercorns.

I mixed:

one part infused vodka
1 part kraut juice (siphoned off a bag of kraut - they don't have Frank's down here)
1 part okra pickle brine
1/2 part beet pickle brine (I just happened to have pickled some beets this summer)

I shook these hard with ice and poured into chilled martini glasses. I took a sip. Bob took a sip. "Do you want me to take that back?" I asked him. "Please," he said.
I took them back to the kitchen and added more okra pickle brine, until the thing was possibly as much as half brine.

Then I drank them both, because Bob wasn't going to touch that shit again.

*Basically this entire 8-night post has been inspired by a long stretch of too many Mel Brooks movies. Can you have too many Mel Brooks movies, you ask? I answer with three words: Men in Tights.

12/27/2011 WEIRD DRINK WEDNESDAY HOME STRETCH EDITION

Cochineal bugs feeding on a cactus

And the last night of Hanukkah happens upon Weird Drink Wednesday. Before Marjorie and Laurel came to my rescue with their Hebetastic drink advice, I had contemplated inventing something myself in a desperate last-ditch response to the dearth of Judaic tipples.

("Judaic tipples." That sounds funny. Judaic tipples are all you get to see when you go to a striptease bar on Route 17.)

I thought of The Fuzzy Pupik, which is just a Fuzzy Navel with a kosher salt rim. Or the Parveh Manhattan - made with rye whiskey, of course. Watch out for that maraschino cherry, though - as I learned from Zushe Yosef Blech in his book Kosher Food Production (available in Google Books), some are colored with carmine, which is made from ground-up cochineal insects and therefore not kosher. Wow. A whole new reason to never eat a maraschino cherry EVER.

But this discussion wanders into Weird Drink Wednesday territory because of a drink name my husband came up with: The Klutzy Mohel.

You know what a mohel is, right? The guy who performs the bris. The circumciser. Laurel had a run-in with a real putz of a mohel when her first son was born, and I swear if I ever meet that schmuck I'm going to punch him right in the pupik.

So The Klutzy Mohel. I put my inventing hat on.

I started out thinking in terms of a clear or amber cocktail, with a drizzle of Grenadine and an evocative garnish, kind of like the Bloody Brain shot we used to do in college (right). For the garnish, I thought a wide twist of lemon peel while my husband assumed we'd use a smashed cherry. Sinclair thought something suitably disgusting could be concocted out of a button mushroom. Depends how klutzy this mohel really is, I guess.

I thought of red drinks like the cherry lime rickey. I took a side road into Kümmel territory when I happened upon the Tovarisch (vodka, Kümmel, lime) in the Mixer's Manual. There's a cocktail blogger in New Zealand who has done a lot of work with Kümmel and who kind of talked me out of it. His blog is called Bunnyhugs (don't ask) and I think he invented the clear-ish drink I want to use:

Unnamed Bunnyhugs Creation:

1 ½ oz pisco
¾ oz lemon juice
¾ oz St. Germain
½ tsp grenadine
1 tsp maraschino (the liqueur, not the juice from the potentially treyf embalmed cherries)

We haven't hit pisco yet this Advent/Hanukkah season, and it's too good to skip. You add my boyfriend St. Germain to the mix and that will make me willing to take a chance on a little bit of maraschino. We even own a bottle of Luxardo - Bob likes to put it in things (usually to the detriment of those things) because he thinks the straw-wrapped bottle is festive.

To turn Seamus's delicious pisco drink into The Klutzy Mohel:

Mix pisco, lemon juice, St. Germain and maraschino in a shaker with ice. Shakey shake. Come on Pilgrim, you know he loves you. Pour into a chilled martini glass.
Drop in - and this is my moment of genius - a fat curl of apple you have gouged out with a melon baller.
Then drizzle the Grenadine in slowly and carefully so that it does that thready bloody thing.

Et voilà! 

TOMORROW: Tomorrow? Seriously? I did eight days in one post and I'm still at it tomorrow? Well of course I am! Tomorrow is the solstice, and I don't think I've pissed off the pagans yet! Tomorrow we have solstice cocktails full of pomegranate juice and champagne and all kinds of hippie crap. It's the shortest day of the year, which means it's the longest night. SKOAL, brother.

The Advil Calendar 2011 DECEMBER 19: Maple Bourbon Bacon Sexpot Edition - Bring on the pornspam

OH HELL OH HELL OH HELL

You had this awesome idea.

You were driving home from work one Friday earlier this month with the weekend stretching ahead of you and the month stretching ahead of that. You stopped at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of Goslings rum (see: December 12) and had to bring it home in a plastic bag because you were in your husband's car and he doesn't keep re-usable grocery bags in it. He keeps other things in it, of course: old issues of The Urbanite; a box of business cards from two jobs ago; 5 coffee mugs that belong in your kitchen; 3 stanky gym towels draped across the seat; two broken cell phone chargers...

And now one more plastic bag.

One more bag for the rustly ball of crinkled bags that lives in the basement stairwell and quietly mocks you every time you go downstairs to bring up a can of black beans. "ONE MORE BAG," it whispers, chuckling. "You might as well be Michael Steele."

But that's when you had your idea. You have that friend, right, the one who is resourceful and crafty but not annoying about it? Doesn't she swear by those tote bags she crochets out of plastic grocery bags? She could teach you how to make those and you could give them to people for holiday gifts! and plus! and then! you'd have chopped that rustly ball of crinkled bags to bits!

None of those bags would end up choking a sea turtle or blowing across a Sahara dune, and never again would you doubt your sanity imagining that they were laughing at you while you laundered cloth napkins instead of buying paper ones!
 
It was beautiful. Visions of a handmade, recycled Christmas came and went before your eyes like a tacky special effects montage. The jar of broken crayons melted down and turned into new crayons. Placemats woven out of outdated road maps. Candles for the teachers! Plastic bags for plastic bags made out of old plastic bags!

And now it's December 23rd and not only have you not finished making a single crocheted plastic tote bag (and actually it turns out? that even though you thought you could do crochet because everybody says crochet is easier than knitting and you are a sucky sucky knitter? you are a sucky sucky crocheter too); but the placemats got only as far as a blizzard of uneven paper strips that are now in a drifting Snuffleupagus pile on the dining room table; and the candlemaking project never progressed past the part where you spent $83 on molds and wicking and ate way too many Pringles.

FUUUUUCK.

And you haven't come up with anything else for the people you were going to give crafts to.

So you know what time it is, don't you? Time to bake. BAKE. BAAAKE. (That's my Steve Carell as Maxwell Smart, by the way).

Oh now shut up with your whining. By "bake" I mean make...


MAPLE BOURBON BACON JAM

And all of a sudden FUUUUUCK turns into FUCK. YEAH.

This recipe is from a Colorado food blog called Creative Culinary. I'm going to tell you right now: double all the quantities in this recipe because it makes twelve ounces of bacon spread and I know you, chica - you could eat twelve ounces of bacon spread pretty much all by yourself in one of those fits of WHY THE HELL NOT that you seem to have this time of year.

Bacon Jam by Creative Culinary:

Prep Time: 45 minutes
Cook Time: 2 hours

1 pound good quality thick cut bacon; cut into 1 inch slices
1 large onion, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons brown sugar
5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp cumin
2 teaspoons Ancho chile powder
1 cup espresso
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar (I say cider vinegar)
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup bourbon
Kosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper

In a large, heavy skillet cook the bacon over medium high heat until it’s lightly browned and just starting to crisp. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

Add the onion and garlic and cook over medium heat until soft and translucent and starting to caramelize; 20-25 minutes. Add the spices the last 5 minutes; mix thoroughly.

While the onion cooks, chop the bacon into smaller pieces; approximately 1/2″ square.

Return the bacon to the pan and add the brown sugar, coffee, balsamic vinegar, maple syrup and bourbon. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer.

Simmer over low heat stirring occasionally for approximately 2 hours, until the mixture is a thick, jam-like consistency and deep rich brown color.

Let cool for 20 minutes; check and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.

Transfer to a food processor. Pulse about 20 times to get the desired consistency. Do not process until completely smooth; it should remain a bit chunky.

Spoon into jars or storage containers and refrigerate overnight.

When I made this - and did I make this? you bet your ass I made this. Made a double batch, halved the brown sugar, doubled the chili powder, used rye instead of bourbon, and added a teaspoon of ground ginger. Took me less than three hours. Then I spread it on the entire Dillon Panthers football team and had myself A NIGHT. I sang a little song:

Also not specified in the
recipe: you may want to
skim off about a cup of fat.
What you do with it then
is your own affair.

Bacon bacon bacon jam!
Bacon jam, jam I am!
Keep your cookies keep your SPAM,
I am making bacon jam!

You, I mean, you, being slightly less depraved than I am, could put it in sweet little 4-ounce Ball jars and tie a ribbon around them and look at that! You've got your teacher gifts, your babysitter gift, the gift for your pal who taught you how to crochet even though you SUCK AT IT.

My friend Paula is thinking of making Rugelach with this stuff, and when I passed that intel on to my boys, their eyes went wide. "I need to eat that cookie," said the one. "She's going to get rich," said the other.

Either way, you'll end up with a lovely vat of indescribably sweet-savory goo. Spread it on bread, put it on sandwiches, make your bagel make its O-face. Be a hero. Who looks out for you like I do?

That is why we both deserve to collapse onto the couch with a bag of Cheetos and a bourbon. You got it out for the bacon jam anyway, right?

Here's the simplest thing to do with the bourbon. Or the rye, if you're me.

2 parts Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur
1 part bourbon
Swirl around a little. Sip straight up.

Here's the even simpler thing to do with your bourbon.

Drank it. Straight up. Stir it with a nice piece of bacon. Eat the bacon.

 
NEXT UP: You know the saying, "Jews don't drink?" Well it ain't true. Or, it won't be true once word of my EIGHT NIGHTS OF DRINKMAKKUH calendar hits the streets. I've got the dirtiest of dirty martinis, drinks inspired by the hot vengeful Jews of Inglourious Basterds, and excuse me did someone ask for old man drinks? Old man, you better hang on to your walker - I got shit that will iron your tallit.

The Advil Calendar 2011 December 17: HERE IT IS THE EGGNOG

S-A-TUR-DAY! NIGHT! HAVE THE IN-LAWS OVER, 'CAUSE THIS IS TOO MUCH WORK TO WASTE ON YOUR FRIENDS

Get out every whisk, eggbeater, stand mixer, hand mixer, and great big bowl that you own, because it's time to ruin your kitchen making homemade eggnog! Woo hoo!

Supermarket eggnog. NOT TONIGHT, BITCH.

That's right. And you're not going to all this trouble just to suck down a punchbowl full of dairy and raw eggs with the neighbors, who have the same exhausting working parent lives as you do and who would therefore secretly think you were unbearably precious for making eggnog from scratch when the stuff from the supermarket is... well it's... listen, it's fine.

No, this is the night to invite the boss, the potential boss, the editor of the local newspaper (ha! as if anyone pays for freelance anymore!), Sister Mary Vice Principal, or the rich auntie who might be able to chip in for Junior's tuition one day.

Last year I posted our neighbor Thelma's eggnog recipe, which, as it turned out, was also the recipe from The Joy of Cooking. This year, I have combed through my most ancient volumes to bring you three variations, each guaranteed to put you in a sugar coma. I don't drink any of them myself, being, as my son calls it, "Lacked Toast Intolerant," but every now and then I can be persuaded to get the punchbowl down from the cabinet over the fridge and whip some shit up. Why? Because if I make the eggnog, all y'all dairylappers will be so impressed that you won't ask me to do anything else for a good 24 hours.

Don't let the sweet smile fool you. Avalynne Tawes is about to do unspeakable things to those turtles. 

The Governor's Lady would never do this: it's cheating.
She might serve those ham salad cones though.

Mrs. J. Millard Tawes (First Lady of Maryland, 1959 to 1967) wrote a cookbook once. She called it My Favorite Maryland Recipes, and her byline included not only her name, but, in parentheses after it, "The Governor's Lady." As if maybe "First Lady" was too assertive, and "Governor's Wife" too unassuming? Beats me. Maybe I'll start billing myself as "The Education Consultant's Lady."

There's an annual clambake in Crisfield in the Tawes's honor, and if it weren't in July, I'm sure they would serve Mrs. Tawes's eggnog:

8 eggs, separated
10 heaping tablespoons sugar
2 quarts milk
1/3 of a fifth each of blended whiskey, Puerto Rican rum, brandy
1 pint whipping cream
pinch salt
nutmeg
Beat egg yolks until very light. Add sugar and beat again. Add milk slowly. Add spirits very slowly, stirring constantly. Fold in whipped cream. Beat egg whites with salt and fold in. Sprinkle with nutmeg. Chill.

Put your arm on ice.





River Road Recipes is something I picked up down South. A publication of the Junior League of Baton Rouge, it was first copyright in 1959, and I was given a copy in 1989. On a business trip to the Big Red Stick, I mentioned to my client's wife, who was an actual member of the Junior League, that while I was in her fair city I was looking forward to eating red beans and rice. WRONG. She got this look on her face like she'd just eaten a mothball. It was as if I'd met the mayor of Bangkok and I'd said, "So mayor, I guess you go to a lot of donkey shows." Yup, there's no snob like a Southern snob.

Naturally, the very next day her husband brought in a copy of this book, gift wrapped and with a lovely, acidly polite note from the wife. In it I found recipes for cakes with seven layers and two kinds of frosting, Beef Wellington, composed salads, and the like. NOT red beans and rice. I wish I could thank the permafrosted old biddy, though - I love this book. One recipe in the section "How Men Cook" starts out "This is for a dug out pit, preferably brick lined to retain heat. Start fire about 9PM the night before." Not exactly "Stand facing the stove," right?

Here's a make-ahead eggnog from River Road Recipes:

You do have a silver nutmeg shaker right?

Make one week before serving:
4 eggs, separated
3/4 pint brandy
6 tablespoons rum
1 quart cream
3/4 cup granulated sugar
nutmeg
Beat egg yolks. Add brandy and rum gradually (1 tablespoon at a time), while beating constantly. Add 1 pint of unwhipped cream and the well-beaten egg whites. Continue beating and add sugar and another pint of unwhipped cream. Sprinkle with nutmeg to taste. Bottle and store in outside temperature (the window ledge is a good place). Do not refrigerate. Shake in bottle before serving. Serves 10-12.

Now that is just weird. In Baton Rouge, they're storing uncooked eggs and dairy... outside? Ok...




Charleston Receipts, originally published in 1950, is another treasure I accumulated on a trip down south. Amid recipes for scuppernong wine and some stuff called ratafia that is made from peach kernels and so I suppose must taste like Laetrile, there are three versions of eggnog. I'm copying the Cotton Hall Plantation Eggnog, because it makes 90 to 100 servings, and one of these days you just might need to get that many people hammered.

5 dozen eggs
4 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 quarts whipping cream
1 pint coffee cream
1 1/2 quarts rye whiskey
1 pint rum
1/2 teaspoon salt
Beat egg yolks with sugar; add liquor, then whites of eggs beaten very stiff, and salt. Whip cream and add last.

You know who else likes eggnog? That Snoopy Dog fellow, apparently.
What's he doing with that candy cane? He's some kind of flute player?
Maybe he can tell us where to find a nice donkey show.

The Advil Calendar, DAY 16: YOU'RE A MEAN DRUNK, MR GRINCH

(There was also a cat named Grundoon)

DECEMBER 16
Ok when I was a kid I had this father who was unremittingly, automatically iconoclastic. If there was a grain, he would go against it. If you provided a beat, he would march to something else. When he was in the Air Force, he got around the base via pogo stick. He conflated J.R.R. Tolkein and Herbert Hoover, offering "A Balrog in every woodpile!" Named one cat Eleanor, after Mrs. Roosevelt, because he claimed she was an unattractive cat, and another Virgil, after the poet, for no reason at all. He was incapable of doing something so predictable as reading us a picture book, so he would start with the copyright information in the front and feign outrage when we complained: "You asked me to read the book, I'm reading the book!" I still have that father, but I mostly ignore him nowadays and mostly he only trots that malarkey out for my kids.

The distelfink is the bird one

Which is kind of good, because otherwise they might not believe me when I complain about my youth.

To wit:

Some of my dad's most enduring iconospasms have to do with Christmas. Every year, he insisted that he was going to stuff barbed wire up the chimney so that our house would not be invaded by "that fat housebreaker" on Christmas Eve. He sang "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Ginklefink," I think inspired by the Pennsylvania Dutch distelfink, a hex sign you'll see on barns all through Lancaster County, where we frequently took long, punishingly embarrassing weekend bike rides with the Baltimore Bicycle Club. We rode ten-speed tandems and wore long knit bike shorts - this was the late 70's, when even basketball players wore hotpants - and we were possibly the first family in North America to use protective headgear to ride a bike. They didn't make bicycle helmets small enough for my brother and I, so the two of us wore rock climbing helmets. And homemade rear view mirrors that fastened to our glasses.

Let me tell you something. When the Amish come out of their houses to point at you and murmur to each other behind their hands, you may be certain that you are dressed funny.

So, for Dad, our Friday Night Drink is...

The Grinch

2 ounces of Midori liqueur
1 ounce vodka
1/2 ounce of fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. of simple syrup
Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake well and strained into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a maraschino cherry.

Some people recommend a crushed peppermint stick rim, but that would make me (and my dad) barf.

I think he will be pleased, although he would never tell. He would also never drink this. Midori? No way. He's an amber liquid man (and by the way, not a mean drunk - that title was just too cute to pass up).

There is an alternate version of this drink, developed by one of those people who make gels and foams out of food and then expect people to eat them. It involves calcium lactate and sodium alginate and I have to admit, my science geek side (also inherited from my father) would love to try this. I'm not going to copy the recipe - if you think you might like to put on your lab coat and wield a pipette in the kitchen (not kidding about the pipette), you're gonna have to gas up the Nerdmobile and go there yourself.


Speaking of nerding out: tomorrow is Eggnog Saturday, and I have gone Extra Original Authentic with the research for this one. Take your Lactaid and clear the decks - it's gonna get thick and whipped around here.

The Advil Calendar, Week Three, Day One: This Time It's Seasonal

IT'S THE FIFTEENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS AND DID YOU EVER THINK YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE IT THIS FAR?

Artsy fartsy mug from ABC, only 75 bucks. Apiece.

No? Well you have. Welcome to the third Thursday of Advent, also known as Saint ABC Carpet and Home Day, because at this point you are just going to stop in there after work and GET SOMETHING for that bitch sister-in-law who now says she has "way too many" umbrellas so you had to take the one you bought for her back to the museum gift shop... because COME ON, there is literally something for everyone at ABC as long as you don't mind paying at least fifteen times more than it's worth.

(In other cities you're going to have to substitute Pier One. Suck it up, I live in Baltimore now and I've gotten used to it, you can too.) (On the bright side, much cheaper.).*

And after you have closed your eyes and paid waaaay too much for a throw pillow or some letterpress stationery, you are going around the corner to the Old Town and salvage your pride by ordering something dignified yet gutsy, and classy too. Thursday is New Yorkers' Night Out, after all. Stay for two.

Dolores del Rio and friends salute your shopping acumen

I'm going to suggest the aromatic, cultured Dolores Cocktail. The Dubonnet is light and a little sweet, and the rum and sherry are complex and rich.

2 parts aged rum (my beloved Flor de Cana is wonderful in this but any will do)
2 parts Dubonnet Rouge
1 part fino sherry
Stir vigorously with ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with a lemon twist.

Or if you're me, you'll maybe also want to try the Dubonnet Negroni, equal parts gin, Campari, and Dubonnet Blanc, garnished with a lemon twist. If you can find a guy in a fancy gaucho outfit to hang out with at the bar, you are WAY ahead.

A note about that fino sherry in the Dolores: what you'll find at the Old Town will no doubt be Tio Pepe, which is fine. But fino sherry is white and fresh, and if you buy your own bottle, it should be kept in the fridge with the vermouth and other wine-based spirits.


*I am kidding about Pier One. This year more than others, you will really help your fellow citizens by shopping as locally as you can. Here are some Baltimore alternatives to popular online or chain stores - try to find the same kind of analogues in your town:

Necklace made from vintage tin at Studio C

• Etsy - Studio C Jewelry and Gifts, 4337 Harford Road in Lauraville
• Urban Outfitters - Trixie's Palace, 1704 Thames Street in Fells Point
• Anthropologie - Myrtle Dove, 5006 Lawndale Avenue, Roland Park
• Design Within Reach - Home Anthology, 91 Mellor Avenue in Catonsville
• West Elm - In Watermelon Sugar, corner of Chestnut and 36th Street in Hampden
• Pottery Barn - Su Casa, 901 S Bond Street in Fells Point
• Starbucks - Zeke's Coffee, 4607 Harford Road in Lauraville
• LUSH or Bath and Body Shop - SoBotanical, 14 E West St in Federal Hill
• Thinkgeek - Shananigans, 5004 Lawndale Ave. in Roland Park
• Toys R Us - Mumbles and Squeaks, 8133 Main St. in Ellicott City
• Lillian Vernon - The Toy Chest, 1809 Reisterstown Road, Suite 150 in Pikesville
• Gymboree - Urban Baby Runway, 3608 Falls Road, Hampden
• Amazon or BN - Atomic Pop (Hampden), The Ivy (6080 Falls Road, Roland Park), Children's Book Store (Roland Park), Red Canoe (Lauraville)
• Ritz Camera - Service Photo, Hampden

TOMORROW: Fire up the DVD player and relax with the Whos down in Whoville and a drink inspired by the meanest of mean old men. (Hint: it's not the Grinch.)

The Advil Calendar, 2011: WEIRD DRINK WEDNESDAY HORROR EDITION

WEDNESDAY THE WHAT?TEENTH
Ok here's what happened. I lost count of days, or I never counted up to begin with, or something, and I wrote this whole day thinking that Wednesday was the 13th. So... we're just going to pretend that it is.

Humde dum.

OMG Weird Drink Wednesday falls on the 13th of the month???!?!! We're all gonna diiiie!!!

*cough*

It's ok, don't get up, I'll get you a beer. No no, it's no trouble.

Now that that's over with, we might as well embrace the mayhem, the bad luck, the lurking horror. We ought to just shake hands with the nightmares of the season, so that when they crash down on us through the suspended ceiling of our self-deluded holiday hopes we will at least be among friends: the mechanic on the phone explaining that what you thought was a slipped belt is in fact a blown transmission. The friendly neighbor asking "Has your chimney always leaned like that?" The first trimester progress report (what used to be called a report card). The work email that includes the phrase, "due to these economically straitened times..." Passive-aggressive stepmothers. Passive-passive husbands. And a holiday to-do list as long as Tim Riggins's... well, it's long.

Given all that, here's a cocktail inspired by Jason, the Friday the 13th serial killer of our youth. Bet you weren't expecting that - nobody every expects Jason, although after like seventeen movies in which he just keeps coming back, you'd think we'd all be expecting Jason whenever we like stepped into a fitting room at Nordstrom or parked in the garage or went swimming.

The Crystal Lake Surprise (something horrible is is floating in it!)

2 measures of white rum
1/4 measure of blue curaçao
1 measure of orange juice
1/2 measure of lime juice
1 packet of red Jell-O
Vodka (optional)

Make the Jell-O. Add vodka (if desired) and set it in the freezer.
Just before the Jell-O sets, sir it up with a hand whisk.
Let it set for at least 5 minutes.
Mix (shake) the rum, blue curaçao and juices with a cocktail shaker over ice.
Strain mixture into a chilled cocktail glass.
Spoon the surprise into the cocktail. It should now float ominously in the water like the body of little Jason Voorhees!

I copied this recipe hook line and sinker from a terrific post by a creative and strong-willed (and strong-livered) Halloween-obsessed blogger in the UK. I could not resist the combination of a floating Jell-O shot and a Friday the 13th reference - it's just like high school! Except I didn't drink in high school and I was afraid of horror movies.

It's entirely possible that this would be rather a nice drink without the floating viscera - the curaçao is going to make it a little sweet but I think with a dust of red pepper I would totally try this.

Next week: look for cocktails inspired by favorite movie characters, crotchsnickety family members, and finally - finally, Cheryl! - I'll post an eggnog recipe. Or three.

The Advil Calendar 2011, Tuesday December 13: Drink Locally, Act Foolishly

DATELINE: DECEMBER 13

It's Taco Tuesday at Clementine, a high-quality, low-key restaurant here in Northeast Baltimore, and that's all the reason I need to proclaim Tuesdays on our calendar of slightly sloshed jetfueled merriment Local Tuesday.

Clementine's chef/owner Winston Blick has a thing for making and growing stuff himself, so the main dining room at Clementine features a view into the cold room (it's the blue room under the star in the photo above) so that diners can gaze at his cured meats (not a euphemism) and giant jars of pickles (not a euphemism) and coils of homemade sausages (still not talking about anybody's penis) as they enjoy the restaurant's smoked bluefish cakes or duck nachos or bacon-wrapped meatloaf and DAMN my stomach just made the most appalling noise. Oh wait that was the cat.

(It must be noted: how disgusting is my cat if, asleep on the couch beside me, she is capable of making a noise that I could mistake for human peristalsis? Very disgusting, is the answer. Why couldn't she be more like the real Buzz Aldrin?)

So I'd say this is exactly the right day to go ultra-local with our cocktail. Even though Clementine invents amazing drinks that are well worth going out of your way for (I like the Tequila Fresca and the Asian Pear), most of them involve Winston's homemade bitters, syrups or infused liqueurs, the recipes for all of which are closely guarded secrets (probably not, but I've never asked) so you'll just have to make a reservation. Tell them the pink haired librarian sent ya! I always wanted to say that.

This spicy delicious tequila cocktail, however, comes from right across the street. Take it away, Chris:

Jalapeño Cucumber Margarita, by Christine

This recipe’s origin, as far as I can tell, is a bar called Lonesome Dove, in Fort Worth. I lifted the recipe from the interwebs.

For four drinks:

• 8 slices jalapeño 
• 8 slices cuke
• ¼ cup sugar
• 8 ounces orange-flavored liqueur or orange juice
• 10 ounces silver tequila
• juice of 2 limes
• ice
• salt (preferably kosher)

Use a mortar and pestle to mash up the jalapeño and cuke and sugar together. Put the mess into a cocktail shaker. Add tequila, orange, lime, ice, and shake. Pour into a salted-rim glass, and garnish with slices of the pepper (or cuke or lime, I suppose, but why not the pepper?).

NOTES:

The jalapeño. Seed or de-seed the slices, depending on how much heat you like. Personally, I think the drink needs some seeds.

The orange. What I like best in this drink is fresh-squeezed orange juice, which takes the cocktail to 11. But boxed OJ is fine, and if you use the liqueur, you might as well use a cheap triple sec, since it’s a pretty penny cheaper than Cointreau, and also cheaper than Grand Marnier, which, I believe, is cognac-based, and you can’t really taste the difference much. The cheap stuff is probably sweeter, so keep that in mind for your hangover.

The lime. For the love of god, use fresh lime juice. If you make it with the bottled stuff, you are not allowed to say you got the recipe from me.

This is why I party with my neighbors. Standards, dammit. One has to draw the line somewhere. Thank you Chris, and stay tuned tomorrow for Weird Drink Wednesday!

The Advil Calendar 2011: BAD MOMS SAY 'NO' TO XMAS MUSIC AT THE BAR (and yes to cranberry drinks)

12.12.11, or if you're feeling Continental, 12.12.11
It's Monday night, my girls' night, and here's a recipe from one of my favorite girls:

Cranberry Cobbler, by Jim Meehan of PDT, as featured on GOOP, Gwyneth Paltrow's online lifestyle dogma thing

Just kidding again. Although she seems to have a decent sense of humor and could therefore hang with us on Monday night, Gwyneth Paltrow persists in trying to make people believe she can sing, and she can't, and that is the worst.

1 orange wheel
1 lemon wedge
½ ounce Cranberry Simple Syrup (see recipe below)
2 ounces Beefeater Gin
¾ ounce Lustau East India Sherry
4 macerated cranberries (from Cranberry Simple Syrup)
mint sprig
Muddle the orange, lemon and syrup in the bottom of a shaker. Add the gin, sherry and a handful of ice. Shake and strain into a rocks glass filled with ice. Garnish with the cranberries and mint.
(Jim Meehan/Michael Madrusan, 2007)

Cranberry Simple Syrup
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
1 bag of fresh or frozen cranberries
3 ounces Beefeater Gin
Bring the sugar and water to a boil in a saucepan set over high heat. Add the cranberries and cook over medium heat until the cranberries start to split. Remove from the heat, stir in the gin and cool. This mixture can stay in the fridge for a couple of weeks. When you’re ready to use it, strain the syrup, reserving the cranberries for garnish.

Okay the whole bit about you have to make your own cranberry simple syrup - that is not as nose-in-the-air as it sounds. Making simple syrup is ridiculously easy and it keeps a long long time.The fact that you can use frozen cranberries, oh hell, that makes it a no-brainer, and this cocktail sounds really good.

People like Michelle Obama eat at Gramercy Tavern.

I found another cranberry cocktail in Mix Shake Stir, a book of cocktail recipes from the Danny Meyer restaurants in NYC. He has like ten, including Union Square Cafe, Shake Shack, and the Modern. As you might expect, the cocktails in the book are a little precious, a little hyper-artisanal, with ingredients like lavender honey and cardamom bitters, but weirdly, his bartenders apparently don't know from hot sauce, calling for Texas Pete in one recipe and Tabasco in at least one other. Tabasco. What is that, supposed to be ironic? Post-gourmet?

I mean, I can see not using Sriracha, the foodie go-to hot sauce also known as rooster sauce, in cocktails (except Bloody Marys) - sriracha is so good because it is made from ground fresh peppers with a minimum of liquid, so it has a thick consistency that would settle in a less-dense liquid - and not everybody can make their own, although I know plenty of restauranteurs who do (WINSTON) (and if you are making your own rhubarb syrup then for crap sake why aren't you making your own hot sauce?) but there are many great hot sauces out there that are thin like Tabasco but don't taste like spicy industrial vinegar. Louisiana The Perfect is the one that comes to mind. Even Crystal.

ANYWAY, I never think there are enough winter rum drinks, so I like the sound of this:

Winter Mojito

2 tsp Drunken Cranberries (recipe follows) plus 2 tsp of their liquid
2 lime wedges
8 sprigs fresh mint
2 1/2 oz dark rum (they like Gosling's and I'm fine with that)
soda water to taste
Muddle 1 tsp of the drunken cranberries and the 2 tsp of liquid, the lime wedges, and the mint sprigs in a cocktail shaker. Add the rum and some crushed ice and shake that thing. Strain into a chilled rocks glass and top with soda water. Garnish with more mint and the rest of the cranberries.

Drunken Cranberries

1 1/2 cups simple syrup
2 cinnamon sticks
zest from one large orange
1 cup cranberries
1 1/2 cups white rum
In a large saucepan, combine the simple syrup, cinnamon sticks, and the orange zest. Bring just to a boil over medium high heat and add the cranberries. Cook until the cranberries just begin to pop and their skins begin to split, about a minute.
Remove from the heat and lest cool slightly, then strain the liquid into a large glass jar. Add the cranberries to the jar, discarding the cinnamon and orange zest, then add the rum.
Let cool, then cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to 3 weeks.

Dude, I would use that in all kinds of stuff. I would add it to hot cider, I'd put it in my tea, hell I'd stir a spoonful of that into my oatmeal in the morning, get my holiday day off to a more satisfying start. Wouldn't you?

The Advil Calendar 2011: 12/11/11: Sunday Bloody Sunday Edition

You woke up with a hangover because of that punch, didn't you, even though it was totally devoid of artificially flavors or fortified sugar syrups. Hm. You must have had kind of a lot of punch. Feeling a little sticky? This will help.

ON THE ELEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS:




That's right. Tim Riggins with his shirt off for almost an entire movie. Still hasn't washed his hair though I see. And here's a Martian cocktail to go with:

Angry Red Planet, from Atomic Cocktails

Coarse salt
1/4 t grated fresh ginger
1/2 t wasabi or prepared horseradish
1/2 t minced garlic
4 dashes soy sauce
1 T fresh lemon juice
fresh-cracked pepper to taste
2 oz. pepper vodka
3 oz. tomato juice
1 t fresh lime juice
1 lime wedge for garnish
Salt the rim of a highball glass and chill the glass.
Combine the ginger, wasabi, garlic, soy sauce, lemon juice, and pepper in a bowl and muddle into a paste. Stir in the vodka. Pour the mixture into a large mixing glass along with the tomato juice and lime juice.
Fill the chilled glass with ice and add the vodka mixture.
Garnish with the lime wedge.

And you know what will really help? If I send my houseboy over there to make it for you because Jesus Christ that's a lot of work. Atomic Cocktails is one of those books that came out ten years ago when people were all of a sudden like OH HAI COCKTAILS HOW RETREAUX. The books featured kitschy design and overbuilt drinks with overcute names. Also, they were written prior to The Great Hipster Rediscovery of Traditional Spirits, which I think dates to about 2004 (2001 in NYC), and so the drinks in them are destitute of flavorful, pungent items like Aperol and Cynar.

But listen: if you want a Bloody Mary, this will do just fine:

1 1/2 oz vodka
3 oz tomato juice
2 dashes Worcestershire sauce
juice of half a lemon
dash of salt
ground pepper
Shake it all up, strain into a wineglass. Garnish with lemon and a dusting of pepper if desired.

That is a perfectly proportioned Bloody Mary, by Bix Biederbeck, from his restaurant in San Francisco. He put out a book called Bixology, a petite, hand-sized item which looks like a pocket mixer's manual from the 1930's but which is in fact more like a midget Book of Lists, with quotes, little food recipes, Phascinating Phacts, glossaries and the like.

And unless you need to be reminded of Dorothy Parker's thoughts on cocktails ("Two and I'm under the table, three and I'm under" blah blah "the host" yeah we know Dottie you're such a SLUUUUT) (This has never occured to me before, but she was like the first female shock comic, the Sarah Silverman of her day) (Sarah Silverman, if you're reading this, don't let it go to your head. The reverse is not true)... um anyway, my point is that although the very few drink recipes in Bixology are indeed fine and often devastatingly simple, you can easily find them elsewhere. 



Rest up drinkers, because tomorrow's Monday and Gwyneth Paltrow is going to show us how to make a drink.