Ah, the cocktail. Certainly a subject worthy of a six-thousand word essay in a political magazine because, as I live and breathe, our ability to appreciate the fine interplay of flavors and textures in these refreshing beverages is what separates us from the beasts. And by beasts, good sirs, I of course mean the mouth-breathing subhumans who, due to low character or indifferent upbringing, have no choice but to submit to my attentions as I berate them for befouling my Gin Rickey with carbonated water of insufficient freshness. Beasts, I tell you! Why, you can hardly find a barman anymore who understands that one need not garnish my Old-Fashioned with fresh orange slices. Which is when I says, I says, jesh ferget it, jesh gimme whatever ye got on speshel, you ‘en your idiot friends tellin’ ME how to make a cocktail, that’ll be the day, yeah, thass a laugh ‘n a half….
Please. True, anybody who outs himself as a Jigger Enforcer is way too uptight about their booze habit, but I’d rather have a long, fussy article about booze than no article about booze — especially when that article presents useful facts about where to go to consume fine beverages…especially in the RAVA metropolitan area…and where to find classic texts on fine beverage-making.