Little Drinks

Need a nightcap *rummagerummagerummage*  bottle of Lillet... can't remember what I actually bought that for... nope, not in the mood for Galliano, too strong... hey, there's that Pisa, don't know, Lillet and nuts?  Want gentle, gentle boozemahol... white Creme De Cacao?  Yeah, that works...

"Then you need some crushed ice!" says The Housemate.

"Yepyep... hey, you want anything?" I reply.

"Maybe some honey vodka?  Wait, do we have coconut milk?"

"Yeah, totally!"

"But I don't want to open a whole can just for a cocktail though."

"Dude we have some in the fridge already!  And we have Midori!"

"Awesome!"

Both drinks have approx. 1/2 oz of each ingredient in them.  So if you're a lighweight like me and get a little booze-peckish just before hittin' the sack, these drinks are ideal. 

In fact, they're almost like those mini-cupcakes that you buy when you don't quite feel like a whole faceful of red-velvet-with-buttercream.

The As-Yet-Un-Named (Courtesy of The Housemate)

• 2 x crushed ice cubes
• 1/2 oz Medos Honey Vodka
• teaspoon of Midori
• teaspoon of coconut milk

It's all about being gentle, isn't it?  Get your small glass, either a sherry or pousse cafe type.  Pour in the Midori, then layer the Medos, then layer on the coconut milk.  Top with ice. 

The Small Slouch 

• 1/2 oz Lillet
• 1/2 oz White Creme De Cacao
• 2 x crushed ice cubes

 Again, get your small glass.  Pour each ingredient over ice, stir briefly.

Oh, and I must say, if you add 1/2 oz of Mozart White Chocolate, then it becomes a Sperm Donor.  Tastes lovely, looks awful!  Hence the name.  I shall spare you pictures. 

Enforced Teetotalling (Or 'Why No Drinkies, Lady?')

The summer sun.  The great outdoors.  The heat, heat, heat.
 
These are not my drinking buddies.  In fact, these conspire against me to practically teetotal through this recent Antipodean summer.  Warmth, light, alcohol and genetics can turn me into a sneezing, hive-ridden mess, scrabbling for my blessed aspirin-in-water.  I have had to deny myself gin, rum, whisky, scotch, vodka and other handsome delights. 
Why, I fixed myself a Rusty Nail shortly before Christmas and had to go have a good lie down with a cool, damp washcloth.  A sad state of affairs.

There is some peculiarly good news on the horizon, however.  The cold is returning to these Southern climes.  The mornings are darker, and whilst the days melt into unmistakable warmth, they begin with a chill.  Soon, it will be time for port, brandy, the odd cheeky cigar and (fake) fur-wrapped shenanigans.  No more swooning in the heat!

So, with chilly fabulousness in mind, I give you a little recipe for that Northern winter classic - Eggnog. 

Mr Boston-ish Rum Eggnogg

A Christmas morning drink.  How else was I going to cope with the various vagabonds and miscreant visitors, heaping piles of foodstuffs and peculiarly ribald activity? And so I shall drink what, and when, I damn well please.

• 6 Eggs
• 1 cup sugar (I used castor sugar)
• 1 cup spiced rum (Captain Morgan is a friend of mine)
• 1 pint cream (the original recipe calls for 'half-and-half', i just used regular cream)
• 1 pint milk

You'll need a large jug (such as a big ol' beer jug) and a stick mixer.  Seperate eggs.  The whites go into the jug and get whipped to buggery first by the stick mixer.  Plunge the stick mixer in back and forth like you're indicating something rude - that gets more air in.  Obscene gestures equal added fluffiness in the final result, just accept it and SHUSH!  Now add the rest of the ingredients.  Refrigerate for at least 3 hours.  Garnish with nutmeg.  Serve.

Repeat the entire process if necessary.  If the company is exceptionally tiresome OR if Christmas = one massive pissup, make alot.  It's not a drink - it's an entire holiday strategy.

To the Very Nice People at Pimm's

It is with regret that I inform you of my recent improper conduct. 

I am painfully aware of the foolishness of my actions.

It is understood that the manner in which to consume a Pimm's No.1 Cup is perched upon a veranda whilst the sun sets in some humid clime.  The drink should be brought out by a waiter sporting a white shirt and black bow tie.  It also preferable for consumption to occur in some ex-colonial outpost, such as the Penang Club.  And yes, it should be loaded with ice and gaspingly cold.  It should also sport a range of garnishes that would make Carmen Miranda's headdress appear ungenerous.

It is also verily understood that it should NOT be consumed in an inner Western suburb of Melbourne, warm, at 3am on Halloween night.  And yes, penance should also be made for drinking it out of a paper cup, denuded of its usual mint/orange/cucumber/apple/strawberry/what-have-you.
For that I am very, very sorry and promise not to do it again.


P.S. At least I never tried to force French Mel to drink that concoction of Omni Blue, marshmallow liqueur, violet-flavoured vodka and dregs from a few other drinks.  That counts as being kind of good.  Right?

Classic Cocktail - The Tom Collins

Last night was a night like any other... except it wasn't.  Sure, I came home from work dog-tired, hauled my ass out for a pub dinner and mostly avoided causing trouble. 

What made last night new and shiny was that I had my first Tom Collins. 

It was delicious.  The lemon and simple syrup tempered any harshness presented by the gin and highlighted its more subtle, complex qualities.  The lemon provided spark and the simple syrup gave the drink cohesiveness. 

Topped by soda, all elements 'dressed' the gin beautifully, like bluebirds helping Cinderella get ready for the ball!  Yes, I do get carried away.  Anyhow, my point is that a Tom Collins is the perfect example of all elements working well. 

My initial inspiration for trying out the drink was none other than Betty Draper from Mad Men.  Most characters in the show have 'their' drink, and the Tom Collins is hers.  Ol’ Tom seems to be more reliable than Don!

I also I wanted to give this drink a try because of its hotly-debated origins, a debate which flares whenever there's a discussion on classic cocktails.  Wikipedia touches on it, but the info there is a mere drop in the ocean.

Whatever the origins, the drink itself is refreshing, elegant and absolutely memorable.  When I told a workmate of mine about giving Tom a try, she reminisced about her first Tom Collins.  It was at her first ‘proper’ social dance when she was eighteen, almost thirty years ago in her native Ireland. 
Wearing a long gown with drink in hand, she danced the night away.

A Violet Fog

Well, cats and kittens, I've been gnashing my teeth and waving my fists at a highly annoying task I've had to conduct of late.  I can't reveal what it is, but it had me bleary-eyed in front of my computer screen for hours, hurling obscenities.

Now if that doesn't send a girl to the liquor cabinet, I don't know what does.  So what did I whip up?  Well, it's pretty, purple and deserving of some exotic name - perhaps derived from some Belle Epoque courtesan?

Alas, I could only come up with one fitting, but dull name for this drink - The Consolation.  Because what else it there to do but drown yourself in violet fog when things are oh-so-difficult?

The Consolation

1/2 oz violet liquer

1/2 oz lychee liquer

1 1/2 oz honey vodka

Shake well with ice, pour into the daintiest glass you can find and if you're feeling especially delicate, pop a maraschino cherry in. 

Cocoon yourself inside a warm duvet. A baleful glance in silk pyjamas also helps. 
Have a wee nap, don't forget the eyemask.  Now that's better.

[Edit: Happier times have come, which calls for a cocktail rename - The Constellation it is!]