Tag Archives: girl drink

Blue Marg- serve w chips and salsa

5 May

20140505-024651.jpg

Fact: Margaritas should be served with chips and salsa. Soft salted pretzels are also okay if you serve the margarita unsalted. That works, my sweet babies.

More facts:

I am doing a staged reading of a spec script at a snazzy place with some good people to meet this coming weekend and I am excited because I am the “wise-cracking best friend”. So I get to make fun of people, including myself.

Fact: Margaritas should be served neat.

Fact: Margaritas require fresh lime juice. I know, there is a shortage. Shell out a spare penny, you spend more on crappy coffee and you deserve a good adult drink.

AND FINALLY

Fact: Margaritas are best when blue.

Don’t you sass me. Blue curaçao is the shiz-nit. And it is pretty and refreshing to look at. Like a stale browser, you need refreshing. Because–last fact: it got hot.

Blue Margarita from the Ultimate Bar Book by Mittie Hellmich (wording mine)
Lime wedge
Kosher salt
2 oz. blanco tequila (I used Sauza)
1 oz. blue curaçao
1 oz. Cointreau
1 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
Run lime wedge around chilled glass edge. Dip in salt. Put in freezer whilst assembling your drink. Shake up everything else with ample ice then strain into the glass. Serve with an extra slice of lime, big spender. You’re worth it.

Advertisements

STL I <3 U

10 Jul

20130705-135857.jpg

TOTES forgive me for, like, my cray use of stuff like <3's, but I just luv my hometown-you can find a beginner’s guide to my fave StL places here.
But I also went to new places this time and the new places convinced me of one thang.
I luv StL even mo because it is ON the craft cocktail thang.
2 many ccktls explain y I’ve devolved 2 so many abbr. words.

Okay, time lapse, I am better now. Bear with me and this post, for there is a drink for you at the end of the road.

And for Kelly, well, I don’t have anything for you, but I promise if you are ever at my house I’ll make the mocktail of your dreams.
After chilling with my parents and some corn in the cob, I started the partay-ing segment of Friday night at Basso, a new gastropub. In true St. Louis fashion it took all of five minutes for me to run into a ghost from the past. The creator of the “Philharmic” drink, Phil, and I worked at a restaurant together when I was in college. I had been in the mood for wine but the cocktail list was too dang interesting. Why have grapes when you could get a Criminale, made with bourbon, pistachio, pear, lemon and cinnamon? Between the three of us we sampled quite a few things. Almost all of them were a bit more sweet than I’d have liked, but were still tasty, if not quite balanced. That is balanced for those of us with bitter tastes in beverages.
I managed to avoid getting into the booze all day Saturday, which began by heading to The St. Louis Art Museum which is magically amazing and free.

20130705-142305.jpg
The SLAM has an Ahhhh-mazing new modern wing that was opening that very day. Again, in StL fashion I bumped into another old ghost, my high school art teacher who now works at the museum and was a part of the creation of the new wing. Ahhhh, Rothko:

20130705-165937.jpg
I began to reminisce about how my high school had neither a football team nor cheerleaders, but a killer chess team and my father informed me that St. Louis is actually considered the chess capital if the world.

The more you know.

After SLAM we traversed Forest Park aka one of the top ten urban parks in the world to the zoo (also free) to see the new sea lion exhibit. Such cute sea kittens.

Back home it was Clue-playing time with the rentz. I am always Miss Scarlett. Don’t even TRY to be her, she’s mine. I do get bossy sometimes. Seeing as I am queen.

I lost the game.

On with cocktails! One of my most highly anticipated activities was a date with my fwife (definition here) at Taste by Niche where I wanted to try every single one of Ted Kilgore’s cocktails. Taste is getting quite known, and rightfully so. Eleonor learned what Cynar was and I learned to pronounce it. Chee-NAHR. Not SIGH-nar.
Whoops-a-daisy.

Lemme tell you. I need to figure out the Old Flame. My beverage (please pronounce that bev-ehr-RAUGE in your head) included cognac, rye, cocchi rose, dolin dry, solerno blood orange, and absinthe. I had to look up some of those. I would need to buy most of those. But it might just be worth it. It was enough, more cocktails there and I’d have been under the bar, and I wanted my wits about me to enjoy my fwife night.

And yet after some pizaa dinner at the solid Central Table Food Hall, ince back at home we decides to continue the cocktail madness and I raided my parents’ liqueur supply to make a dessert drink. Actually, my mom had requested I make something to use up the vanilla vodka in the freezer so I HAD to oblige.

The recipe awaits your thirsty tongue at the end of this post.

We also made chocolate chip cookies (actually I ate the dough, Eleanor went for the cookies). From the only recipe you really need.

Like, in life. For-evah.

Sunday day included the best damn cup of coffee in the world with my fwife and two of my best damn friends in the world. Meshuggah I have been faithful to you since the wee coffee-swilling age of 13, and I always will, at least when I visit St. Louis.

Next up, a movie with the rents’. I thoroughly endorse Whedon’s version of Much Ado. Much fun.

More Clue. I love that game. Lost one, won one.

Dinner and more cocktail madness came with Andrew, another of the best friends in St. Louis (I have about 3, plus the fwife, I hope that is ok-I realize it is several “bests” but it doesn’t seem too excessive). Andrew is also the fearless leader if the taiko group I used to play with. I miss being in the band.

On with the cocktail madness. Sanctuaria had an out of this world program. I can’t even begin to discuss the merits if the Manhanzerac and all the other delights we drank. Come to think of it, the Old Flame I drank at Taste had elements of a Manhattan-Sazerac mash-up, but also mashed with an Old Pal. I need to figure out my own perfect mash-up of said beverages.

And I want to go back to Sanctuaria. And I want the book. Matt Seiter done good.

Whilst you await my own Manhattan-erac-a’-pal, please accept a very sweet beverage.

FWIFE-NIGHT (makes two. duh.)
1 oz. vanilla vodka
1 oz. Kahlua
1 oz. clear creme de cacao
1/2 oz. amaretto
1 oz. half and half
8 raspberries
orange twist
Add everything but 4 raspberries and the orange peel to a mixing glass. Muddle the berries then add ice and stir the shit out of it. Strain into dainty cups. Float raspberries. Run peel around rim, twist, and drop in. These are very sweet, pretty, SMALL drinks. Probably the way that super-sweet dessert drinks should be.
I hear-tell recently that you shouldn’t drop the citrus peel in the drink unless it is one of those classics like a horse’s neck and the spiral peel is important. But I like a peel in my drink, dammit. And the orange of the peel next to the deep red raspberries is so becoming.

Fit for a princess

19 Sep

20120617-235348.jpg
I act because I like to be other people for just a little. Or at least get inside their heads. This Saturday I’ll have the terrifically taxing role of a playing a woman at my own birthday party and…she’s into being gluten-free. That part will be quite the stretch for me.
When I was little, my first acting was probably in the make-believe games I’d play. I liked to play royalty. We’ll get back to that.

So I needed to use that citron vodka from all my Cosmos
.
That and this sounded like it could be a manly girl drink, not in name but in hard alcohol ingredients. I do love a good man-girl drink, like the mo-ellen. Oh did I just mention that?
Really guys, I am going to keep trying to get attention for the Mo-Ellen until I see it on a bar menu.

The name of this drink, “Little Princess” I don’t love. I am not a princess.
I’m a queen, always have been.

Back to playing make-believe.

My friend Anne and I used to play with my mom’s dusters when we were quite young. Imaginative sorts that we were we used them like scepters and pretended we were royalty.
Me mum had two dusters, a slightly raggedy feather one and a poofy wool one dyed in orange hues, if memory is not totally failing me.
Now naturally we both wanted the pretty colorful one. Why?
That was the feather queen’s scepter. Total duh!

But I was such a brat. I always insisted on having that one and being feather queen and Anne got the tattered one and was merely the feather princess.

I am surprised we are still friends. Fortunately I got a wee bit more giving as the years wore on.

For instance, years after she moved away she came to visit one summer, and I shared my gothic splendor with her. We were about 15. She had white-blonde hair when she arrived and I put her back on the plane with jet-black hair.

I’m surprised her parents let her still be my friend.

Enough. Here is the drink. It’s tasty, maybe even better than a straight up vodka martini, but the name blows. I’m gonna go chill out with a duster now. On my couch(I.e. throne).

Little Princess from The Bartender’s Companion

1/8 oz. dry vermouth
1 3/4 oz. citron vodka
Lemon twist
Stir it up and garnish with the twist.
Please don’t wear a tiara.