How's Your Drink?

by Jay

Although we strive for anti-intellectualism here at Tipsy, every now and again, we do actually read. And by that, I mean books. I know, I know… I’m ruining our reputation as good-for-nothing lay-abouts. Sorry ‘bout that.

  Par exemple, just the other day, ElMarko surprised me with three books. I was stressing mightily about unrelated issues, and the sight of three bits of entertainment was most-welcome. When I had a moment, I cracked open “How’s Your Drink?” by Eric Felten, and it’s been a delight to say the least. Mr. Felten has a popular Sunday column by the same name in The Wall Street Journal, and this book is a collection of those pieces.

Let me admit here that, despite my booziness, my knowledge of cocktails is rather scant. I don’t think I’d ever had anything beyond some sweet horror show until I was past thirty, and since then, I don’t get too adventurous; I didn’t like the martinis that I’ve had because warm gin is just plain nasty, but since they remain so highly popular, I’ve decided that there is something gravely wrong with my palate that prevents me from enjoying tepid swill.

However, I learned from Mr. Felten that the reason I dislike most martinis is because they’re not proper martinis! Wha….?!! (Of course, I could’ve just re-read Johnny Lager’s martini column, but that’s neither here nor there.) Mr. Felten provides an overview of the evolution of martinis from the Martinez to the fruity sugar bombs that currently stink up menus. Pomegranatini, anyone?

Martinis should not, apparently, be served in massive glasses. Mr. Felten made the point that the three-martini lunches of yore were only possible because martinis were small. Fancy that! So ad execs of Madison Ave didn’t do their best work shitfaced? I demand a recount!

Enough about martinis, though. Let’s move on to other classic cocktails, shall we?

When I lived in New York, I would occasionally treat myself to a drink at the Algonquin. Yes, I understand that the ghosts of Dorothy Parker et al have long since fled, but I can’t resist a big, deep armchair and a Sazerac on a cold night. Yes, you read right: a Sazerac. I’d never heard of it either, but according to Mr. Felten, it originated in New Orleans which only makes me love it more.

And speaking of Manhattan, I am now a fully-versed expert on Manhattans. Again, I’d only had one or two in my life and they were insanely strong. Mr. Felten notes that this once wildly popular drink fell from favor right around the time “Rabbit, Run” was published. Updike’s leading lady was a pathetic drunk who swilled sugary Manhattans all day. Not being too sweet myself, I wouldn’t dig on that either, so I’ll have to try out his recipe for THE way to make Manhattans. And then tweak it, of course.

So run out and grab “How’s Your Drink?” Even if you’re not the literary type, you can get a great lil’ book of recipes. And if you’re obsessive like me, you’ll likely fantasize about the next Sazerac, preferably on a New Orleans balcony.