Drink 191: I Did Not Dealt It



At least it was free.



I can smell your fart.  Fast Five is playing on the tiny screen in front of me and I can smell your fart.  I was beginning to doze off to the dulcet tones of Vin Diesel delivering lines as he tears towards a cliff in his 1966 Corvette Grand Sport but thanks to your malodorous cloud I am still awake. We are somewhere over the North Atlantic and I am in the type of haze caused by two free beers and an Advil PM. It is either 3:30 AM or 9:30 PM depending on whether you have adjusted your watch yet.   And you farted.  And I smelt it.





View of Paris? from the window.
Might have missed this
 without the fart



What the hell is wrong with you?  Are you lazy or vindictive?  I already know the answer: “Yes.” There is a bathroom no more than 10 feet from your seat unless you managed to throw your fart from the back of the cabin.  Go down the stairs and fart up a storm.  Please. On this plane the bathrooms are even downstairs so you can rip away without detection.  Instead, you decided to release your intestinal gas right in your seat and now I, along with the rest of the passengers in the vicinity, am breathing your micropoopballs.  Gross.   Luckily for Mrs. Bottle she slept through it.  Actually, there are times in the middle of the night when I’m glad she has that ability.



On the bright side I will now get to see more of Paul Walker and The Rock Dwayne Johnson driving fast and blowing crap up.  That really translates well on a 320x240 screen with headphones with one ear intermittently cutting out.  All the while smelling your fart.  Did you eat a cabbage and broccoli salad before the flight?  Next time, please try some of these tips.  I recommend asking the flight attendant to move you to an empty corner of the plane.  That should also enhance you chances of getting a date with her later.  They love honesty.

Yep, that's what happened.



Not purple.



Since we are discussing honesty I feel obligated to let you know that today’s drink the Purple Pancho has a misleading name.  It is not purple at all.  It is kind of teal which is pretty far from purple unless you are talking about proximity on the Charlotte Hornets’ uniforms.  The drink is a combination of tequila, blue Curaçao, sloe gin, lime juice, simple syrup, and lemon juice.  Once you get over the confusion about the name, the taste is pretty good.  It is essentially a slightly sweeter Margarita.  I couldn’t really detect the sloe gin other than a slight prune-y  bouquet which would have been extremely welcome on my flight.  Mrs. Bottle found the drink a little too sweet but I had no problem with it other than the name.  I am going to rename it the Teal-a Tequila though.

Overall Rating for the Purple Pancho

Taste: 4

Presentation: 0

Ease of Preparation: 3

Drinks Until Blackout: 9 – 11% Alcohol

Ingredients

1 oz Tequila

0.5 oz Blue Curaçao

0.5 oz Sloe Gin

2 oz Lime Juice

1 oz Lemon Juice

1 oz Simple Syrup

Drink 190: Meet the New Blog, Same as the Old Blog

Why does Mrs. Bottle hate me?  It has been almost a month since we have posted a drink and yesterday she suggested we fire things up again.  “Sure” I said, not knowing what drink she had chosen.  It turns out she had selected the Caruso, a mixture of gin, dry vermouth, and crème de menthe.   It was not good.   The combination of mint and vermouth is the worst pairing since Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn.

David Caruso does not approve

Honestly, I would have never agreed to resume blogging if I’d known she would make me drink this crap.  The Caruso is bad enough that the Wall Street Journal has an entire article about the perplexing nature of the drink’s origins and longevity.  The freaking Wall Street Journal!  You’d think they would be too busy writing about the collapse of the world economy instead.  I guess in 2009 things didn’t look so dire. Maybe if they had been a little more focused we wouldn’t be in this mess. 

Here’s what they wrote:

A Caruso cocktail survives, dusty from disuse, in the pages of the average bartender’s guide. That drink is compounded of equal parts gin, dry vermouth and crème de menthe [Ed Note: slightly different than ours], and it’s not very good. If no one drinks it, and it’s not very good, what’s it doing in the books? Perhaps the Caruso has persisted for the same reason as most of the cocktails in such compendia—to fill space. If a bad recipe gets printed in one bar guide—especially a prominent one like the 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book, in which the less than palatable Caruso was listed—it soon finds its way into all the others.

Coincidentally, “filling space” is also the same reason most of NBC’s fall lineup exists.  Unfortunately for me, the Caruso is now filling space in my belly, on our blog and in your brainpan.  Space that could be better filled by other things.  Well, at least the space in my belly.

Overall Rating for the Caruso

Taste: 2

Presentation: 3

Ease of Preparation: 4

Drinks Until Blackout: 3 – 30% Alcohol

Ingredients

1.5 oz Gin

1 oz Dry Vermouth

0.5 oz Crème de Menthe