Foreplay: I am a boozer through and through. Truth be told, I've been drinking everyday since Wednesday -- whether it was a Black & Tan at a bar on St. Patrick's Day or sake with sushi at my cousin's 9th birthday party this weekend.
I am not shy when it comes to booze. Through the magical elixir, my palette has traveled from classy Manhattan to beautiful Blue Hawaii[n]. My tongue has swum with Polar Bears and ridden with Cocksucking Cowboys. I've wined, dined, had tequila with lime. I wouldn't say I'm an expert or connoisseur of alcohol -- just a really big fan.
The Down and Dirty: Gemini and I spontaneously stopped by the Black Boar on Monday for a drink... which turned into 2, then 3... and then we eventually found ourselves gorging on taco truck 3 hours later. Case of the Mondays indeed. But I digress.
As soon as we planted ourselves at the bar, a gentleman festooned with a handle bar mustache sidled up in front of us. Despite the ironic facial hair and quintessential flannel button-up, there was a confident and comedic air about him that dispelled any assumption of hipster-dom. In fact, he turned out to be the best bartender I've ever met. He immediately asked what we'd be sampling tonight. Sample? For free? In a L.A. bar? And it's not roofied?! Count me in! He practically served us everything on tap, then bought himself a bottle of nicer beer and gave us a glass while regaling tales of his touring days with The Flaming Lips.
After pumping myself full of $3 pear cider, I badgered Gemini for a D.V. task. She thought for a moment while sipping her Speckled Hen. "Have you ever had a drink made just for you?"
My eyes lit up as I took in the fully stocked bar before us. "Barkeep!"
I demanded an original drink from the bartender -- something that he had never made before. As he twirled his waxed mustache, he whipped up something he called The Pirate -- freshly squeezed lemons and limes, Mount Gay rum, a dash of sugar, and soda water.
"This was something I created when I was homeless and crashing with a friend," he said while planting the glass before me, "I wanted to get fucked up and only had a gallon of this rum so I stole some limes from the neighbor's tree. It was all I could afford. Man, drugs were bad back then. At least something good came out of it," he reminisced. Uh huh...
It was like a mojito sans mint leaves. So incredibly refreshing, I could see myself sipping this in the summer time. Very tasty. And very deadly.... which I only figured out 3 hours later when I had trouble navigating my carne asada quesadilla into my mouth.
The Afterglow: Even though that was one hell of a cocktail that he hadn't made for ages, I was slightly disappointed that it wasn't an original drink. Daily Virgin fail. That's what I get for asking a seasoned bartender who claims a can of Strongbow, a Vicodin, and tons of pot is the best cure for a hangover.
But now I'm determined to find a bartender who will whip something up that will pop both our cherries.
P.S. During a drunken yet classy party in college (I swear it's not an oxymoron), I whipped up the most ghetto chocolate martini ever (alright, maybe it is):
1 part vanilla vodka
1 part amaretto
1 part skim milk
1 packet of Swiss Miss instant hot chocolate (what can I say? I'm all class)
Add ingredients into a cocktail shaker with some ice. Shake until chocolate has dissolved. Serve in a chilled martini glass or a red plastic cup. Enjoy!