Dirty Martinis and Dark 'n' Stormy's
(TMI warning: family members may wish to skip this one.)
Well, hello spring, you flirty mistress of both winter and summer--a little dirty, a little wet--you volley between gracing us with that lovely sunny face and pummeling us with cold harsh torrents of your displeasure.
My friends, what else can one do, but follow spring's lead by choosing cocktails that are not only a little dirty and a little wet but that also reflect either an overall lightness or turbulence, depending on the day. And certainly, these choices will fit the correlative properties of our own inner serenity or craziness.
In case you are either rolling your eyes or going "huh?" take these examples...
Wednesday evening, I had a "date" with, well, let's call him Mr. FwB. If you consider the acronym long enough, you may realize there is the potential for a refreshing amount of uncomplicated fun with an FwB (e.g., no obligation, no worries about what's next, no long phone calls, no stress!). So, when his e-mail proclaimed that was his game, it took me, oh about 30 seconds, to decide that such a situation might be delightful. (I mean, really why not?)
The weather, the situation and the venue--Les Halles, an old-school French establishment on Park Avenue--inspired me to order a slightly dirty Belvedere martini with olives. Bourbon seemed too heavy, too harsh, too somber for such a beautiful evening. And, there is something endlessly sexy about a martini, particularly when it's a little on the dirty side.
My date ordered a fully dirty martini, proclaiming that he is dirtier than I, which did not actually prove to be the case. I will spare you the details that even a Digital Girl would be wary to post online, but let me just say I would venture to change his acronym to "Mr. Fw?". Perhaps it was the giant-sized martinis at Les Halles. Regardless, I offer this bit of advice to you my friends: never take someone home on a school night if they have to cross two rivers to get back to their own apartment because it's hard to find the heart to kick them out at 3:00 a.m. when the evening has turned into a minor disaster.
The next morning I stood in the shower, sleep deprived and thoroughly annoyed with the exaggerated and repeated sound of yawning travel through the bedroom door, across a short hallway and through the bathroom door. Good lord, welcome to animal planet Astoria, ladies and g's. Oh, look, it's that rare breed--the noisy yawner!)
And, what an awkward subway ride. (Sharing the commute is definitely against FWB protocol! As is texting during the work day. And while we are at it, so is asking for a sip of my coffee after declining a cup of your own. I'm too cranky in the morning to handle chatter about the Beattles and to endure the excitable upper arm punch that comes with an exclamation about what a great band Queen was.)
I'm not as terribly cruel as you might think, my friends, but add a canceled "second-chance date" to the mix, and it all becomes blog fodder, because, quite frankly, canceling plans without reason is insulting.
Sorry, I digress back into the realms of Digital Girl, and you are here for Urban Gastronomy, so let me get back to the cocktails. (But, as a bonus, if you see me in person, you can ask me about the "morning after" text.) I may regret the evening, but I do not regret the martini--refreshing and light and a little dirty, just like spring.
Let's move forward, shall we, to later in the week...
Saturday evening, in line with the bipolar nature of our dear flirty mistress, my mood was less light. It was a contemplative day following a memorial service for a close friend's family member. The weather was still nice, but the inner barometer called for a different beverage. LP mixed up a dark 'n' stormy for me with Gosling's Black Seal Rum (from Bermuda), ginger ale and a lemon wedge.
We sipped our tempestuous drinks and snacked on her amazing homemade hummus, olives, blue cheese, celery, rye bread and cheesy poofs. We followed the first round with a few pours of Black Maple Hill bourbon and watched Ocean's 11 as entertainment requiring little thought or emotional involvement. Neither of us had tried Black Maple Hill before. LP bought it because of she liked the bottle, but it turned out to be more than a pretty label... quite delicious. So, my evening was as good for the soul as the spring sunshine.
That's all I have for you, my friends. This coming week may start with a rainy day, but it's already shaping up to be more fun than last week.
Stay tuned for all-you-can-eat pork sliders and other adventures! And, save the date for next Saturday. The rum, hot-sauce and jerk seasoning party invitation is on it's way!
(TMI warning: family members may wish to skip this one.)
Well, hello spring, you flirty mistress of both winter and summer--a little dirty, a little wet--you volley between gracing us with that lovely sunny face and pummeling us with cold harsh torrents of your displeasure.
My friends, what else can one do, but follow spring's lead by choosing cocktails that are not only a little dirty and a little wet but that also reflect either an overall lightness or turbulence, depending on the day. And certainly, these choices will fit the correlative properties of our own inner serenity or craziness.
In case you are either rolling your eyes or going "huh?" take these examples...
Wednesday evening, I had a "date" with, well, let's call him Mr. FwB. If you consider the acronym long enough, you may realize there is the potential for a refreshing amount of uncomplicated fun with an FwB (e.g., no obligation, no worries about what's next, no long phone calls, no stress!). So, when his e-mail proclaimed that was his game, it took me, oh about 30 seconds, to decide that such a situation might be delightful. (I mean, really why not?)
The weather, the situation and the venue--Les Halles, an old-school French establishment on Park Avenue--inspired me to order a slightly dirty Belvedere martini with olives. Bourbon seemed too heavy, too harsh, too somber for such a beautiful evening. And, there is something endlessly sexy about a martini, particularly when it's a little on the dirty side.
My date ordered a fully dirty martini, proclaiming that he is dirtier than I, which did not actually prove to be the case. I will spare you the details that even a Digital Girl would be wary to post online, but let me just say I would venture to change his acronym to "Mr. Fw?". Perhaps it was the giant-sized martinis at Les Halles. Regardless, I offer this bit of advice to you my friends: never take someone home on a school night if they have to cross two rivers to get back to their own apartment because it's hard to find the heart to kick them out at 3:00 a.m. when the evening has turned into a minor disaster.
The next morning I stood in the shower, sleep deprived and thoroughly annoyed with the exaggerated and repeated sound of yawning travel through the bedroom door, across a short hallway and through the bathroom door. Good lord, welcome to animal planet Astoria, ladies and g's. Oh, look, it's that rare breed--the noisy yawner!)
And, what an awkward subway ride. (Sharing the commute is definitely against FWB protocol! As is texting during the work day. And while we are at it, so is asking for a sip of my coffee after declining a cup of your own. I'm too cranky in the morning to handle chatter about the Beattles and to endure the excitable upper arm punch that comes with an exclamation about what a great band Queen was.)
I'm not as terribly cruel as you might think, my friends, but add a canceled "second-chance date" to the mix, and it all becomes blog fodder, because, quite frankly, canceling plans without reason is insulting.
Sorry, I digress back into the realms of Digital Girl, and you are here for Urban Gastronomy, so let me get back to the cocktails. (But, as a bonus, if you see me in person, you can ask me about the "morning after" text.) I may regret the evening, but I do not regret the martini--refreshing and light and a little dirty, just like spring.
Let's move forward, shall we, to later in the week...
Saturday evening, in line with the bipolar nature of our dear flirty mistress, my mood was less light. It was a contemplative day following a memorial service for a close friend's family member. The weather was still nice, but the inner barometer called for a different beverage. LP mixed up a dark 'n' stormy for me with Gosling's Black Seal Rum (from Bermuda), ginger ale and a lemon wedge.
We sipped our tempestuous drinks and snacked on her amazing homemade hummus, olives, blue cheese, celery, rye bread and cheesy poofs. We followed the first round with a few pours of Black Maple Hill bourbon and watched Ocean's 11 as entertainment requiring little thought or emotional involvement. Neither of us had tried Black Maple Hill before. LP bought it because of she liked the bottle, but it turned out to be more than a pretty label... quite delicious. So, my evening was as good for the soul as the spring sunshine.
That's all I have for you, my friends. This coming week may start with a rainy day, but it's already shaping up to be more fun than last week.
Stay tuned for all-you-can-eat pork sliders and other adventures! And, save the date for next Saturday. The rum, hot-sauce and jerk seasoning party invitation is on it's way!
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