What happened to cocktails? It occurred to me recently that no one has offered me one for a long time, nor have I made one. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever made myself a cocktail, unless you count a Bloody Mary or a Harvey Wallbanger from a long time ago. Here, everyone loves a Kir royal: sparkling white wine or champagne with a glug of blackcurrant liquor. Delicious! But not the sort of Mad Men cocktail I’m thinking of.
My weekend drinking habit is always the same: if it’s not red wine (or chilled rosé in the summer), it’s Martini Bianco and tonic. Same old, same old.
So I thought: what if I made myself a great cocktail this weekend? You know, the kind our parents used to drink. I googled around and came up with a Sidecar and a Daquiri. It’s settled then. I’ll make myself one or the other. I’ll have to buy all the ingredients first, including a cocktail glass and a shaker. And I’ll make that delicious olive-fig tapenade I made on New Year’s Eve, served on those Swedish crackers I’m addicted to.
During these dreary Covid lockdown-curfew times I guess you have to make your own party. Ideally, I’d love nothing more than to sit in a dark intimate bar with a drink and an interesting companion on the stool beside me. Quiet jazz in the background. Ice cubes tinkling in my glass. Chatting with the bartender and laughing.
Here’s Dushan the bartender in just such a bar. He’ll make you a Daiquiri. Thanks, Dushan. Cheers!