It's Only A Paper Rose

I've had a love-hate relationship with the Cosmopolitan for some time now. It's quickly become a "classic" drink, and I've made variations on it many a time before, but frankly it's just never appealed to me that much no matter how I tinker with the proportions. So I pretty much gave up on trying to come up with a "good" recipe for one.

However, when I went to a drag show recently with Philip, I saw people walking around with "Cosmopolitans" that were an oddly appealing crimson color (as opposed to the pinkish-cranberry color that most of my home concoctions possessed). Out of curiousity, I gave one a go, and was surprised at how much I liked it. It didn't taste at all like the ones I'd made, and frankly it didn't taste like there was a single natural ingredient in it, but I found myself liking it in spite of that - something about the shameless artificiality appealed to me, especially in a "trendy" drink.

I've tried a couple of times since then to replicate it, but hadn't had much luck - I figured they used some kind of from-concentrate cranberry juice as the base, but didn't have much interest in tracking down the ingredients. So the matter's been at rest until today, when I stopped at Fred Meyer for some tonic water, which happens to be located next to the drink mixes.

Hm, I found myself thinking, that Cosmopolitan mix looks like it's about the same color as that drink I had at the drag show.

And the lightbulb went on.

So now I'm not sure which makes me more sheepish: the fact that it took me this long to figure out that they used a mix at the bar, or the fact that I'm truly and honestly enjoying a drink made from a brazenly overprocessed maraschino-colored mix and Absolut Raspberri vodka.

ETA: Having finished the drink, I'm now not quite certain whether to be amused or slightly afraid that the lime wedge I tossed in is now stained bright red...

This is a little different from my usual cocktail-recipe posts. I post recipes for drinks that I find noteworthy in some way; usually it's because it's something particularly delicious. But this one definitely didn't stand out taste-wise; it was perfectly drinkable, but tasted more or less like any kind of generic girly cocktail you'd get at a bar.

That said, both the taste and the color - of which I'm sad I didn't get a picture, but Google Image Search helped me find something close - were so completely and unutterably pink that I thought I'd post it anyway.  I honestly can't think of anything that would taste pinker than this (although I'm willing to test theories, should anyone wish to posit them.)

So, the recipe:

Raspberry Cosmo

1 1/3 oz raspberry vodka
1/2 oz triple sec
1/2 oz fresh lime juice
1 oz cranberry juice

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with your favorite Cosmo garnish along with fresh raspberries.

Because really, who doesn’t love talking about themselves?

The Rules: Comment to this post. I will choose seven interests from your profile and you will explain what they mean and why you are interested in them. Post this along with your answers in your own journal so others can play along.

Interests chosen by alexmegami. If you want to hear more about me after all of this, I'll happily do others.


Bibliophilia: I love books. Always have, always will. When I was a kid, going to the library was one of my favorite activities – pulling books at random off the shelf and paging through them, scanning for the names of characters I could meet, or looking at the due date stamps to see how long it the book itself had been in the library, wondering about the lives of the people who had checked it out before me. Even the smell of them was interesting; the old, musty smell of books that had been on the shelves for years, the fainter but distinctive smell of recently-returned books. And, on special occasions, the crisp, fresh paper-smell of a brand new book of my very own.

As I grow older and become pickier about what I read, I sometimes miss the exuberant unrestrained quality of my early-life library jaunts. Now I’m much more likely to look at a book with a critical eye – “Do I know this author? Am I interested in the subject matter? Who’s recommended this book to me? Does it seem to be a well written story?” And, of course, there are the constant back-of-the-mind nagging thoughts – “Will I be able to finish this before the due date? Do I have the money to buy it right now? What about the sixteen other books sitting on my shelf waiting to be read? Will I actually read this or will it just sit around collecting dust? Is this book good enough to merit hauling along on my next move?” But every once in a while, usually while standing in the fiction section of a library, I’ll be able to let go of all of that and just appreciate the feeling of being surrounded by so many stories.

In the more specific sense of the term, I’d consider myself a bit of a collector; obviously, financial and space considerations have kept me from achieving anything particularly noteworthy in that arena. We do, however, own a signed first printing of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, two first printings (one of each cover, hopefully to be signed in the future) of The Name of the Wind, a signed slipcased collectors’ edition of Anansi Boys, the first three volumes of Absolute Sandman, the Subterranean Press editions of the first two Dresden Files books, and a few other nifty tomes I feel rather proud to own. Obviously, Brian and I are both fans of speculative fiction; should we ever become moderately wealthy, we have plans to build a real library (complete with fireplace and wing-backed chairs) and track down some first printings of the real classics in the genre – Frankenstein, Journey to the Centre of the Earth, Dracula, etc.

Connections: This is more something I’ve noticed about myself recently – I have the sort of brain that likes to find large-scale patterns and the connections between things that make up those patterns, rather than focusing on individual details and instances. It makes me a rather poor bureaucrat, because I have trouble remembering all the fiddly little details needed in any given bit of paperwork, but it’s a useful talent for impressing one’s friends – more than once I’ve had people ask me how I get from A to B to C to D to E when they can barely recall A and B, and the answer is usually that I’ve figured out some connection or similarity between them and therefore have links between them in my head. I guess you could say that my brain works sort of like a webpage that way.

Oddly enough, it was Alice In Sunderland that really caused me to realize that about myself – I felt like the morass of information presented should be completely impenetrable, and yet I had no trouble whatsoever following it, because the whole thing was about the connections and influences between these seemingly-random events. (On the other side of the spectrum, when I’m faced with bunches of random information that have barely any theme or connection whatsoever, as was recently the case with O Lovely Glowworm, it drives me bonkers because I keep trying to organize it into some coherent whole and I just can’t do it. As Brian put it after the show, “I feel like someone’s spent three hours beating me about the head and shoulders with a pillowcase full of words.”)

Debate: Yes, I’m the daughter of a lawyer. :) I use the term “debate” (rather than “discussion” or “argument”) because it implies a certain level of formality in the proceedings. I very much like to discuss the pros and cons of various issues with people, and I’m all for arguing subjects people are passionate about, but people who let their emotions overwhelm them to the detriment of their argument annoy me – and people who refuse to logically debate things and instead resort to personal attacks or other stalling/misdirecting tactics piss me off, especially in forums like cable news networks (for a textbook example, look up the clip of Jon Stewart on Crossfire). You expect a certain amount of that kind of thing on the Internet or in real life, because making personal attacks is an easy way to get a rise out of people and avoid having to go to the trouble to logically make your points, but – theoretically – the whole idea of having a cable news show is to have rational, reasoned (and reasonable!) debate on a subject. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way Fox News discovered that people yelling and screaming at each other for no real reason gets better ratings than people debating stuff that might be important, and since then it’s all pretty much gone to hell.

Mixology: I think if anyone’s been reading my blog for the last month or two they’d have guessed at this one. :) I like mixing drinks. The sheer variety of ways people have come up with to manufacture and serve alcohol across cultures amuses me, and I find the creative side of mixology quite attractive. I like trying out new ingredients and thinking “This would taste fantastic with XYZ”, and I love the “Eureka!” moment of figuring out the perfect ingredient ratios to get the flavor I want. I like the way stirring and swirling and lining and layering and pouring and garnishing is a form of performance art.

I also like the social aspect – it’s fun to ask someone what kinds of things they enjoy, make them a drink they’ve never tried before and have them be surprised at how much they like it. I like getting feedback from folk on how to make things better, and I get a warm fuzzy feeling when someone tries a drink I’ve devised myself and says “What’s in this? This is my new favorite drink!” And I like that all of this only takes a few minutes of effort, at most. (I joke with Brian that I like making drinks for all the same reasons he likes cooking, except I don’t have the patience to cook.)

Musicals: I like theatre as a whole, but I have a soft spot in my heart for musicals. Sure, they’re completely unrealistic, but that’s the idea – they’re supposed to be a representation of what the world would be like if our emotions were reflected around us in song. Besides, some of the most classic tunes in our culture were written for musicals. They’ve stuck around because they speak to universal human experience – sheer joy (“I Could Have Danced All Night”), despair and loneliness (“Memory”), amused frustration (“How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?”), seduction (“The Phantom of the Opera”), enchantment (“Bali Ha’i”), just to name a few off the top of my head.

Singing: The above is probably an extension of my love for singing in general – watching musicals as I grew up gave me catchy and meaningful songs to sing around the house (over and over and over, according to my mother). I still do harbor dreams of making some kind of regular career as a performing actor/singer, and have had some moderate success doing karaoke (at least before the Viking quit having karaoke on Saturday nights). I figure when people around town start to recognize you, it’s a sign you’re doing something right. Unfortunately, other opportunities are a tad limited where I live. Hopefully this will change when I move somewhere with a larger musical/theatre community.

Witty humor: I had a friend tell me once that I have a wit, which Dictionary.com tells me is “the keen perception and cleverly apt expression of those connections between ideas that awaken amusement and pleasure.” I’m not exactly certain how to apply that to my personality, but since I was saying above that my mind finds connections easily, and since it’s true that I’m good at articulating things, I suppose it would make sense that my sense of humor is witty. (Dry and sarcastic at times, too.) Humor is a hard thing to quantify, but a while back I found an online quiz that did a surprisingly good job of categorizing it, and (no surprise) my sense of humor and I came up as the wit. And, given that most humor I enjoy seems to fall under the category of “witty” (and/or British), I figured it made sense to put it down as an interest.

Actually, old drink recipe, but with new (very cool) illustration, courtesy of Brian getting creative with the camera and one of his flashlights last night.

This is probably the most artificial-looking cocktail in my regular repertoire.  It wouldn't look out of place at Quark's Bar.

Green River

1 part Midori
1 part Sour Apple Schnapps
1 part sour mix

Shake together and strain into a cocktail glass.  Set on lit coaster or flashlight.  Be sure to thank alien patron in his/her/its native language.

Seems like it's been a while since I did one of those random bits-of-life updates that nobody else really cares about, most people don't read, but that often grow in personal value as time goes on. I guess that means it's time to do another one. So, without further ado:

• Ever since the yoga class I was taking ended, I've been slacking off on it. Still doing a routine a few times a week, but with significantly less frequency - and I'm starting to feel it when I wake up in the morning (stiff sore muscles and joints = boo). It seems like lack of variety might have something to do with it, so I ordered a couple new DVDs, each of which includes a slightly more varied selection of routines. I'm also thinking that if I can do at least one routine per day for the next month, I'll get myself one of the super-nice thick yoga mats they have at the Balance store (a local climbing/yoga supply place that's located in the Rock Dump).
• Things are looking fairly good financially. I finally got car repairs and taxes and things paid off, and (with some not-insignificant thanks to my mother) we've got a fair chunk of cash stashed for the wedding. We should be able to do the wedding and possibly the honeymoon without having to go into debt, which makes me very happy. This wouldn't be a middle-class financial story, however, without something ominous on the horizon; in this particular instance, Kitty needs her front bumper cover replaced, as one of the particularly nasty crop of potholes this year has de-attached the already-weakened right side. She seems to still be in drivable condition, but I should probably get it checked out nonetheless, and I'm sure that's not going to be cheap to replace. Sigh. (On the plus side, if/when I get it replaced, all the scuffs and dings and dents she's collected from previous years of plowing through snow drifts will be gone. Yay!)
• Had my one dental appointment today, which ended up requiring three shots of novocaine - it all wore off only about an hour ago. I also finally got down to the DMV to trade in my old-school laminated driver's license for a spiffy new solid plastic one. Hopefully now the bouncers at Seattle clubs won't think it's fake (I nearly had my old one confiscated, but I think at the last minute the guy decided not to bother 'cos I was from another state). I think the picture came out cute, too, in a girl-next-door sort of way. Although, given that the entire left half of my mouth felt stuffed with cotton, I'm surprised my smile isn't crooked.
• On that note - holy carp, has it really been five years since I got my license? I guess it has. Which means I've been keeping this blog (for a given value of "keeping") for about five and a half years. Dayum.
• Brian read me Neil Gaiman's latest novel, The Graveyard Book, which is absolutely one of the sweetest and most authentic stories I've ever read. I'd say it absolutely deserves to have won the Newbery medal, and I highly recommend it. I know I'm a big Gaiman fan so my recommendation might be viewed as biased, but I'd like to think that's not the case - there are several stories he's written that I admire but that haven't grabbed me in the way this has. And while The Graveyard Book isn't quite a spit-and-polish perfect story, it has that emotional resonance that makes it feel like it's about real characters who are important to you. Which, I think, is what separates a perfectly decent story from a truly great one. 
• Brian invented a drink recently and requested I put it up here, which I'm happy to do because it is simple and delicious.  So, here it is:

Stygian Sunrise

1 oz vodka
1 oz pomegranate liqueur
orange juice

Build over ice in a short glass.  Fill with orange juice; garnish with a maraschino cherry or an orange slice.

Golden Painkiller

2 parts orange-mango juice
1 1/2 parts Oronoco rum
1/2 part pineapple juice
1/2 part coconut milk
Fresh nutmeg

Shake first four ingredients and pour into cocktail glass. Wait for coconut milk to foam; grate nutmeg on top and serve.

Some notes: This is one of the few drinks I've found where the brand of rum makes a difference; you can use coconut rum or regular light rum but it won't taste the same. Substituting orange for orange-mango juice has a similar effect; it may be up to personal preference. However, DO NOT use pre-ground nutmeg - the taste of the nutmeg is an integral part of the drink, and pre-ground nutmeg has no flavor compared to freshly ground.

The weekend was nice and relaxing. Friday I went climbing with Monica, and afterward she and Brian and I caught a local band called Cayenne Blue that played a really nifty mix of folk/blues/rock. Lots of travel-oriented songs with good rolling beats; if I lived in a place where one could take a road trip, I would totally listen to them while driving. As is, however, road trips aren't an option and they don't have any recordings anyway (apparently this was their first time performing). I may have to see if I can catch them at Folk Fest, though.

Saturday was mostly spent in preparation for my Tropic Thunder party, which turned out to be a modest success. Given my somewhat shaky track record in the arena of previous party attendance, I was more than a little miffed when the time came and went and nobody showed up, and even more miffed when an hour passed with still no sign of anyone (and only one person calling to say they'd be late). Fortunately people did start arriving an hour and a half later, and everyone seemed to have a good time.

As an aside - I realize that folk my age are fairly prone to looking at an event start time as more of a guideline than an actual concrete arrival time, but am I completely alone in the under-40 set in being just a tad bit anal about punctuality? Half an hour late I can see, but an hour and a half without calling or letting the host know in advance? That just seems rude - if you've told someone you're coming, and then don't show up, it leaves them wondering if they've done something wrong or if you don't respect them. I'm not meaning to be personally judgmental (for once); I know it's sort of a generally accepted thing among younger people. But how did the idea of "tell someone you're coming and then show up whenever you feel like it, if you feel like it" being OK become so thoroughly ingrained in our culture? Is it really that hard to grab your cell phone, or send a text message, or just say in advance "Hey, I'll be there but I'll probably be a bit late?"

Okay, done complaining now.

We (minus Brian) went out dancing after the movie, which was very fun, but unfortunately something from the party (I suspect the buffalo wings) didn't quite agree with me and all my energy went kersplat. Justin ended up taking me home like the sweetheart that he is, and he and Brian and I hung out and watched silly internet videos before calling it a night.

Sunday was mostly a quiet day. Brian and I cleaned up the mess from the party, we hung around the Internet, we spent an inordinate amount of time in bed napping, we caught up on House, we read our respective books. I finally filed my taxes and paid the $540 that I owed (ouch), so to celebrate I took us out to dinner at the Hangar, and discovered that they make a fantastic Eggplant Parmesan. I also had a cocktail there that I hadn't heard of before - they called it a "Golden Painkiller" and according to the menu it involved "Oronoco rum, tropical fruit juices, coconut, and a sprinkling of nutmeg on top". (Judging from the flavor, I'd guess the "tropical fruit juices" were pineapple and orange or perhaps orange/mango juice.) What struck me the most was the nutmeg; the type they were using was extremely finely ground, which helped avoid the grittiness that often is a factor with nutmeg garnish. Plus, the flavor went remarkably well and really added to the drink rather than just being there for show. I can't find a mention of the drink online, but I enjoyed it immensely; I may have to experiment a bit and see if I can replicate or improve upon it and add it to my repertoire. (Is there some kind of etiquette involved when stealing other folks' drink recipes? Do I need to give credit in the comments? Or write "inspired by" on the recipe card?)

And now it's back to work for me. How was everyone else's weekend?

Boy, the way I've been going on about drinks lately, you'd think I was binge-drinking every night.  I know at least one of my readers would like some reassurance that that's not the case, so let me reiterate - that's not the case.  (I love you too, Mum.)

Poured neat - which is admittedly not my preferred method of gin consumption - the contrast was most interesting.  The Tanqueray smelled stronger than the Sapphire, but flavor-wise it was reversed - the Sapphire had the much stronger and more complex flavor, whereas the Tanqueray was mostly just sweet and juniper-y.  In a G&T and a Greyhound both, I preferred the Tanqueray - the complexity of the Sapphire mostly seemed lost, and the flavor of the Tanqueray shone through better.

But tonight, I tried making a martini out of the Sapphire.  And it immediately jumped in my estimation from "I'd buy it if it were on sale" to "must have a bottle for my drinks cabinet."  The vermouth blends harmoniously with the rest of the botanicals, enhancing the complexity rather than drowning it out.  And where the sweetness of the Tanqueray tends to overpower vermouth, the Sapphire complements it beautifully.  I liked martinis well enough before, but I think they just went up a few notches in my mental ranking.

A friend of mine mentioned whiskey sours the other day, and it struck me that it was one of the "classic" cocktails I'd never tried making. So, being the good amateur bartender and mixologist that I am, I immediately set about researching how to make one. I'd had a vague idea (probably prompted by seeing boxes of whiskey sour mix in the store) that it was a some combination of any type of whiskey and sour mix, but I discovered there was actually a standard recipe as written by the International Bartenders Association. Much to my surprise, it even called for a specific type of whiskey (bourbon), as well as fresh lemon juice, neither of which I had on hand.

Just for kicks, I tried some of the blended Bushmills we had on hand with some sour mix and a maraschino cherry; it was firmly in the "okay" category but nothing to get excited about. It looked like I'd have to give the official recipe a try.

To its credit, bourbon is cheap - which is good, because it's honestly not something I drink often. It's rather harsh for my palate and it doesn't feature in many cocktails. (Although, come to think of it, it would make a fantastic pity-party drink - the harshness at the beginning as it burns down your throat balanced out by the comforting warmth in your stomach afterwards.) I purchased a bottle of one-level-above-super-cheap stuff (Jim Beam Black) and a couple of lemons, made some syrup, dumped out some crappy tequila we'd had around for a while so I could have the bottle for the syrup, and mixed up the drink.

I have to admit that my hopes were not high at this point. As stated above, I'm not a huge fan of bourbon, and the relative amount of lemon juice seemed fairly large. But I mixed it up anyway, tossed in a couple cherries, and gave it a sip.

Wow.

Considering the relative lack of subtlety of the base ingredients, it's a surprisingly complex flavor. The lemon juice helps tamp down the oversweetness of the bourbon, while the syrup balances out the harsh boozy flavor. What's left is the core of the flavor, the sour mash, brought to the fore by the lemon juice but kept from undrinkability by the syrup. Even Brian, who actively hates bourbon and isn't a huge fan of sour things, was surprised at how palatable it was.

It's not going to replace gin-based drinks as my favorite, I don't think, but it might show up occasionally on the rotation. Hooray for trying new things.

One of these posts, I need to get around to an actual narrative-style life-type update. But this was such a puzzlingly perfect discovery that I needed to put it up for posterity:


Pineapple Lifesaver

1 part Van Gogh Pineapple Flavored Vodka
1/2 part 99 Peaches
1/2 part sour mix
Simply Lemonade

Build over ice in a short glass; fill with lemonade and stir. Coat both sides of a grapefruit wheel with sugar; garnish and serve.


This was one of those strange accidents that just turned out oddly perfect. I was flipping through a book of drink recipes and came across one called "Cheap Sunglasses" that involved pineapple vodka and a couple other ingredients I had sitting around. However, I had no 7up or Midori, and I had some lemonade in the fridge, so I ended up making the concoction listed above. I tasted it and thought "Hey, this is good, it's kind of tropical tasting." So I handed it to Brian to taste, and his reaction was...

"This tastes exactly like a pineapple Lifesaver."

And I tried it again, and wow, was he right.

I can't vouch for the perfect-ness of the taste matchup should you use other brands, which is why I put them down rather than using generic "lemonade" and "peach schnapps". However, it's really quite a delicious summery drink, so I heartily recommend trying it yourself. And if it tastes exactly like a pineapple Lifesaver, so much the better.