Thursday, 20 March 2014


Life has been…busy, but in the most excellent sort of way.  Making new friends, discovering new places and traditions.  I’m adjusting to my new home, the new ‘hood, and a new job.  Squeezing my feet into pumps and teetering around like a stilt walker is like riding a bike for me…it never quite leaves you, but you will probably hit the pavement once or twice and need a bandaid. 

Something I’m not in love with:  the wine here. 

1.        I spent a bit of euro on a lovely hand-crafted Laguiole corkscrew before I left Paris, as I am slightly obsessed with their knives.  A practical momento of sorts, as I’m still sentimental about my time there. 

2.       I have yet to use it.  Every bottle of wine I can find that is under £20 is a screw-top.  Tragic.  It seems that wine made for export to the UK Market gets a screw-top slapped on.  

3.       This aforemention wine gives me a headache instantly, without fail.  If I have more than one glass, I get insanely pissed off, dehydrated and achy.  It’s literally drinking poison.  And the impossible has happened:  I’m not ever drunk, but I identify as an angry drunk.  It's true what they say:  the French keep all the best stuff for themselves, they export the swill.  

4.       I need to find a source for non-lethal wine. 

Until I do, there is cocktails. 

One of the things I’m loving about the 9-5 is the excuse to have a cocktail as the sun is dipping below the horizon.  It just feels right in a way that I’m not quite comfortable with exploring the psychie of too deeply.   I found myself flush with bourbon recently, and after making this chicken (which was fairly delicious, you should try it), I had a big-ass bottle of pomegranate juice that needed some help to swig.  By itself, it’s bitter and puckery, but smooth it out and it’s de-lovely. 


Oh, and look what I got!  An adorable little set of bitters in a vintage travel tin.  I travel light, but I’m starting to think I need to start traveling much more stylishly. 

While I made the mistake of ordering a cocktail shaker off Amazon (along with a bottle of Scotch and some hard-to-find Cynar) and it never quite got here.  Improvising is my middle name, and making due with a measuring cup, while not as satisfying as the shake-shake-shake-shake of a glowing orb of cocktail mixing goodness, got me the approximate proportions.    

And it’s delicious, in a slightly exotic sweet-tart sort of way.  Just what you need to melt away your day into a lovely puddle of uncaring. 

The PomBourtini
(adapted from Serious Eats)

·   1/4 ounce pomegranate molasses (which is crazy cheap at the Mideast grocery store, mega expensive everywhere else)
·   1 ounce pomegranate juice
·   1 ounce freshly squeezed orange juice
·   3 ounces bourbon (or a bit more if your day is shite, but I think 3 makes for good sips)
·   Dash of Angostura bitters
·   Orange twist.  Or, if you are uncivilized, by all means, go without the garnish.

Throw the whole mess into a shaker, give it a good jostle with some ice.  Pour into a highball and garnish.  Enjoy.

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