It's National Applejack Month, y'all.
Weird. That's the face we make too...
Now that Tales of the Cocktail is upon us, and half of our city's best barkeeps are en route to NOLA to drink, sleep, and breathe all things mixology (lucky bastards), those of us stuck at home find we miss our favorite movers and shakers (see what we did there?) just a teensy bit.
sad, sad, thing when waves of tourists looking for a night of Boston cuisine, totter out of the Seaport
Hotel, bedecked in pastel pants and wedges, then descend upon the restaurants
directly adjacent to their lodgings. How very adventurous.
do understand the desire for ease, and agree that a bumpy cab ride into an
unfamiliar city always seems a bit risky and exhausting, it was with a heavy
heart that I watched endless variations on the same tanned, blond, bright-eyed
tourist theme walk through the revolving doors of Rosa Mexicano last Friday
Luke O'Neil is that dude you can most definitely trust to call bullshit
on just about anything: SXSW, St. Patrick's Day, anything. When it comes
to craft cocktails and bars in general, this is always what you
want--yes, a modicum of interest and general knowledge about what you're
drinking is a plus, but at the end of the day, it's all booze, so don't
be an asshole about it. Since he's got this strangely genius palate paired with an acid wit, we will absolutely follow him into the murky underworld of mixology, every time.
disclosure, my idea of a quick cocktail is either a) cracking open a bottle of
beer, which is not a cocktail, or b) taking a shot, which is also not a
cocktail. Give me a little more time, maybe put on some relaxing, lounge-y
music, leave the room, and I can definitely whip something up for you. Maybe.
it's fair to say I would have been out of my depth behind the bar at Monday
night's American Idol/Iron Chef Cocktail Competition at The Hawthorne. And--because I know some of you
read that last sentence and thought, American Idol?-- no, the bartenders did
not need to sing while they slammed together artful combinations of spirits in
shakers, and the goateed Kevin Brauch, thankfully, was not there.
I apologize in advance for plying you with yet ANOTHER "Shit [insert
niche here] Say" video, but the interwebs have kicked out a variation
that anyone who has ever worked in or around a bar will appreciate.