10 drinks you must have once in your life(and when and where you should have them)
Sometimes it is not all about food. Sometimes it’s that glass and what’s in it that steals the show. “What’s your poison?” goes the old adage. What we order in a bar, what we sip at a cocktail, what we guzzle to forget or shoot to let go … it all says something so personal about that particular moment in our lives.
Ah, alcohol … the old angel and devil himself. It has been the source of both despair and merriment since ancient civilization. There is a universal appeal in the acceptably forbidden, walking the joyous fine line between sobriety and intoxication. Like everything else there is good stuff and bad stuff … and the stuff you would use to unclog your toilet bowl. An amateur will have his favorites and a fine epicure will appreciate all. Just like every birthday has its cake and every Thanksgiving has its turkey, there are those precious moments when nothing else but the right cocktail, the perfect glass of wine or the right shot of tequila will do.
1. Beer in a London pub at 6 p.m. My mother wrongfully taught me that ladies do not drink beer. Thank heavens I unlearned this early on when my very first boyfriend taught me how to appreciate good old San Miguel back in high school. While I’ve always enjoyed an icy bottle or two, I only realized beer’s full potential the summer I spent in London. I’d get off class and head to the campus pub. Yes. There were two pubs on the campus of the London School of Economics. Students rubbed elbows with teachers as we downed pints of extra cold Carlsberg on tap. Boy, that stuff was good. Tiny fine bubbles, so cold the creamy head was almost frozen, the brain freeze about to kick in but not quite. Nothing tasted as good as a blizzard-ly draught beer after a long day of lectures. You’d look around the room and know that just about everybody — yes, everybody — was thinking the same, exact thing.
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2. Champagne the day after New Year’s. Oh, yes, you must have had a rough night. Who knows how many cocktails you had, whom you kissed at midnight, where your hat went and why you are wearing two different shoes? Save a bottle of champagne, some strawberries and fresh orange juice in the fridge. Pop that cork open, the sheer sound of it will bring joy to your heart and make your hangover kinder. Stick your nose in, feel the soft bubbles tickle as you have a nice, languid sip. It’s the perfect Happy New Year to yourself. And for the lucky in love out there, no better way to start a new year than with a kiss tasting of champagne-soaked strawberries.
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3. Rum on a balmy beach. The quintessential beach-bum beverage, lime or no lime, a splash of cola, rum preferably dark, even better Tanduay longneck. Oh, yes, that iconic bottle and strangely orange-colored liquid. Your hair is sticky from the salty wind, the waves are crashing against the shore or softly lapping at the boat, the sky is bright, the stars are out and the stakes are high with the card game on the table. The rum slowly but surely creeps into your system, a discreet fellow … puts you at ease, happy even with your losses. No wonder the pirates loved the stuff so much.
4. Banderitas at a Mexican wedding. Tequila was definitely made for a party. Oh, yes, but not to get plastered in club. Most of the time Mexicans savor the stuff like fine whiskey, but if they want to get things rowdy they start bringing out the Banderitas. Literally meaning little flags, three shots representing the colors of the Mexican flag are lined up: greenish lime juice, white tequila and red sangrita — the best invention since sliced bread. This concoction of tomatoes chilies, limes … you’ll be dancing the cucaracha in no time! Last Mexican wedding I went to, I ended up with a purple wig on my head, two maracas in my hands and shoeless in the fountain.
5. Cognac or a fine single-malt whiskey in a swanky hotel bar. I love the romance in a good hotel bar. Lonely souls, passing strangers, celebrating businessmen, cuddly lovers — so many stories to tell. One of the most beautiful places I’ve been to is the bar of Almaschlosshotel in Berlin. Plush velvet sofas, heady woodwork, mysterious paintings and a well-curated selection of Cognac and whiskey. It’s the perfect way to end a night. Contemplating its age, the history locked away in the amber elixir, the fragrant notes that go straight to your soul. Perhaps you’ll smoke a cigar, there may even be some jazz … it’s a beautiful moment.
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6. Limoncello in Capri. Few are the places as beautiful and romantic as Capri. The stony cliffs that plummet dramatically into the sparkling azure sea, the ridges that are lined with bright yellow lemon trees, luxurious villas mingle with quaint villages hidden in secluded coves. Eat in a small fisherman’s tavern and you’ll be certain that after your meal of fresh scampi and fritto misto, the friendly server, probably the owner’s son, will bring you a bottle of homemade limoncello straight from the freezer, still bearing its velvety ice coat. Homemade limoncello is a real treat. Citrusy like no other, syrupy-sweet and just the right amount of kick to get your cheeks flushed. A true taste of the Mediterranean.
7. Rosé in St Tropez. Ah, this sleepy fishing town made famous by luscious sex kitten Brigitte Bardot prancing about in sailor stripes and tousled blond hair. Look past the jet set and flashy boats parked for pure exhibitionism. Rent a scooter, grab a picnic basket full of saucisse, fromage and baguette and stop by one of the numerous vineyards along the picturesque roads that hug the rolling hills. Beyond the Byblos and Cristal Champagne sprayers lies a quaint world of beautiful Provençal villas and the palest salmon-tinted pink rosé wine you can find. Drunk cold by the sea or under a eucalyptus tree, its treacherous heaven glass by glass as it goes down so easily and the day slowly becomes night with only the sound of crickets to warn you.
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8. A mojito in Havana. Following the recommendations of the taxi driver we were dropped off in a rundown part of town. It would have been rather frightening if it weren’t for the beautiful acoustic music floating in the air. No street lamps, dirty pavements, the Casa de la Trova was burrowed into a semi-abandoned building. No tourists, only locals of the quarter. There were children in tattered clothing and the old lady they called La Chinita for her almond-shaped eyes. The mojitos were on the house. Made not with mint but with yerba buena, muscovado sugar, a twist of real lime and good old homegrown Cuban rum. Muddled by hand and served in a plastic cup, accompanied by the most precious voice and soulful Afro-Cuban beats from a lone guitar. It’s a far cry from Bodeguita del Medio, where mojitos are spewed out by the dozen, given to the droves of tourists looking for their Hemingway moment. This was as close to real Cuba as you could get and the mojito was simply ethereal.
9. A good, old-fashioned cocktail in an old-school cocktail bar. It doesn’t matter where you are — New York, London, Paris, Chicago, Hong Kong, Tokyo — but it has to be dark, it has to feel old. The guys behind the counter must be chilling your martini glasses, slapping the mint, making their own syrups and your whiskey sour must be frothy with egg whites. Have a Manhattan in Manhattan, a Negroni to feel like old Bogey or even a mint julep to feel like Scarlett O’Hara. Whatever you order should be played out like a scratchy old black-and-white movie. Don’t even ask for a Cosmo lest you be thrown out in the cold … these guys take their drinks seriously, and you should, too. It’s the alcoholic equivalent of a topnotch sushi bar, where you give yourself up and say, “Omakase.”
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10. Red wine in La Palette, Saint Germain, in Paris. It was the first café/bar I ever went to when I first arrived fresh off the boat and so inappropriately dressed. A few years later, fitting right in with my black cashmere turtleneck sweater, torn jeans and scuffed up red Converse sneakers, we were guzzling red wine and debating politics, religion and philosophy in the corner of this authentically old, Left Bank café. No background music, servers are the perfect combination of efficient and gruff. The paint is peeling off the walls and the red leather of the banquette is cracking like lizard’s skin. It was a rather chilly autumn evening, we had no dinner, only red wine and a few plates of Poilane bread topped with jambon fume and Emmenthal. How much more Parisian can you get? Sartre would have been proud.