I was looking out the window of my office and saw something pretty funny. There's some construction going on nearby and one of the workers just poured a 40 of Malt Liquor into his thermos.
He's now driving a Bobcat. I'm hoping this afternoon lives up to my expectation regarding potential hilarity.
That's not to be confused with potential Hillary. She's less entertaining and more likely to be generally mean.
So early last week I was treated to a wonderful event. I got to go to Camden Yards in Baltimore to see the New York Yankees play the Baltimore Orioles. The seats were about as good as you can get I think. It was great fun. Bear in mind I've been to less than 3 major league games and payed no attention while there. My baseball banter is weak... mostly, "hey why that'd dude do that?" and "Are they all going to talking to him after work after that screw up?".
I was clueless to the mechanics of baseball, but fortunately was clued in as the game went on.
I noted that baseball is a much more civil game than football as far as the fans go. I commented som time ago ago about how rowdy NFL fans got... especially in the potty room.
Not so much angst going on in the MLB. No one wanted to beat up Yankees fans in the toilet. How nice.
There was a Baltimore fan who was shouting "I95! I95! I95!"
At first I thought it was some crazy version of bingo.
No... was thrilled about interstate 95. Why wasn't obvious. After thinking, I figured that because I95 was the route that you'd take from Baltimore to New York, he wanted the Yankee fans to go home that route. I guess. He may have just really liked that stretch of highway.
In case anyone wonders... Baltimore still smells like butt.
I didn't know whether this should go under Alcamuhall or La$ Vega$. Clearly, both were involved.
This is me picking a fight with, and losing to, a large, headless Stalin.
I should have known better than to fight I giant communist.
It's been a while since I've had a weekend involving back to back nights of drinking. Even more rare is the fact that beer was the beverage of choice for said events.
Friday night was the scene of a sushi party... but it got started pretty late so it became a drinking party. Beers of the evening were Jack's Pumpkin Spice Ale (are you ready for Halloween?), some chinese beer in a missile of a can, and whatever Pam and I purchased at the grocery store. I think she said it was made by alcoholic monks in New Zealand or New Hampshire or something. It was good... as far as I know.
In case anyone thought I'd make a good sushi chef... my sushi rolls were quickly dubbed rice/fish burritos. How was I supposed to know that making a sushi roll the size of my forearm was a bad idea? I don't know how it tasted but, my roll was later used to defend my home against rogue, government agents.
We ended up spending the rest of the evening playing craps in the dungeon. Basically... everyone sucked at craps. Except Paul. But only when he was properly motivated. If I would "hoot" at Paul or sing him a little song, he'd make money. My hooting won me $400. I can't really explain the "hoot". If you see me in person, I'll do it for you. The consensus amongst the group was that if I did that in Las Vegas, I'd get kicked out of the casino. I certainly welcome testing that theory.... in like 6 weeks.
Saturday was dominated by the 6th Annual Wakeman's Grove Invitational Blues Jamathon. (Did I get the title right, Leo?) Once again... beer. Beer and Jello shots. Oh man. I finished off the remaining Jack's Pumpkin Spice Ale (I got yelled at for not bringing enough for everyone... actually I think my response to whether or not I brought enough for everyone was, "I brought enough for me and one person that can kick my a$$."... boy that's was spikey of me.), moved onto Sam Adams SomethingorOther and finally into Leo's Guinness. I was smart enough to wait until after Leo went on stage before I informed him that I was drinking his beer. (Thanks Leo!)
Good times. Good food, good music, good beer, good friends.
Big thanks to Leo for making the event such a hit. Big thanks to Blue for lending me a jacket (who knew it was going to be 2 degrees last night?).
Phil, time to get practicing on the bass man. We're committed to doing a set next year.
Also, can you sing? All I can do it hoot.
It's been a while since I'd seen or heard the name, "Cornball Shooter". It was a drink I invented well over a decade ago while at Kevin's parents beach house. In preparing for my upcoming trip to Seattle, Ashley has requested that there be Cornball Shooters consumed and I think that's dandy.
There exists in this world at least one copy (a large copy) of Matt, Ashley, and I in a hot tub full of bubble bath after consuming more than our fair share of said shooters. If I recall, the picture was taking right before we started pouring drinks on each other. Ah the good old days of stupid fun. I miss overflowing hot tubs with bubble bath. If I recall correctly... pouring a couple of ounces (half the bottle) of bubble bath into the jacuzzi jets seemed like a good idea at the time. I think even as it was overflowing it seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm fuzzy on trying to remember who took that photo... probably Cat or Kermit. After the picture was taken, I recall Matt saying something, "Here a$$hole!" and pouring his beer on me. And then Ashley saying something to the effect of "Don't do that to Monty!" and pouring her wine on him. And then I followed with, "Hey no one pour wine on Matt!" and poured my Zima (yeah, shut up) on her.
I then think we all said in unison, "Somebody bring us more drinks!"
That was a very, very good time.
And I'm all a flutter about seeing Matt and Ashley again.
Hey Matt, if you find a hotel with a jacuzzi that we can crash, I'll bring the bubble bath and of course the Cornball shooters.
This is going to be fun.
It was really hard to come up with a title for this posting. I'd commented several times during Saturday's festivities that "such and such" a line would have made a great blog title. Sadly, I've long since forgotten each one of them. So I just made this one up... because it probably sums up the evening/weekend's events.
Saturday was a rather fun gathering. Initially, the plans for Saturday had consisted of a very small group of people eating steaks and then going off to a strip club somewhere. [Insert Some Male Grunting Here]
Those plans changed, though, end we ended up (for the better) with a larger group of people eating steaks and then playing cards until the wee small hours of Sunday. I also believe there was some alcohol consumption.
The day started off a bit oddly. I wasn't fully prepared and hadn't set up everything I'd needed to for the poker game. I'd decided to play downstairs in the theatre... mainly because I didn't feel like lugging a poker table up the stairs. While I was setting up, I put on a movie to play in the background (Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii) and ended up fiddling with guitars instead of cleaning/setting up like I was supposed to. Then I decided to restring my bass and finally just plopped down on the couch to watch the rest of the movie. So there I sat, feet up on the poker table watching a movie. Even after the first guests arrived, I still stayed down there. I felt the need to get in character or something before heading upstairs. After the conclusion of "One of These Days" I decided I was ready to roll.
Kevin and J where the first to arrive. The fact that both of these guys made it was a huge bonus. Kevin was feeling under the weather earlier in the week and was questionable as to his attendance. J was up from the Virginia Beach area and I'd not seen him in quite some time so it was a real treat. We chatted a bit and then I put them in front of the PS3 so I could start the cooking. I needed to melt some butter and heat up the grill. I got the butter about halfway melted when the grill started losing gas pressure. After fiddling with the knobs a bit, it finally sputtered out. I was out of propane. It was actually good timing that the gas ran out then and not halfway into the preparation of the steaks. So 20 minutes before dinner time, I was disconnecting the tank and preparing to run down the street to get more gas.
BLUE arrived as I was leaving. He got a brief "hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" In the process of trying to get out the front door, we had a dog jail break. Max and Eva bolted and never looked back. Luckily they didn't go too far before finding something that smelled so yummy that they had to stop in their tracks. Phil and I then took them back to the house bodily.
The grocery store was packed and it took much longer than it should have to exchange my tank. The girl at the customer service counter also seemed to want to flirt more than get me a new tank. I didn't want to be rude, but I was in a hurry. "There's no time for hellos, good-bye! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"
But as late as I was, I did stop at the liquor store. I'd forgotten to go out and get a bottle of Frangelico and decided that since I was in the neighborhood I might as well pick up a nice bottle that was sure to be wearing a "Drink Me" tag on it later.
I arrived back home in time for the first round of shots. Phil had arrived prior to me and was serving up Patron (tequila for the uninitiated) as I walked in the door. I popped my shot and headed outside to get the grill groovy. Sometime later, Brian and Charlie arrived.
The grilled meats for the evening were awesome filet mignons, center-cut top sirloins, ahi tuna, and sesame, peanut chicken. No one actually ate the chicken but I had some the next night for dinner and they were awesome.
Dinner went very well with the exception of my over-cooking BLUE's steak (sorry!). My first foray with the ahi went very well too. I made up an on-the-fly basting for it that was basically lemon juice, soy sauce, garlic, and ginger. I made one for myself yesterday and it was the bomb-diggity. I can't post the recipe because... well... I didn't measure anything. Just mix the above together in assorted proportions until it smells like yummy and then pour it over the tuna on the grill while it sears.
Pam arrived late, but she brought Krispy Kreme donuts... so she was forgiven. We ended up goofing around out on the deck as the sun set. Topics of conversation included, but were not limited to: Las Vegas, New Orleans, strip clubs, fire extinguishers through doors, dead hookers, crotch grabs, getting tossed out of strip clubs, falling asleep in strip clubs, and dead hookers (redux). I think that there was a universal consensus that a Las Vegas trip is in our very not-too-distant future. May gawd have mercy on Sin City... because if ever there were a crew that could break that town... it was assembled on saturday.
The venue then changed to the poker room. It was time for the main event. Sorta. I was to be designated dealer for most of the evening. With the large number of (intoxicated) players it helped to keep things moving. I'd filled my flask with Grand Marnier so BLUE could have his "security blanket" and we were good to get started. We ended up filling that flask many, many times as the night went on.
Things went pretty normally for the most part. Table chatter was high, but it was all good and everyone was having fun. Eventually a hot hand was played and Charlie ended up knocking BLUE out of the game. BLUE wasn't heart broken, but he still garned sympathy from Pam who simply stated, "Charlie, you're an a$$hole."
That would be Pam's battle cry as the night went on. Everytime someone took down a large amount of chips, Pam would call that person an a$$hole. Most of the time it was Charlie.
Kevin was playing very well... especially considering that he was too drunk to even know what cards were on the table. It wasn't long before Kevin wandered off to get another drink and then later we found him unconcious on a couch. Charlie was in pain with an angry migrane and soon thereafter he retired from play to try to get some sleep. Max (my dog) at one point thought it would be funny to try to bite at Charlie to wake him up. Charlie didn't find it as funny as everyone else did.
Fast-forward a bit.
I'd stopped being the designated dealer and was finally playing cards. Phil was about as drunk as humanly possible and for some reason the conversation completely derailed. I think we were talking about me being an a$$hole (thanks Pam) and suddenly Phil says, "J's sister is seriously hot. She's got a tight a$$. It's the kind of a$$ you could bounce a quarter off of."
J found this turn in the conversation to be very, very uncomfortable. And of course... everyone decided to egg this on. Phil then went on a long diatribe about how much respect that he had for J's sister and that she would have probably have appreciated the comment. J's was of the mindset that, no, no she wouldn't. The topic was dropped at least a half dozen times, only for Phil to bring it back up again. Finally J decided to settle it by calling his sister... but he only left her voicemail.
I don't remember what BLUE said to me regarding Peter Falk and/or The Princess Bride but I just turned to him and said in a gravelly-cross-eyed voice, "As you wish" and I think he blew a ventrical. Then we all continued to laugh at the growing animousity between Phil's "respectful" comments about J's sister and J's ability to block it out. I think it was at that point that Phil asked Pam if she would consider it a compliment to have a quarter bounced off her a$$. (His phrasing). At that point BLUE and I started laughing imagining going up to random people and just bouncing quarters off their a$$es. "Hey baby! *boink* How ya like that?"
I think I slipped a disk laughing so hard.
Pam just replied, "You're all a$$holes."
And then the phone rang. J sister was calling back. I scrambled to find a speaker phone and finally we were able to get her on so we could all hear. Of course, being about 4:00am, J wisely let her know that everyone was swirly. To make a long story short (too late). She vindicated Phil and did in fact take it as a compliment. As an aside though, there was a certain, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, J" line that led me to believe that it wasn't all gravy.
Oh well.
We went upstairs to get more drinks and I found a comfortable chair and collapsed. Kevin had arisen and was ready to play more cards, but I was done. The lack of sleep from the previous week and the energy spent in hosting had drained me and I fell asleep with my boots on.
There was more to this post, but I'm cutting it short in order to get some work done today. Thanks to all who came.
Pam, the raspberry donuts were tasty, by the way!
BLUE, your new guitar is sweet.
Also, thanks to Phil for cleaning my bathroom. Only minor house damage this time... a broken toilet seat, a broken toilet paper holder (you guys were hard on my bathrooms this time!), and a broken doorframe... although I suspect that the dogs did the doorframe bit.
All in all... good fun.
So I left work feeling like poo... I spent most of the day convincing people that they didn't know how to do their jobs. The rest I spent staring at the wall with the "why me?" look.
Now that I'm home... oh happy day.
A package from my good friends at Tortuga Rums arrived unexpectedly.
Inside, Chocolate Rum Balls, and 3 Rum Cakes (Coconut, Banana, and Key Lime). Happy happy day.
I really do wish I were born in the 1600s. I'd have been the perfect pirate.
I'm almost ready to trade my world for a sloop and head back to the islands. Yo, ho baby! Yo, ho.
It is with regret that I announce the passing of a legend. Though he only lived a few short weeks, Foster Keggington is dead.
The thermostat and electronics on my kegerator suffered a meltdown and it's dead.
The remaining beer in the keg... also dead.
I'll be returning the corpse to Best Buy this week for a refund. The customer support people from the makers won't return my calls or e-mails so I'll just return it.
I really loved that thing...
At least I'll have the Holy Ale tap handle to remember it by.
Robert Stack once asked, "Do you know what it's like to fall in the mud? And get kicked in head... with an iron boot? Of course you don't, no one does. That never happens."
You're wrong Bobby. I know.
Last week was a pain in the back globes. It really was. Work was being turbulant and I was doing my best to drive myself into a mentally miserable state. By Friday morning I was feeling miserable and work wasn't helping at all. I wasn't feeling like entertaining, cooking, drinking, or anything... I was even trying to figure out how to still have the party without having to actually attend it myself. For once, insomnia actually helped me out. Had I gone to bed like a normal person, I would have woken on Saturday still feeling like pyuck. Instead, a muse kept me up until the wee smalls and I was able to get my head straight. Muses can be funny like that.
So I woke up that morning (woke up that morning)... with blue moon in my eyes... no wait... wrong show. I woke up feeling good. My head was on straight, I was happy to see old friends. I had a spring in my step and song in my head. I was a skirt and some nazis away from the hills being alive with the sound of music. All was good.
The only problem with being up until 5:00AM was that I was going to be groggy and had to run errands in a fairly short amount of time. That's ok, though... nothing could stop me... i was a man on a mission. I should have had a cape.
The first order of business was to go to Costco and pick up some meat and its bready friends. I bought a commercial grill and it wanted to grill like a mo-fo. I have no idea what mo-fos grill like, but I think it's intense. Point, where'd you go?
I hate Costco.
It's full of people.
I might be getting over my distrust and angry at the entire population of the world though. After spending time in an ER with strangers who a basically doing what they can to keep you going, I have to think that some of the masses are worth saving. Maybe in a big Ziplock bag.
So yeah Costco. Costco was full of people and the parking lot was a mad house. I was kind enough not to run over a pedestrian, so I'm growing. He had a fake leg though, so maybe that had something to do with it. It was one of those uber cyborg legs that former olympians who get their limbs caught in farm equipment have. Not like the old woodies of the past. He waved at me as I let him past. I fist, thumped my chest twice and pointed at him... "I feel your pain, man. Solidarity!"
He looked at me like I was on drugs.
I looked at him like he was on drugs.
An hour later I found parking.
Inside, I went straight to the piles of meat department. I needed big packages of hamburgers and hot dogs and all the good things you'd find at an outdoor fiesta. I found those easily enough, but the smallest package of hotdogs I could find was enough to feed Peru. But it was only $3... what a bargain! I want to get a few cool items... like chocken (say it like I spelled it yo) and some ribs. Ribs weren't cheap and so I bought just enough for each guest to get one rib. I figured if anyone complained, I'd tell them it was a tribute to the bygone days of Chris Rock being funny.
I also figured I'd do up some peppers and onions for the sausages, but I wimped out. I couldn't justify buying onions by the gross metric ton. I don't even know what a gross metric ton is, but I'm sure that I don't need that much onion. I did get some fresh (as far as I knew) corn for grilling.
It was here that I ran into problems. It was senior citizens day at the free samplers and they'd created a wall of carts and human debris that was blocking me from my exit. I went left around to the bakery to get out there, but alas it was free cookie day for children with bad skin. Millions of them. They swarmed over the poor woman from Keebler and dragged her down. She handed me a note and said, "Give this to my kids... tell my husband I love him."
And then she was gone under the mass of the dirty pants gnomes.
I didn't know who her husband was so I just balled up the note and went on my way.
About this time, some carnival barker of a man began preaching the new religion of making your own juices from the comfort of your own kitchen. This caused a power rift as the seniors began to congregate around the man with the stylish Madonna microphone. The pigs in a blanket guy and his friend at the crab bucket had had enough of Mr Microphone stealing their customers and staged a coup. It was just the distraction I needed.
When the crab guy started strangling Johnny Juicesalesman with his beard net, I made my move. I rammed my cart through the mob who were all watching the scrum. I hit a cart that had a toddler in it and he hit me across the face with a 4 foot pepperoni stick. Right across the bridge of the nose. No time for pain though. Had to keep moving towards the front. Bobbing. Weaving. Pepperonied.
A fat lady jumped out at my from behind a large box and asked me if I want to try some dry cereal or bulky underpants. I ignored her, but she persisted, chasing me. She was fast for a woman her size. I pushed the cart as fast as I could and then stood up on the back rail, coasting on the momentum. It turned to see the fat woman chasing me, flinging dry cereal and bulky underpants left, right, left. I leaned back, holding the cart with one hand and with the other fired a can of shaving cream at her in true Mad Max fashion. She went down... and made a big noise.
I arrived at the front check out... long lines of people... all puzzled about why I was firing shaving cream into the air, yelling "Attica! Attica!". I also then remember that I might not actually have any cash to pay for all of my loot. I got lucky, my debit card got me through. Fleeing as fast as I could after check out I again sailed my cart towards the open door... suddenly a person in red smock veered towards me with a sharpie and an open hand.
"Receipt please."
"Receive this!" I shouted and gave her a mouth full of frothy Gillette shaving goodness.
I collapsed with my purchases at the trunk of my car.
No one from Costco was chasing me. Phew.
My shaving cream can was empty. There'd be no shaving that day. I'd also lost a 50 pound bag of M&Ms and a box of 12 inch tooth picks. I bowed my head. Too many losses.
Damn you Costco. Damn you to bulk shopper hell.
Next... the actual party
I just finished a nice write up about the great weekend I just had. Instead of posting it, however, the web site dumped it so it's gone now.
I'll write something up again tomorrow... it'd be a crime not to.
I can't muster the cycles now, though.
I can't do this one justice.
Monty Python and the Holy Ale.
Just beer you say? Nay, nay! This is my complete beer dispensing tool of wonderment.
This is an actual photo of my keg/tap. It keep the beer cold and carbonated. Currently there's a 1/2 keg of Foster's Lager in there. It's a good summer time beer that won't anger people. The blue light on the thermostat display calls to me in the night.
Also pictured is a pint of said Fosters and a Holy Grail Ale beer tasting Grail.
This past spring was a whirlwind straight into summer and now that summer is coming to an end, it looks like the fall will be moving at the same pace.
We started the spring with quite a few weddings, and the associated showers, parties, etc. Scheduling got pretty crazy and we ended up booking up months ahead of time to do anything. It's slowed down a bit over the past few weeks. I mentioned to my wife that we've either been out of town or entertained people every weekend since early April.
Last night, the wife and I sat down and started working on the Fall calendar. We're now pretty much booked up until mid-October. It's really kind of a pain in the butt to have to tell people all the time that you're not accepting appointments for 6-8 weeks. Sadly, I've found it's the only way we can get everything done we need to get done and see any friends.
In setting up the calendar, I noticed that Halloween, once again, comes at the end of October. Or Shocktober if you're a DJ on crappy radio.
I'm pondering whether or not to have another Halloween party this year. I swore last year that I absolutely wouldn't after the debacle that year's party was... but now I'm thinking about it. I'm leaning towards it, but the wife is strongly against it. We'll see. The plan may be to put all efforts into Halloween night events for the trick or treaters.
We'll see.
My favorite thing about the beach is drinking outside. After visiting the Caribbean a couple of times, I don't like drinking rum drinks on American beaches. It seems like the wrong venue now. I still have a strong passion for the old kill devil, but it's not an East Coast beverage for me anymore. I went with beer.
I'd mentioned that I was getting back into beer again. I love me some Corona and the obligatory lime. It's a bit tough to take on the beach though... firstly because it's hard to keep sand out of the lime and also the beach patrols frown on glass bottles on the beach. Having stepped on a bottle cap before, I was very careful.
I had plans to read some fancy books and do some writing, but I did little of the former and none of the latter. I reread a couple of old college text books that drew my attention... The History of World War II and Political Philosophy.
I spent most of my time outside swimming in the ocean. I swam at least two hours a day, usually an hour in the morning and an hour in the afternoon. One afternoon I was feeling particularly aquatic and swam for four hours, coming out of the water twice... once to quickly chug a beer and once more to check out a jellyfish sting on my ankle.
The knee held up rather will in the ocean surf. I was able to squat and jump over waves with no real pain. The only issues I had were when leaving the ocean and walking through the surf, if a wave hit me in thigh deep water, the force would usually hit the back of my knee full force. Once it took me off my feet completely, but I was being cautious not to plant my feet in the sand so as not to wrench it.
I've already had several people comment on my lack of sun... I don't tan. It doesn't happen. I'll burn... quite readily. I go from pale to normal color. I have to show people the underside of my arm to prove it. My shoulders did get a tan, oddly. They also got three days of sunburn first.
Apparently, SPC 30 is not "kid climbing on your shoulders" proof.
More on that another time.
Something strange is happening...
I'm drinking more beer than I used to.
I used to be a big fan of beer. I used to make my own. But then I wandered off in to the liquor forest and left beer behind. For some reason I considered beer clumsy and unsophisticated. Beer was for NASCAR dads.
But I've been drinking it again.
Mostly because people keep bringing it over to my house and leaving it. To free up fridge space, I've been drinking them. Luckily my friends have good taste and bring over butt beer.
But I've found myself renewing my interest in beer. I like very much the easy of use. Mixing drinks is a pain so a pop top beer solution is great. I enjoy mixing drinks, but it's become tedious.
It's very strange.
I don't think I've traded my Bacardi for Bass, but beer is now in the regular rotation again.
And I'll probably start brewing again.
So that's kinda cool.
So this past weekend I went to a Wine Festival. I've never been to one before and am not much of a wine person at all. It all seems very snooty.
But it was free and we thought it'd be a fun change of pace.
The first few hours of the tastings were just about as snobby as I'd expected. After a while, though, people were getting drunk and stupid. Very much like a normal drinking crowd. I pretty much came to realize that wine snobs are basically the same people who'd get stupid drunk in college, but now have fancier jobs and still want to impress each other but hide behind a psuedo-sophistication of wine snobbery. In the end... the wine divas, the beer swillers, and rum runners are aiming for the same bullseye.
My sister is a wine snob. She's as learned about wines as I am about... nothing. She knows more about wines than I could ever know about anything else. Her husband is equally learned, but more relaxed. I asked what wines I should try, etc, and his thoughts were to try them all, screw the swirling, smelling, spitting and get a happy buzz going. Easy enough. By the way if you call a professional wine steward a Somalian instead of a Sommelier (fancy French term for pro-wine snob) they get angry. If they politely try to correct you, you can further aggrivate them by saying, "Whatever Pedro. Hit it again." and wave an empty glass in their direction.
Me in a wine tasting festival is very much like the Blues Brothers in the fancy restaurant... "How much for the little girl? How much for your women? We want to buy your women!"
I did find a winery that stood out from all the rest. It was staffed by hippees and their labels had satan on them. Before you say "run from the hippees" I should point out that most wine makers are just hippees with better hair and denim shirts.
The vinyard was Peaks of Otter Winery and all of their wines were yummy. They were all kind of gimmicky... but of all the wines I drank... theirs are the only ones I can remember/distinguish. There are two of note that I purchased and will review.
First, "Kiss the Devil"
This wine was presented to me as "better for basting than for tasting". I tried it anyway. It was africa hot. Super spicy wine. Basically it's a pepper wine made from an apple wine infused with about 30 different peppers. It was insane and undrinkable beyond the smallest sip... but I bet it goes great in a pasta sauce or brushed on a grilled chicken breast. Purchased.
Second... "Chili Dawg". This was presented to me by a hippee with a can of cheez whiz. Gross. I asked for the wine, spare the cheese. Regular cheese grosses me out... engineered spray cheese is of the devil. He told people to eat the spray cheese and then sip the wine. Instant pepperjack spray cheez. Apparently, it worked as advertised. I tried it sans cheese and founf that it was spicy but drinkable and would be a perfect wine to go with real cheese, crackers, salami or pepperoni, etc. Yum yum. It was a blend of %3 Kiss the Devil and 97% sweet apple wine. Really, really good. Purchased.
I tried all of the wines they had and all of them were great. I'll probably buy more off their web page.
I bought some other wines too, but I don't remember them so after I drink them I'll write whether they were any good.
I also bought an oak cask to age some spirits in.
I think I see some aged rum in my future. My 2007 future to be exact.
I think I'm the last of the margarita purists.
I was tinkering around with some recipes for tasty margaritas. For whatever reason I was determined to make a good mango margarita. I tried a couple of recipes. I tried using a new Cruzan Mango Rum instead of orange liquor. I tried using a bit of mango nectar instead of some lime juice. I tried a fresh made mango puree. I didn't get anything that I was tickled about, but I think with a few more tweeks I'll have it.
But I was prepping the recipe was a party I was going to. Because the recipe wasn't air tight, I decided I wasn't going to make any at the party... I'd just go with my basic margarita.
My margarita recipe varies depending on the weather (seriously). It's pretty simple. This part doesn't change:
2 Parts Tequila
1 Part Lime Juice (not Rose's or sweetened)
1 Part Orange Liquor
The recipe changes with the tequila and orange liquor. With the measures I use and lack of syrup, a good tequila is helpful here. Patron is the usual, but it doesn't have to be. It'll usually be whatever I have a lot of laying around. This weekend it was Patron.
The orange liquor is where most fights start. You've really got 3 choices... Triple Sec, Cointreau, and Grand Marnier.
If it's cold out... I like Grand Marnier. It's high proof makes the drink warmer and it doesn't mellow the tequila much, so it's a bit less smooth to drink. In cold weather, I like those characteristics. In warmer weather I like a lighter margarita. Cointreau is pretty good if you're a snob, but honestly... cheap-o Triple Sec works fine too. All you're really doing is mellowing the tequila. You're not making an orange-rita.
So the recipe for the party was going to be Patron, Lime Juice, and Cointreau. I didn't have any Triple Sec.
Nobody but me likes my recipe... which by the way, is THE traditional recipe for a margarita.
I don't freeze it or salt it.
When I was at the party and someone asked for margarita mix I winced. My drink became "Tequila & Lime" according to the crowd.
Oh well. I didn't push the traditional margarita on anyone else. If you're used to a syrup-filled fish bowl glass from Carlos O'Kelly's you're probably not going to like my drink.
I guess that's what people like now. Pyucky.
Oh well... I drank me a ton of Patron with limejuice.