Tail Of The Cock

I do so love my new camera. And, as if on cue, thanks to the Muslim tyranny of Obamalight Savings Time™, now it’s fully light out at cocktail time! I do hope Rand Paul succeeds in his quest to have all those huge government warehouses full of extra daylight opened up. Just think how much brighter we’ll all be then!

This drink, like pretty much every drink I make, was a spontaneous concoction based on what was easy to reach. Bulleit rye, a splash of New York’s own Atsby vermouth (Amberthorn, the ostensibly dry one that’s not very dry but highly enjoyable nonetheless), rhubarb bitters, and clementine juice. Let’s say two ounces of rye, half of vermouth, two shakes of bitters, and somewhere around half an ounce of juice. I’ve been feeling the brown liquor lately, but that’s normal; I hate vodka, which is a pity, because somehow we ended up with several bottles of it. I need to start making tinctures and bitters and such with it, since it will never get used up otherwise. Bitters are a good idea, actually, because I don’t enjoy cocktails without that backbone. Acidity matters, too; I find many mixed drinks to be flabbily sweet.

The glass came from my grandfather’s collection; I finally unwrapped a box of stuff I’ve had for ages. There should be some more good cocktail shots in the near future.  My next stained glass window is going to look like a giant orange slice, I think.