Ain't Life Grand?

Don't kill the messenger, Jeffrey. They made me do it.

Tales of the Cocktail: Words and Pictures

“Pathetic earthlings. Hurling your bodies out into the void, without the slightest inkling of who or what is out here. If you had known anything about the true nature of the universe, anything at all, you would've hidden from it in terror.”

- Ming the Merciless


This was my first time visiting New Orleans and attending Tales of the Cocktail, so I was excited at the prospect of a nearly week-long double whammy of booze and culture. Being someone who likes playing with both words and pictures, I had visions of doing some grandiose Hunter S. Thompson/Anthony Bourdain-style travelogue, replete with profound insights into the human condition and comprehensively documented in a lush, day-to-day journal format.

It became apparent sometime around day 4 that this was not going to happen.

You see, up until then, I had been taking tons of notes, trying to make as many drawings as time would allow, and even snapping a handful of photos. But there’s just so Goddamn much to see and do down there, it all just got away from me. I realized that there was no way I could effectively record all the things I experienced and subsequently package it all up for consumption. I’m only one man.

So what follows is simply a collection of impressions…nuggets of info that somehow made it back home stored either in my notebook or in my head. I hope that collectively they’ll give a glimpse into what transpired over 6 days or so at a cocktail convention in New Orleans. If you were there, some of this may look and sound familiar. If you weren’t there, I bear no responsibility for anything you see here encouraging or deterring you from attending next year.

~~~~~Random Observations~~~~~

~ I’m really trying hard not to stereotype all businessmen who travel by plane as attention-starved, self-important jackasses, but it’s really difficult not to do so when every flight contains at least one guy who is compelled to initiate a loud cell phone conversation the second the wheels hit the ground. And it’s bonus fun whenever one of these fine specimens spends the entire flight hyperactively fiddling with his laptop, Blackberry, phone, and pocket calculator in rapid succession. Next to me.

(To the guy on the flight from Charlotte to New Orleans: Well done sir- I’m sure your boss is grooming you for upper management as a result of your dedication and diligence. Thanks for jabbing me with your elbow for almost an hour straight. Now I know why they serve booze on planes).

~ The shuttle from the airport to the French Quarter is a convenient, inexpensive way to get where you’re going, but it isn’t particularly speedy, nor does it seem to follow any discernible logic with regard to route. Once your van/bus arrives in the Quarter, you are treated to a seemingly aimless tour of all the hotels in this legendary neighborhood, in no specific order. You will travel up and down the same streets over and over (albeit in different directions) until your hotel presumably appears.

You know how in action movies there’s often a car chase through a third-world street bazaar knocking over fruit stands and squeezing through alleyways not intended for cars? It’s like that, except at half-speed.

~ I’m still trying to figure out what method the baggage handlers used to smash my steel wristwatch into eight pieces. I’m impressed, but this is why I never spend more than 40 bucks for a watch.

~ Whoever came up with the concept of a slowly rotating bar is a mad genius. It’s a great way to meet people, but sustaining conversations proves more difficult if one party is moving and the other is not.

Spinning at the Carousel Bar

~ If you remain in the Carousel Bar long enough, you will eventually see every single person attending Tales of the Cocktail.

~ Boozebloggers must have something akin to a bat-signal. On the first night, after an hour or so in the Carousel Bar, almost every other blogger in attendance showed up within 15 minutes of each other. (But I should note that I was well into my 2nd Martini at this point, so my perceptions may have been less than accurate). Spontaneous assemblies of this sort repeated themselves throughout the event. I need to look into this phenomenon.

~ As has been noted elsewhere, boozebloggers, (particularly those with tiki leanings) favor island-style shirts, brimmed hats made of organic materials, and facial hair. I don’t know if there is any connection between this look and a predilection to open marriage, but at least one person in the elevator at the Hotel Monteleone wondered aloud if we were part of a swinger’s convention that was rumored to be in town at the same time.

~ It’s nice to see Maraschino liqueur behind a bar.

~ If you find yourself in the company of several boozebloggers lurching through the kaleidoscopic blur of the French Quarter at night, realize that you will be likely be stopping at Pat O’Brien’s for hurricanes, even though no one particularly wants to (I still haven’t figured out exactly how this happened).

And despite all participants swearing a blood oath to never reveal that we went Pat O’Brien’s for Hurricanes, photographic evidence immediately appeared on several websites (I still haven’t figured that out either. Apparently a man’s word means nothing these days).

~ At any gathering where three or more people are drinking, Jagermeister will inevitably appear.

~ Late-night “invitation-only “ parties can be fun, but more so for the secrecy that surrounds them than for the actual social interaction that occurs once you gain admittance. Also, you will see people at these parties that you will never see before or after. It’s as if they’ve been teleported in just for that specific occasion. You could set up an “invitation-only” party in the heart of the Amazon rainforest and instantly 2 dozen women with fake breasts and their varnish-headed boyfriends will materialize from somewhere.

Also, these parties will cause hotel security to be called multiple times. Plan accordingly.

~ Despite the South having a reputation for doing everything at a slower pace than the rest of the world, they apparently suspend this approach during Tales of the Cocktail. Everything seemed to be moving much faster than I was…even when I was sober.

It’s not unlike the video for the Ramones’ “I Wanna be Sedated”.

~ I normally avoid coffee, but drinking a cup while taking your morning shower has a definite rejuvenating effect and is a time-saver to boot.

Coffee in the shower Wednesday morning

~ There seems to be no limit to the money that corporate sponsors are willing to spend to get you to drink their hooch. I won’t name any specific brands, but there were some serious dog-and-pony shows that could have been set aside in favor of more effective smaller, targeted promotional efforts. Flashy can be fun, but when people are leaving your event less than an hour after it begins because it’s an assault on the senses, you may want to rethink your strategy.

~ One of the defining moments of the trip was witnessing someone during a Tales event gleefully telling the person he was on the phone with how drunk he was. I am 99% sure this person was not actually a Tales attendee. Oh well…share the wealth, I say.

~ It’s a lot of fun watching someone from the UK trying to pronounce “Tchoupitoulas”. Hell, I’m from here and I can’t pronounce it.

~ Whoever was in charge of keeping bottled water in good supply throughout the event deserves a medal.

~ Speaking of water, I drank far, far, more water and caffeine than I did alcohol. No one believes me though.

~ The blogger reception was a great opportunity to meet all my online pen-pals. It’s nice when people who compulsively document their drinking habits publicly have a chance to get together and compare notes.

~ Absinthe/pastis and Peychaud’s bitters are flavors I don’t need to taste for a long, long time. I think they put Peychaud’s in the O.J. at the breakfast buffet for Christ’s sake.

~ I awoke one morning at 5:12 and was unable to go back to sleep. I don’t know who or what to blame this on, but it did allow me to witness a guy slowly riding a bicycle on the street below in the pre-dawn haze. That guy probably has a story.

~ Kudos to whoever’s idea it was to place a fully-stocked Red Bull fridge in the media room. But there was something ironic about being at arguably the biggest drinking event on the planet and no opener being available for the bottled beverages.

~ If you want the closest thing to solitude outside of locking yourself in your room, hang out in the lobby of the Hotel Monteleone from 7-9 a.m. during Tales of the Cocktail.

At 7 a.m. the Lobby of the Hotel Monteleone is a ghost town (But even the ghosts are drinking)

~ I was fortunate enough to meet several luminaries in the cocktail community, and with only one exception, I met all of them simply while hanging around or walking from event to event. If there’s someone you really want to meet, I’d say you’ve got better odds of running into them waiting for an elevator than you do trying to plow through a crowd of admirers at an appearance. But maybe I just had good luck.

~ I didn’t particularly want to do a full-tilt Bourbon tasting at 10:30 a.m., but I somehow struggled through it.

~ The “Cocktail Hour” was far longer than an hour. It also featured the biggest crowd of drunks I’ve ever seen crammed into one small area without a fistfight, public displays of affection, or vomiting occur. It was a swirling, crazed mass of drink enthusiasts, and hats off to all of them for keeping it classy (as far as I could tell).

~ The “Juniperlooza” event was a gin-lover’s dream, and offered what was to become the most sought-after piece of swag. I saw a miniature black market spring up later that day with people selling those bartender’s toolkits in exchange for cash, event tickets, and sexual favors*.

Just a few samples at the Juniperlooza event

~ One of the best quotes of the week was from Kaiser Penguin's Rick Stutz: “It’s not a guilty pleasure to like the Smiths. It is if you like LaBouche.”

~ Even at 9 in the morning, New Orleans can get pretty freaking hot.

~ The Hotel Monteleone has a really great rooftop pool & bar, but I somehow never managed to get to it. This was a gross oversight, especially considering I’m usually dressed like I’m going to the pool even when there isn’t one nearby. I won’t let it happen again next year.

~ An interesting social experiment: See how long it takes a hotel full of booze nerds to start grousing about elevators that are too few in number and too slow. I think I actually saw someone handing out torches and pitchforks to a mob headed for the management offices.

~ Awards shows are good fun. More so when all the categories are booze-centric.

Searching for a place to eat breakfast Friday morning

~ If you find yourself among a group of people in someone’s hotel room and there is a large collection of opened bottles of alcohol lying around, a good time will likely ensue. If one of the people you are with is a skilled bartender who offers to spontaneously make up drinks using this motley assortment of liquor, take her up on it….you’ll get something pretty tasty.

~ I’m going to do my damnedest to be there again next year. Who’s with me?

* This is not true, but people were really clamoring for them.

Raspberry-Thyme Smash -or- The Case of the Curiously Oversized Muddler

For well over a year I’ve been ripping drink recipes out of magazines and collecting them in an overstuffed 3-ring binder. This must indicate I’m an optimist at heart, because at this point I’ve got way more recipes stashed than I’ll likely ever get around to making. But occasionally I pull one out, round up the requisite ingredients, and have at it.

Like a lucky game show contestant being yanked from the audience, the Raspberry-Thyme Smash was plucked out of the pile and put through its paces. It was featured in the July ‘08 issue of Bon Appetit, and looked like a promising candidate for both a great Summer beverage and a way to convince myself I’m pursuing a healthy lifestyle (It contains fruit).

Raspberry-Thyme Smash

2 fresh thyme sprigs, divided
7 fresh raspberries, divided
2 1/4 oz. gin (Hendrick's is suggested)
1 oz. simple syrup
1 oz. fresh lime juice

Remove leaves from 1 thyme sprig. Place leaves in cocktail shaker with 6 raspberries and muddle. Fill shaker with ice and add gin, simple syrup, and lime juice. Shake vigorously and strain into ice-filled highball glass. granish with raspberry threaded onto thyme sprig.

Served at the BLT Market in New York

What I didn’t realize was that this drink had a secret ingredient: A giant muddler. Actually, I should state up front that I’m pretty certain what I have is not a muddler. I speculate that it is probably some kind of antique potato masher, but it pretty much resembles a muddler (assuming your bartender is a Norse god).

This gargantuan item, like much of my barware, came courtesy of my father who ran across it at a flea market. Upon presenting me with it, he claimed that neither he nor the seller knew what it was, but since it looked vaguely like a muddler (albeit of outsized proportions), he decided to pick it up for me.

Basically, it’s a 15-inch long cylinder of hardwood that flares at one end to a diameter of almost 2 inches. It weighs approximately a pound, and is completely devoid of any decoration or inscription that would give a clue as to its origins or purpose. Ever see those belaying pins that pirates are always clobbering each other with in the movies? It’s kinda like that.

But the important thing is that it muddles. It really freakin’ muddles. But it’s not so big that it doesn’t have room to maneuver in my mixing tin, and it’s considerable length keeps me from banging my knuckles against the rim. There’s also enough handle available to grip it in a variety of ways, so as far as I’m concerned, this thing is my new muddler.

But every time I pick it up* I feel compelled to bellow a plea to some pagan spirit and tear my shirt off (I make all drinks in the privacy of my own home, so mercifully no one will have to witness this awful spectacle).

So I take it as some sort of cosmic coincidence that the Muddler of the Gods™ showed up right around the time I found the Raspberry-Thyme Smash. The drink is wonderful, and everything a refreshing Summertime sipper should be. It is supremely balanced, and flavor-wise all the ingredients meld perfectly. So get some fresh raspberries while they’re still in season and try this one out!

And remember- when muddling, use your legs, not your back. And have a friend help you if necessary.



*something I was initially unable to do, until I began a rigorous weight-training regimen.

Fruit Cup

I’m embarrassed it’s taken me this long to make a drinking vessel out of a pineapple.

It really should have happened long before now. I’ve been fiddling with tiki-style drinks for well over a year, and I regularly buy whole pineapples, so it’s not like I don’t have them lying around. I’ve also attended at least a dozen Jimmy Buffett concerts, where unorthodox beverage containers abound (lawn flamingos, beer mugs made of a single piece of ice, etc.), so I really should have gotten on the stick by now.

After noticing one of the recipes in Jeff Berry’s Sippin’ Safari could be served in a pineapple, I decided to finally take the plunge. The first step was determining if there was a tried-and-true technique for transforming a large piece of fruit into a fun and functional drink container.

Turns out there isn’t one. Or more accurately, I couldn’t find one. The first thing I did was to contact some of the big brains in the booze nerd community and see what they do. I was surprised to find that most of the people I spoke to hadn’t yet attempted it, and the responses from those who had essentially boiled down to “Cut the top off, and scoop out the insides.”

I also did a little poking around on the web, but that was slim pickings too. There’s a promising-looking gadget designed specifically for taking the guts out of a pineapple, but the reviews were mixed. It appeared that I was headed for trial-and-error territory.

Now I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to make things more complicated than they need to be, so I stuck close to the “cut off the top and scoop out the insides” method . I’ve made many jack-o-lanterns over the years, so my reasoning was that this would probably be pretty much the same, albeit on a smaller scale and with contents you’d actually want to eat.

I discovered that things shook out to be basically a three-step process:



1) Slice off the top. I cut horizontally about 1.5 to 2 inches below the leaves. If you want a wider, shorter cup, just make your cut farther down. I used my trusty Chinese vegetable knife, but feel free to use the cutting tool of your choice (machete, katana, chainsaw, etc.)



2) Outline a cavity. Run a small knife (I found a grapefruit knife works well) in a circular path near the outside of the pineapple. I recommend you don’t make this cut right up against the rind. Leave at least a half-inch of “meat.”- It’ll add strength to the cup once it’s hollowed out.

Also, this is the step when you’ll discover pineapples are surprisingly soft. Despite their rough exterior, they’re very easy to puncture. I immediately put a hole in mine even though I was trying to be as gentle and deliberate as I could.



3) Shovel out the insides. I used a stainless steel salad spoon, but any rigid, scoop-like implement without sharp edges or corners will probably do the trick. The core in the center will give you the most resistance, but you can use your small knife from step 2 to carefully carve out any stubborn bits.

Like step 2, there’s a bit of guesswork involved here. Just make sure you don’t scoop too deep or too close to the sides, otherwise you‘ll be creating an organic dribble glass.


Optional step: If you want to keep the top to use as a lid, just cut a small notch in the edge for a straw and replace it. You can fasten it to the bottom with a toothpick or cocktail umbrella.




As for the drink itself, I went with the Pina Paradise, from the aforementioned Sippin’ Safari.

Pina Paradise

½ oz. Fresh lime juice
½ oz. Grapefruit juice
½ oz. Orange juice
1/4 oz. Sugar syrup
¾ oz. Gold Puerto Rican rum (I substituted Cruzan)
¾ oz. Martinique rum (I used St. James Royal Ambre)
2 one-inch-square chucks of fresh pineapple
Dash Angostura bitters
6 drops (1/8 teaspoon) almond extract

Place in a blender, without ice, and blend at high speed until pineapple is liquefied. Pour into a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice cubes. Shake well, then pour into a hollowed-out pineapple or tiki mug.



It’s not bad. The rums come through pretty well (especially the Martinique) despite the number of other ingredients. The grapefruit, orange, pineapple and lime do well as a fruit base, and the almond extract is a nice touch- Although I may have to make this again and see what happens if I substitute orgeat.

Overall, it’s a tasty but not particularly remarkable drink. I found it a bit flat, but the Bamboo Babe loved it, so I’ll keep it in the rotation. But in the future, when I’m making another pineapple cup, I’ll likely opt to fill it with a Painkiller or something with a bit more oomph.



To wrap up, here’s a breakdown of my pros & cons for drinking out of a pineapple:

Cons:

Expense. Where I live, whole pineapples run between 4-5 bucks apiece. That can easily be a prohibitive cost depending on how many people you’re serving.

Labor. The time you spend making the cup detracts from time you can be drinking.

Flavor Factor. Whatever drink you put in the cup will be flavored with pineapple to some degree.

Weight. Even a hollowed-out pineapple can get a little heavy and unwieldy after a while.


Pros:

No-Slip Grip. The rind of a pineapple is a natural high-friction surface. If you drop it, it’s not the pineapple’s fault- you probably should have stopped two drinks ago.

Environmentally Friendly. Pineapples are biodegradeable, so when you’re done, compost it, chuck it in the woods, or simply drop it through the sunroof of your snooty neighbor’s Mercedes.

Edible. You can eat what you’ve hollowed out.

Style Factor. I mean, you’re drinking out of a pineapple…how cool is that?


So give it a shot- It’s not as tough as it might look, and it’s a heck of a lot of fun. And as always, tips, advice, cautionary tales, etc., are welcome.

Capetown Collins

Capetown Collins

2 oz. Gin (Any straightforward London dry should do the trick)
½ oz. Fresh lemon juice
2 oz. Rooibos-rosemary syrup

Place all ingredients in cocktail shaker with ice. Shake well, and strain into ice cube-filled Collins glass. Garnish with rosemary sprig.


Rooibos-rosemary syrup

Simmer one cup water, sugar, and a rosemary sprig in a medium saucepan, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Add 1½ teaspoons loose rooibos tea leaves and let steep for 1 hour. Strain through fine mesh strainer and bottle it.



Contrary to what many believe, not all my time, money and energy goes into playing with booze. I sometimes play with food too. Noting this, generous family members have given me subscriptions to several food magazines, among them Bon Appetit, from which I ganked the above recipe.

In the May ‘08 issue, someone had written to the magazine asking for the recipe for the Capetown Collins, which is served at a place called No. 9 Park. I figured if someone liked a drink enough to write to a magazine to find out the particulars, it’s probably worth a go. Plus, it contains gin…and as an avowed gin evangelist, I need to promote it’s use whenever possible.

Long story short: I really liked it. It’s a great warm-weather choice (the Bamboo Babe envisioned it as a fine option for occasions when you find yourself outdoors on a thick, humid night). The rooibos-rosemary syrup is a nice flavor combo and matches up with the gin and lemon perfectly. It’s nicely balanced too, although if you like your drinks more on the tart side (like me), just scale back the syrup until you get it where you like it.

Cold drink. Lawn chairs. Bare feet in grass. You get the idea.


A note about where to find rooibos tea: I got mine at the local food co-op (hippies always have the best tea selection), so you’re likely to find it at places like organic grocers, health food stores, and decent coffee/tea joints.

MxMo: Rum

Jamaica Mule

2 oz. White rum
1 oz. Dark rum
1 oz. Gold rum
1 oz. Falernum
1 oz. Lime juice
Ginger beer

Shake everything except ginger beer with ice and strain into a large tumbler (at least 12 ounces…preferably larger) over ice. Fill with ginger beer and garnish with pineapple chunks and crystallized ginger.

Adapted from 1001 Cocktails by Alex Barker

Sometimes I seriously consider renaming this blog “I drink crappy cocktails so you don’t have to.”

By and large, the majority of recipes I dredge up are perfectly fine. There’s only been a been a few where I only took a sip or two before making a cartoon face and dumping it. But recently I seem to be finding myself selecting recipes that look promising on paper, but reveal themselves to be significantly flawed upon tasting. However, these drinks aren’t bad enough to abandon altogether, so I end up trying to salvage them somehow. They look like they should work in principle, so I begin fiddling with proportions and swapping ingredients around.

Such is the case with the Jamaica Mule. In 1001 Cocktails it’s listed as a variation on the classic Moscow Mule, using rum as the base spirit rather than vodka. Since rum obviously plays well with both lime and ginger beer, I figured this was a sure bet.

The big snag wasn’t the concept of the drink, but rather what specific ingredients to use. The recipe only states white, gold and dark rums, but offers no hint as to what styles or brands might be good choices. I began rummaging through my liquor closet, pulling out various rums and looking for possible candidates. (At this point the Bamboo Babe began heaping good-natured abuse upon me as she feels I own far too much rum)

Anyway, I love to experiment and tinker with recipes. However, I hate to waste good booze. So I made a pact with myself that I would give this drink 3 attempts, and if I couldn’t find a configuration I was happy with by then, I’d consign it to my personal cocktail graveyard. Onward I stumbled…

First stab:

2 oz. Havana Club Anejo Blanco
1 oz. Myers’s
1 oz. Pyrat XO
1 oz. Falernum (Fee Bros.)
1 oz. Lime juice
Ginger beer to fill

My thinking here was that using a decent quality light rum would set up a good base for the rest of the drink, and the Pyrat’s strong orange character would complement the lime flavors. Unfortunately, I underestimated just how strong the orange in the Pyrat was, and it came to the top in every sip. Plus, the falernum was way too evident. The whole thing ended up with a harsh, abrasive texture and was really unbalanced.

Second stab:

2 oz. Cruzan light
1 oz. Lemon Hart Demerara
1 oz Appleton V/X
½ oz. Falernum
1 oz. Lime juice
Ginger beer to fill

For this attempt, I cut back on the falernum, but it was irrelevant. This combination of rums is awful (at least in these proportions), and the less said about it the better.


Third stab:

2 oz. Havana Club Anejo Blanco
1 oz. Gosling’s Black Seal
1 oz. Appleton’s V/X
½ oz. Falernum
1 oz. Lime juice
Ginger beer to fill

Third time’s a charm? I’ll tentatively call this one a success (How’s that for confidence?). This is definitely the smoothest of the three, and it’s the easiest on the tongue. There’s no burn…just some pleasant tingle on the finish from the ginger beer, which in this configuration settles in much better with the rums.

Also, this recipe is the only one of the three that seems to truly echo the Moscow Mule and tastes faithful to the original idea. It has the vibe that I believe the creator(s) intended.

One important note: This recipe needs a spicy, somewhat bitey ginger beer. The brand I used was Jamaica’s Finest, a zippy, not-too-sweet locally-made brand. Marleigh managed to find it in her neck of the woods, so it may be widely available. It’s really good…get it if you can.

And if you haven't done so already, head on over to Trader Tiki's and check out all the other glorious rum concoctions!

For Medicinal Purposes Only

Jet Pilot

½ oz. Fresh lime juice
½ oz. Grapefruit juice
½ oz. Cinnamon-infused sugar syrup
½ oz. Falernum (Fee Bros.)
1 oz. Dark Jamaican rum (I used Myer’s)
¾ oz. Gold Puerto Rican rum (I subbed Cruzan)
¾ oz 151-proof Lemon Hart Demerera rum
Dash Angostura bitters
6 drops (1/8 teaspoon) Pernod
4 ounces crushed ice

Put everything in a blender, saving crushed ice for last. Blend at high speed for no more than 5 seconds. Pour into an old-fashioned glass.



Having spent a considerable chunk of April out of commission with pneumonia, I regrettably missed out on some drinking & posting I’d been meaning to do…including taking part in last month’s Mixology Monday. However, one advantage to this particular malady is that you always feel like you’ve had a couple of stiff drinks. It’s not the kind of buzz you can really enjoy though, because you’re constantly coughing and feeling like utter crap. But it does do wonders for your alcohol budget.

So right around the time my recuperation seemed imminent, a nice thing happened- I managed to acquire some Lemon Hart Demerara 151 rum (I’ll avoid the specific details as to how I finally got ahold of it because I don’t want the PLCB commandos parachuting into my backyard like that school scene from Red Dawn).

I also realized a batch of cinnamon-infused simple syrup in my fridge was nearing it’s expiration date, so the only reasonable course of action was to whip up a Jet Pilot. Plus, the vitamin C in the lime & grapefruit juice would certainly help with keeping me hale & hearty.

Did I mention I got to play with my ice crusher and mortar and pestle?

Anyway, The Jet Pilot appears in Jeff Berry’s excellent Sippin’ Safari, and it’s a keeper as far as I’m concerned. The conventional wisdom among tiki drink enthusiasts is that although many recipes feature a large number of ingredients (which presumably ratchets up the probability you‘ll screw something up), the end results can be strikingly balanced. The Jet Pilot is definitely one of those recipes. Rick and Robert thought so too.

As I mentioned, the balance of flavors is great. The cinnamon is front and center but doesn’t dominate. The rums blend beautifully, with the smoky burn of the 151 filtering through. The juices and falernum perk things up, and with only 6 drops (believe me, I measured this exactly) my old nemesis Pernod seemed in perfect proportion. This drink is now firmly entrenched on my list of “go-to” tropicals.

So will having a few Jet Pilots help you shake a stubborn illness? As the saying goes, “individual results may vary”. But while you’re behind the bar, make a few impassioned pleas to the tiki spirits- It could speed your recovery.