R-E-S-P-E-C-T for VS & FC

Same great taste...new and improved!

If you talk to enough booze nerds, certain patterns emerge. Cocktail enthusiasts tend to share an affinity for a lot of the same things (i.e. bitters, Hawaiian shirts), and you'll begin to hear specific names get dropped frequently if you hang out with these folks long enough.

There are certain people, products and publications that are perennial favorites- every drink geek worth his or her salt will be at least vaguely familiar with them. To try to list them comprehensively is an ambitious task, but let's just say that if you found yourself in the average booze nerd's house, you could make pretty accurate guesses as to what you'll find on their bookshelf and in their liquor cabinet.

For now, we'll leave the subject of people's liquor collections aside...analyzing what bottles people let reside in their homes is a pretty tall (and contentious) order. Book-wise, there tends to be a bit more agreement on what volumes are "must-haves." And there's one title that crops up again and again when you ask discerning drunks about books that they always keep within easy reach and refer to with great frequency: Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails.

This book, assembled by Ted "Dr. Cocktail" Haigh performs an admirable double-duty. It's a great collection of drink recipes and related historical info. But it's also responsible for the creation of many drink geeks. Ask your average cocktail obsessive what got them started on their pursuit of quality tipples, and you'll find that several of them credit running across a copy of VS & FC as being responsible for kick-starting their quest.

That's what happened to me. Back in the 90's the Bamboo Babe had given me an edition of the Mr. Boston's guide, which gave me a glimpse into what you could do with booze and a few mixers. But it wasn't until her mother gave me a copy of Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails a few years ago that the hook was set (apparently both these women want me loaded as often as possible).

Full-throttle geekery ensued. I imagine my trajectory wasn't terribly different from anyone else's: Wondering what the hell half the ingredients were. Then trying to FIND those ingredients. Discovering through trial-and-error which things I did & didn't care for. Learning proper mixing techniques. Spending unhealthy amounts of time online researching and sharing info with other enthusiasts. Wondering if there were any actual bars making these drinks anymore, or were they being crafted solely by hermits with outsized liquor stashes and a penchant for history?

So I ended up doing what many booze nerds embrace as the next natural step in the progression: Blogging. I don't know why so many of us feel the compulsion to document our drinking publicly, but there you have it. I began to notice a lot of boozebloggers were frequently posting recipes from VS & FC, and we compared notes. Clearly there were lots of others who were using this book as their bartop lodestone, and with good results. I also told anyone I met offline who expressed curiosity in drinking well that VS & FC was one of the first books they should get.

Then I discovered the damn thing was out of print. After telling everybody and their brother to go get it , the only place one could apparently be obtained was on the secondary market for well above the cover price. I guarded my copy like a religious artifact and refused to let it leave the house.

Except for when I toted it to New Orleans for Tales of the Cocktail in 2008. You see, by then I was deep enough into my obsession to have reached the next stage in the game: making the annual pilgrimage to Tales. I knew that Ted Haigh would be there and if I ran into him I wanted to tell him how much I enjoyed his book and possibly get him to sign it. Also, he had been nice enough to comment on one of my earlier posts, and I wanted to thank him for visiting my site.

Fortunately, that happened. He was gracious, funny, knowledgeable and kind enough to invite me and the people who introduced us to have a couple drinks with him, despite his being short on time and sleep. Like I said, a heckuva guy.

It was at that time that Ted mentioned the possibility of a revised and expanded second edition of VS & FC. Several months later, it had apparently become a reality, because Ted emailed several people (including me), asking our thoughts on the role blogging plays in the current resurgence of interest in cocktails. I was tremendously flattered he wanted my feedback, and I answered his questions as thoughtfully as I could, assuming that I probably hadn't offered up anything particularly insightful or that hadn't been better articulated by others.

Fast-forward to this past June, when I was able to get my hands on a copy. It turns out that the blogger-specific content that Ted had described ambiguously as perhaps a small sidebar feature or occasional bit of color commentary ended up becoming an entire section of the book. It's titled "Pioneering Champions of the Forgotten Cocktail: The 25 Most Influential Online Cocktail Pioneers" and includes profiles of people who have used (and are still very much using) their access to the internet to advance the cause of good drinking.

As I scanned the list, I recognized many people, several of whom I've had the pleasure of meeting personally, and others I knew by reputation. Almost all have some presence of one kind or another on the internet, and they represent a truly frightening volume of booze knowledge.

Oh, and there's also this one guy who gets buzzed and makes cartoons about it.

Yeah, I'm in there for some reason. To me, that section of the book is 24 people who really know their stuff, and one dork who drinks and draws. But I'm incredibly honored to be in such good company. Most of them are listed over there on the right, and if you have the book you know who they are...and you should be stopping by their sites as often as possible.

If you don't have the book, I strongly recommend picking up a copy of the new edition, even if you're just mildly interested in making good drinks. It's got all the stuff from the first edition, plus a bunch more...and I guarantee there will be at least one drink in there that you'll like well enough to revisit many times.

However, I won't reveal which drink in VS & FC I find myself going back to again and again- I don't want to create any preconceptions. When you get the book, I suggest you simply do what I did, which is to explore with abandon.

Just don't get mad at me when you find yourself typing "Amer Picon" into a search engine at 2:30 am.

I Never Go To Bars

I realized at some point over the last couple years of boozeblogging that there is a key difference between myself and the majority of my fellow drink geeks: I almost never find myself in bars.

It's not that I actively avoid bars...it's just that I never seem to patronize them with any real frequency. Odd, considering I adore bars. I think they're absolutely fascinating places. I love dives and swanky joints alike, and I've had wonderful, memorable times in almost every watering hole I've stepped into. Yet I do 99% of my drinking at home.*

This puts me in direct contrast with most of the other bloggers, bartenders, and assorted booze nerds I know who chronicle their public drinking escapades online. These people do some serious traveling, and not only do they hit up seemingly every bar in within reach, they can pretty much find hooch everywhere. On any given day of browsing blogs, social networking sites and emails, I encounter a flurry of miniature liquor-centric travelogues such as:


"The Moroccan Mixologists' Guild is sponsoring a VIP event...I'm sitting on a camel and sampling concoctions from 478 of the finest bartenders in North Africa!"

"Having drinks in New York's hottest new cocktail spot. To get in, you have to use a jetpack to fly to the roof, then rappel down 18 floors and climb through an air-conditioning vent. Totally worth it- best Negroni EVER!"

"I'm crouched in an igloo drinking Inuit moonshine!"

"Finished judging the Pan-Asian Craft Cocktail Showdown in Hong Kong. Jackie Chan just invited me to the rollout party for his new vodka!

"Got off the plane in Madagascar, and I'm being whisked to the island's only rum distillery for a VIP tour by the owner's daughter. She's been pouring me samples the whole time in the back of the limo. Did I mention she's a lingerie model? "

"Who knew a commercial whaling vessel would have a fully-stocked absinthe bar??"


And so on. Now, if I documented my drinking this way, it would essentially be endless variations of:

"Went to the basement and rummaged through the liquor shelf. Made a weird drink I found in some old bar guide and then watched 'Intervention.' Maybe I can draw a dopey cartoon about it later."

However, despite the fact that I rarely travel past the end of my driveway,** I've recently made several trips to what I'm confident is Pittsburgh's only craft cocktail bar: Embury.

I should point out that in addition to not doing product reviews here (much to the chagrin of the many brand reps who kindly send me samples, I'm sure), I don't review bars. I don't see myself as a critic, and I try to avoid going into that territory as much as possible. That being said, I do need to say just a few words about Embury :

Go there.

If you're in the greater Pittsburgh area and enjoy well-crafted cocktails, you need to go there now. Embury is the domain of Fred Sarkis, a phenomenally skilled & talented bartender who is using the cozy ground floor of the popular Firehouse lounge to bring pre-prohibition bartending to the 'Burgh.

Fred's been doling out the hospitality at Embury since March, and he continues to do so with a high degree of enthusiasm and class five nights a week . As I said, I won't attempt to do the place justice with a ham-fisted review. I'll just say that if premium spirits, fresh juices and homemade bitters & syrups are what you like in your drink, go there. If uncompromising attention to detail and technique in cocktail creation is your thing, go there. If original recipes that can stand alongside the classics sound appealing, go there.

To see a proper review and a photo of this fine gentleman in action (with FIRE!), go here and here.

I should also mention that Fred and the good folks at the Firehouse/Embury recently hosted a live Thursday Drink Night event and good-naturedly let a flock of booze nerds slap their laptops and webcam on the bar, much to the curiosity of the other patrons. Fred gallantly endured us barking pisco-themed recipes at him all night long while the management tried to avoid a wi-fi meltdown from the sheer volume of geekery. Many thanks, gang!

And because it bears repeating...

Go there.


* there are number of reasons for this, among them being that I'm a cheap bastard (according to the Bamboo Babe)

**A notable exception is that big yearly event in New Orleans that all the booze nerds go to. If you're reading this, there's a halfway decent chance you go there too.

Drinking AND Writing

Recently a fine, enterprising group of booze nerds formally known as the Cocktail & Spirits Online Writers Group descended upon New Orleans and held its first official conference. Waving a giant banner bearing Stan Jones' likeness, they invaded a fairly sedate stretch of Rampart street and set up a base of operations from which both cocktails and cocktail knowledge would issue forth.

The 2-day extravaganza dubbed "drink. write" took place in two locations: a stately Victorian dwelling dubbed the "Mixo house" and a cozy gathering spot located literally across the street . Two days worth of intense drink-related knowledge was shared in the conference facility, while the casual swapping of booze-centric info, socializing and imbibing took place largely at the Mixo house.



Camper English, Jay Hepburn, SeanMike Whipkey and Paul Clarke drop some science.


The presentations and panel discussions covered topics such as how to be a better writer, connecting with the cocktail community at large, how to optimize your blog's effectiveness, taking nifty photos of your drinks, and making dazzling garnishes. These events drew upon the collective skill and talent of people like Jay Hepburn, SeanMike Whipkey, Paul Clarke, Tiare Olsen, Rick Stutz, Martin Cate, Jamie Boudreau, Darcy O'Neil, Camper English and Chuck Taggart , who were kind enough to get up in front of a herd of knowledge-hungry cocktail geeks and dispense wisdom.

After the PowerPoint glare had faded and all the citrus carcasses had been swept up, the gathering eventually shifted to the Mixo House, where the surprisingly named "Mixo Bar" formed the centerpiece of the proceedings. Seemingly everyone took a turn behind the stick, and if you couldn't get a good drink, it was probably your own fault- the generosity of the sponsors ensured that product was in good supply, and there was always someone on hand who knew what to do with it.



Chris Stanley personifies bartender bushido at the Mixo bar.


I could attempt to do a blow-by-blow chronological narrative of the whole conference, but as I mentioned in my Tales of the Cocktail wrap-up, I'm better at disjointed commentary. Bearing that in mind, here's a handful of thoughts filtered through the hazy lens of my memory (and barely legible notes)...


~ After a few nights of wondering why my bed felt so cold, I realized an AC vent in the floor was positioned dead-center below my bed (or more accurately, my bed was positioned dead-center above an AC vent). Thereafter, I began keeping bottles of vermouth under my mattress.

~ The "Foxy Cocktail Garnish" session resulted in more slaughtered produce than I've ever seen in my life. It was like those old civil war battlefield aftermath photos. Except the North was limes, the South was lemons, and the horses were oranges.

~ You can really test the performance envelope of an ice machine by placing it in a poorly-ventilated utility shed. In New Orleans. In July.



Our ice machine makes its feelings perfectly clear on where we chose to put it.


~ Every night ends with scotch (regardless of how large a variety of drinks you may have consumed up to that point).

~ Banging a muddler up and down a flight of wooden stairs is a traditional old New Orleans method used to rouse revelers who may be flagging late in the evening. Or maybe someone just made that up to justify their doing it at 1:30 am.

~ You can never have too many bitters.

~ When a third of the house's liquor supply is stored in your bedroom, you wield unimaginable power.



Me realizing my bed is probably underneath all that liquor.


~ Next year I will be organizing a scavenger hunt. The first person to find a restaurant offering an item that contains neither pork nor shellfish wins.

~ Pouring Branca Menta directly into an open wound will not only disinfect it, but will give you +2 on your saving throw vs. breath weapon.

~ If you enjoy cigars, I can think of nowhere better to have one than a secluded, quiet, brick-paved courtyard surrounded by lush greenery. Having a fully stocked bar mere feet away in the air-conditioning is also a bonus.

~ Despite claims to the contrary, you CAN make a meal out of nothing but cherry tomatoes, basil and mozzarella cheese.



Joana Marquette making sure we ingest something other than hooch.


~ A broken toilet does not seem that urgent or troubling when you are holding a glass of 23 year-old-rye.

~ With great karaoke comes great responsibility.

~ A 6-month old child was able to weather several days in New Orleans with more resilience and fortitude than I could. He can probably out-drink me too.

~ I consider the large patch of mint growing next to the Mixo house a gift from the Garnish Gods.

~ When Tiare moves to New Orleans, she's hosting all the afterparties.



Also, a few quick words of thanks & recognition need to go out to the following:

~ Matthew Rowley for his fine work moderating the discussions.

~ Joana Marquette for her seemingly endless stream of top-notch munchies.

~ Nathan Lutchansky for barbacking above and beyond the call of duty.

~ Sponsors and representatives for supplying us with product and stopping by to help sling it.

~ Fellow members of the CSOWG who all contributed to making the event a success!

Fails of the Cocktail

Here in the Liquor Lab we endeavor to do the best we can when making drinks. If we're making a classic, established cocktail, we attempt to do the necessary research so as to have at least a cursory idea of what it is we're doing. Bar guides are perused, online resources are tapped and fellow booze nerds are consulted.

If we're trying our hand at coming up with an original drink, the process is similar, although a lot more trail-and-error is involved. Still, the goal is the same: To make a drink that someone will enjoy...and hopefully want again.

This has been on my mind lately because the annual hooch-centric extravaganza known as Tales of the Cocktail is less than a month away, and I'm looking forward to marinating in a continuous stream of finely-prepared cocktails assembled by a legion of skilled and talented mixologists who bring their considerable powers to bear. These folks take drink-making very seriously, and it's a wonderful experience to be on the receiving end of their abilities.

But what happens when this isn't the case? What if you don't find yourself in the capable hands of a conscientious bartender? What about that moment that occurs between idea and execution when things go terribly, terribly awry?

I think almost everyone who enjoys a cocktail even semi-regularly has had the misfortune of being served a drink so puzzling, so ill-fashioned, so irredeemably wrong, that it sears itself into memory. Attempts to completely block them out inevitably fail, and their resurrection can potentially be triggered by almost any drinking occasion, even years later. These unfortunate mental spectres lie dormant, almost forgotten, but always somehow spring back to the fore.

My own encounter with a very wrong drink occurred several years ago, and went pretty much like this...

At a wedding reception held in a fairly nice country club-type place, I approached what looked to be a reasonably well-appointed bar. The staff was polite, sharply dressed, and was speedily (though not carelessly) dispensing cocktails. To all appearances , this was a crew who knew what they were doing, and I was optimistic.

I was in the mood for a Martini, and I figured its few ingredients and ease of construction would make it a good choice as far as the staff was concerned...I try not to make anyone's life difficult if I can help it. As I stepped to the bar, one of the bartenders slid over and I was glad to see he had a head of fully gray hair. He was well into his fifties at least, and I thought to myself, "If anyone here knows how to make a Martini, it's this guy."

He gruffly asked what I'd like, and my response was, "Could I get a Martini?"

Now, there are times in one's life when you say something and immediately realize you never should have said what just emerged from your mouth. These are the times when you wish life had a rewind button. This was one of those times. Whatever instinct that signaled me I should never have asked for a Martini from this particular gentleman at this particular event came about 3 seconds late.

His expression immediately turned sour, and with a grunt, he rummaged below the bar and produced a bottle of gin.* Next, he swiftly placed a clear plastic cup that resembled a miniature double-old-fashioned glass on the bar and shoveled three small, dripping ice cubes into it. The final step was to haphazardly slosh an indeterminate amount of gin into the cup. He then pushed the drink my way and briskly spun off without a word to attend to someone else. The entire transaction took approximately 8 seconds.

I won't even attempt to itemize the myriad ways in which this drink was wrong. Like many drinks, the Martini is subject to a degree of personal interpretation, but there are some ground rules nonetheless. (and if you read this blog, I'm confident you know what they are). This drink violated a bunch of them.

Like a dope, I actually took a couple sips. I don't know what I was expecting, but a lukewarm plastic cup of gin did not transmogrify into a bracing, refreshing cocktail just because I wished really hard. Maybe some perverse part of me wanted to see just how bad it actually could be. I found out, and relegated it to the nearest trash can.

Let's just say that bad booze +bad preparation + bad customer relations = lousy drink.

This isn't meant to be an indictment of this particular bartender- Who knows why he made such a poor drink? (misleading tips from dubious online bartending videos may be the culprit. Jeffrey Morgenthaler has been unearthing tons of them lately) . If there's a lesson here, I think it's that a bad drink can be just as memorable as a good one. Maybe more so. However, I've had far more good drinks** than bad ones, so I chalk that up as a win overall. But when the opportunity presents itself, I still like to ask people:

What's the worst drink you've ever had?



* I can't recall the specific brand, but it was not good. Really not good.

** Several of these were made during Mixology Monday, which happens to be today...and I completely forgot about it yet again.

Sample Jamboree and Traveling In Your Own Mind

Blimps over Bangkok

1 oz. Mekhong
1 oz. London dry gin
.5 oz. Aperol
.5 oz. Cynar
.5 oz. simple syrup
1-2 dashes Fee’s mint bitters

Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Float a very thin lime wheel on surface of drink.

I don’t travel much. But I do have a healthy wanderlust, and I satisfy it vicariously through TV shows, books, magazine articles, and travelogues on the Web. Cocktails also will do the trick, in their own way.

Sometimes a cocktail will be the catalyst for a journey that takes place entirely within your own mind. Aided by the smell, taste and appearance of a well-crafted drink, your imagination can take you down roads and rivers even though your body remains at rest. You needn’t leave your recliner or barstool- The trick is simply to have the right beverage.

I was recently experimenting with a bottle of Mekhong, and ended up making a drink that kick-started one of these mental journeys. The combination of flavors, aromas and colors had my mind drifting along the currents of a 19th-century adventure epic…a sepia-toned, steampunk saga replete with bold travelers questing for knowledge, experience, and perhaps a little treasure. Peering through goggles at faded maps, explorers clawed their way through dripping jungles and glided above crumbling temples in rickety, patchwork airships.

No doubt they needed the ropes, machetes, compasses, and rifles they packed at the outset. The one-of-a-kind book of ancient symbols purchased at the bazaar might be handy. And that shiny little talisman the old man in the hut gave them certainly couldn’t hurt. Everyone can use a little magic now and then.

Who knows exactly what they encountered? Were they imperiled by creatures only thought to exist in myth? Had their resolve been tested by treading upon forbidden pathways? Did they commune with a lost race of people, receiving a glimpse into unseen realms?

Regardless, I’m sure the travelers used their wits and whatever other resources they commanded to make their way home again. There were likely a few scars and certainly some good stories. Maybe even a strange, ancient object to hang on the wall of the club…a tangible reminder to be pondered while sipping a well-made and well-deserved cocktail.

Have a drink. Take a trip.

Cinco de Moai

According to the ads in the local free weekly paper, I’m supposed to be celebrating Cinco de Mayo somewhere that offers both Tequila and Mexican beer in colossal quantities for very reasonable prices. As appealing as I find stock photos of bikini-clad women with sombreros Photoshopped on them, I decided to ignore them and the ads they populate in favor of other diversions.

Diversion #1 was spending a chunk of Saturday afternoon watching the Kentucky Derby and some of the pre-race hype on TV. I don’t know squat about horses or why they like to run in circles, but it gave me an excuse to brush up on my Mint Julep technique.

Diversion #2 was using the Bourbon I had leftover from Diversion #1 to continue tinkering with a recipe I’ve been playing with for awhile. It’s a tiki-style concoction that features a conspicuous lack of rum*, but still (to me anyway) has the requisite “tiki taste.“


Bluegrass Blowgun

1.5 oz. Bourbon (I used Bulleit)
.75 oz. Agwa de Bolivia coca leaf liqueur
2 oz. unsweetened pineapple juice
.5 oz. simple syrup
.25 oz. cinnamon syrup
¼ tsp. Absinthe
2 dashes Angostura orange bitters

Shake with ice and strain into ice-filled double old-fashioned glass.** Garnish with orange wheel and any other tiki-themed paraphernalia that looks fun.


The secret weapon here is the Agwa, and I think it’s something that should be in every tiki drink enthusiast’s arsenal. It’s got a distinctive flavor- mellow, herbal, somewhat sweet, and with a borderline medicinal snap. It’s pleasing on it’s own, but it mixes so well it’s too much fun to not experiment with. Mr. Bali Hai over at Eye of the Goof apparently thought so too.

So even though I eschewed the fiesta crowd this year, I still think I should get some credit. Tiki drinks are technically south-of-the-border, right?



* I love rum…but I seem to have become enamored of rum-less tiki drinks lately.

** For bonus points, double the recipe and dump it into a Moai-shaped mug!

Sample Jamboree and the Tribulations of Tequila

Tequila is the base spirit I reach for least often. It’s not because I dislike it, it’s just that Tequila’s flavor is something I rarely feel myself wanting. The other reason I rarely drink it is a bit more complex. For me, the smell & taste of Tequila has become inextricably linked with a specific time and place. And when I’m having Tequila outside that specific time and place, it just seems somehow…less.

What I’m referring to is a Jimmy Buffett concert.

You see, I’ve attended almost every concert Jimmy Buffett has played in my hometown since about 1993. I’ve missed a few years here and there, but for the most part, I’ve managed to faithfully attend the show with my friends & family every year. Just like clockwork, Buffett rolls into town each Summer…and going to the show is an annual pilgrimage.

It’s difficult to describe the full scope of a Jimmy Buffett concert using only words. (and if you aren’t terribly interested in my feeble attempt to do so, please feel free to skip ahead to the recipes- My feelings won’t be hurt). Ideally, you should simply go to a show and let the experience wash over you, but most people want to have some idea of what they’re committing themselves to beforehand. So here goes…

A Buffett show can perhaps be described as an unruly, glorious mishmash of a luau, Mardi Gras, backyard cookout, and Spring break…all crammed into an arena, ballpark, or wherever else they put on jumbo-sized concerts. A clumsy analogy to be sure, but I’m doing my best here. (If you ‘re a picture person rather than a word person, simply do an image search under the term “Buffett tailgate” and you’ll get the idea).

It’s essentially an all-day party that happens to have a bit of music at the end. Depending on the venue, the revelry can start anywhere from 9 am to midday, and goes full-blast until around 8 o’clock when the concert starts. Attending the concert is purely optional. Many people spend the day having a good time regardless of whether they’re able or willing to see the show. Here’s a few reasons why:

~ The weather is almost always warm and sunny. But even if it wasn’t, this would not deter the hordes of partygoers from wearing their best tropical-themed good-time regalia, which includes, but is not limited to grass skirts, Hawaiian shirts, coconut bras, bikinis, and any combination thereof. And giant, elaborate hats. Serious hats. A more accurate term would probably be “headgear.” The kind of thing Carmen Miranda would wear to the Kentucky Derby. Shame does not exist in a Buffett parking lot.

~ People bring their own bars. Not just a cooler. Not just a card table with a few paltry bottles and a stack of keg cups on it. An honest-to-gawd BAR. Almost always homemade and tiki-themed, these marvels of engineering somehow fit into a normal-sized van or pickup truck and miraculously unfold to grace the parking lot with a welcome oasis of shade, rest and refreshment (many of them include roofs and stools). Did I mention that they often feature nicer décor and offer up better drinks than you can get at the kinds of bars that are made of bricks and can’t be packed into your trunk? Innovation and a can-do attitude are alive and well in America.

~ Serious eating. Like most tailgate events, food is not in short supply. In addition to the grilling of almost every conceivable type of land and sea creature, people are always finding new ways to cook stuff out of the backs of their cars. I’ve seen full-scale shrimp boils and people steaming mussels with real seaweed. If it was ever traditionally caught & cooked within a few miles of a coast, someone has figured out a way to replicate it in a Buffett show parking lot. You can also probably find almost any Summertime side dish provided you look hard enough. If you go hungry, it’s your own fault.

~ People bring their own beach. Much like the folks who bring their own bars, the beach people don’t mess around. If you’re craving the feel of sand between your toes, walk no more than 50 yards in any direction and your problem is solved. Untold hundreds of pounds of sand get hauled into the parking lot each year, destined to be spread as widely as possible, creating beachfront real estate between every row of cars. Kiddie pools are filled, tiki torches are staked & lit, and chaise lounges appear. Lifeguard towers too. I still don’t know how they manage those, but they’re there. Safety first, I guess.

~ Nudity. It happens with surprising frequency.

~ Booze. It’s all fueled by booze. Truly staggering amounts of booze. If you’ve got an empty hand, your fellow tailgaters will give you a drink. If you’ve got two empty hands, they’ll give you two drinks. There’s beer in colossal quantities. Hearty portions of rum. Inexhaustible, roving trays of jello shots. And Tequila. Whether straight from the bottle, in shot form with the ever-present lime and salt, or mixed with orange liqueur and lime juice and poured from a bicycle-powered blender, there is an epic amount of Tequila coursing through the parking lot at Buffett shows. All this Tequila worship stems primarily from a little ditty that Buffett recorded back in the 70’s called “Margaritaville.“ (I needn’t explain further… you’ve heard the song.).

So the association persists: Tequila equals tailgate. Conveniently enough, I prefer my Tequila in a Margarita, and it’s the sacred duty of the Bamboo Babe to provide them each year. She skillfully batches them in a large beverage cooler the morning of the show, and helping out has become one of my favorite traditions (If you’ve never had your entire house filled with the pungent aroma of Tequila at 9 a.m., you’re missing out. It’s an olfactory sensation that signals a good day will only get better).

However, if you prefer not to make your Margaritas by the gallon, here’s a recipe you can use to enjoy them one at a time. It’s the same one we scale up on concert day:


Laura’s Famous Margarita*

1.5 oz. Blanco Tequila
1 oz. lime juice
.5 oz. Cointreau

Shake with ice and strain into Margarita glass filed with cracked or crushed ice. We don’t salt the rim, but if you want to, then doowutchyalike.**


Our go-to Tequila brand for this drink is Sauza, but the kind folks at Tequila Ocho recently sent me a sample and I found it to be outstanding. They both work extremely well here…it just depends on how much zing you prefer (The Ocho is a bit more genteel than the Sauza, which has a snappy bite I enjoy ).

But not wanting to limit myself to Margaritas in perpetuity, I found this recipe in the most recent edition of the Mr. Boston’s book, and after trying it, I can say it’s darn good.


The Interesting Cocktail

2 oz. Blanco Tequila
.5 oz. Aperol
.5 oz. Crème de cacao (dark)
.75 oz. Lemon juice

Shake w/ ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a grapefruit twist.

(The Bamboo Babe suggested a better garnish for this one would be a thin wedge from a Terry's chocolate orange, and I think she’s exactly right.)


The Interesting Cocktail suffers from the “it doesn’t look good on paper” syndrome, but it’s worth a try- It has a great 3-way balance of Tequila, chocolate and citrus, and tapers off with a peppery finish. This would be a great gateway drink for the Tequila-shy.


By the way, the concert is June 23rd. If you’re going, let me know…we’ll have a drink waiting for you.



* Although my wife obviously did not invent this drink, it has become known by this name among our friends & family. Such things happen.

** In my opinion, one of the better tracks from Digital Underground’s acclaimed 1990 release, Sex Packets.