On Gin.

Truth be told, your time would be better spent trying
to snap an authentic photo of the legendary Bigfoot
than of me, in an inebriated state. However, I am not
a stranger to drink. I make no claims to be a wine
snob. In fact, wine generally causes me gastronomic
distress. My interest lies in beer and spirits.

While I am open to enjoying tastes found in
varieties various and sundry, I have noted the need
for discretion on some fronts. Allow me to share them
with you.

I have found that, when it comes to scotch, money is
no object. By that, I mean I am fortunate in enjoying
even the least expensive brand. In fact, it seems a
blended variety is more agreeable to my palate than a
single malt; thus, allowing me to imbibe, the whole
while leaving a few more dollars in my
wallet...Perhaps, to slip folded into the feathered
delicates of the young dancer who refers to me only as
"Her Regular".

Whiskey, in other forms, is not so forgiving. True, I can be satisfied with a brand resting upon the lower shelf, next to last; but I stay clear of the bottom. Neither my knees, nor my tongue, are up to the challenge.

The sorts that take the greatest care are those of clear liquid. I am speaking, of course, of vodka and gin. While there is a wide variety of vodkas that work quite well if it is your habit to adulterate the near perfect with the crude. Deliver me from the need to dilute one's glass with soda, juice or lime. But if you must, the world…or liquor store…is your oyster. My rule of thumb; never consider a vodka that is below eye level.

Now, my personal choice is, and always has been, gin. If ever a plant could be called holy, it is most certainly the juniper.

Gin, I am told, comes in two varieties…Distilled gin, which is redistilled after being flavored; and, compound gin, flavored with no further distillation. Compound gin is actually a vodka. A piece of trivia with which to wow your friends.

The crowning gem upon this great tree is…Tanqueray.
This is no bottom shelf broad…this is a lady. And as a lady, she does not want to be rushed. She needs to be appreciated first. Notice her fine green complexion. Gaze upon the monogrammed “T”, written in gothic script. Slowly caress her neck, feeling the smoothness of the glass.

It is now time to choose the best vessel in which to hold this sweet ambrosia. You will probably narrow your choices to two; a shot glass or martini glass. I suggest the martini glass. Several laboratory tests, and my own observation, shows that the martini glass holds more volume. This is your better choice.

Now, slowly pour the odiferant brew into the glass, as if you were resting a lover upon a soft bed. Breath in the fragrant bouquet. Drink in a small amount, allowing the liquid to evaporate into your pallet.

Ahh…What wonderful indulgence.

Now, if you will excuse me…I have a date.