The Uncle Pat
2 oz flat beer through rusty pipes
0.5 oz grenadine
Carve a dollar sign into rind of half a lime and garnish
Served on the rocks in double old-fashioned glass.
Beer prepared by leaving out two ounces of lowest grade beer at hand (Corona) to go flat for an hour, metallic taste aided by the addition of four pennies (which hopefully also contributed the kind of gunk that doubtless clings to every inch of Pat's Tavern). Ice added first, grenadine glopped on top, which immediately sunk to bottom. Lime was initially halved, then carved into with dollar sign, then squeezed to completion (juice discarded), finally put in an toaster oven for a few minutes. Nothing was stirred.
The nose reeked of potcheen's weird melon-like funk. The first sip stung with sour and intense potcheen kick, evoking spoiled dairy and antiseptic, mellowed with the stale beer's texture of a stagnant creek. It's the kind of drink a Pat's Cavern patron would love, the punishing sort of drink that makes you feel that you *earned* your insobriety, and keeps you safe from the troubling notion that you may for a moment ever enjoy your life. The grenadine only comes into play late in the drink. At this point, all you have is the remainder of the ice, an overlarge lime rind, and the grenadine you never wanted in the first place. You indifferently try to sip it for a while, but eventually dump it out.
From rusty pipes come terrible drinks. Potcheen should not be in anything. The Uncle Pat is bad.
Big Apple Interview
0.5 oz apple juice
2 oz seltzer
Stir, serve up in oversized cocktail glass.
Garnish with atomic fireball candy, sliced if possible.
For the record, it is *not* possible to slice atomic fireball candy.
In capturing the airy lustrousness of the gray Manhattan interview rooms, Stoli was selected, which seemed to be adequately '80s glitzy. As someone who does not like vodka cocktails and does not like apple juice, it's uncanny how *good* this is―almost certainly the best drink of its kind. Both the apple juice and pernod swim faintly against the big nothingness of vodka and seltzer; strong flavors in small quantities, it gives you the impression of a noisy street-level hubbub wafting 30 floors up, at the threshold of audibility. (The apple in particular gives the drink a certain honest bulkiness.) As you make you way through, the outer layer of the atomic fireball dissolves, lending an unsubtle satire of the cutthroat business world: stick around long enough and you're ankle-deep in blood.
I don't like vodka cocktails much but this one was OK. More subtle than expected. For best results let it sit a day until the Atomic Fireball fully dissolves.
1 oz Kahlua
1 oz ouzo
1 oz creme de cacao, perfect (half white half dark)
2 oz heavy cream
First lay Twizzler, soaked in Vodka in cocktail glass.
Shake all ingredients to mix, and strain into glass.
Garnish with maraschino cherry. Also garnish with sprinkles.
Pour into oversize snifter.
Garnish with orange and black sprinkles.
Silicon Valley Dirty Lyle
1 oz Everclear
Pour into in a pint glass. Serve lukewarm.
Yuppie Behind Bars
0.5 oz Blue Curaçao
0.5 oz Midori
0.5 oz Peach Schnapps
0.5 Rose's Lime
Shake with crushed ice, pour into tall glass.
Garnish with 5 rose petals and a faux Morning Glory.
1.0 oz lemon juice
0.25 oz grenadine
In a clear mug, add ingredients and boiling water. Add two cubes of
Garnish with cinnamon stick.