The Adventures of a 35yo (Alcohol) Virgin

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hit counter At 35 years old, I had never tasted, tried or drank an alcoholic drink of any kind. During 2012 that all changes drink by drink and you get to enjoy the results post by post.

Permalink LemondropAh, Friday night. So, to kick off the weekend, Joe and I were having a “couples night out” with several of his office work friends and their significant others. Most of the group were completely new to me—outside of the occasional brief introduction at prior work events. We started the night by heading over to Poste at the Hotel Monaco. But several of the folks were concerned the drinks would be too expensive, the atmosphere too fancy, the place too upscale hipster. Totally a fair assessment.Ok, no problem, right?  So where next?…35minutes later after naming every bar in a 1 mile radius followed by a “eh.” or “meh.” or “no…” we all decided cheap drinks were key, low noise was a plus and someplace close was necessary.Joe and I—kinda as a joke in consideration of all the requests—asked “What about McCormick & Schmick’s?” And they all said yes.You are correct, we are to blame. I know this now.Oh, are you familiar with M&S? It’s fine. Honestly. Its a much nicer chain than Red Lobster—but not half as fun. But they’re still pretty hit or miss. And they over-charge and often under-deliver on portions and quality. But again, it’s fine.And as a mid-up-level chain, it was pretty dead on a Friday night in downtown DC. We were seated all together and it was quit, but those were the highlights. They run a end of the night “happy hour” featuring food and drinks so hopes were high for cheap too, but… well…Ok, so first things first. Their drink & cocktail menu is odd. On one hand they don’t seem to really feature classics. Instead they seem to feature classics with a house-twist. But as it’s a chain and not it’s own unique place, each house drink was something like HoneyRita® - Made with Jose Cuervo® tequila, SueBee® honey-flavored vodka and a splash of soda water, you’re going to be buzzing about it. Wait, what?Everything was just a bit off. Where it just wasn’t an odd mixture, it was an terrible sounding one. They also had loads of standard and upscale liquors and mixers, but that’s not a shock.The table ordered a round of drinks and a few things to munch on. But not before the Waitress—who, lord help her, was taking care of our entire section alone—mentioned that one of the bartenders was a trainee.A trainee on a Friday night? Then again, its not like the place was hopping. But alright, at least we were warned.In retrospect, that warning helped save her credibility.Half of the drinks that came to the table looked off. And apparently tasted off. Joe’s and a few others experienced drinks they called “tasteless.”, “weak.” and “literally like nothing.”  There were several returns, re-orders and new orders placed. I kept it simple and ordered my first Lemondrop martini. Simply made with vodka, tripple sec, superfine sugar and fresh lemon, it’s a classic. This one pushed the lemon envelope a bit and had Citron vodka as its base. Smart.It was straight lemon fruit juiciness—even with a touch of pulp. Bright, tart, sweet and slightly sharp, it had a nice burn from the vodka heightened by the fresh lemon zing. It was really refreshing, nicely upscale and adult, nothing dramatic but very pleasant. It was an adult lemonade, more class and sass than a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, but admittedly less fun. Rimmed with sugar and served with a lemon wedge, it was just shy of great and bordered on pedestrian. But I enjoyed it nonetheless. I’m starting to realize that I’m craving balance from my drinks. I like sweet over not, but I need depth. I’m relating to alcohol like I relate to hot sauce: I need flavor and heat. And I’ll take flavor over sting every time, but their marriage is my sweetspot. I like the brown and yellow liquors because they have something more to offer: flavor, depth, layers, personality. The clearer the liquid, the more boring the beast, I’m afraid.[note: also, this is not necessarily a political statement.] The reminder of the experience was just as run of the mill. The bartender never seemed to find his footing—each drink ordered by the same people looked different from one another and the alcohol levels and mixers were consistently off.Adding to that people still getting a bit drunker, louder, more impatient and it starts to get increasingly awkward for everyone. Thankfully, we had decided to head over to another bar before things got too tense.  We all agreed we paid too much and were underwhelmed. But I clearly got enough to keep the blog moving and for what it’s worth, that’s perfectly good for me. ha. So sorry, M&S, you were pretty substandard, even for a chain. But thanks for a perfectly solid Lemondrop. And while everyone else felt cheated by their swill, mine gets immortalized.Oh life. What a wonder, am I right?Cheers, Ben
Permalink French 8407Date night. No, not the strangely disappointing movie (Steve Carell and Tina Fey. Steve & Tina. What happened? Seriously. No, seriously. It should have been comedy genius. …seriously, anyway.)   Well, it was more like Date Afternoon, and with our good friends—and frequenters of the Adventures blog—Courtney & Jordan, we were taking in a movie, a nice dinner and some time hanging out with good friends. The movie: Pixar’s Brave. The dinner: Silver Spring’s 8407 Kitchen Bar. Brave was fantastic. Not epic. Typically, Pixar is epic. Wall-e, The Incredibles, oh god, Up! Wait, the Toy Story trilogy… Finding Nemo?! Epics. All epics. It was Cars fantastic. A Bug’s Life fantastic. But not Monsters, Inc. epic. Great story, funny, sweet, smart, enthralling. Fantastic, but I just want to make it clear in the line-up. But let’s talk epic on another front, shall we? Let’s talk 8407 Kitchen Bar. Courtney & Jordan love this place. They’ve mentioned a few times how much they enjoy eating there, the cocktails, the deviled eggs. Oh, lord, those deviled eggs.Right off the bat, ALL of their starting plates were amazing. Calamari, homemade sausages & sauerkraut, the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever, steamed mussels and a second order of the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever. Oh! And they have this amazing housemade beef jerky on the menu for $1 a strip. Really? Yes. Really.You know how some places make you frustrated that you can only order one entree? Even when you know you can sample off other’s plates? No? Only me? Shut-up, I’m not addicted to food. I’m not. I’m not. [I am.]Back-off. So we each order our meal and every one was rich, savory and delicious. Joe’s especially: a rich seafood red curry stew over jasmine rice. My steak was perfect, the duck fat fried french fries, inspired. But after tasting his stew, I wanted to distract him and switch meals. And then distract him again and switch back. Essentially eating both meals. And no, it doesn’t mean I don’t love him. Again, back-off.Oh lord, have I even mentioned the cocktails yet? Crap. Sometimes—when food is involved—I forget why I’m writing this little blog. Sorry, you’ll have to forgive me.  But did I mention the deviled eggs had crispy pastrami bacon on top? No? Oh. It was hard to make a decision from their cocktail list. Most of it is inspired, several quirky and all of them look worthy of a virgin’s taste. Wait. That sounds dirty. …Eh.After some table debate, I settled on one of their personal modern classics, a French 8407. Made with Hangar One vodka, St. Germaine Elderflower liquor, Yuzu juice—a distinct Japanese citrus fruit, lemon bitters, and Gruet Sparkling Wine.It was strong and tasty, and crazy tangy. Made with 3 different alcohols it started nicely sweet, but ended slightly bitter. The elderflower is not one of my favorite flavors, with it’s earthy, grassy, floral musk. However, it blended nicely with the lemon and yuzu citrus flavors. The alcohol sting was striking, the bubbles keeping the flavors of the drink lingering on my tongue in tiny little bursts. It tasted fancy and looked fancy, thusly, making me feel fancy. In a weird way, the French 8407 was similar to the Tom Collins I had with Courtney & Jordan back in the beginning, but fresher, tangier, tastier.  Sorry, Tom, you lose again. Oh man, I’m so glad I’m not you, Tom. Whoo-boy. Poor Tom.Oh, Date Afternoon. So fun. Courtney and Jordan keep showing us sides of the eastern region to fall in love with. From Baltimore to Richmond and in nearby Silver Spring.  We really need to reciprocate in some creative way. I’m just afraid that Cleveland isn’t enough. Good enough, that is. Or enough? Just enough. No reason to be mean. I still love you Cleveland. Enough it is.So pack your bags Courtney and Jordan, we’ll be making plans soon to be NE Ohio bound! Well, don’t pack your bags yet.  Soon is just a way of saying “sometime soon.” or “sometime”.We’re all young. We have time. Cleveland isn’t going anywhere. There is still time to kick back, relax and order the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever from 8407 while we wait. Seriously, those eggs. I’m not kidding. Let’s make plans to do that first. Like right away, first. Cleveland can seriously wait. Cheers, Ben
Permalink First Jungle Juice (and shot of Jameson)Joe and I love making new friends. We get all dorky about it, honestly. Especially coupled friends. We start thinking about joint vacations, dinners out and over and other adorable things couples can do for date nights and events. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but yeah, we’re really funny about this. We love our individual and single friends too—don’t fret folks—but since we really, lovingly, sometimes grossly love doing everything together, having couple friends is nice.One area we’re kinda lacking—as stereotypical as it sounds—are other gay male couple friends. Joe will argue that it’s because I “don’t like” gay people. And… well… um… ok, look. I came out at age 14. Almost all of my friends and family knew pretty quickly and I’m not quite sure if this will make sense, but here we go…I’ve never really felt “embraced” by the gay male community. I think, if I’m being really honest, its because I came out really early in the early 90’s. It wasn’t “cool” to be gay. Some would argue it’s not cool now. Gay teen suicide is on the rise, gay bashing is as prevalent as ever and while we’re making huge strides in equality and marriage, that has it’s own special backlash.Hopefully time will heal all wounds—maybe not scars—but, we’ll see. I have grand hope.Anyway.My coming out story was very, usually VERY unlike other gay teens and young adults I would meet. My family was really supportive. My friends just as supportive. I didn’t have any terrible or evenly vaguely uncomfortable stories of backlash, bullying or taunting. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: I am the Unicorn.So when I would meet other gay males—especially in college—it was commonplace to share mutual strife, coming out difficulties, stories of hope, of overcoming diversity. I was the skinny girl in a room full of Weight Watcher clients asking if I could join the meeting. Or so it felt. I can remember saying some years later that my “most difficult, worst” coming out story was to other gay men. They strangely ostracized me because they couldn’t relate, I couldn’t share in the common thread of pain. So it was rare to forge any real gay friendships. I’m not an idiot—I’m not even really complaining—I totally get it. But over time it created this weird wedge in my social life. I just had so few gay male friends. I wasn’t part of a Pride group, I didn’t frequent bars or events. And you get to your mid 30’s and it’s just becomes that thing. Like not drinking, perhaps. And before you know it here I am with very few gay male friends and virtually no gay male couple friends. For Joe, this has been an issue. Nothing earth-shattering, but something that he wanted. For him it’s more of a community thing. He’s had lots of gay friends. And having a solid gay couple friend is something he’s always mentioned he wished we had.And—while still early yet—I think it’s finally happening. While at one of the last standard Thursday Yappy Hours, I met Scotty and Patrick. A few years older than myself, they were neighborhood locals in tow with one of their adorable chocolate labs, Hurley. We found out we had a couple of mutual friends in Jamie owner of the Blue Banana and Adam, one of the main bartenders.They were fun, funny, kind and genuinely great guys. Scotty, originally from Scotland has been in the area for a little over a dozen years and Patrick is a DC local, born and raised. And we got along wonderfully, easy breezy. And a few days later they invited us to their home for a weekly happy hour they throw each week with neighborhood friends.And so after my work happy hour where I had my firstdrink of Cuba Libre, Joe swung by to pick me up and then we headed quickly to our place to change out of work clothes, grab a bottle of wine and head over the Scotty and Pat’s. Their home was stunning. Their friends were eclectic, fun, engaging and a nice mix of gay, straight, male, female, youthful, silver, black, white and brown. It was heavenly. It was so very DC in all the right ways. And the firstdrink they offered me? Scotty’s “famous” Jungle Juice. Pulled straight from the freezer, it was a secret mix of juices, tonic and vodka and tasted like the best adult snowcone I’d ever had. No, it’s none of your business how many I had, thank you very much. And yes I was able to walk home just fine. Yes, maybe I had a slight headache the next day, but no my work was unaffected. Anyway.Frosty, icy cold, sweet, fruity—but not “fruit punch” fruity—tangy and smooth. The Jungle Juice was de.lic.ous. They had a tiny, but ample bar, several snacks and conversation to talk the night away. So much so, before we knew it, it was half past 11pm before we realized how late it was getting on a Wednesday, said our goodbyes and left.But we had a great time. Adore Scotty and Patrick, their friends and their budding new friendship. We’ve already make plans to see them again soon, and tentative plans to have them over for dinner to return the favor of the happy hour. We’re even—don’t go into shock—planning on trying to catch a musical or show with them sometime this summer. Trite, perhaps. Fun, absolutely. Ok, so I’m not going to stupidly overstate this: I’m enjoying our new gay couple friends. Certainly not just because they’re gay. But because they’re wonderful,funny and kind. Because I’m realizing that unlike the attention I’m bringing to my new world of drinking, my vanilla-laced coming out story is passe at this stage in life. All that matters now is good friends, good family, good food and—I finally get this!—good wine.In fact, shortly before we left Patrick poured us all a shot of Jameson whiskey to celebrate to new friendships. Wow, that packed a punch on it’s own. The sweetest of burns, a bit brassy. I liked it in the 2 seconds it took to down it, but lord knows I wasn’t going back for another taste for the blog. I love my liver too much.So while it’s very cool to find friendship and comfort in new friends—gay or otherwise—I have to remember that friendships are developed, not designed. Everything in the past is just faded history, at best. And everything yet to come is a bright new history to make. Making new friends at all, is the real magic.Oh wow, that sounded the gayest of all. Sorry.You know, I’m so smart sometimes I’m stupid. I know, I know. At least I’m hopefully entertaining to read. Cheers, BenPS: Next up, June’s Charity Yappy Hour. Spoiler: new firstdrink, new charity, new beer vendor and my first ever invitation to visit a local brewery as a VIP. Oh yes, this shit is getting legit my friends and fans. Brace for impact.
Permalink HC CoolerI could eat BBQ every day. Literally. And yes, maybe I say that about lots of different foods—Chinese, Indian, pizza, burgers Chick-Fil-a, seafood and rice pudding to name a few—but that’s not the point. For the sake of this story, it’s BBQ all the way.BBQ!!!So, since I can’t eat it everyday, mostly because I need to fit in my clothes, I look for good excuses to go get BBQ when it’s more of an “occasion”. One of those good excuses is when friends are in town. As you may recall, our friend Angie was in town from Ohio for the weekend. We started off with some watered-down-sangria in the park. But for dinner, we were getting some stellar BBQ at Hill Country off Chinatown. We love this place. Its slightly cafeteria style, but the meat is house-smoked, hand carved and the multitude of southern sides are almost too amazing when you have to narrow it down, choosing 1-2 so you don’t overeating.We warned Angie that while delicious, her fingers will smell like smoke for at least 3 days after. A good smell of smoke, but they’re that good at smoking meats that your own fingers will smell like tasty sausages. In my case they already look like them, so it can often cause some early morning confusion. Thank god for pain reflex.And to be honest, I wasn’t even going to have a drink with dinner, but these days I at least scan the drink menu to make sure I’m not missing anything I just have to try for the blog. …And there it was.An HC Cooler… a little drink with vodka, Tang and a touch of fresh orange. Wait, Tang? Are you kidding me? Yes, apparently Tang. The delicious vaguely orange-like breakfast drink. Made famous by Astronauts and then more famous as sexual slang (feel free to look it up…) Tang clearly caught my eye.They jokingly called it a “Texas take on a classic screwdriver.” I don’t know how Texans would care for that—nor do I really care—but I was highly amused. And so another firstdrink it was! Light, a moderate alcohol kick and nicely Tang’ish. The real orange juice helped make the Tang a little more robust against the majority liquid of vodka. Again, I don’t terribly care for vodka, but when it’s paired with something like Tang, it’s far more fun than when left to it’s own devices. Oh, and the BBQ. Angie, Joe and I ate until we just about popped, smokey, bloated, happy, asking if Hill Country—who has some of the nicest, sweetest staff—had a carry out to the curbside option for patrons as well as takeout. No, apparently they do not. Oh, and I’m excited to mention that for the very first time I had dessert at Hill Country! I mention this accomplishment because normally I’m so full off collard greens, pork ribs, lean brisket, corn pudding and hot german potato salad that there is just no room available for ball jar banana pudding, lemon icebox pie, Texas sheet cake or pb&j cupcakes. I know… my Dad is hanging his head in shame for me admitting this. Sorry Dad. I’m a Bisbee, I should be built for dessert. But this place is so good, I fail and fail happy. But this time, I saw they had a lemon/lime tart and so I had to make it happen. And it was amazing. So I popped a button on my shirt. I’ll buy a new one. And maybe I’ll swing by Target for that shirt. And while there I’ll pick up a container of sweet, sweet Tang. Who knew.Cheers, Ben
Permalink Boozy Rootbeer FloatThis week is insane. And I’m 3 firstdrink posts behind so this post is going to be quick and dirty. Enjoy.Ok, so yep, you read the drink right above. A boozy rootbeer float. It’s a shot of Jägermeister, a shot of Stoli Vanil vodka, over a scoop of vanilla ice cream and then fill it to the top with traditional rootbeer. I found a variation of this recipe on Pintrest.com and immediately knew I wanted to try it.  So as I was heading off to the Blue Banana for the weekly Yappy Hour last Thursday, I emailed Jamie in advance and asked if he was willing to make it. He was totally game and picked up a gallon of ice cream and a two liter of A&W.As you can see above, the drink was absolutely awesome looking and tasted even better.  Exactly like a rootbeer float with a slight kick.  As I’m sure you’re wondering, yes, the Jäger melds into the drink almost seamlessly. Its cold and refreshing. A perfect summer boozy drink. I’m not sure if it’ll make the Blue Banana special drink list, but I can promise you that if you bring in a scoop of ice cream and some rootbeer? They’ll serve you up one proper. And trust me when I say, it’s worth it. On a side note, a friend told me that if I’m officially trying to sneak liquor into typical drinks, I’m clearly losing my “virgin” status. He suggested changing the name of the blog to the “35yo Alcohol Whore”. Ha. I won’t deny that I’m far from a virgin now, but I ain’t no whore. At least not until I do something from an ice luge, funnel, or perform a keg-stand. Then we’ll talk.Cheers, BenPS: Come one, come all and bring your dogs out to June’s Charity Yappy Hour this Thursday from 6-9pm. And we’re excited to announce that we’re changing local charities and starting this summer we’re proud to be supporting the Washington Humane Society who is going to work directly with us to help promote the event and bring out some pet-loving supporters! 20% of the night’s proceeds will help support local animals! We hope to see you out this week!
Permalink Jameson & GingerGin & Tonic3 Olive Vodka’s Loopy(Wine, Sex on the Beach and Champagne)Part 2 of 3S+J Wedding WeekendThe day of the wedding. A day of joy, a day of celebration, a day of beauty and a day when I tempted my liver’s fate and had 6 different drinks in one night. 3 firstdrinks and 3 repeats. I’ll explain the repeats later.IT. WAS. AMAZING.Shana tends to think of everything, she’s amazingly detail oriented. The ceremony itself was stunning. The entire event was at the historic Cleveland Arcade a landmark building from 1890 that was the first indoor mall of it’s type. It’s literally not only one of the most beautiful places in Cleveland, it’s one of the best anywhere of it’s kind.It was a traditional Jewish wedding complete with the ceremonious breaking of the glass, beautiful song-like chanting of prayers and scores of loving family and friends. Well, that last part isn’t inherently Jewish. But you get the picture. Just as the ceremony was over, Jason and Shana shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and then quietly disappeared for a while alone, while the rest of us all went down into the lower level of the Arcade where the action was taking place.You know, I love weddings. My preference is either a raging tragic trainwreck set to “here comes the bridezilla” or I want to be wowed.I got wowed.There was a photo booth with props, a candy bar filled with sticky, gummy, chocolate, sugar, crunchy candy in the colors of the wedding—blues and purples—an impressive cupcake table, small tables filled with childhood and teenage photos of the bride and groom and their families. Then there was some of the best wedding food I have EVER had. Stations for everything: a handmade crabcake station, a chicken & waffles station, a full salad and specialty cured meat and cheese station and …drum roll please… a mac & cheese chef-made-to-order station complete with choices of leeks, bacon, mushrooms, peppers and a whole host of cheeses. A MAC & CHEESE chef-made-to-order station complete with choices of leeks, bacon, mushrooms, peppers and a whole host of cheeses. Go ahead. Read it again. I know you want to.I need a moment.     Ok, thanks.And then there was a full bar—yep, we’re getting there—a thumbprint tree for guests to add their thumbprint-leaves on a wedding tree piece of artwork and dancing, dancing, and more dancing. The whole thing was beautiful, warm and wonderful. And Shana was stunning in her wedding dress. She looked like she was floating on a cloud the entire time. A cloud with adorable hidden pockets, mind you. Jason looked dapper as hell in his navy suit and never stopped smiling the entire time. Jason knows how to smile, certainly, but seeing him beaming at every moment during the reception just made the entire night shine. Alright, so I started the night—right after the ceremony—by having my firstdrink of Jameson & Ginger. I asked the lovely bartender what she would want to drink and that’s what I got. It was really nice. I love me some whiskey bourbon and Jameson seemed the sweetest of the bites I’ve has so far. The ginger-ale gave it some sparkle, a touch of extra sugar and a nice kick of ginger heat and spice.  Whiskey and gingerale are honestly made for each other. I believe this. LOVED this drink.Then there was wine being poured at the table. It was a mild white wine, a touch dry, lightly sweet and tangy like the wedding was amazing. I’m not a huge white wine fan, but I finished the glass. It was a wedding and all.Next up was a gin and tonic. I’d been waiting for this drink for a while. I LOVE tonic. I have mixed feelings about gin. I still have mixed feelings about gin. It’s just too pine-tree’ish for me. I wanted to like it. I swear. It just tasted like someone poured pine-sol into my delicious tonic.  Oh, I’m sorry tonic. I’m sorry.Remember, it was a wedding. So there was a serious of touching and funny toasts by the parents, Best Man and Maid of Honor and of course it came with a champagne toast. Ah, a repeat of my firstdrink ever. And much like that one, it was just ok. The toasts were great. The drink was ok. Too dry. Just too dry. So while dancing was taking place, I strolled up to the bar again and asked the other, younger bartender what kinda drink she would have if she was drinking tonight. And she giggly poured me a Sex on the Beach. Yet another former firstdrink from blogpost past.  It was as good as the last one, dreamy, kinda creamy, sweet, tropically fruity and delicious.  Certainly worth repeating. Dancing, dancing, more dancing—much from the upper 2nd level bridge over the dance floor, but dancing nonetheless. And then I finally caught back up with the Bride & Groom. Shana grabbed my arm, “Have you had any of the fruit-loop flavored vodka yet?!”“Ha, no not yet.”“Jason, grab some cups, let’s do this.”Jason quickly grabbed some coffee cups and we strolled across the dance floor and to their table where a tall bottle of 3 Olives Loopy was waiting, 1/3 still full.  I poured the three of us a few shots and down they went.Like freaking fruit-loops! Fiery, tasty, sharp, delicious fruit-loop liquor. Apparently you can add a touch of cream and it’s just like breakfast. For alcoholics. But still breakfast, I suppose. I’m not judging. It was delightful. 6 drinks. 3 firstdrinks. 4 hours. New record. Shana, I hope you’re pleased. For most of the other guests, it might have been a drop in the bucket, but for me, it was an epic event.As was the wedding. Beautiful building, beautiful wedding, beautiful reception, stunningly beautiful bride, smiling groom. Oh and that food. PEOPLE! A MAC & CHEESE chef-made-to-order station complete with choices of leeks, bacon, mushrooms, peppers and a whole host of cheeses. Go ahead. Read it again. I know you still want to.Cheers, BenPS: The whole event ended with brunch the following morning and an afternoon baseball game. Oh, and 2 more firstdrinks. One was terrible. One was majestic. You don’t want to miss Part 3 of the #WeddingWeekend adventure as I draw this firstdrink madness to a close.
Permalink DC MuleIt’s Joey’s Birthday! And thus, the beginning on a few firstdrink posts highlighting some special drinks with my husband to celebrate his arrival on earth. This first drink, actually was one I let him pick for me at his Birthday dinner.But let’s get started a little earlier in the day, shall we?  Yes, we shall. Now I’m a good husband. Oh sure, I’m mouthy, and goofy and overly-opinionated and sometime like to dance in public, thereby embarrassing my husband to no end, but I’m still a damn good husband. So the day started with me making Joe funfetti pancakes with blueberry syrup while he slept in.Yeah, you read that right. And yes, he’s turning 31. Shut your face.And then he opened a few Birthday cards from me and the cats. Again, shut your face. And then we both got ready for work.I had flowers delivered to his office, a dozen roses in different colors called the “rainbow assortment”… wait. Ok, you can open your face. That one was a little on the nose. But I don’t care, they are beautiful and colorful and it’s his birthday and I wanted people to notice. But yeah, I’m starting to see the trend too. Damn.Anyway, once work was finally over, we had a little time on our hands before his Birthday dinner with the Cousins at Graffiato, Top Chef’s Mike Isabella’s place.We decided to pop into the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery/American Art Museum to see the Art of Video Games exhibit. It was this really cool instillation of video game history, artwork and multimedia programming.Of course it was filled with awkward teenage tour groups and anxious parental chaperones pushing each other around to play the demos while pointing and laughing at Pong, but whatever, it’s DC, you get used to that kinda thing. If you live in the area, it’s a cool little exhibit. Joe’s a big gamer, so it was cool to go and to see how tasteful and thoughtful yet playful and interactive they made the exhibits.  Plus, even if you’ve only ever played even Tetris, you’ll be able to appreciate it’s place among great works of modern game art like BioShock, Flowers and Mass Effect. Very cool stuff for art lovers and nerds alike.And then it was on to Graffiato. We hadn’t been—shame on us—but we felt like everyone else in the city had, including the Cousins a few times over. And I’m a big Mike Isabella fan from back on Top Chef and he just seems like a funny, nice guy. Plus, if you’ll remember, he’s famous for his peperoni sauce. Of which we had some. When they finally figure out how to mass produce that and sell it, I’m buying a few gallons and to bathe in. Judge if you may, but it’s happening. So Graffiato is a cool, rugged Italian tapas restaurant. Or “small plates” as they introduce themselves. Having nothing to do with the deliciousness and quality of the food, I’m a bit over small plates. Both the moronic explanation always given by the wait staff “Oh, so the plates are small, you say? 3-4 plates a person, you say?” to the literally smallness of entree. I want more lobster and mascarpone risotto, damnit! Ok, quick side note: Tonight was Joe’s actual Birthday, but tomorrow was his big Birthday BBQ at our place. I knew then that  I was going to have at least one drink—his favorite beer, Blue Moon—so tonight I let him pick for me a firstdrink instead on his actual Birthday. After scanning their drink menu for something fun, he settled on an original, a DC Mule. Now, I’ve been wanting to try a Moscow Mule for a while now, in all it’s ginger beer-laced glory, so having a DC Mule sounded awesome. And thankfully, it was.Ok, a little fun history for you fellow Mule virgins. Also sometimes called a Buck (instead of a Mule), these are names for a family of historic mixed drinks that involve ginger ale or ginger beer, citrus juice, and any of a number of base liquors. Moscow Mule is a well known favorite made with ginger beer, lime juice and vodka.Simply made with ginger beer, Vodka 14 and grapefruit juice, the DC Mule, however I assume packs a bit more punch in the grapefruit juice/ginger combo. Both bitter with a solid slap to the jowels, grapefruit and ginger are a nice combo but they’re no joke. The spicy poke of ginger, tang of grapefruit and smooth vodka placed nicely together but were still solidly bold and layered in their own special assaults to the senses.  The beer side of the ginger beer was quiet, but the ginger was not. It was spicy, adding its own heat to the mix. Peppery, earthy, and spicy. And then the vodka added it’s own nice burn in the back of the throat. It was the right kind of adult soda/cocktail flavor combo. It was delicious, kind of a weird departure from other cocktails. Not overly sweet, not overly fruity, but like gave me several things to taste and enjoy sip by sip. And it was authentic in it’s natural ingredients, making everything played together nicely, but letting them stand on their own too. Like, they were this great band, but the ginger definitely got it’s own drum solo, if you catch my drift. The food was also great. I think we ordered about 15 different things off the menu—small plates, remember—and there wasn’t a single item that didn’t get devoured. Shout outs to the Roasted Cauliflower, Cured Ham Plate, Risotto and White House Pizza. I’ll be back for you all again someday soon, don’t worry.[I only have one suggestion for Chef Mike and Graffiato: offer larger plates of the best-of’s AND a jar of peppered honey for the table. I’ll even pay for the honey, I just want the option knowing how well it paired with several of the meats and pizzas.  Damn, that honey.]Then Joey decided we should skip the idea of small plates dessert and go get Birthday milkshakes. So we walked over to the Häagen-Dazs for shakes and sundaes to round out the evening. As is Birthday tradition with the Cousins, they paid for the whole dinner in honor of Joe as we do in honor of either of their Birthdays when they come around. Its a fun, simple tradition and gives us a chance to often try new places together, which we love to do in the District.  So huge thanks to them for a great night!Ah, Birthday firstdrinks and time spent with the husband. It’s always a good thing. The big love-letter to Joey is coming tomorrow for the Blue Moon blog… so be looking for that. I also tried a diet’rita a new friend made me that I’ll be talking about too. So lots of fun stories and drinks ahead, you’ll just have to be patient. Until then, Cheers to Joey’s 31 years and Cheers to you as always, Ben
Permalink Sex on the BeachThere is something you should know about me that might help you understand this project—and my last drink choice—better: I virtually have no shame.I have some. A little. Very little, however.I used to have even less, believe it or not, but my husband has displaced some of his shame onto me.  It was honestly my doing, this shame inheritance. I used to do things like spontaniously start dancing in public, like at Borders or Target or on the street and he’d die a little inside.Or I’d just start randomly talking to a little kid in a grocery cart while waiting to check out. Like he was the one shopping. Like I’d be asking a 2 year old if they like that brand of bread. Or what they were planning on doing with 7 plantains. I find these things fun and funny. And I am fully aware they are normally just funny to me. Or at least less funny to the people around me, who are letting themselves start to wonder if I’m slowing losing my mind. Just keep wondering, suckers.Point is, that I didn’t take this crazy little alcohol project on to not try every drink available to me. One might argue that Sex on the Beach is an awkward drink to order if you’re not already a little tipsy, have on a mini skirt and partially showing leopard bra, surrounded by a group of giggling girlfriends and it was your 2nd choice over an Appletini or Chocolate Cosmo.Eh, I don’t care. I like to sing while I’m jogging. In public. On the National Mall. Sometimes it’s Jay Z and I don’t always censor myself.So, yes, I ordered my first Sex on the Beach down at Rocket Bar in Chinatown. Rocket Bar is this large basement bar that’s kinda modern looking for the early 2000’s and has a vast selection of drinks and beers and space and nothing else. It’s a party bar, no food, loud music, lots of room for drunk patrons wanting to gather, shoot pool, throw darts and drink the night away caring less about windows or time.We were actually at Rocket Bar to visit our friends Amanda and David, who moved to NYC a few months back and were blowing through. We only just got to know them before they moved and seeing them again reminded us that we’d like to try and spend more time with them. Amanda is a fan of the blog—got bless her—and was excited to witness me having a firstdrink in person. And come’on, I didn’t want to disappoint with something boring. Amanda is far from boring herself as a little ball of lightning; I felt like I needed to rise to the occasion. So, when I strolled up the bar and asked for my drink, the bartender did act like he couldn’t hear me the first time. Hand to his ear, implying I ask again. “I’ll take a Sex on the Beach, please.“  And then I got the eye roll. I know that eye roll. There is a legend that often my presence and subsequent goofball behaviors created the eye roll. (see, I bet you just rolled your eyes… don’t lie.)And then I watched him make it. Vodka, Mellon vodka, grenadine and a splash of pineapple juice topped with a thick slice of orange and a cherry. When he put the cherry in, it was almost an act of passive aggression. Like he had forgotten the cherry at first and then remembered and then feel strangely obligated, but irritated. It was amusing. I thanked him and he just kinda grunted under the music in the background. I’m not going to lie, the drink is damn good. It’s sweet, almost buttery, fruity, light on the alcohol flavor and mild in it’s sting. On one hand it’s not a thrilling drink, but it’s not boring with it’s beachy flavors and vibe. The melon was a great flavor, as was the pineapple juice. The combo made a kiwi-strawberry kinda aftertaste with the grenadine. It’s a little too muddy to be crisp, but it’s got a nice finish and I could have easily had another.I mean, look, I said it with my buttery nipple shots post, it’s not all going to be craft beers and Old Fashioneds.  There are going to be Pink Squirrels, Mint Juleps and Pina Coladas too. I’m even planning on an Appletini, no doubt. Did you say “purple hooter?” Yep. And a Blowjob, and lord knows what else. I’m doing it all. Why wouldn’t I?  My Red Bull and vodka post should have been a red flag warning if nothing else.Ah, but all in good time. It’s not even June yet, I’m only 4.5 months in, you know. So much drinking ahead. So much embarrassment for those around me. You just have to be patient. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have an entire phone conversation on the toilet or maybe head over to Baskin & Robins for a few dozen samples of ice cream on those adorable little pink spoons.  No, that’s gross, just kidding.I’m totally going to go to funeral and giggle through it. That’s way more my style, frankly. Cheers, BenPS: Tonight!! Tonight!! Yappy Hour at the Blue Banana from 6-9pm, bring your dogs and your thirst.  I’ll see you all there.
Permalink Sea BreezeThank god for pho. Have you ever had it? Its a traditional Vietnamese noodle soup, usually served with thin slices of beef and thin rice noodles and is served with basil or cilantro, lime, and bean sprouts. Its one of the greatest soups on the planet. I should note that the distinctive broth for the pho is generally made by simmering beef bones, oxtails, flank steak, charred onion, charred ginger and spices including a sweet and savory five spice blend. For a more intense flavor, the bones may still have beef on them and it takes hours to make, sometimes 24-48 hours.It’s highly delicious and kinda complicated. And I say “thank god for pho” because I was having it with Joe and my new friend from work Nicole while I was drinking my first Sea Breeze. Have you ever had a Sea Breeze?  It’s vodka, cranberry and grapefruit juice. That’s all. Vodka. Cranberry juice. Grapefruit juice. Can I take a moment? Thanks. I think I’m becoming a drink snob. Or maybe not a snob, but I’m just not enjoying vodka as much as others seem to. I feel the same way about vodka as I do about tofu. It’s fine. And in some dishes, it’s a nice texture and all, but it’s boooooooooring. So so so very boring. I get it, part of both vodka’s and tofu’s appeal is that they kinda take on the flavor of the items they’re mixed with but they still do their job: drunkenness/meat replacement. [yawn]And I like both cranberry and grapefruit juice and all, but again, booooooring. So the Sea Breeze was perfectly fine, but it just didn’t do much for me. I felt like I was having less of a firstdrink Adventure and more of a drink from the faucet. I’m starting to realize that I really like more powerful alcohols: bourbon, whiskey, tequila, and gin. Spirits with flavor, spirits with personality. Drinks that can’t help but remind you that they’re in your glass. Some of the flavored vodkas are alright, I suppose. And I know there are some drinks I’ll be having that the general flavor profile will be great and the vodka will be doing it’s job. A Creamsicle/Orange Crush, for example. But in the meantime, some of the drinks are making the classics list, but aren’t making my favorites list.I will say that Pho DC on H Street NW does know how to make a solid drink. The Sea Breeze was far more vodka than juice, and I’m assuming that with a drink like Sea Breeze that’s the point. It was perfectly tasty and had a nice burn, but since I wasn’t getting drunk, I could have spent just a nice of a time with a cola. But again, props to Pho DC and their bowls of pho are some of the biggest and best in the city. And props to my friend Nicole who was being introduced to pho for the first time. She’s been a great work friend and is quickly becoming a great outside-of-work friend. And I’m grateful for that. I like my friends like I like my drinks, colorful and full-flavored with a bit of edge.  Cheers, BenPS: In case you’re wondering “So Ben, did you go with a Mint Julep for the Derby or something Mexican for Cinco de Mayo?”  My answer would be neither. Thanks to a stupid headache. Don’t worry, I’ll make them up. But it did suck ditching out on two traditionally alcohol-influenced events. Sorry for that.
Permalink Red Bull & vodkaWhen preparing for any event you happen to be hosting, one must consider the environment necessary for success in both the setting and your level of engagement. For example, if you’re hosting a delightful garden party, make sure to consider a actual garden setting complete with bright flowers at each table.  As for your level of engagement it should be easy and breezy, but grounded in solid, topical conversation.  So avoid politics and general items of an unsavory nature. Researching topics such as the flora and fauna of Begonias and the behavior patterns of fireflies are great places to start, however.Now, if you’re hosting a Halloween party, this calls for an entirely different set of circumstances.  For instance, make sure the setting is filled with fun, yet spooky touches: cobwebs on the lampshades, a rich red punch in a proper bowl with frozen grape eyes to cool the drink. And your level of engagement should again meet the needs of the party. Remember to stay topical, but not of an inappropriate nature; talking about bewitching spirits is fun, talking about your dead Aunt Leslie’s grisly murder is not. Are you still with me?  Wonderful.I had my first Red Bull & vodka on the Adventure.As you may recall, I had the Yappy Hour at the Blue Banana to host with about a dozen dogs and several dozen humans. So basically I needed to make sure I was properly prepped for my required level of engagement, if you catch my drift.Last month’s first Yappy Hour was a great success with tons of dogs and their owners but, getting around to all of them was no easy feat. Big dogs and small dogs alike all needed a warm welcome and a belly rub while their owners needed their own welcome and some casual conversation. By the end of the night, I was excited but exhausted. 2+ hours of heavy petting wore me out. So this month, I was determined to be better prepared. And since this time around we extended the event by an hour, I really needed to up my hosting game.I’m not going to lie, I’m calling this drink a “modern classic” to try and class it up a bit in my own head. I’m not suggesting that just because people like Jersey Shore celebrities, college frat boys and Midwestern cheerleaders pride this cocktail as their drink of choice I’m embarrassed to have had it—hell, I have a Pink Squirrel on my Adventures List—but I am suggesting it’s a very specific drink in pop culture.It should also be noted that before this Adventure I’d never had alcohol, I’d also never had Red Bull. I’m hyper enough on my own, thank you very much. Why would I add fuel to a blazing forest fire of crazy? [People who personally know me are quietly shaking their heads in agreement this very moment, I assure you.]But you want to know what I thought of the taste don’t you? I want to first point out that when I asked Jamie, the owner of the Blue Banana for a Red Bull & vodka he looked me right in the eye with one brow raised and said “Reallii…. you know? Ok. No problem.”I could literally see his brain go: What? No. Wait. Oh this might be good. Yeah, let’s do this. All in a 3 second span. So quickly in fact, that he actually started searching for just the right glass knowing I was going to take one of my pictures. I was clearly pushing his amused button on this firstdrink choice. Ok, look, it tastes like shitty cough syrup and vodka. There is no other way to put it. Back in college I remember reading this “cutting edge” article in the Daily Kent Stater about how drinking certain cough syrups to get high was sweeping the teenage nation. (Much like how doing the same with snorting bath salts or drinking Purell is today, I guess.)I remember at the time thinking “Really? Those cough syrups?! They taste like shit. Maybe Dimetapp Grapevine won’t get you high but it’s delicious!”  Again, alcohol virgin here. I know.Anyway, am I asserting that the general demographic that might find drinking Robitussin DXM to get high is the same people that might like Red Bull & vodka as their drink of choice? No. Of course not, no. I’m inferring. Its totally different. Ok, so it’s a fairly simple drink. Outside of it’s cough syrup qualities, it’s sweet, tangy, had this mix of cherry/orange flavors but not in that more tasty fruit punch quality, sadly. The vodka was there, lending it’s ever-so-slight jet fuel flavor and alcohol smack.It’s lightly carbonated and for the most part goes down pretty smooth. But I wouldn’t say I loved it by any measure. It was fine. But I didn’t keep holding the glass up to the light and saying, “Ahhhh, that’s some good shit.”And it did help for the Yappy Hour, I might add. In fact, it had my heart rate up so high I was chasing my own tail too by the end of the night. I didn’t get drunk, but I was feeling at 110% Hummingbird-level, talking and petting, talking and petting. That is until the crash came when I lost the energy to beg for treats and I wanted to spin and spin in circles until I finally curled up in a ball to go to sleep. But no, I had a happy hour to run even if the last hour was a bit rough. So I guess that I get why people crush so many RBVs… yeah?! Right?! Did you see that?! The virgin is learning the lingo, am I right?!  For those of you who don’t know, I just impressed a certain level of my readers. You’re welcome.And for the rest of you, don’t worry. I will never, ever have a Red Bull & vodka again. Promise. Now, a Red Bull & Jäger?  Well, I have to have a Jägerbomb on the Adventure, right? Of course I do. Cheers, BenPS: Thank you, thank you to all the folks who were able to make it out to the Yappy Hour in April. The Blue Banana and I are planning for a whole summer of event around the Yappy Hour events supporting the Washington Animal Rescue League including a Christmas in July event. Be looking for details for those events coming your way soon!
Permalink Cool Cucumber (Bloody Mary)Some of my very favorite things on this earth have often been instigated by a random act. I can name a dozen nouns I cherish that’s placement in my life boils down to one single moment of judgement or a rare one-off. That said, there are also things I’ve always gravitated to since my earliest memories. Certain thing I’ve always seemed to love and look for. On one of our very first visits to DC to enjoy a visit with our cousins, Joe and I had some free time and just decided to wander around the Columbia Heights area. This was several years back. Columbia Heights was still in it’s up-and-coming phase. We were hungry. (Although, saying we “were hungry” is like saying “water is often wet.”) And enamored by being in the city, we didn’t want to eat anywhere we could go in Ohio. And then we stumbled upon The Heights. Yeah, I’m talking to you, Chipotle & Subway.Knowing what we know now, The Heights was fairly new to the area, having just opened a few months earlier. But for us it was local, unique, original. Plus, it was the middle of a week day, so they were able to seat us immediately. I think we literally ordered 4-5 things off the menu because everything sounded so good: buffalo shrimp, ginger calamari, handmade burgers, chipotle chicken sandwiches. And because we’re human we didn’t add too much more on our plates, but we did in our heads. We already knew we’d be back.And to that note, we have been back. Probably 30-40 times since moving to DC. (And if you follow either Joe or I on Facebook or Foursquare, you know this to be true).And we’re also foodies, so just ask anytime and we’ll send you a list of our very favorite restaurants 30 names deep with suggestions, best-ofs and things to avoid. So when I say The Heights is one of our very favorites, we have much to compare it to, its not just a creature of comfort thing. Its as real as true.Look, its simple: they nail just about everything they offer. From their house-smoked meats to tofu & green curry, handmade lamb burgers to fried brussel sprouts w/ horseradish, everything is pretty much spot-on perfect. And—I cannot stress this enough—no one in the District can poach an egg with the level of perfection and consistency as The Heights. When god was handing out egg poaching skills, the Chefs at The Height clearly stole more than their fair share.They also have a very expansive, ridiculously customizable Bloody Mary menu.  So from the very beginning of planning the Adventure, I knew this is where I’d be having my first Bloody Mary.As I said at the beginning, some things I’ve just always liked, always looked for. This would be true for most of the non-alcoholic ingredients of a Bloody Mary: tomato juice, lime, salt&pepper, beef broth, vinegars. All flavors I love in any setting.So, I decided to avoid ordering a classic—I have that planned with my good friend Jason W.—and ordered one of their Bloody Mary signature cocktails, the Cool Cucumber. And once again, The Heights did not disappoint.  Their Cool Cucumber Bloody Mary is a mix of cucumber vodka, tomato juice, lime juice, bloody mary mix, rimmed with seasoned salt and garnished with skewered cucumbers & cream cheese. Yes, please, thank you. It was like a rich tomato juice that was dragged through the garden, only spicy, garlicy, and peppery. I could taste the mild alcohol flavor in the background and it mixed well with the drink’s beefy notes, touch of fishy notes. And the finish was richly tangy, with a sloppy tomato bite. The rim added a nice salty, spicy mix to the drink and the skewers of cucumber and cream cheese were amazing crunchy, creamy additions to my few last sips of the drink. Some sort of Bloody Mary had been in my sights for some time now and it was everything I had hoped it would be. In fact, it has just won the best brunch drink category I just made up in my head right this minute. Congrats Cool Cucumber!Suck it, Mimosa & Pimm’s Cup. And, on a related note I had a smoked pork, cheddar grits & spicy tomato sauce Benedict for brunch while at The Heights too. Everything was damn good—including complimenting my Cool Cucumber nicely—down to the always perfectly poached eggs. As always, I’ll be back to The Heights soon enough. If they’ll keep cooking comfort perfection, I’ll keep them high on my list for a few more drinks on the Adventure and then some. Cheers, Ben
Permalink Just behind the virgin one can see a giant, fat hand—not unlike the virgin’s own—bopping him just slightly on the head. Note the shocked look the virgin displays. His only saving grace is the healing properties contained in kaffir lime-infused vodka, fresh lime and nectar from the agave plant he is slowing enjoying.We wish the virgin well in his adventures, may they be big, small, or contain 5ft high flames from a few blocks of cheese. No, seriously. Read the blog, it’s all in there. And something about gays being able to marry and feeling “normal”… its all in there. That virgin sure can talk.*click the photo if you dare. IF YOU DARE.
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Vodka Gimlet


The Marrieds. That’s what we call ourselves. No really. Yes, I wish we were more creative too, but all in all it’s accurate.

In short, we’re a group of 4 sets of friends who are all married and half of each couple knows each other from work. The group have been planning for a proper outing for months now and last night it finally it all came together.

Outside of the actual friendships, the whole idea is just a fun, silly little thing for everyone I suppose. And setting up dinner with multiple sets of friends and couples is nothing new to me.

But, to be frank, for a gay guy from Ohio, being part of a group—who I adore—called “The Marrieds” is nothing short of a blessing wrapped in a dream, and deep fried in awesome.

Joe and I have been together for 8 years now. And while our weekday elopement here in DC back in July was a surprise, our intention to marry was not. Other than falling in love with the District, we were also excited to know that marriage was legal here for homos gentleman like us.

For my entire life, all I’ve ever wanted is to feel normal. That or become Batman, but that one’s probably never going to happen…  And Joe makes me feel special & normal all at the same time. [Insert Robin joke? Nah.]

For me, wanting to be married with the person you love is normal. And getting married is normal. So in short, being part of a fun set of friends who who call themselves The Marrieds and like to spend time together, go out eating, drinking (someday dancing?) is the epitome of normal.

And just so we’re clear, being/feeling normal does not mean I’m not a bouncy, goofy, inappropriately wise-cracking, mouthy smart-ass kid inside. It just means I found someone who wants to share the rest of life with me regardless.

Now, whether that makes Joe normal is a whole different story, I agree.

So, The Marrieds went to Cava Mezze on Barracks Row on a packed Saturday night. Cava is a Greek-inspired small plates restaurant well known for their great food, service and inventive drink menu. And it’s like a fast moving show within a restaurant—the wealth of servers run the tables taking orders, dropping off orders, filling drinks, making suggestions, oh, and setting cheese on fire with 5 foot flames. Seriously. It’s all pretty awesome.

The drink menu had some fun stuff on it, but I was looking for something was a bit more standard, classic. I settled on a vodka gimlet called the Kaffir Gimlet made with Kaffir Lime vodka, fresh lime and agave nectar.

Lime. Lime, lime and more juicy, tart, lime. The gimlet had a smack-you-in-the-face alcohol bite that was complimented by the lime’s bright, bitter sting. It was sweet, but not cloyingly, thanks to the agave nectar that helped sooth the drink on its finish.

It wasn’t a complicated drink in flavors or profile, but it was fantastic. Every sip filled my sinuses and glands with a welcome, striking sting—like when you try hot sauce or yellow mustard and it seizes your senses, but in that good, makes you feel, kinda way.

In short, have you ever doused a lime with alcohol, set it on fire and then tried to drink the juice? No? Well if it sounds like a challenge, it probably is. So, I would instead suggest Cava’s Kaffir Gimlet.  No seriously, sure it sounds scary, but it’s simple, delicious yet visceral—if you’re into that sort of thing.

On the menu side, Cava’s food blew our doors off. There wasn’t a single item we all didn’t devour, or want to order again. Their staff is smart, attentive and quick. And their drinks are creative and delicious—as agreed by all of The Marrieds.

I will be back to Cava again. Hopefully soon. Not just for the firstdrink opportunity—they make a cucumber-habanero margarita that sounded like fun—but for the service and about 30 additional small plates I want to try.

You know, in the end, I am a believer that being part of groups and experiences that make you feel whole and normal is important. That said, pushing yourself, trying new things and taking risks—often while surrounded by solid friends and family—is also important.

These days, thanks to my friends, family, Washington, DC and Joe, I’m able to lump all these things into one big long adventure. Seriously? It might not be your normal, but it’s my dream come true.

Cheers, Ben

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kamikaze

Dear reader who’s been drinking alcohol longer than 1 month,

What I am about to divulge is not going to blow your mind, I can promise you, but I’m going to say it anyway: shots are quick. I mean like—BAM!—and it’s gone.

I’m telling you this because it will explain why I broke my own rule of “1 drink only of any said drink” and had 2 kamikaze shots. Stay with me.

Joe and decided to meet up with some good friends at Nellie’s Sports Bar, this really fantastic gay, legitimate sports bar with several floors of bars, solid food and some fun entertainment options.  We had dinner in the dining room and then went up with our friends to their well-stocked upstairs outdoor terrace.

[Should I elaborate on the whole gay-sports-bar thing? I know some readers will be like “is that possible?! blah blah something ignorant blah” Eh, it works and is a great asset to the gay and general community. I’ll think more about challenging stereotypes later when I have the interest and energy]

Joe ordered us each a kamikaze shot. If you’re unfamiliar, a traditional kamikaze is vodka, triple sec, and fresh lime. I sampled a bit of it with my finger—it tasted like a limeade. And then after some cheering from my friends, threw my head back and downed that shot like I had seen so many others do so many times.

I tasted lime. It was cold, sweet, had a slight alcohol burn… and then it was gone.

I was kinda sad.

So I ordered another.

Yes, yes, I know. I warned people early in my sangria blanca post that I might break my own rules some day. And so, the first break came on the 13th drink. That seems appropriate. 

I figured, they’re tiny. So very very tiny. Two seems more appropriate for shots and, hell, for the second one I’ll really be able to taste it so I can describe it.

Ok, second shot, same drink: I tasted lime. It was cold, sweet, still had that slight alcohol burn. It was certainly tangy… and then it was gone again. Ha.

Damn. But I guess that’s just the thing: shots are just these tasty little throw-backs to the throat and then you move on to the next one or the next drink. I can absolutely see how you can do shot after shot and then quickly become sloppy-shit-faced-hitting-on-the-coat-rack drunk (not to name names). Before they can get sloppy, they’re a lot of fun.

But yet again, I personally didn’t feel anything—drunkwise. I’m starting to think I’m too fat superhuman. It’s like I’m 230lbs 17 years old all over again. I’m invincible!

So, yep, that was it. We talked about work, DC, the general bar scene, shared a few drinks and then went home. Your basic extended happy hour. Much like the shot itself, it was a pretty fun and quick evening.

Wait… you know, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I didn’t break any rules after all! No, you know what? Instead, what happened is that I just made a new rule: every firstshot gets two tries. Yep, that’s clearly a new rule. Nothing broken.

I’m so damn smart. I’m invincible!

Cheers to Chuck our bartender and Nellie’s for a great happy hour. And the Adventure continues!

Cheers, Ben


PS: Next up? I’m probably having another drink before the weekend—who knows what. Then I’m finishing the week by having some cocktail-of-choice at a friend’s Birthday dinner in Annapolis, MD on Saturday.  And then I’ll kick-off next week with a New Castle during the Super Bowl.

PPS: Did you see I’m having a charity #firstdrinkHappyHour in February? No? You better check it out and then plan on attending!

Permalink And here is the all-proving candid photo of my first vodka & soda, complete with info-arrows helping explain the setting. Enjoy. Full blog post: http://35yoalcoholvirgin.tumblr.com/post/15509826250/vodka-soda