My sister can attest that I’m on a serious gin and tonic kick. She hates gin and I spent our uncle’s birthday plying her with gin and tonics.
“Do you want a gin and tonic?” I asked her, already making one.
“You know I don’t like gin,” she said, already irritated.
“Just try it…” I wheedled.
“I’ve had gin and hate it!” (I continue squeezing limes, ignoring her clearly deranged logic).
“Here’s your drink!” I cheerfully announce, forcing the solo cup into her hand.
“Fine!” She snatches the drink, takes and angry gulp, scowls and says, “Not bad—happy?”
The answer is a resounding “YES!”
This loving exchange between sisters would not have been possible without the winter storm that knocked out the power for a week, the fact that I lived on a steep hill and couldn’t get down because of the scary ice, and a neighbor with a well stocked liquor cabinet (this post is dedicated to YOU, Leann and Zach!) While my family had a wood fireplace, oil lamps with lamp oil (important to have with the lamps), a working propane grill, and lots of food with the great outdoors serving as our refrigerator and freezer, we had neglected to keep our liquor cabinet stocked. Some may say it’s because we drink too much and can’t keep it stocked fast enough. Some may say it’s because we barely drink at all and so we forget to stop at the liquor store. We don’t need to go into detail about who is right and we know who our friends are when referring to “some people” because they probably helped create the deficit in the first place. Whatever the mystifying reason, we were suddenly declared a dry county.
So, with a happy heart we accepted the invitation to sup with the neighbors and they didn’t disappoint. In fact, every time we visit the neighbors they have consistently handed us a drink. On this dark and frozen evening they greeted us with amazing food that included homemade teriyaki pulled chicken and grilled vegetables with rice. The food was great but we’ll really remember how we were treated to snowy gin and tonics with Drumshanbo Irish gunpowder gin.
I was initially disappointed as I’m usually a Scotch kind of girl. Prior to this encounter I would have gladly joined my sister in abusing the bottle of gin. This stuff, however, was heaven! The juniper berries rang clear and muddled about with hints of gunpowder green tea and peat, all dancing a jig with a well squeezed lime. It was like I had died and gone to a tangy, slightly sweet heaven. I made “yummy, yummy noises,” as Young Dr. Frankenstein would say, and downed that drink with so many praises and compliments that our amused hosts gave me the last shot.
I have been an annoying gin pusher ever since and demand that my husband make me these drinks regularly (because a drink someone else makes tastes better - everyone knows that). This is the gin we drank to excess:
Please don’t mock my attempt at a professional photo. A potted plant is the most practical and natural place to store your gin.
“But,” my husband said…”what if we were mistaken about other gins?” I knew there was a reason I married him! While I no longer “believe” in formal marriage (I’ll blog about it someday - I promise) I do recognize the fact that I need my husband to share in my more indulgent tendencies. He also makes a good roommate and is cleaning the kitchen as I type. And we also share kids, sex, and fun stuff. I’ll keep him. No one wants to figure out who owns what records or scratched dvds anyway. The books, we know, are mine. But I digress… It was time to see if this wonder-gin was an anomaly or if we had been ignoring an entire line of delicious hard alcohol for no reason.
So we also drank this Crater Lake South Sister Gin:
Sooo professional. Fuck. Why can’t my sister take these pictures?
Which was also good but not AS good. This other gin had a really nice juniper taste but I missed the mellow tea flavor to hit mid pallet making the trip down to my belly smooth and refreshing instead of slightly bitter - if that makes sense.
Thank you for reading my booze review. Obviously, I have no idea what I’m doing but I’ve never let that stop me.
“Honey - I love you - make me a damn gin and tonic. Chop, chop!”
