Tagged With happy hour

We humans have shockingly malleable tastes. Studies have shown that we are more likely to prefer something if we think it's expensive (even if it isn't). It stands to reason, then, that a cocktail costing $1,611 should be roughly 80 times more delicious to me than any I've ever purchased for myself. So, when Trader Vic's asked if I wanted to try their extremely limited-edition tipple, of course I jumped at the chance. Verdict?

"Two Southern Classics, One Legendary Taste," is the marketing language emblazoning every bottle of Cheerwine Kreme, the unholy combination of, well, soda and doughnuts. While Krispy Kreme has graced the tastebuds of us Yankees for some time now, Cheerwine remains uniquely Southern. I'm not from the South, and something tells me the marriage of two foods known for being unhealthy will end in tears.

I was in a quandary the other day when serving drinks on a cold evening. Every cocktail I considered was fruity and frivolous -- not appropriate for dinner guests huddling in depressing post-time-change darkness. Then I remembered: Liquid antibiotics.

Vinegar is probably the last thing you'd think to reach for when you want to make a refreshing drink. But with a little sugar, a handful of past-its-prime fruit, and about a week in the fridge, vinegar can transform into one of the most complex, mixologist-approved flavours to ever grace your cocktails.

It's Sunday morning. Probably. You're disoriented and the inside of your mouth has been replaced by arse-flavoured shellac. The full weight of last night will soon come rushing back to you, and you need enough hair of the dog to qualify as taxidermy in order to steel yourself against the impending nausea.

There's nothing quite like sipping a spiked meal in a glass. So when Few, one of my favourite distilleries, offered to send me something called "Breakfast Gin", I got a bright idea. Why not whip up a batch of refreshing Bloody Marys?

The internet has been my gateway to a lot of confusing, upsetting, and offensive stuff. But lately the thing that's caused me the most revulsion has been a photoset of someone pouring tequila into a mason jar full of Flamin' Hot Cheetos. "How much do you have to hate yourself to do this," one of the post's replies read. Buddy, you have no idea.

Everybody knows it: Weed makes you hungry. Smoking a bowl sends you searching for snacks. Hitting a spliff leaves you craving all kinds of candy. Ripping a bong gives you the munchies. We don't know why. Science is getting close though, especially after this week.