Liquor In The Lemons: A Rye Sour

If you are paying attention to the phytoplankton in New York City, you might notice that, deep under the water, we’re seeing the first signs of Spring. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Then again, I just took a walk in the park and it was 19 degrees Fahrenheit, so what the fuck do I know. Ah, February. The month of bitter cold and occasional snow—and Valentine’s Day, but I am absolutely not making you a red drink, I just won’t do it. I’d rather focus on the phytoplankton and give you something that combines my favorite winter liquor (whiskey) with my favorite warm weather citrus (lemons). Enter the Whisky Sour.

Now keep in mind, a Sour is simply a cocktail that combines sour citrus (lemon or lime) with some sort of sugary-sweet thing (in this case, simple syrup). It’s one of those three-ingredient cocktails and it requires no bitters whatsoever, so this is a perfect one to memorize and have on hand. Near about every bar can make it and serving sours to folks who come to your home is easy-peasy. It’s basically the bread and butter of cocktails. You can have any kind of sour you like, so feel free to mix it up. Prefer Gin? Rum? Just sub the whiskey out. Prefer limes? Rock on with your bad self. OR! Go truly nutter butters and use BOTH lemons and limes. AT THE SAME GODDAMN TIME! Mellower sweet? Maple syrup instead of simple syrup. Crazier drink? Whip up a flavored simple syrup. Basically what I’m saying is know your basics, like a solid three-ingredient-sour, and then you can improvise right on top of that! Ready?

What You’ll Need

• some kinda whiskey. I’m using Rittenhouse Rye. It’s more traditional to make a whiskey sour with bourbon, but you guys, I just really like rye.

• a lemon! You’re gonna juice it AND ALSO use it for garnish

• simple syrup. Yo, lookit the cute little salad dressing container I keep my simple syrup in (detail shot below)! I love cute bar ish.

• a shaker! Whenever fruit juice is involved, that means shaken, not stirred. Also a strainer, but probably that goes without saying by now, you cocktail experts, you!

• a rocks glass

First, if you don’t happen to have simple syrup sitting on your bar, it’s very easy to whip some up! It’s a 1-to-1 ratio of sugar to water. Put that water in a pot and bring it to a simmer. Dump the sugar in and keep it simmering until all the sugar is dissolved. If you’re using white sugar, it’ll go much faster and be clear. If you’re using demerara sugar, I find it to require a bit of stirring and time—also your syrup will come out a gorgeous rich brown, a little like maple syrup. Let that cool a hot minute.

In the meantime, juice your lemon! Now normally, I would say cut your lemon length-wise to maximize juice. But! We’re gonna cut it width-wise, across it’s little lemon belly, because we’re also going to cut a coin out of it for garnish. You’ll need about 1 oz. of lemon juice.

Fill your shaker half full with ice and throw 3 oz. rye whiskey into it. Follow it up with your 1 oz. of lemon juice and 0.25 oz of the simple syrup (I know, you made a whole batch for 0.25 oz., but that’s why store the rest of the simple syrup for later!).

Shake your concoction vigorously, making sure nothing important is behind you, like priceless art or human people. Never forget the time that I sprayed my whole entire self with grednadine while doing the whisky workshop at A-Camp. Learn. From. My. Mistakes.

Strain the drink into a rocks glass. Cut a coin from the half of the lemon you didn’t use and garnish it. Place in front of a David Bowie Cat print by Danielle V. Green, photograph it and then drink it.

Just kidding, you don’t have to photograph your drink. But if you do, share the insta please, we can all be sour together!

Things to Bring Your Friends for Their Bars (That Won’t Break the Bank)

This whole post got borne out of a question I got asked through the A+ inbox and we all felt like it could use a little elaboration: what do you bring your alcohol-enthusiast friend when bringing them alcohol just isn’t in the budget? You know that friend, we all either have that friend or are that friend — the one with the bar in their house, or the dedicated cabinet or the one who spends, like, six minutes per glass on garnish alone. That friend is a good friend to have. They often open their homes to help make up for some of the dedicated spaces closing; and having a cocktail in a living room is always a more monetarily sustainable option than going out. Plus, if you don’t drink, your alcohol-enthusiast friend will almost always have the ingredients to whip up a fancy soda with limes and syrups and such. Thank the alcohol-enthusiast friend. Be kind to the alcohol-enthusiast friend. Give back to the alcohol-enthusiast friend when you can. Here are a few ways to do so without breaking the bank.

Bar Supplies

You’d be surprised at the amount of bar supplies that are wee tiny additions and people don’t effing buy them for themselves because it’s not a priority. But a few well-placed, eight- to fifteen- dollar accessories make for a smoother home bar process, and if you choose something that’s not consumable, your friend will think of you every time they use it. I didn’t buy an atomizer ($7.90) for literal years, and it’s a game changer whenever a recipe calls for a rinse. A bag of pour spouts ($8.99 for 12) is just as good as bringing a bottle of wine and it lasts longer.  I literally also have never bought myself a receptacle for my own simple syrup ($12.88 for two) and other longer-lasting homemade ingredients, and let me tell you, I kick myself EVERY cocktail hour I throw. And if you’re okay bringing something consumable with alcohol in it, your friend might not pick the weird bitters up in favor of old standards that they use a lot—pick the strange bitters ($11.38 for Fee Brothers’ Rhubarb) for them so they can experiment with new flavors!

Books and Paper Goods

Alcohol nerds love a good read. The Savoy Cocktail Book ($9.99-$19.95) is an amazing resource full of classic recipes from the ’30s. Grabbing up The Drunken Botanist ($9.15-$11.99) ain’t a bad call, either. Alcohol nerds also love a good notebook, so get them one specifically for tastings for their fave kind of alcohol (whiskey tasting notebook from 33 Books, $5 for one, or $12 for three). Recipe cards ($10 for 12) are also PERFECT for the queer who’s making up their own shit—keeping track is often hard among all the experimentation.

Make a Syrup

Budget even tighter? A home-made simple syrup with an ingredient you already have lying around in your kitchen might be just the thing! The basic proportion for simple syrup is equal parts sugar and water, simmer until all the sugar dissolves. Just a quick search through Saveur provides a ton of recipes and inspiration to take it further with stuff you likely already have on hand: mint, rosemary-clove,  black pepper, cardamom or cinnamon. Just make sure you’ve got a jar to give the gift in and you’re golden!

Favorite Recipes

Listen, if the budget is even tighter, for the price of a cool index card and the ink in your pen, you can give your bar friend your very favorite cocktail recipe, be it one you made up yourself, one you chatted the bartender into giving to you or one that your family is known for. If you don’t drink, I guarantee your friend would LOVE to hear about your favorite non-alcoholic mixed drink or scrumptious soda concoction; and hey, that makes it even more likely that their next party features your fave as an option. My favorite thing to receive as both an alcohol and a baking enthusiast is a recipe I would not have otherwise gotten a chance to try (if anyone has a good recipe for Icelandic Kleina, please send it to me!). You don’t have to break the bank to add to the bar—your knowledge is priceless.

Liquor In The Winter: A Cardamom-Orange Martini

It is fifteen goddamn degrees outside. Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit! Fifteen. Degrees. Going out with friends or my wife or just, like, leaving my apartment at all? Out of the question! Nope nope nope! This month, folks came to me instead of freezing our butts off in a cold bar somewhere and I made them Cardamom-Orange Martinis. Which seems like a weird choice, but I promise it’s not.

I will tell you, though, that I’ve used two pretty special ingredients for this one, ones that you might not already have lying around your kitchen. Here they are—

Virginia Woolf candle not required, I am who I am.

The first is gin from Standard Wormwood Distillery in Brooklyn. My wife and I ran into them in December at the Bust Craftacular and as soon as we sampled their wares, I had the idea for this cocktail. This particular distillery uses wormwood in most (all?) of their products — and before you think this drink is gonna make you see some green fairies, I’d like to give you one of my most popular fun facts! Though maligned and banned in this country for a good long while, wormwood (one of the herbal tastes in absinthe) is not and has never been hallucinogenic. The wine industry just did not like how popular absinthe was getting, so they spread some rumors mean-girls-style. If you drink and you enjoy alcohol, alcohol with wormwood listed as an ingredient isn’t going to behave much differently than what you’re used to. Anyhow, what I’m saying is you COULD make this drink with your favorite gin. But I made this cocktail SPECIFICALLY for this gin. So if you have the means, I highly recommend giving this one a try. It’s gentle, herbaceous and tastes like someone’s witch-aesthetic Tumblr distilled (I mean that extremely positively).

The second is Scrappy’s Bitters in Cardamom. Our own Dr. Lizz got these for us (thank you Lizz!). They don’t come out super frequently, but when I have a drink that calls for them (like this one!) there’s no substitute. They taste like warmth, even when you’re using them in a drink with ice. Perfect for January.

So now for the complete list. You will need:

• 3 oz gin (Standard Wormwood or your fave)

• 1 oz dry Vermouth

• 1 dash orange bitters

• 1 dash cardamom bitters

• orange peel for garnish

• rosemary sprig for garnish

• a big ole ice cube because heck, it’s 15 degrees outside, why not put a giant ice cube in your drink TO MATCH YOUR SOUL

• depending on your glassware, you’ll need a mixing glass. For instance, if you’re using a martini glass like I have pictured, you’ll need something else to mix in. But if you’re building in a tumbler or a red wine glass (both acceptable and both of which I’ve done! Just be fancy so you feel nice!), there’s no pesky glass shape to hinder you; feel free to build that sucker right in the glass.

See, we dried a bunch of citruses to make garlands and it was entirely too much citrus, like we just didn’t need that much garland, but now I just have a really pretty butcher block? Oh, no, drying citrus has nothing to do with this recipe but gosh darn, doesn’t that make a pretty photo.

In your mixing glass, dump the gin and the Vermouth over ice. Add a dash of the orange bitters and the cardamom bitters. Stir quickly, putting your bar spoon between the ice and the glass and trying not to knock it around too much. You may notice that I have no photos of the middle bit this time — turns out when your drink is clear and your light is low, mixing this looks like nothing on camera.

See what I mean? Clear drinks are super hard to photograph. Tastes real good, though!

Strain into a martini glass with a big ole ice cube in it. Peel a bit of the orange peel and spritz into the drink with it. Rub it against the edges of the glass and throw it right on in there. Grab a sprig of rosemary and chuck that on in there too. LOOK HOW MUCH YOU DON’T HATE WINTER! IT’S AESTHETIC! YOU CAN PRETEND THE TREES AREN’T STICKS AND YOUR EYES AREN’T FREEZING TO THE INSIDE OF YOUR EYELIDS!

I Almost Set Myself on Fire for this Maple Rye Old Fashioned

Friends, I was in a liquor store with a friend buying a completely unrelated bottle of something or other when I saw it. Hudson Whiskey puts out a maple rye that I previously knew nothing about.

via Tuthilltown Spirits

If you’ve ever had a drink with me, you know that I have strong, positive feelings about rye whiskey. It’s often a little spicier, a little sassier than bourbon. And if given the choice of American whiskeys, I will choose rye literally every time. I have been made fun of for this before—rye has not necessarily been in vogue, and has, in the past, been considered a drink for old curmudgeonly men. But hot damn, I love, love, love it. It’s complex and gorgeous and delicious. I feel the same exact way about real, honest-to-goodness maple syrup — one of the great treasures of breakfast food. I look for excuses to put that shit in everything. So imagine my utter fucking delight to head back to the liquor store and purchase a bottle of Hudson’s Maple Cask Rye. Wherein Hudson Whiskey sends barrels to a Vermont maple syrup producer, who ages and seasons in the whiskey barrels, and then sends them BACK TO THE DISTILLERY wherein Hudson Whiskey ages a rye in them.

First I tried to make my standard Manhattan with it, and while it was good, it didn’t really allow the chance for the maple to sing. I blame sweet vermouth for this. So back to the drawing board—what would showcase this beautiful new creature with which I was mixing? Enter the Old Fashioned—a drink so deceptively simple and so uproariously tasty that it should be a standard for your average queer cocktail enthusiast. It generally consists of only three ingredients: rye, sugar and bitters. That’s all, folks! It’s even built in the glass for minimal cleanup. But given that I wanted to create this drink as a ring box for my new rye, I figured we could fancy it up a little.

Enter the idea to set an orange on fire without the proper tools at my disposal.

You will need:

• Hudson Whiskey Maple Cask Rye
• Sugar and water OR a premade simple syrup
• Angostura bitters
• an orange
• better matches than I had OR an unscented tea light WE WILL GET TO THAT IN JUST A HOT MINUTE
• the will and/or stupidity to light those matches extremely close to alcohol
• a bar spoon

First, if you don’t have simple syrup already made, go ahead and throw half a cup of water and half a cup of sugar into a pot and bring it to a simmer on medium heat until the sugar is completely dissolved. Stir occasionally for faster results. You will know when you are finished when your liquid is clear-ish with a slightly sweet brown tint to it. Set it aside to cool.

Once your syrup is reasonably room temperature, grab two large ice cubes and stick them in a tumbler. Measure out two ounces of whiskey and add that to the glass. Throw in a quarter-ounce of simple syrup and two dashes of angostura bitters.

Slip your spoon between the ice and the edge of the glass and stir whilst trying not to make a really ugly clinking noise. Depending on how many drinks you have had previously this evening, you may have little success. Just try not to crack the ice.

If this were a standard Old Fashioned, you’d serve it up exactly like this or you’d spear a cherry for garnish. BUT WE ARE FANCY FOLKS. We’re going to play with flames.

Cut a coin out of your orange such that you’ve got peel and pith, but not actual orange meats. It’ll look like this:

Light a match and warm up the orange coin. Realize that your only matches are made for lighting cigarettes and that they are way too small to move to the next step. Burn your finger. Accidentally char an orange coin. Throw the match away, realize you have forgotten to run it under water, consider pouring water into your trash can. Contemplate your failure to properly prepare. Wonder if meditation is teaching you anything about being more present in the moment.

Cut another orange coin and thank the universe that you read your tarot cards every morning and have literally one hundred unscented tea lights in your linen closet. Procure said tealight. Use the insufficient matches to light the tea light. Warm up the new orange coin and marvel at how you can see the light through it and wow, isn’t that pretty? Then hold the tealight close to the rim of the glass and squeeze. Watch as the flame flares up. Feel like one of the witches in Practical Magic. Realize that there’s a new one of those books out and it focuses on the aunts, who are clearly the best part. Rub the orange coin around the rim of the glass so the flamey oils get all over it, then drop it into the drink unceremoniously. Photograph your triumph on the queerest bookshelf you own and serve your Old Fashioned.

If you don’t have Maple Cask Rye, just sub out the simple syrup for maple syrup and HOT DAMN THERE YOU GO.

Let’s Make Cheese Boards and Never Leave the House Again

Look we both know why you’re here — cheese board inspiration and camaraderie — but let me get something out of the way first: cheese boards are the chillest eating-related thing you can endeavor to achieve on this fine planet. Who knows what chill things await us on Mars, but as far as Earth goes, it’s cheese boards. Let’s embrace that chill.

There is no wrong way to board cheese. There are varying degrees of fanciness, yes, and of ease, ambition, selection, and balance, yes! But none of these degrees are wrong. Is there cheese on a board? Then you’ve made the perfect cheese board, friend. No cheese on it? Not a cheese board. Hey, call it a snack board instead. Problem solved.

Today I’m taking you through the basics of boards, sampling four entire mix-and-match board situations, sharing my reasoning for choosing the things I chose, giving a bunch of personal cheese board feelings, and including some recipe suggestions in case you feel like truly giving yourself the life you deserve. (ALSO THERE’S A THING FOR VEGANS IN HERE I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that yet.)

Board Basics

Generally speaking, you might hope to include the following types of foods:

Briney (olives, marinated artichoke hearts, caperberries)
Fruity (jams, literal fruit, the wine)
Fresh (arugula, finely shredded cabbage, grapes, apples)
Fermented (the cheese, pickles)
Hard (crackers, bread sticks, nuts)
Soft (roasted vegetables, onion jam, the cheese)
Salty (smoked fish, nuts, cured meats)
Sweet (chocolate, shortbread cookies, honey)

You’ll notice lots of those categories overlap and yet the world spins madly on. When it comes to your cheeses, one popular rule of thumb is Something Old, Something New, Something Goat, Something Blue. You could also go with Soft, Hard, Funky, Mild. Or even something like Safe, Weird, A Different Color, Rolled In Something.

If you poke around the internet looking for cheese board ideas, you’ll quickly realize that everyone seems to agree on at least one thing, which is that an ideal selection of cheeses clocks in somewhere between three and five. Ok fine, but also? Fuck what the man says. If you want to put two or six or 20 cheeses on a board, do the damn thing. Want to pair them willy nilly with whatever the hell you have in your kitchen? Want to spend hours at the market choosing items that will perfectly complement and balance each other? Darling, yes. Find your destiny.

What are you serving this on? It truly doesn’t matter because it’s going to be amazing, but I like to serve single/two-person boards on an olive wood slab or in a shallow pasta bowl. If I’m setting up a grazing station, I like wood cutting boards or marble slabs.

You’ll also need some cheese knives for self-serving and, depending on what you’re offering, individual spreaders and forks for each person so they can deal with everything once it’s on their plates.

All of your artistic sensibilities or the lack of them will come out to shine when it’s time to arrange your boards, and that’s GREAT. Everything is fine! Some people arrange things by the potency of the cheeses from mild to wild. Or maybe you like a bountiful haphazard feel, where it looks like the board itself just erupted with food. Or you might want to do a minimalist approach where everything is kind of sectioned off and organized by complementary flavors. Do it all! Try everything.

I like to add a pile of greens to every board. Arugula is peppery and textural without being watery, and even though it wilts slightly after a while, it’s still not mushy or embarrassing. Fresh baby spinach and baby kale also hold up.

Eat the rind! Unless it’s wax.

Definitely try new things! Like pickled vegetable varieties, interesting crackers, different cheeses obviously, and every kind of smoked thing you can find. Try everything. People say “just experiment!” and maybe you roll your eyes but honestly, JUST EXPERIMENT. Almost everything you’ll read about food is either an opinion or a suggestion and nothing is in stone. Do anything.

Bread vs Crackers

The question that keeps you up at night: bread or crackers? And if bread, toasted or simply warmed or altogether untouched? Sliced thick or thin? Ripped into chunks?! What KIND of crackers??!

I say go with bread if you want a chewy, filling deal that begs for soft cheeses and any dippable side item. Slice it, brush it with some olive oil and give it a quick light toasting, or wrap an unsliced portion of bread in foil or parchment and put it in a 325 degree oven for 10+ minutes for a softer thing you can rip apart with your hands. Go with crackers if you’re looking for a super low-maintenance affair that does well with all cheese options. As for types of crackers, I support any decision you might make here.

A Cheese Board for Wines

Yes there are certain cheeses that pair perfectly with certain wines, that is true. I love a fresh goat cheese with a rosé; an extremely funky brie with a cabernet sauvignon; a sharp hard cheese like aged cheddar with a sauvignon blanc; um, those are my three favorite kinds of wine to drink, so that’s my whole repertoire when it comes to the basics. I don’t know if these are the Officially Good Pairings and I don’t care. Also, if you scrambled all of those cheeses and wines around and blindfolded me, I would still have a great time and so would anyone in their right mind because cheese + wine = mhm yes. So again I say GO CRAZY or GO BY THE BOOK just GOoooo to the cheese store and have fun wheee!

The Cheeses

Syrah Soaked Toscano: Like a mild parmesan, and the syrah soak gives it this sort of spiced sweetness right at the end.
Cambozola Blue: An entry-level blue that’s buttery and earthy.
Camembert: A mid-level situation for brie fans looking for something new. Funkier than any entry-level brie, but not as funky as the funkiest brie, but also not without its own, solid funk.
Chèvre: Fresh plain goat cheese. You can roll your own in anything you’d like, including Everything Bagel spices??!

The Other Stuff

Rosemary Flatbread Crackers
Seeded Multigrain Crackers
Chalkidiki Olives: I prefer my olives with pits because it gives me something to do and I think they taste better.
Grapes
Macadamia Honey: I think honey goes well with any cheese but maybe I’m wrong, maybe you can find me a cheese that tastes worse with honey. Like, maybe there’s at least one?
Cranberry Sauce: So, so good with all the earthiest cheeses because it’s tart as heck.
Pecans and Almonds: Raw nuts are great, so are roasted ones or smoked ones. All nuts are welcome here.
Glazed Bacon: I meeeaaaan… come on.

A Cheese Board for Beers

Yikes there are also Officially Good Pairings for cheeses and different types of beers that I could spend time researching, but I tend to stick with the very simple idea of having all the things that I’d normally eat with wine. My favorite pairing is the grapefruitiest IPA I can get my hands on, an extremely sharp aged cheddar, a mustardy mustard, and a light airy cracker. Anything else I could add to that lineup would just be gilding the lily but look at me here, gilding away!

The Cheeses

Sharp Aged Cheddar: Sometimes a paper-thin slice is more fun than a thick one. Let your heart be your guide.
Camembert: This went so well with the onion jam (recipe below) that I almost cried.

The Other Stuff

Rosemary Flatbread Crackers: This is what I had on hand (because I bought them for the express purpose of this post) but I would’ve loved a salty stoneground wheat cracker with the cheddar.
Seeded Multigrain Cracker
Chalkidiki Olives: I’d skip an herb-marinated olive for a beer pairing, but don’t let that stop you from living your dream.
Bar Snack Brussels Sprouts Steeped in Olive Oil and Fish Sauce: I usually go for roasted sprouts but wanted to try this recipe from Gabrielle Hamilton, queer chef and owner of Prune in NY!
Smoked Turkey: Leftover from holiday cooking and a natural bff for the cheddar.
Apple Slices
Roasted Sweet Potatoes: A properly roasted vegetable is still delicious at room temperature, so go crazy.
Bacon Candy and Curried Pecans: Aaaayyyyy the recipe calls for cashews but I used what I had and I don’t regret a thing.
Dijon Mustard
Fig Jam
Red Onion Jam: Didn’t realize I’d fall in love with an inanimate savory jam but here we are. If you’re serving this particular onion jam, provide your guests with tiny forks so they can get a better handle on all the divine onion strands YES I SAID DIVINE instead of globbed spoonfuls. This goes really well with soft cheese on a multigrain cracker with a pile of trusty arugula.

Personal Cheese Boards

Ok, cheese boards are widely revered as an easy party pleaser, but lo, hark, what about this party of one? This party of YOU. A personal cheese board is something you deserve, with its careful arrangement and customized variety, and its love. Hot damn! Yes! You have done a good or difficult or boring or harrowing thing at some point in your life and now you’re entitled to an evening alone with your own exclusive cheese board.

Autumn Board for One

I incorporated seasonal fruit and scattered around some leftover fresh sage. You could also include seeds, rosemary sprigs, apples — whatever’s calling your name. The Wild Mushroom Pate recipe is so easy to make, and so damn delicious, you’ll need to lock yourself in a room and scream about it. This board is vegan except for the dark chocolate!

Anytime Board for One

A super simple setup focusing on one cheese and the accompaniments that make it a star. Caperberries pair so well chèvre that it’s crazy. Instead of getting a hit of herbs from crackers or cheese, I went with marinated artichoke hearts.

You’re up! Tell me everything you’ve ever wanted to say about cheese boards. Also, all queer cheesemongers are officially asked to share autumnal and wintery cheese recommendations please! If you’re looking for more cheese feelings and pairing ideas, Cheese Sex Death has you covered, including this Trader Joe’s Cheese Guide that I bet you could get some use out of.

7 Bar Games To Make Your Holigays Merry and Bright!

Click here for Holigays 2017

One of my favorite things about this time of year is catching up with friends and family. There’s love in the air and warmth in every hug. Everyone seems to make just a little more time to say hello. You catch up with people that you haven’t seen all year. It’s a joyous, magical time.

Do you what helps facilitate all of those things? Booze.

Ugly Christmas sweater parties, friendship reunions, bar crawls, cookie baking jamborees, spending time with your cousins in grandma’s basement while the “real adults” cook upstairs — these are all situations in which alcohol may occur.

Sometimes holiday drinking opens up a whole set of problems. You are often working with a larger group than you would be at other times of the year. That group may include people that you know well and haven’t seen in a while, or people that you don’t know well at all. And even if you are partying with friends, you may find yourself wanting to do something a bit more celebratory, anything to get out of your usual rut. What can you do to that’s a bit different than your usual, keeps the group together, and allows everyone to have fun?

That, my dear friends, is where drinking games can enter the picture.

I’m a vet of holigay drinking and I have complied my vast, deep knowledge for your benefit!

The games listed below cover a variety of group sizes, from as small as two people to as many as your heart desires. They can fit into a variety of spaces, including cramped public bars. Along those same lines, many of these games are designed to not make too much noise (no more than what’s already acceptable in spaces that cater to large groups of drinking adults, that is) and require very few outside skills or supplies.

Bookmark this list on your phone, send it to your friends in your group text. Be the hero who saves The Holigays! (Or at least, be the hero who kicks your party up a notch!)

This next part is super, super important: Always remember to drink responsibly. Respect your boundaries, and respect the boundaries of others. If you are drinking outside of your home, please try to be aware of your surroundings. Oh! And don’t be the obnoxious person at the bar. No one likes that person.

Let the games begin!

1. Twelve Days of Christmas (or The Eight Nights of Hanukkah)

Here Are The Rules: Gather in a group. The first person begins by saying — or, if you’re really brave, singing — the first words in the classic holiday tune, only they substitute the whole “partridge in a pear tree” thing with they something they would personally want their true love to give them.

For example, “On the first day of Christmas/the first night of Hanukkah my true love sent to me: An exclusive party with Queen Bey.” After that, the next player would say something like, “On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me: Two flannel shirts, and an exclusive party with Queen Bey.”

Keep going through the song until someone messes up. Continue past twelve if your group gets good at it. Don’t forget the big pause before your “Fiiiiiive Golden Rings!” knock off! Whoever messes up, takes a drink. And then you start over with a new person and a new itemized list.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: Nope

How Many People Are Needed For The Game: At least three or four, to keep it interesting. But the group can get as large as you want.

2. “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”

Here Are The Rules: Write a bunch of holigay prompts on slips of paper (this part can also be done before you leave for the bar). Examples might include: A mug of hot chocolate, a lesbian couple ice skating, a Christmas tree, and so forth.

Then fold over the paper so you can’t read the clues, and pile them together in the middle of a table. When it’s your turn to be the artist, you’ll take a prompt from the pile and draw it on a pad of paper/a bar napkin/etc. while few other members from your group try to guess what you’re drawing. Have someone use the the stop-clock on their smartphone as the timer for up to one-two minutes, the group can decide the time ahead of game play. The catch is that when people guess, they have to yell out: “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like…. [Insert clue here]”.

If the time runs out before someone guesses, then the artist has to take a drink. If a person correctly guesses the clue, but they forgot “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like…” then they have to take a drink.

If the artwork is so indiscernible that the group votes that no one had a chance of figuring out out, then the artist takes a shot.

This is essentially drunken Pictionary with a holiday twist.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: Pens, paper (bar napkins can work), a smartphone, a table top, and elbow room

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: At least three; an artist, a guesser, and a time keep. Ideally this works with three to six people, more than that and some people will be left bored.

3. Would You Rather/Most Likely

These are variations of the same game, so I lumped them together for our purposes. I’m also rounding up to rank them high on the drinking scale. If your friends are anywhere near as competitive as mine, you’ll find that after a few rounds they start wording questions that are custom tailored to make you “lose” and drink on purpose.

Here Are The Rules: First, everyone clusters together enough so that they can hear each other.

For “Would You Rather” a person throws out a suggestion of “Would You Rather.” For example, “Would you rather give up oral sex for a year or give up pizza for a lifetime?” You know the drill, it’s a game as old as time. The difference here is that after everyone in the group answers, the people on the “losing” side of the answer — whichever answer had the least people — all have to take a drink. Then another person asks the question and you keep going from there until everyone is good and sloshed.

For “Most Likely” a person throws out a question such as, “Who’s most likely to be brave enough to ask Kristen Stewart on a date?” or “Who is most likely to eat someone else’s food without asking?” Then, on the count of three, everyone points to the person they believe is most likely to do whatever act was mentioned. You have to take a drink for everyone who is pointing at YOU. So, if five people think you are a food stealer. You need to take five big gulps. If only one person thinks you would woman up and ask K-Stew on a date, you get to take one gulp. And, so on.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: Nope.

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: At least three? For “Most Likely” it’s helpful if the majority of the group knows each other.

4. Tell Me A Story! (True or False)

Here Are The Rules: Write down various nouns on pieces of paper (this part can also be done before you leave for the bar). When it’s your turn, select a piece of paper. Then, tell a true story about that noun or make up one up completely.

For example, if your piece of paper says “suitcase” then you might tell the story about the time your suitcase got lost in the Denver airport and you were forced to wear a “Kiss Me in the Mountains” sweatshirt while meeting your girlfriend’s parents. Or you might make up a story about having your carry-on suitcase opened by TSA and living through the mortification of having the agents go through your sex toys in public. You could also make these holigay themed if you wanted to.

Everyone listens to your story and guesses if it’s true or false. If the majority is wrong, then you win and they drink. If the majority is correct, that means that you lose and then you have to take a drink.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: Nope.

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: Two or more. This game scales down or up exceptionally well.

5. Slip It In

This one is great if you are going to be bar crawling or at a holiday party for a long time, particularly if the people you are partying with have solid memories.

Here Are The Rules: Before your group gets together, brainstorm a small list of “slip it in” phrases for the people who are coming to your party. These are phrases that they’ll work to “slip in” to casual conversations. The phrases should be a bit tricky to make sound casual, for example: “Gryffindor,” “Almond Milk” or “Shiver Me Timbers.”

When your guests arrive, go over the phrase list together BEFORE you start drinking. The goal is for each person to slip one or more of phrases into conversation over the course of the night without anyone noticing. If they are successful and no one notices, they get to call the group on it and everyone else has to take a drink. If they are caught using the phrase, then they have to take a shot.

The game never stops. This is kind of game you play in the background while you are playing other games. You play it while your friend is flirting with that cute girl in the corner. You keep it going all night long.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: Nope.

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: The more the merrier! But, this can be easily pulled off with just two people.

6. I’m The Witch!

Here Are The Rules: Everyone sits around a table with a shot in front of them. Players begin the game with their heads down on the table. On the count of three, everyone looks up and stares at another player at random. If you are looking at someone who is NOT looking at you, congratulations you are safe! However, if you end up looking directly into someone else’s eyes, you both shout “I’m the Witch!” and take a shot.

Keep going until all the shots are gone.

This game has a few names, I’ve seen it also called “Medusa” or “Lucky Ducky.” I’m sure you could give it a cute holigay themed name if your heart desired, but I like the classic “witch” phrase.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: You need enough space for everyone to have a seat and a shot, so essentially a full table and chairs.

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: A group larger than four.

7. Kings and Queens

Here Are The Rules: Kings is a classic bar game with a lot of variations. It’s fun; it’s guaranteed to bring joy and take up a lot of time, but fair warning this is not for the faint of heart.

You start with a deck of cards (leave in the jokers, take out the instruction card that seems to come in every deck). Shuffle the cards twice and then fan them out, face down, on a table. Everyone gathers around the table.

On each turn, a player picks up one of the face down cards. Then that person follows the action associated with said card (Keep a list of the directives handy on your phone or a piece of paper!). At the end of their turn, the player keeps their card.

The game continues until all the cards are drawn.

Now that we have the basic set-up covered, here are the rules that I usually play with. Feel free to adjust them to better fit your party’s needs (i.e. less drinking or more drinking, changing phrasing or directions, etc.). It’s infinitely adaptable. Your only limit is your own imagination!

Card Directives:

• 2: You – Whoever drew the card decides which friend takes a drink by pointing to them and saying “You!”
• 3: Me – Whoever drew the card, takes a drink.
• 4: Floor – Everyone races to touch the floor (Let’s be real, bar floors are super gross. Touching the table will more than suffice). Last person to touch the agreed upon surface, drinks.
• 5: Alive – When have you felt most alive? What’s a thrilling, dangerous, adrenaline filled story from your past? Share with the group! Can’t think of a story or feeling shy? No problem, but now you gotta drink.
• 6: Kiss – Tell the story of a memorable kiss. First kiss, Sexiest kiss, Worst kiss, etc. To embarrassed to tell the story in public? That’s ok, you are among friends who will not judge. Your anonymity is safe, but you have to take a drink.
• 7: Heaven – All players point to the sky. Last person to do so, drinks.
• 8: Mate – Pick a partner to drink with. Whenever you have to take a drink, so will they. This continues until the next Eight card is drawn.
• 9: Rhyme – Say a phrase. Everyone goes around saying a word that rhymes with that phrase. First person to mess up or pause, drinks.
• 10: Categories – Pick a category. Everyone has to say a word that matches that category (i.e./ famous out actresses or childhood crushes or even “types of ketchup”). First person to mess up or pause, drinks.
• Jack: Never Have I Ever – Each person puts up three fingers so that the table can see. Starting with the person who drew the card, each player says “never have I ever [insert thing you’ve never done here]”. If you’ve done it, put a finger down. First person who has all three fingers down, has to drink.
• Queen: The ruler of her land! She can decree a rule that everyone must follow until the next Queen is drawn. Example, a queen could decide that a player must take a drink between turns. She could decide that every player must link pinkies or keep a finger on their nose. That every five minutes someone must belt out a little Britney Spears at the top of their lungs. The world is The Queen’s oyster!
• King: Big Drink! Finish whatever is in your glass; go get another one.
• Joker: Tell a joke – When I’m with my friends, we usually make it “Tell a dirty joke”, but you should feel free to do you! If no one laughs, you drink. Can’t remember a joke? You drink.
• Ace: Human Wave – Starting with the person who drew the card, every player begins drinking. You cannot stop drinking until the person after them starts drinking.

Do I Need Extra Supplies: A deck of cards, enough space for everyone to sit and also reach the cards on the table. Folks should be comfortable, you will be playing this one for a while.

How Many People Are Needed For the Game: One of the best things about this game is that it fits your group size, not the other way around.

OK! Get a group together, get out into the world, and have some fun! Play all the reindeer games!

Have a great time, take some pictures, and think of your crew here at Autostraddle. We only want the best for you this Holigay Season!

Let’s Decant With This Decanter, It’ll Be So Fancy

I have been blessed with a collection of decanters in all shapes and sizes, and all for different purposes. My aunt gave me a couple, my friends have given me a couple here and there as well. The result is an impressive amount of glass in a small New York City apartment, and a very impressive-seeming home bar to boot. Sure, some of those decanters are made for wine, but a lot of them are made for liquor. Specifically for brandy, whisky or cognac. It’s that second category I’d like to talk about today, the day that I’m going to clean and fill a decanter and show you how to do that. And why to do that.

Why Use a Decanter?

When you’re decanting wine, the answer is obvious: some red wines change significantly when you let them breathe outside the bottle and their taste changes for the better, and any sediment present during the bottling process is left in the bottle. Those decanters are the big-bellied sort. The decanters made for liquor generally make me feel like I’m in a Jane Austen novel and look somewhere in the family of this:

That’s the one I’m going to clean and fill today, in fact. Why decant whisky? Well, the truth is, if you put a twelve-year bottle of whisky into this decanter and let it breathe for an hour, a day, a month…it’s still going to taste like a twelve-year bottle of whisky. Once whisky’s out of the barrel, it doesn’t change. So why do it?

Well, I can tell you why they used to. It was vulgar to pour directly out of the bottle. Totes “lower class” (vom). Or! If you really wanna get classist about it, a tantalus, the device shown below, was apparently used to keep “servants and younger sons” out of the fine whisky. It locks so only the person with the key can flip the front and open the decanters.

But I can tell you why I do it: Using a decanter feels like tucking my favorite distillations into a fine bed. It makes my bar look awesome. Decanters are not just for Don Draper and fictional TV presidents! We can treat ourselves sometimes. We can have a gorgeous decanter that makes us feel nice and put our favorite whisky in it and share it with our friends.

How To Clean a Decanter!

It looks more intimidating to clean a decanter than it actually is! Because decanters are a) thin-necked and b) often delicate, much ado is made of getting them to sparkle from the inside out. But I am here to tell you that you need only two things and a sink. And those two things are:

Salt and vinegar, like potato chips. Rinse the decanter first to get any remaining liquid out, then pour a teaspoon of white vinegar in. Fill the rest with water and let it sit for a hot minute. Then pour it out, and fill the bottom of the decanter with salt. Then VERY VERY CAREFULLY shake the decanter. That’s right. Shake it. The salt is abrasive enough that it’ll residue out of nooks and crannies, but not abrasive enough to scratch your decanter. When you’re finished, pour a little more vinegar in and fill the decanter with water. Dump it all out and rinse a few times. This will result in a squeaky clean decanter, ready for filling.

In this case, I’m going to fill with:

Actually one of my campers is visiting my city right now and brought me this whisky (HI ABBY THANK YOU!). I figure I’ll give it a nice, nice home in my decanter.

Beware of Leaded Crystal!

But wait, why aren’t I filling that tantalus? Hold your horses, folks. When you’ve got antique crystal, likely you’ve got the one thing that you shouldn’t store alcohol in: lead. Not all crystal contains lead, but most of the older stuff does. You can tell you have crystal if, when you hold the decanter up to the light, the patterns cut in it create a prism effect. The decanter I filled with The Irishman is glass; the two in the tantalus are crystal. You can test for lead a couple of different ways, with a surface test or a water-leach test.

In conclusion: give yourself a fancy time, don’t give yourself lead poisoning.

Liquor On Vacation: Where the Whiskey Comes From

Usually, this is a recipe column — one drink a month. But I spent three weeks in August traveling Iceland and Scotland, so to quote Monty Python’s Flying Circus: now for something completely different.

Photography © jmberman1 2009

No, whiskey kitten, that’s not actually where the whiskey comes from. Whiskey can come from a lot of places around the world, each with their own particular practice and flavor and soul (and opinion on whether or not it’s spelled with an “e”). Scotland, you may already know, is one of those places. Those places from which the whisky flows. Specifically Scotch whisky—often characterized by a smokey flavor that comes from malting barley over burning peat. What you may not know is that each region in Scotland actually has a different character and that each distillery within each region is different still. The peaty quality? Well. I visited a region in Scotland well-known for being extra special peaty, given that it was the only fuel source for a while there. And that region is an island in the Hebrides called Islay (pronounced EYE-luh).

To get to Islay, you take the rental car that’s backward from what you’re used to and isn’t causing you any anxiety at all, and you park that rental car on a ferry while seafaring Scottish folks laugh at you. Then you take a two-and-a-half-hour ferry ride to an island that looks and feels like heaven. Maybe it was just in my head, but the second I disembarked, I could smell whiskey on the wind; on this small island, there are eight Scotch whisky distilleries. I visited three of them, all within a couple miles of each other: Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig (whose 2015 200th Anniversary Cairdeas we tasted at an A-Camp whiskey tasting). Here’s what I learned.

Stills Look Like Butt Plugs

I’ve visited a lot of breweries and one cidery, but actually never a whisky distillery of any kind. I sure picked a hell of a way to start. That up there is a still at Ardbeg Distillery. All the stills sort of have this vague butt-plug shape, but of the three distilleries I visited, Laphroaig’s had the most butt-plug-esque shape:

Now that I have that out of the way—

Process Is Queen…

It isn’t just recipe. Whiskey is really only made of three things: barley, yeast, and water. The steps were identical at every distillery. First, you malt the barley, then you crush the barley, and you put it and yeast together with some water. You let the yeast do its yeasty thang and you get something called wash, which I tasted everywhere. It’s basically a beer, but like a warm yeasty beer that very few folks would want to drink much of. Here is what I look like tasting wash at Laphroaig:

also this is what I look like having started drinking whiskey at nine in the goddamn morning also having been super duper rained on by the authentic Scottish weather lalalala

Then from there, it’s drained and the spent barley is fed to cows. The liquid bits are distilled the first time into something called low wines. You wouldn’t want to drink this either; it’s not refined yet. When it gets distilled a second time, that’s when it starts to be called whiskey. But truly, you wouldn’t want to drink that yet either, because it really gets to be whiskey when it’s aged in barrels. A popular barrel on the island seemed to be American bourbon barrels from Kentucky, actually, but I saw a lot of sherry casks as well. Those barrels then chill there for at least eight years. And THEN you’ve got whiskey. That’s it. That’s literally it.

But it’s far more than the sum of its parts. There’s an alchemy of each individual distillery’s attitude about things, and the workers who’ve been there 40 years with their hands steering the wheel. As you can see in the last section, the above stills are really only slightly different from each other. But it’s these subtle differences that make each of the distilleries so vastly different from each other. Ardbeg uses a purifier on their stills; Lagavulin wants as little contact wth the copper on the still as possible; Laphroaig wants as much contact with the copper on the still as possible. Of the three, Laphroaig is the only distillery that floor malts a portion of their barley (10-20% of it), and the other two use Port Ellen Maltings. Floor malting looks really cool, by the way. Here’s a bunch of barley germinating before it’s ready to get smoked dry:

And if you think that borders on strange spell-casting—

…And Place, Even Moreso

Ardbeg stores their entire inventory on site at their distillery while it ages. There are barrels everywhere. Laphroaig stores most of theirs as well. In fact, I did a really long, four-and-a-half hour tour at Laphroaig where I got to taste straight from three different casks.

This is Laphroaig’s warehouse.

Our guide, James, basically said that if there’s one thing he could impress upon us in an afternoon, it’s the importance of place in taste. So when I tasted out of the casks, he made sure to describe the warehouses in which they were stored — whether or not they got wind off the sea, things like that. If you think about it, that barley gets turned for days while it germinates and it’s exposed to the open air. All sorts of wild yeast, pollen and such — it all must be in it by the time it’s smoked. The barrels carry with them the taste of the last thing in it, but also the rainwater from whence it came; there’s no way to sterilize wood. Yeasts and pollens will be in the barrel as well. You can’t get those sorts of things except by being there. There’s a magic to roots, I think.

Cutting Peat is Hard

On the left, me putting every ounce of weight and muscle into cutting peat. On the right, James the Guide coming over to rescue the peat when it fell into the chasm because cutting peat is FUCKING HARD, Y’ALL.

Seriously. Laphroaig uses hand-cut peat in their own maltings because it’s more sustainable and it’s also smokier (handcut retains moisture better). Two people just go out there and cut it. I watched our guide James cut it. And then I tried to do it and I’ve never felt more like a donkey doing the Macarena. When I think about the price of whisky having seen how fucking difficult everything is to do, I’m basically like HERE YES TAKE MY MONEY.

More Folks Who Aren’t Cis Dudes Need to Work in This Industry I Think?

This isn’t to erase the plenty of women working in the industry who I’ve met and spoke to. On this trip specifically, I had a fabulous tour guide at Lagavulin named Karen! But I didn’t meet a single person who used pronouns outside the binary and, on the Ardbeg tour, our guide kept using the word “men” to describe all the workers because that was true. I think this industry would be perfect for the queers I know and love. As queer folks, we often get shafted on a lot of tradition. It’s either directly oppressive or it’s just plain inaccessible to us. The tradition of distilling feels like a blanket on me, friends, it does. It’s a process, a meditation, a way to connect with what’s been done for hundreds of years in a place. I love whiskey! And if I had another life to live, I’d be running away to Islay right now to turn barley over in the middle of the night.

10 Summer Beers to Drink Before Pumpkin Spice Takes Over

The most horrifying thing happened to me this week: I walked ten blocks in the sweltering heat to my favorite bar and was greeted with two pumpkin beers on tap. Now listen, I am not a pumpkin beer hater. Pumpkin beers have done so much to introduce people to the craft beer scene, which is my most favorite scene. The less people drinking Coors Light, the better. But it’s August in New York City; I need gills to breathe. I want a summer beer because it’s still summer. Alas, vanilla and ginger and cinnamon and nutmeg are encroaching. Here are ten summer beers to try before they take over everything.

Allagash Fluxus 2017

I’m never going to make a beer list without an Allagash on it. It’s one of my favorite breweries in the U.S. because they consistently make some of the weirdest and most unique beers I’ve ever tasted. Fluxus is Allagash’s seasonal saison, which: fine, standard summer beer — but this year it’s brewed with rhubarb. Rhubarb! It’s not too sweet, and it’s actually kind of dry. It’ll make you happy for summer but dewey-eyed about fall too.

Almanac Strawberry Basil

This was a real weird summer for strawberry beers. Weird because there were so many of them. Almanac’s Strawberry Basil was my favorite (Bombshell’s Strawberries and Cream Summer Ale was a close second.) It’s an oak barrel-aged farmhouse ale, strawberry upfront and lingering basil at the end. It’s not syrupy like you think it’s going to be, and because it’s barrel-aged, it clocks in with a pretty solid ABV. (Another Almanac to try is Tropical Galaxy. It’s got mangoes, coconut, and just a touch of lime.)

Dogfish Head Flesh and Blood IPA

We are swimming in an endless sea of fruity IPAs. The problem is that most fruity IPAs do not taste like IPAs. They taste like cider. Blech! But this is a real deal IPA (and you know Dogfish Head knows IPAs) with notes of citrusy grapefruit and lemon. It’s a little tart and a lot hoppy.

Burial Shallow Water Kölsch

A kölsch is a perfect summer beer. Crisp and smooth and bright, often with just a kiss of honey. Bars are stacked with one-note kölsches this year, but Burial Shallow Water’s is full of depth. It’s citrus without tasting like a shandy, doughy without tasting like a hefeweizen. You can also drink it on the beach (it comes in a can) because, bizarrely, it gets more complicated as it gets warmer.

Ballast Point Habanero Sculpin

I’m a huge fan of Ballast Point’s Sculpin IPA line and a huge fan of beers with a kick so Habanero Sculpin is my go-to summer fav. It’s not just spicy. There’s something floral going on here too. But it is spicy. A long burn. You’ll wanna sip on this one. (For harder-to-find but world-class beers with heat, I recommend Two Henrys Roasted Jalapeño Blueberry Porter, Jaipur Jalapeño Ale, and Asheville Fire Escape.)

Beaus Tom Green Summer Stout

A summer stout! There’s no way you’re going be able to look at this beer and reconcile what you’re seeing with what you’re tasting. It smells like coffee and chocolate; it tastes like a fizzy imperial stout; it looks like a golden ale. It’s surprisingly light and easy to drink and if you eat a bunch of strawberries while you’re drinking it you’re going to feel like the Queen of Genovia.

Southern Prohibition Brewing Devil’s Harvest

It feels I’m putting nothing but IPAs on this list but, a) how could I leave off a beer named DEVIL’S HARVEST and b) this is just a really damn good session IPA. It’s actually a lot smoother (silky even) than your everyday IPA because there’s some oats in here that balance everything out and soak up some of the bitterness of the hops. Also, the ABV is only 4.6% so you can drink these all day outside, if you want. Southern Prohibition even calls it “a breakfast IPA.”

Crooked Stave Nightmare on Brett

If you see a beer with “brett” in the name, you know it’s going be a little funky. Brett is a type of wild yeast strain that’s showing up more and more in craft beers these days. Sometimes it makes beers tart. Sometimes it makes them sour. In Crooked Stave Nightmare on Brett, it’s a perfect balance of both. This beer is dark as night and it smells like a campfire. But what it tastes like is a magic potion. It’s black currant and blueberries and balsamic. One second you’re like, “Does this taste like pickles?” And the next second you’re like, “No, it tastes an oaky Chardonnay.” I know that sounds bonkers and also gross, but it’s true and it’s delicious. You can only get it in a big bottle and the ABV is 10% so probably you’ll want to share it with a pal. (If you want to try a more accessible brett bear, Allagash has several to choose from.)

Night Shift Furth Hefeweizen

You gotta have a hefeweizen on a summer beer list and this is my top pick. It’s like all hefeweizens in that it’s banana bread in a bottle, but it’s got a fizzy pop and some citrus in there to even things out. It’s a tangy hefe. Like that Burial Shallow Water Kölsch up there, this beer gets more complex as it gets warmer.

Westbrook Gose

The Great Gose Revolution of Summer 2015 was started by Westbrook’s Gose in 2012. Everybody’s stuffing their goses full of fruit these days (Anderson Valley Brewery is going to be your go-to for that), but this is a classic. The classic, really. It’s citrusy and it’s obviously salty as all hell but there’s a delightful grassy, earthy, hoppiness to this beer that becomes more apparent the more goses saturate the market. If you don’t like goses, you’re never going to like goses, so don’t force yourself. But if you do, you owe it to yourself to sip on this one.

What was your favorite beer this summer?

How To Make Beer and Wine Popsicles, Win at Life Using Science

Header by Rory Midhani

Hey, remember that time Liz Castle made boozesicles with Piña Colada mix? How about when Ali set our hearts aflame with Bourbon Hellfire Fudgesicles? Ooh, or when Vanessa made out with a cute girl on a rooftop after a couple French 75 popsicles? What I’m about to share isn’t a new idea, but times are hard, life is short, and dammit, we all deserve something good right now!

Enter beer and wine popsicles, aka the secondary coping mechanism I’ve developed to get myself through August 2017! (The primary one is working myself into oblivion.)

My adult popsicle experiments all began with a Lifehacker article titled “How to Turn Any Alcohol You Like Into Tasty Frozen Popsicles.” Per Claire Lower,

To make an alcoholic ice pop that won’t slush out the moment you remove it from the mold, you’re going to want to aim for an overall ABV of 8%. Some beers fall under this threshold, so you are free to freeze those as is, but you’ll need to do a bit of math when working with the stronger stuff. Luckily, it is very easy math. Using the basic dilution formula that you may have learned in chemistry class, we can quickly find how much booze we can add to our popsicles: C1V1=C2V2 where “C” stands for “concentration” and “V” stands for volume.

Popsicle 1: 14.5% ABV red wine and mint popsicle. 50% dilution with sugar water.

Following the dilution formula above, I mixed one part water with one part red wine (14.5% ABV), making an easily freezable popsicle that came in around 7.25% ABV. I also stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and some chopped mint leaves. Result: a refreshing, wine-like popsicle with very large ice crystals. Very hard, very cold, not particularly nice for chewing. Also not the most alcoholic. A solid first attempt, but I knew I could do better!

For trial number two, I decided to go with beer. Not thinking too hard about it, I poured an oatmeal stout named “dessert” into the freeze pop mold, added some raspberries, and stuck it in the freezer. When I came back one day later, it was much meltier than expected. Turns out the ABV of that beer is 11%. And the taste of that beer, friends, is heaven on a plastic popsicle stick!

Popsicle 2: 11% ABV beer and raspberries.

Texture wise, there was still room for improvement. The beer was great (you could bite into it and it felt like a pretty normal popsicle), but the raspberries inside were solid little ice cubes. Delicious, but jarring! Further research into the matter yielded the following key facts:

• Pure ethanol has a melting point of -173ºF (-114ºC). In contrast, water has a melting point of 32ºF (0ºC).
• The amount of ethanol in the most common commercially-available alcoholic beverages (by volume) is pretty low: 4-6% for most beers, 12-15% for most wines, and 40+% for most liquors. The rest of the volume consists of water and solutes (salts, sugars, etc.).
• Most home freezers maintain temperatures between –9ºF and 0ºF (–23ºC and –18ºC).

What this means is that there’s nothing special about 8% ABV. So long as your freezer is colder than the melting point of your liquid, it will freeze. It just might take a long time if the ABV is high, and when you take it out of the freezer, it’s going to melt more quickly, potentially requiring you to shotgun your alcoholic popsicle. Challenge accepted.

I went for wine next: a 13.5% ABV chardonnay, plus blackberries. I stuck a wireless digital thermometer in the back of my freezer and measured the temperature range: -2ºF to 4ºF over the course of a normal week. Not bad; and with a little patience, it’s definitely cold enough to freeze my wine.

Popsicle 3: a 13.5% ABV chardonnay and blackberries.

Here’s some more science for you!

• Hydrogen bonds (the attractive force between the hydrogen attached to an electronegative atom of one molecule and an electronegative atom of a different molecule) are the reason why water forms ice crystals when it freezes; they naturally create an open hexagonal lattice.
• Any molecule containing what is called a hydroxy group (-OH) or an amino group (-N-H) is capable of forming hydrogen bonds with water. Sucrose (table sugar) contains eight hydroxy groups, making it very soluble in water. It actually bonds so well with water that it literally slows down the motion of the water molecules.
• The more sugar there is, the lower the freezing point. Sugar physically interferes with the growth of ice crystals, and smaller ice crystals translates into less graininess in the final popsicle.

To cut down on the “ice cube” texture, I chopped my berries into smaller pieces and coated them in sugar. My popsicle turned out splendidly.

Popsicle 4: 12% ABV rosé and strawberries.

I didn’t actually get to try this out yet, but honey is another sweet option to lower the melting point. The sugar in honey is mostly fructose and glucose, two “small sugars” that lower the freezing point and prevent iciness even better than a larger sugar like sucrose. Light corn syrup is another option, preferred by Cook’s Science for decreasing ice crystal size and raising the melting point for ice cream. For something that doesn’t add sweetness at all, gelatin or carrageen are two other options. Those two also thicken things up and reportedly lessen the overall meltiness.

What popsicle combinations are you going to try?

Notes From A Queer Engineer is a recurring column with an expected periodicity of 14 days. The subject matter may not be explicitly queer, but the industrial engineer writing it sure is. This is a peek at the notes she’s been doodling in the margins.

Liquor In The Coffee: From The Frozen Depths

I want, nay, NEED to redeem myself from the last frozen cocktail recipe, the making of which resulted in the summoning of a Cthulhu blender monster. Luckily, an A+ member had a request for me that would allow me to try my hand once again at a smoothie-type drink. Something along the lines of an iced coffee cocktail. Well then! I can easily stick that in a blender and prove that I do, in fact, know how to use one. And could it be vegan? Well darn tootin’, it could!

I looked up a few coffee cocktail recipes and my heart wasn’t in them, so instead, I decided to whip up something I’d want to drink right this very second. I already associate the blender with monsters from the ocean coming up to get us (for no reason, obviously), so I decided that the way to go in this case would be the Kraken. I’m calling this drink From the Frozen Depths.

You will need: 

+ 4 oz. cold brew coffee concentrate

+ coconut milk creamer in the hazelnut flavor

+ another sort of nondairy milk-esque situation (I’m using vanilla almond milk)

+ 3 oz. Kraken dark spiced rum

+ 1 cup ice

+ a blender

Using a liquid measuring cup, measure out approximately one cup of ice. Dump that into the blender and set it aside. You are now on a timer. Move quickly enough that your ice doesn’t melt!

Mix up the coffee concentrate. In this case, I’m using Muddy Waters and the instructions say four ounces per serving. So I’ll use my jigger to measure four ounces out, and then I’ll pour it into that same liquid measuring cup. If your cold brew coffee concentrate has a different serving size than this, that’s totally cool. Measure out that serving size into a liquid measuring cup. The important part is that it finishes in a liquid measuring cup.

Dump the 3 oz. of Kraken in there next. Give a little splash of the coconut milk creamer, but don’t fill it all the way to the cup mark or it’ll be too hazelnutty. Grab your other nondairy milk-esque situation and fill it to the cup mark to cut that sweetness. Once you’ve got all that going on, dump it into the blender over top the ice.

Put the lid on your blender and affix that sucker to the base. Do a couple ice-crushing pulses, then set it to purée. This is purely a texture thing, so judge by sight whether or not the smoothie is done. Pour the drink into a poolside margarita glass or a nice, clear coffee cup. There should be enough here for two folks to drink. Enjoy!

Don’t have a blender? This would work great as an iced coffee drink as well. I just like the way it foams up at the top when you blend it and also I DIDN’T SUMMON BLENDER TENTACLES go me.

Liquor In The Blender: Frosé for the Family

“Have you heard of this frosé thing?”

My mother-in-law is constantly tipping me off to things we have to try, stuff I should mix or bake or what not. I must admit, I had not heard of this frosé thing before she said it. But hey, I’m defo into mixing drinks that have a millennial pink hue. I thought, why not. Even if it’s undrinkable, it’ll be good fun. It’s apparently trendy, with several bars and cafés serving it this summer. And the fourth of July was fast approaching, which meant basically a weekend-long barbecue filled with extended family. What better time to attempt a blender drink?

I started researching frosé and half the recipes made my screw my face up in a terrible wince. Vodka? Strawberry simple syrup? Could you even taste the rosé in the end? I decided to riff on a recipe that would cut the sweet down a bit — and for that, I involved Aperol. Aperol, if you’ve never had it, is in the same family as Campari. It’s an Italian apéritif that, instead of the distinct grapefruit taste, has a bitter orange taste. It’s perfect if you have any members of your family don’t care for the amount of bitter that is Campari, but still want a light, refreshing taste to cut the sweet.

You will need:

+ An entire bottle of rosé, something on the darker side but not more expensive than $12 a bottle.

+ 2 oz. Aperol

+ The juice of four lemons (about 2 oz)

+ 1/3 cup sugar

+ 1/3 cup water

+ 3 trays of ice

+ the ability to learn from one of my giant mistakes

We’re going to start by making up a simple syrup. Put the 1/3 cup of water in a pot on your stove and bring it to simmering. Then dump the 1/3 cup of sugar in. Keep it simmering and stir it until all the sugar is dissolved and it looks like you have water, but actually what you have is sugar water. Hey, remember that Men In Black villain? Edgar?

Anyhow. Set the simple syrup aside to cool. Now go ahead and juice your lemons. I used four, and as per ushe, I cut them lengthways because I believe you get more juice that way. Combine the lemon juice, 2 oz. Aperol and the 1/3 cup simple syrup and set it aside.

Now reckon with your blender.

This step, for me, is where it all went to Hades. As I made this drink in my in-laws’ kitchen, I had access to a crazy margarita machine owned by my father-in-law, Richard (not to be confused with my father who is also called Richard). What it does is it shaves ice and then blends that ice with whatever you stick in the blender, making the perfect consistency of frozen booze treat. I could’ve just used a blender, we have one, but no. I had to try this f*cking contraption.

Nervously, Richard offered to run the margarita machine. “Oh, you don’t have to do that!” I exclaimed. “Just show me how to do it.” Richard wasn’t drinking the frosé because he had little faith in the experiment, and I felt bad making him work for a drink he wasn’t going to have. I turned to other family members, waiting behind me for their frosé. “It’s basically just a blender, after all.” Those were what one might call “famous last words.” I combined the entire bottle of wine with the pre-combined Aperol, lemon juice and simple syrup in the blender. It did not fill past the line that Richard had pointed out to me just 30 seconds earlier. Then I dumped three trays of ice into the ice-doodad on this marg spaceship. And I turned it on.

You may notice that there are but a few photos of this particular drink-making process. That is because, when I flipped this switch, this drink rose up from the depths of the blender like Cthulu from the deep. One might even say it “rosé” up. My dog started barking, my family started screaming, and I, covered in frosé, attempted to turn the machine off.

Queermos. It. Would. Not. Turn. Off. Nothing I did to this machine made it stop. Finally, I leaned over the sopping mess and pulled the plug out of the wall. I was a little embarrassed until everyone in the kitchen started laughing and laughing and laughing.

Here is what I’m saying. What I’m saying is, DIVIDE THE MIXTURE INTO TWO PORTIONS AND BLEND EACH PORTION SEPARATELY. DO NOT BE A HERO.

Pour your frosé into margarita glasses, martini glasses or similar. Something large and in charge with a stem—you don’t want your hot hands to melt your frosé faster. Miraculously, I still had enough for five full glasses and one smaller glass.

Take a strawberry for each glass and slice it with a knife. Slide it onto the lip of your glass. Clean up the remnants of the frosé monster before your dog gets drunk. And enjoy with a family that now thinks tremendously less of you than they did before.

Liquor In The Horse Show: a Make-And-Take Lady Shirley

“Are there alcoholic beverages allowed at a horse show?”

“Yeah. [name redacted] always wanders around with his coffee mug, filled with what we call an ‘adult beverage.'”

And then I discovered we were bringing other adult beverages too. I don’t generally go to horse shows—I only went to a handful when I rode horses as a child, even. But I’m staying with a family for the summer, and here, when the family runs a horse farm, we go to a horse show every once in a while. I figured I might make a portable cocktail to bring along with us. I’m not particularly into horse shows, after all, but I am into mixing drinks, so this should be a fun challenge for me! Especially since my bar is still mostly in boxes! I went to the easiest-to-reach box and pulled out…grenadine. Uh. Okay. There’s some, uh…bourbon. Oh, and I remember packing my soda siphon up yesterday, so that’s in the fridge…

Oh! Adult beverage! How about we make a grown-up Shirley Temple? After a little bit of googling, I discovered that this does, in fact, exist. It’s called a Lady Shirley. Here’s how you make it ahead and transport it to your alcohol-allowed outdoor event.

What you need:

6 oz. bourbon (I’m using Bulleit)

6 oz. lemon juice

4 oz. grenadine

a handful of maraschino cherries, preferably with the stems still on

a bottle of seltzer or a full siphon, to be transported separately

a large Nalgene bottle

venue-appropriate cups

First juice up your lemons by cutting them lengthwise. Wait, no, scratch that. First, take advantage of the beautiful day by taking all your drink-making supplies outside. THEN juice up your lemons by cutting them lengthwise.

Dump your Bourbon, lemon juice and grenadine into the nalgene bottle. Screw the top on and shake it up. We’re not putting ice in because we don’t need this drink chilled, not yet. I made this about three hours before we’d actually drink it.

After you shake it up, stick a handful of maraschino cherries to get all boozy in there while it sits. Because now it’s going to sit. It’s going to sit in the fridge until you leave for wherever it is that you’re taking this. Make sure you’re chilling your seltzer at the same time. Pack the nalgene and the seltzer separately and, when you get there, pour the cocktail into your venue-appropriate cups.

A word about the cups—usually I prioritize glass-wear and the experience of drinking and garnish and making it look pretty. Usually, I make my drinks look as cute as I can. But y’all, sometimes venues don’t allow glass even when they do allow alcohol. And here’s how I feel about that—this drink isn’t near as pretty as other drinks I make, it’s true. See, it’s in a wax cup. But, if you think about it, the same thing is being prioritized here: the experience of drinking. The good part of this drink isn’t how good it looks, but rather the experience of having your cocktail in a picnic environment.

May your outdoor fun be blessed with good cocktails and, a word of warning, this one tastes like childhood drinks BUT IT STILL HAS ALCOHOL IN IT REMEMBER THAT AND DON’T HAVE A WHOLE BUNCH AT ONCE PLEASE.

6 Box Wines, Ranked From “Capri-Fun” To “I’ve Had Worse” By 30 Drunk Queers

Mere weeks prior to this very moment, a group of human beings gathered in a room at our annual A-Camp event in Wisconsin to participate in a ritual near and dear to my heart: drinking wine out of a box while listening to me talk, loudly. The 2017 Boxed Wine & Wisconsin Cheese Curds Tasting was a riotous affair! 30+ people came to a small classroom, delighted to taste and rank six boxed wines, served by my dutiful cocktail waitresses Courtney, Mary and Bree (with some extra help from Monique and Sarah); along with hearty plates of authentic cheese curds. There were plates, napkins, cups, the whole enchilada! It was so much fun I forgot to take pictures! As with my last wine-tasting event, participants rated the wines using this sophisticated Boxed Wine Taster’s Card:

Because I forget to ask people to write their names on their cards, I am going to call everybody who attended the workshop “Diane.” There will be no Diane consistency — with every new wine discussed, I will start all over with Diane #1, then Diane #2, etc. Make sense? Good, let’s start!

Monique and Frances are having a great time! (Photo by Robin Roemer)

Naked Grape Pinot Noir – 2.3/6

Cost: $14/3L // $4.86 per liter

Coming in dead last is Naked Grape Pinot Noir, or, as one reviewer called it, Naked Grape “Pinot Noir.” The box promises “a soft confidence that hits the perfect note,” which describes my girlfriend but does not describe this extremely maligned wine, which ranked high on the “Tar” wedge of the Wine Wheel.

It appears — and please do quote me on this — that this wine has stolen a secret and apparently holy recipe. Nearly 25% of our tasters said it reminded them of what the gentiles refer to as “communion wine.” Well, I have a lot of questions for a lot of nuns right now. (If that’s how this stuff works, I’m a Jew, ask me about Manischewitz).

This wine brought back fond memories for many of our Catholic tasters, who suggested names for the wine including:

• Jesus Does Love Me, Dad! Wine
• Baby Jesus Juice
• At-Home Communion
• Jesus Take The Wheel and Drive Me Over a Cliff
• Modestly Jesus-y
• Communion wine aka Blood of Christ aka Cheap as Shit.

Diane #1 suggested this wine for “serving to your family at Christmas after they’re already drunk and don’t know you’re being cheap” and Diane #2 suggested a trip down memory lane, claiming this box would be suitable for “Catholic school nostalgia — stolen wine tastes so much better.” The sense of guilt and obligation I’ve heard is the bedrock of Catholicism also rang true for Diane #3, who’d drink this “when you want to call in sick for work and not feel guilty for lying.”

Some tasters had a less religious take on this particular libation, suggesting names like like “WTF Is Your Life,” “Sex With An Ex,” “Pop My Cherry” and “Megan Rapinot Noir… Naked.”

Diane #4 felt this wine had legs… hot legs that is. Not only did she scrawl in “tastes warm” on the side of the Suitability checklist, but she also wrote “Mouth Feel: warm :-/” adjacent to the Boxed Wine Wheel. Diane #4 also felt this wine is best served as “an introductory wine you use in France with the young kids.” But France is so far away, Diane! What about those of us introducing wine to young kids in other countries*? Don’t worry — even local Dianes came to childish conclusions, with many comparing it to juice and Diane #5 advising this wine for “feeding children, replacement for NyQuil.” (*I’m kidding, don’t give wine to children!)

Diane #6 suggested consuming NGPN while watching “the movie Carrie.” So you can do what you will with that piece of information. I sure did!

Bota Box RedVolution – 3/6

Cost: $19.99/3L // $6.66 per liter

Who’s ready for the RedVolution? NOT MOST OF THESE DIANES! The Bota Box copy promises “rich aromas” of “black cherry, cocoa and a hint of spice” which extend into “lush flavors of dark fruit, cherry and toasty oak, this smooth, full-bodied wine culminates into a juicy, well-balanced finish.” Putting aside how messy this already feels, I can confirm that “vaguely fruity” was a popular choice on our Boxed Wine Wheel, so they got that right.

Otherwise, when it comes to the RedVolution, you either loved it or you hated it. Diane #1 loved it enough to suggest consuming it while “playing board games in your underwear at A-Camp,” whereas Diane #2 succinctly suggested Redvolution to be an appropriate libation for “Death.” Diane #3 wanted to pair it with “drinking sadly while waiting for water to boil to make depression pasta.” Diane #4, a rare drinker for giving it mid-level grade, wanted to “drink it from a Diet Coke can at a queer softball game” and Diane #5, another rare mid-level ranker, went into further detail: “when you invite your ex over to hook up but you don’t want to get back together, you really just want to fuck and make bad decisions.”

Although RedVolution already won the admittedly weak contest for “innovative naming,” that didn’t stop your creative (is-it-wine-or-is-it-)juices from flowing. Your suggestions for re-naming this wine included:

• Capri-Fun
• Strawberry Jam
• Dead-Volution
• Someone dropped their pasta in the fire
• Cheap Italian Dinner
• The Redvolution Will Not Be Drunk
• Happy Fields of Iowa / Is It Good Or am I Drunk?
• Str8 Hippie Nectar
• Got a Taste Of the Cherry and Now I Need To Take A Bite

Some more politically progressive tasters had a different take, though, with Diane #6 re-naming it, “The Revolution Will Not Be Sober, Nor Will It Profit From Boxed Wine Sales By Co-opting Activist History” and Diane #7 coming in strong with “Elon Musks’ Favorite Wine (because it has disrupted the boxed wine industry).”

Provisions Cabernet Sauvignon – 3.1 / 6

Cost: $18.99/3L // $6.33 per Liter

This was my co-facilitator Laneia’s favorite wine, and many Dianes agreed, suggesting re-naming it “Self-Care Night,” “If Jesus Made Boxed Wine,” “My Best Friend” and “Fresh Full-Bodied Like a Nice Woman.” Unfortunately I believe that last name was inspired by / a direct transcription of commentary I provided to the class in response to the box’s assertion that this particular Cabernet Sauvignon was “fresh and full-bodied.”

Other claims made by the box include “fine tannins,” “spice notes,” and generosity with “blackberry and cassis flavors.” However, the issue of cassis was not raised by any of our Dianes.

Diane #1 spilled wine all over their tasting sheet and wanted to call it “Saloon Box” and checked off “pre-partying” as a suitable activity for this wine while writing in the specification “at your local saloon.” Diane #2 wanted to re-name it “Gasoline” and suggested drinking it “when you hate yourself.” (!!!) Diane #3 wanted to chug this baby while “watching ’70s porn with friends you aren’t having sex with,” and Diane #4 wanted to re-name it “Sad Aunt.” SAD AUNT!  Bless Diane #5, who suggested Provisions an appropriate drink for “responding to the comment section” and rated the wine “Worth it with a Frye store card.”

Corbett Canyon – 3.5/6

Cost: $11 for 3 L // $3.60/Liter

This simple, unassuming wine describes itself as “medium-bodied with classic hints of apple, pears and toasty oak.” Diane #1, however, described it as “piss water.”

That’s right: although reasonably priced and rolling deep in the “Non-Alcoholic Grape Juice Cut With Water” portion of the wine wheel, this wine managed a mid-level score without truly winning over any of our Dianes. But I’ll tell you this: show me a white wine in a box, and I will show you a cup you can pour it into and then I’ll drink it, which is exactly what I did with this wine. I’d definitely describe it as “totally decent!” and “definitely legal.”

As you’d expect at an AUTOstraddle-sponsored event, a solid percentage of Dianes called this wine “Corvette Canyon,” and one called it “Toyota Canyon.” Unlike the red wines, Corbett didn’t aggressively offend most Dianes, except the one who’d only drink it if “locked in a grocery store with only this wine.” But even its highest-raters didn’t have any grand compliments to bestow, instead noting that this would be “the wine my mother drinks while watching 20/20 and sending me passive-aggressive texts” or the wine for “an awkward holiday work party where you’re pretty sure you’re about to get fired.” A Diane who resolutely ranked this wine as “totally worth it” also wanted to rename it “Watery Hangover-Inducer with a Side of Loneliness” and to drink it “in a college dorm room while trying to seem cool with people you don’t know well.”

Other suitable occasions? Two found it fitting for “stealing wine for your parents” and another recommended it “post ex-sighting, because I am just as bitter as this wine.”

But my heart lies beating with the Diane who wanted to name it “I’ve Had Worse.” Sometimes, that’s the best endorsement a gal can give to a box of wine, you know? If only I could say the same about our President.

Fish Eye Pinot Grigio – 3.6 / 6

Cost: $15.48/3L // $5.16 per liter

It appears Fish Eye was one of our final wines, because boy does it seem like I’ve I got some drunken Dianes on my hands! Many of the Fish Eye rating cards contain multiple corrections and loose scrawls.

“White Girl Wine Spritzers” is so spot-on though

Furthermore, Diane #1 found Fish Eye Pinot Grigio suitable for “Idk I’ve had 6 cups of wine already I’m about to make irresponsible decisions in the most adorable way possible.” I hope your dreams came true, Diane #1! Speaking of dreams I hope came true, Diane #2 wanted to drink this “while working up the courage to talk to the cute Outsiders in their denim vests.” For those of you unfamiliar with A-Camp (most of you), The Outsiders are a specific and legendary group of A-Campers who always wear denim vests. They’re a fine group of humans, I’ll tell you what!

Perhaps it was the suggestion of fish that delivered your palates straight to the sands, but a multitude of Dianes declared Fish Eye suitable for shoreline situations, suggesting renaming it “Beachy Keen” or “Drinking on a Boat” and consuming it while having a “Beach Day w/Coney Island dirty water hot dogs” or while “Canoe Fishing,” which is a highly recommended method of fishing.

Diane #3, who wanted to re-name the wine “Classy McClassyface (pronounced with an Australian accent),” wanted to consume this wine at “an outdoor barbecue at your hipster techie coworkers house and you throw it at your host in rage after the conversation turns political.” See you there!

Franzia White Zinfandel – 4.8 / 6

Cost: $15.99/5L // $3.20 per liter

Franzia White Zinfandel is probably pictured in the dictionary when you look up “box wine.” Is there any box wine more box-winey than a giant white crate of uber-cheap pink wine that even in its own tasting notes, humbly acknowledges that you will likely consume it with Ramen noodles? “Complements cheeses, salads, and simple pasta,” it says of itself. It will not surprise you to learn that about twenty minutes after losing my Franzia White Zinfandel virginity in 1998, I went ahead and lost my actual virginity. It was fine, much like this wine!

The high ranking of this particular wine speaks to two facts: one, that the rating scale evaluates whether or not each wine is financially “worth it,” therefore giving cheap wines an advantage. Two, that boxed wine is never gonna be great, but if it can’t be great, it can be something else — INEXPENSIVE. I think Diane #1 said it best when she suggested renaming Franzia White Zinfandel “My Girlfriend’s Getting Naked.”

Franzia brought many Dianes’ minds back to the glory days of college, as write-in answers recalled “hooking up with “straight” girls in college,” “sophomore year in DG (Delta Gamma)” and “undergrad.” Others summoned more adult-esque visions, like naming it “Soccer Moms” and “Grown-Up Juice” or suggesting Franzia White Zinfandel as an adequate companion to “Parenting.” (Worth noting that the “Parenting” enthusiast also drew a geometric design on their wine wheel, scrawled two cartoon hearts at the top of the sheet, and checked off every potential situation listed under “This box of wine would be suitable for.”)

Diane #2 just couldn’t pick between youth and adulthood, though, suggesting a rename of “College Pre-Party / Adult Shame.”

Others went even younger — wanting to bring Franzia along while “watching Wheel of Fortune with your closeted gay aunt in the basement with your friends when you’re 16 and afraid of not being cool” or “joy-riding to the mall with 16-year-olds.”

The juice-like qualities of Franzia White Zinfandel were appreciated by all, some of whom wanted to call it “Capri-Fun,” “Pink Lemonade” or “Princess Peach.” Many of you were unconvinced that this was, in fact, wine. As somebody who had two glasses of it, I can assure you that it was.

But cheap reigned supreme, as it did for Diane #3, who gave it a 6/6 while also, seemingly contradictorily, wanting to drink it while “scrolling through twitter and crying.” Diane #2 gave it a 5/6, but also scrawled “are you sure it’s wine?” on her wine wheel, and complained that although it was her #aesthetic, it was “not as good as Sunset Blush.”

Is anything as good as Sunset Blush, though? I’m not sure anything is, or ever could be!

In conclusion, we finished our box wine experience with a live demonstration of a phenomenon I was unfamiliar with until this very camp. This phenomenon is known as “slapping the bag” and it is a popular method by which a person exudes resourcefulness and overall dedication to the cause. Props to Katie Mayo and Courtney for participating in a live demonstration of Slapping the Bag!

live demonstration by two actual millennials

Liquor In the Moving Boxes: A Monkey Wrench While I Pack My Bar

Ugh. I’m moving at the end of this month. I’ve been in the same apartment for three years, which is a record in my adult life and I DO NOT WANT TO GO ANYWHERE. Alas, I live in University housing and must move. Right after this Liquor In The _____, I’ll be packing up my bar and sending it to a faraway farm, where we’ll be spending the summer before jumping back into city living in the Fall.

Packing up brings back memories of moving in. Of me putting my IKEA desk together and then crying when I realized I put the back of it on wrong and I’d already been assembling furniture for two days. To quote Doctor Who, I don’t want to go. But that’s not the only reason I picked the Monkey Wrench, the loose association with building IKEA — someone in the comments last month wanted something grapefruity that DIDN’T have gin in it. Ask and ye shall receive.

You will need: 

• 2 oz light Rum (I’m using Brugal)
• 4 oz grapefruit juice.
• 2 dashes Angostura Bitters
• grapefruit twist to garnish. I’m using a cocktail sword to make it pretty.

First, juice your grapefruit. A couple people came through with science last time and busted my slice-the-citrus-lengthwise trick wide open. Now I’m usually all for science, but you have to slice it anyhow, so may as well slice it lengthwise and reap the benefit of one more ounce of juice.

Fill your shaker halfway with ice and add the liquor, the grapefruit juice and the two dashes Angostura bitters. Some people put orange bitters in this drink, but I sometimes don’t care for the way orange bitters taste in grapefruit juice, so Angostura it is. It gives the drink a little depth as well—not all sweetness. Remember, we’re using a shaker because there’s fruit juice involved.

A brief pause to advocate for bottle pourers as a thing you might want if you’re regularly making drinks at home. On the days where I say, fuck it, I don’t want to make extra dishes, and I DON’T use a spout, I wind up having to clean my bar and my dining room table. So yes—use a bottle pourer, friends. You’ll be glad you did.

Shake your drink for 20 seconds or until your shaker cap is nice and frosty. Pour into a tumbler over ice. I’m using an ice sphere again because I’m obsessed with how they look.

For the garnish, peel a large piece off the grapefruit. Hold it over the glass and roll it up so that the oils get all over the rim. Then, once it’s rolled, use a toothpick or a cocktail sword to skewer it so it looks a little like a rose or rolled ice cream.

LOOK AT MY TOTALLY EMPTY MANTLE IT USED TO BE FULL OF BOOKS GOSH THIS MAKES ME SO SAD also the drink is pretty whatever

Liquor in the Grapefruit: A New Twist on an Old Greyhound

If you’ve been following me on Instagram, you’ll know my wife and I became dog owners last November, shortly after an election stole our post-wedding joy. The one on the couch is our baby, Edith, and on the floor is her best friend, Murphy:

https://www.instagram.com/p/BSW5rPFBTTo/?taken-by=aeosworth

But while this is my first time at the puppy rodeo, this isn’t my first time at the dog rodeo. I grew up adopting retired racing greyhounds. They’re exceptionally good dogs, retired racing greyhounds, if a little lost at how to dog sometimes. I insisted on our first one after I fell in love at a community fair, but my parents continued adopting long after I was out the of the house, sometimes having three retired racers at a time. They still have one, now living alongside a retired fox hunting hound. I named him Chaucer a while back. He is very old and fat and farty. He’s a good boy.

Because our lives are really busy right now, we are unable to make the ten-hour trek to South Carolina to visit my family and the dogs (though I’m sure my parents’ old puppers are pretty happy not to have Edith pulling at their faces). We probably won’t be able to do it this summer either. That’s why, when I was flipping through the internet for cocktail inspiration, I was taken with the Greyhound, a miraculously simple cocktail consisting of only gin and grapefruit juice. Something ripe for riffing on. Plus it’s Officially Springtime, and some fresh grapefruit juice certainly wouldn’t go amiss.

You will need: 

1.5 oz gin

1 oz Saint Germain

2 oz grapefruit juice (I’m squeezing fresh!)

seltzer to top

a shaker, a strainer and some ice

First, squeeze them grapefruits. Remember to cut it lengthwise, like when you juice any citrus, because that’ll get you more juice.

Fill your shaker halfway with ice. Add the gin, Saint Germain and grapefruit juice. A pause, here, to talk about Saint Germain. One of my fave drinks to make for anyone is the Saint Germain gin and tonic. Smashing the Greyhound and that particular gin and tonic together is how I got the idea for this. But notice I’m not using tonic—grapefruit is a really complex flavor, and I use a really botanic gin, so the seltzer will add bubbles without adding a whole other flavor to this sucker. Oh, PS, DON’T ADD THE SELTZER YET. You’re about to shake this thing.

Shake until the shaker is nice and frosty. Strain into a glass. If you don’t like pulp, you can fine strain the drink by using a Hawthorne strainer AND pouring it trough a tea strainer. Then top with seltzer to taste. I was going to garnish with a grapefruit, but I used a giant ice sphere, and the color looked so elegant in this glass that I didn’t want to pester it with more? If you choose to garnish, I’m thinking either a grapefruit twist or a sprig of thyme.

Did I accidentally make a paint color? Is this drink “millennial pink”????

Liquor in the Mint: A Classic Mojito

Once I was at a restaurant eating lunch and our waiter asked what I did for a living. I told him all the jobs I was doing, and this one came up. “A liquor column, huh? I bartend here too, actually,” he said, and I held my breath because it was that tone. The tone that let me know I was about to be mansplained to. “When you make a mojito, how do you do it?”

“Uh. With mint and rum? I don’t know what answer you’re looking for here.”

“Like, with what sort of mint? How do you do the mint?”

I raised my eyebrow. “I use mint from my own mint plant that I grow myself.”

“Wow… that’s hardcore.”

I came to learn that the litmus test for whether or not I was legit enough in his eyes was how I combined the sugar and the mint. Whether I used simple syrup (the wrong answer) or I used sugar to cut the mint during muddling (the right answer). So now you know! When bartenders are trying to ascertain whether you’re “knowledgeable enough” (ugh), this is what they want you to say. And though my cats killed my chocolate mint plant long ago and I’m totally using store bought, don’t worry. It’s still legit.

You will need:

2 oz. white rum

1 demarrera sugar cube

2 mint leaves

0.5 oz lime juice

seltzer to top

First juice your lime. If you read this column regularly, you know to cut the lime length-wise to maximize juicing.

In a tall glass (I’m using a canning jar because dammit, it’s cute), muddle the sugar cube and two of the mint leaves together.

Now this is the “legit” step because the sugar crystals are going to help cut the mint apart. Then toss the lime juice in there and give it a further muddle. That’ll help dissolve the sugar.

You may notice that we’re not shaking this EVEN THOUGH we’re using a fruit juice. That’s because the fruit juice is doing a different job. This job. The sugar dissolving job.

When you’ve got a liquidy paste situation, add your ice. I’m using two big ice balls because they melt slower (more surface area = slower melt and lower temperature), and this is a strong drink, so I’m gonna take my time drinking it. Throw the 2 oz. of white rum in there and then top with your seltzer.

I like to stir a bit as well. Remember, we threw entire sugar cubes in there — if we don’t agitate this sucker a little bit, that sugar is gonna chill on the bottom. Grab a bar spoon and stir, trying not to crack your spoon against your ice. Garnish with half that juiced lime and a straw. Bam. Easy, classic, build-in-the-glass mojito. Now I’m going to pair this drink with prepping for my D&D game this weekend. Who’s with me?

Liquor in the Oh Shit Someone Needs a Cocktail ASAP: Jane Rose

You’re right, my title isn’t a real sentence! Y’all know what’s been happening in the world. It pretty much feels like it’s burning, which means sometimes you have an emergency drop-by person who needs a fucking drink. Sometimes that person is you. But most times that person is both of you. Because you’ve been to two rallies in seven days and your friend’s gotten into a Twitter fight with someone whose handle is ManFeelings90210. When that time comes, the best cocktails fit two criteria: 1) they should require nearly no effort to produce and 2) they should taste like a candy necklace. Because fuck it! Fuck elegance and effort, sometimes you just want to hunker down and watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend with a sugar drink.

Enter the Jack Rose. Which I straight up renamed a Jane Rose without changing a damn thing about the recipe. Because Jack Rose sounds like a senator I have to call to take to task over passing through too many Tr*mp nominees and Jane Rose sounds like a senator I call to thank for passing through almost no nominees because a woman’s place is in the resistance. It still looks pretty (a nice deep red), but it definitely tastes like Smarties.

What you’ll need:

2 oz gin

0.5 oz grenadine

0.5 oz fresh lime juice

lime peel to garnish

a shaker

a strainer

and a glass to put it in and that is literally it

First, juice your lime. Cut it long ways because that’ll get you more juice, and then you’ll definitely have enough for you and your friend or girlfriend or wife or cutie pie person. For some reason, you always gets more juice that way.

Then fill your shaker halfway with ice. Dump in the gin, lime juice and grenadine. A tiny bit about shaken drinks—whenever you have fruit juice of any kind, you’re going to want to shake and not stir. Shaking is also for making the drink cold as much as it is for actually mixing the drink. So shake until the outside of your shaker is frosty.

You bet that’s a congrats card from President Obama and Michelle Obama! Did you know you could do that? Send an invitation to the White House and get a congratulations card back?

Strain that sucker into a martini glass. Cut a little bit of the lime peel to garnish. And that’s it. That’s literally all you have to do. It’s so easy and it’s sweet and it’s perfect for an evening where you sign off Facebook so you can come back swinging another day.

Here is Bertie. She was convinced she was being pretty helpful.

I gotchu all. Don’t be afraid to have a self-care evening with a friend. And tell me what very funny TV shows and movies you’re watching with your drink.

5 Boxed Wines, Ranked By Lesbians

feature image by Bree Peacock

Disclaimer: These wines were not ONLY ranked by lesbians. They were also ranked by bisexuals, queers, and otherwise-identified campers who came to A-Camp 7.5 in Wisconsin this past October and attended my Boxed Wine & Artisan Cheese Tasting Workshop. However, because we have a series called “ranked by lesbiansim,” I could not miss this opportunity for a clever headline based on an inside joke. You could argue that technically since I wrote the post, it was ranked by a lesbian, though. At this point, you can pretty much say or do what you want about anything because the world is ending regardless. Here’s what to drink while you sink!

This past fall in the sweet village of Mukwonago, Wisconsin, a bunch of queers gathered in an average-sized classroom to sample expensive artisan cheeses from female cheesemakers and cheap boxed wine from Ray’s Wine & Spirits in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin. It was a festive occasion and everybody left full of wine and cheer, as well as affection for life and for each other in general. “I went to the whiskey thing too,” confessed one reviewer on their official wine-rating card. “I’m pretty buzzed. Wow so many cute women here and I’m a little in love with all the staff,” she noted. “#sogay,” she concluded.

Me addressing the class (photo by Bree)

I can only surmise that other reviewers were also “feeling the love” as our mid-afternoon activity progressed into late afternoon. Participants were invited to rate their wine using this handy chart, which is official and important:

I will now share these reviews with you in order from worst-rated (Scam in a Box) to best (Totally Worth It).

Franzia Cabernet – 2.5 / 6

Price: $17.97 for 5L // $3.59/liter

“A satisfying dry red wine with cherry and plum aromas. Complements beefs and dark chocolates,” claims the Franzia website regarding this wine. Despite a noted lack of beefs and dark chocolates, our drinkers did indeed drink this wine. Compliments, however, were few and far between.

The overall sensation of consuming said wine was perhaps best encapsulated by a drinker who suggested imbibing this beverage while “guiltily taking communion the morning after your first time with a girl.” Several references were made to frat parties as an appropriate venue for imbibing, including the specific sensation of being a high school girl at said parties. Although “pre-partying” was an option on the form, at least one drinker felt compelled to point out that this wine would also be suitable for the “partying” portion itself. One thing’s for sure: either you loved this wine or you hated it. Most drinkers ranked it less than 2.0 or more than 5.0, with very few settling for a mid-range numerical selection.

Suggested re-names for this include “It’s not blood!”, “#Blessed”, “Self-loathing”, “Regret: The Wine,” “BAE <3” and “Surprisingly Drinkable (but in French).” Two people who may or may not know each other but probably should get to know each other offered suspiciously similar names: “You’ve Given Up,” wrote one. “I’ve Given Up,” wrote the other. GET A ROOM, YOU TWO.

A word of warning: a drinker who suggested the name “Box Wine, so that like Band-Aids and Q-Tips, the name of this wine could become universal,” also had an ominous write-in remark: “This gets worse the longer you drink it.” Tell that to the beef and dark chocolate, my friend. Tell that to the beef and dark chocolate.

Black Box Pinot Noir – 3 / 6

Cost: $21.97 for 3L // $7.32/liter

Black Box Pinot Noir, according to their press materials, “displays enticing aromas of strawberry, cherry, and rose petal with complementary notes of toasty oak.” I think we all know the truth, which’s that this wine was inspired by the taste of the deep seawater dripping off the black boxes they find in the ocean after a plane crash.

Black Box Pinot Noir did not delight our guests. In fact, they had little to say about this wine at all, which I suspect is because it was the last wine served. By that point everybody was drunk and feeling good about life no matter what happened next. One drinker suggested Black Box would be a good fit for “pre-gaming before the airport.” Another noted, “Only good if already drunk at A-Camp.” Alternate names included “fruity tar” and “Lots O’ Tannins.” One particularly philosophical drinker suggested, “Where memories are saved when all is lost? Or where memories are lost and all is saved.”

One thing’s for sure: you might be better off mixing some rubbing alcohol with Black Cherry Jell-O before the step where you put it in the refrigerator and turn it into Jell-O.

The Naked Grape Chardonay – 3.1 / 6

Cost: $18.9 for 3L // $6.32/liter

“Our Chardonnay has essence of baked apple and caramel,” claims the Naked Grape website. “Its elegant and creamy palate delivers a mid-bodied chardonnay with lingering fruit finish.” In other words — you know when you’re a child at a Halloween party and there’s a “haunted house” in some hallway and one of the elements of it is putting your hand in a bowl filled with unpeeled grapes that some sadistic and undoubtedly drunk mom declares are DEAD EYEBALLS? That’s these grapes.

Our tasters overwhelmingly felt this wine would be best suited to drinking in the bathroom at work. Many of our drinkers had other scenarios they thought would be ideal for this hot sip:

• Fairly chuggable, great for a last call wedding bar option before the after-party. Grab 2 on the way out, chug before you leave, good to go for the after party. Also good because it is white so when you spill it on yourself while on the dance floor, nobody will know.
• Drinking to get through your 5-year-old cousin’s Christmas concert
• Waiting for the wedding couple to be announced for their reception
• Drinking in a sun shower
• Pretending you made it and taking it to a potluck
• Drinking it in a rain storm while splashing in the puddles
• Removing nail polish
• Watching Stranger Things and/or Grace & Frankie in your underwear

On the taste wheel, we saw many dots migrate towards “non-alcoholic grape juice cut w/water.” Suggested names included “Yellow Crying Water” and “Quickest Route From Point A to Point Drunk,” “Jenny’s D-Lite” and “Grandma’s Table Wine.” Most re-naming ideas referenced apples, meaning that this wine succeeded in tasting sort of like it said it would on the box. Still looking for that caramel, though.

Big House Pinot Grigio – 3.4 / 6

Cost: $19.97 for 3L // $6.65 / liter

A #1 draft pick for the “vaguely fruity” portion of the wine wheel, Big House Pinot Grigio ws notable for its commitment to hipster aesthetics within a genre of product generally beloved by a less design-sensitive demographic. Unfortunately, the design on the right has been phased out in favor of a new design that emanates more of an Alcatraz Gift Shop vibe. I wish I had kept one of the old-style boxes to sell on e-bay to my grandchildren’s friends in 200 years. Nobody ever tells you to save the damp box, you know? AHEM.

“Big House Pinot Grigio boasts a nose full of citrus fruits and a round, soft palate,” claims the website, summoning a horrifying image of nostrils stuffed to the brim with pineapple chunks, “With flavors of grapefruit and honeydew melon to leave you quenched.” Putting aside the fact that honeydew melon is a bullshit fruit used by restaurants who claim that a $5.95 fruit cup contains a variety of fruit when it really just contains honeydew melon and some slouchy red grapes, one of our drinkers found quite a different fruit within their glass, suggesting the name “Sad Pear.”

The most beloved scenario for consuming this beverage was, by far, “After a fight you’re pretty sure was your fault but you’re not ready to accept responsibility yet.” One drinker, who suggested re-naming the wine “Bitch Better Have My $$,” altered this answer on her form, replacing “You’re not ready to accept responsibility yet” with “talking yourself into a self-righteous state where the world is out to get you.” Another added “because you need to punish yourself” to the end of the sentence in its original form. Ladies!

A drinker who rated the wine 6/6 suggested “pouring it into an empty bottle of fancier wine to bring to a party at your boss’s house” and also came up with the lengthy re-name of “cool good sex wine high five carrie brownstein.” Other highlights from the re-naming section include “Wine Mom,” “The Big Hurt” and “Gone With The Wind.” A drinker with handwriting suspiciously similar to Laneia’s proposed the moniker “Ain’t a Hell Yeah But It Ain’t a No Either.”

Bota Box Riesling – 4/6

Cost: $21.99 for 3L // $7.33/L

I wasn’t surprised to see Riesling come out on top, because Riesling is a varietal of wine named after me, Riese, and I am a very influential person. Furthermore, it’s way easier to make a drinkable box of grape juice than it is to make a drinkable box of Cabernet, and in many ways, Riesling is not unlike grape juice. In fact, this cool and refreshing libation scored big on the “Hi-C” portion of the Boxed Wine Wheel.

This wine’s PR materials claim a wide variety of fruit flavors, professing: “Bota Box Riesling is a medium-bodied wine that offers lively aromas of sweet melon, ripe stone fruit, honey and floral notes, followed by flavors of juicy lychee, pear, white peach and a hint of green apple.” It’s practically an entire orchard!

This wine scored big as a “First Date” idea, with details including, “with someone who would be impressed you spent $24 on them.” (Guilty as charged!) Write-in appropriate situations included:

• Apocalypse, or for my gayby’s first wine
• Cooking dinner to samba music like a fucking squid
• Frolicking in a field of ragweed
• Introducing your wine-phobic girlfriend to the joys of wine (or breakfast)
• Testing interactions of new meds with various alcohol
• When it’s the very last thing in the fridge
• Invited a girl over to a pre-party you are throwing and want to NOT serve Franzia
• Sneaking wine in your best friends’ basement after prom right before you kiss
• Literally anything is suitable for this

But would a Bota Box Riesling by any other name taste as sweet? Our drinkers said “yes,” suggesting re-naming the drink “Fancy Welches,” “I Want Candy,” “Juice Juice Baby,” “Sweet Morning Dew” and “Honey Water.”

In conclusion, the best thing about boxed wine is that it comes in a box. Also, you can take the bag out of the box if you want to go tubing.

Liquor On The Farm: A Classic Margarita

My wife and I usually spend holidays and some of January at our respective parents’ farms — hers in Pennsylvania and mine in South Carolina — because I’m an academic and the rest of my jobs can be done anywhere, which is just how I like it. However, this is probably the last year we’ll be able to travel like this; my wife is graduating this Spring, so the academic calendar will no longer be our rhythm. Plus, of course, the prevalence of newly-empowered, newly-out-in-public, unabashed white nationalists* in both of these places might deter us from visiting and spending our hard-earned liberal money in these states. That too.

But in what might be our last hurrah, it’s been fun — we had discussions about whether my wife’s family’s farm should get a cow just so they could teach it to jump like a horse. And we visited this Mexican restaurant we like in South Carolina. We love that place not for the food (though it’s also good), but for the extensive tequila library and amazing margaritas. Ugh. Abby and I spent the 15 minutes before we left for said restaurant doing the margarita happy dance. It’s like the twist, but with the promise of margaritas.

I know it’s not a traditional winter drink, but in honor of what might be the last time for a while that both my wife and I get to have these excellent margaritas at the same time, here’s how to make a classic margarita. Not the frozen kind. The real kind.

You will need:

2 oz Tequila

1 oz triple sec

1 oz lime juice (I’m using fresh!)

a shaker (remember, fruit juice means shaken!)

salt for the rim of your glass

a lime wedge, also to rim your glass

a lime coin to garnish

Remember last month when we learned to rim a glass? Well we’re gonna do it again! Grab the lime wedge and moisten the lip of your glass with it. Pour some salt onto a plate and, holding the glass at a 45-degree angle, turn the glass so the salt sticks to the rim. Set the glass aside. The reason we do it this way and not just by sticking the glass in a pile of salt is so that we don’t accidentally turn the margarita into salt water by letting the salt get on the inside of the glass and then slowly dissolve while we’re drinking it.

Grab your shaker and fill it halfway with ice. Combine the tequila, triple sec and lime juice. Then shake shake shake it up — remember, shaking isn’t just for mixing. The outside of your shaker should be all frosty. That’s how you know it’s cold enough as well.

Strain the margarita into your pre-rimmed glass. Perch the lime coin on the rim and enjoy!

* let me be clear: there were always white nationalists. I’m not one of those people who think that all of a sudden there they are after this election. It’s just that, now that they’re in power, they feel emboldened to be EVEN SHITTIER in public.