|The NC Double Shot Round of 64, Flight 3: I-Pi|
|May 20, 2011|
Today, we have some Lemon Drop confessionals and underage drinking from Bunting, as well as my promise to every one of you that if Pimm's doesn't make it through this round, I will hunt you down and make you drink expired eggnog. So, read up, drink up, and then vote (up)!
Confused? You can find answers here.
1 Martini / Gibson vs. 16 Pink Lady. I used to have a boyfriend who refused to eat potato salad because it had too many white things in it all together. The potato and the egg and the onion…he couldn't deal with it. Everyone has their weird food whatevers, but I never understood that one until reading the ingredients in a Pink Lady. Cream and egg white? And grenadine? The drink looks delicious and chic on those diner placemats, and hat tip to the Pink Ladies in Grease, but the recipe is gnarly, and even if it sounded okay, oh my God I love a dirty vodka Gibson so much. I don't drink martinis often -- it's, like, twice a year -- but it's a classic drink, and it is so elegant just to look at, the angles of the glass and the toothpick and the round olives or onions. Put on a dark red lipstick, get a half dozen oysters to go with, and you feel like a real big shot. It's not just a drink; it's a costume, kind of. A story waiting to happen. ["I concur. A martini -- gin is my preferred kick -- is pure and clean. Pink Lady is the exact opposite, all unnecessary frills and pouff." --Keckler]
That story sometimes takes the form of an instructional manual on how to get fucked up fast on a hot day, but no matter what the weather, the Pink Lady is getting fucked up for real. Martini/Gibson by a landslide.
8 Lemon Drop vs. 9 Mimosa. I didn't know the Lemon Drop came in proper grown-up cocktail form. I've always known it as a shot, and it is that shot, and its 14 brethren, that inspired me to test my heterosexuality by making out with a lady in the bathroom of a Gramercy dive "for science." Maybe it wasn't the Lemon Drops -- she had very shiny hair -- but that is one delicious drink. ["Did you make out with Buffy Summers's sister or something?" -- Keckler] So is the Mimosa, though, and it's a brunch standard; it's probably considered classier than the Drop, or at the very least less likely to lead to Darwin-Awardian adventures at the Groggy Beaver or whatever the hell that shithole was called. As we've noted before, though, some people loathe champers, so I don't know what wins. Probably the Mimosa.
5 Pina Colada vs. 12 Mai Tai. I loved a Colada back in the day, and if you can only order one drink at the float-up bar in your hotel pool that has rapids in it, it's obviously that one. But I find them too sweet now, and given a choice, I'd probably go with a Mai Tai -- or, as Mr. Stupidhead called it when ordering one at a float-up bar at age 15, a "Tai Mai." He got it, too, little bastard. I think it's a closer race than the rankings suggest, with Coladas prevailing in the end.
4 Pimm's Cup vs. 13 Mint Julep. I love bourbon; I love most "muddle" drinks; I don't like juleps at all. They've got a spoiled-toothpaste thing going on, and the aftertaste is just icky. ["The first time I ordered a Mint Julep, I wasn't expecting something so…rubbing alcohol tasting. Now, I've grown to love them. But not more than Pimm's. After all, I am that kind of annoying Anglophiliac." --Keckler] Sorry, Kentucky Derby -- it's Pimm's Cup all the way. I had a Cup with blackberries subbed in once and I nearly fainted from joy; I just love them. Pimm's for the win.
6 Long Island Iced Tea vs. 11 Kir Royale. I've never quaffed an LIT that wasn't a dog's breakfast of whatever cheap booze we had left over from a college formal, dumped into a plastic pitcher with a squirt of flat Pepsi on top and downed for the sole purpose of getting drunk in a hurry. I've never had a well-mixed one, and even if I had, I'd prefer the Kir -- but it's an acquired taste and doesn't have much staying power (i.e., one's usually enough). This one belongs to the Guyland.
3 Manhattan vs. 14 Old-Fashioned. Both drinks my dad orders all the time, but modded with bourbon. I like Old-Fashioneds okay, though it depends on the mix, and while a good one is really good, alternating sweet notes and starchier ones, a bad one is just sticky and kind of rancid. (The maraschino is a harsh master.) But a bourbon Manhattan is truly heavenly, and happily it's very tough to fuck it up. Not a huge difference between these drinks, really, but Manhattan wins.
7 Irish Coffee vs. 10 Margarita. Another hot-weather/cold-weather choice -- sorry! -- but for me it's an easy one. Unlike my esteemed colleague, I have no use for hot booze; my idea of a "toddy" is a shot of applejack with a tea chaser. It's just not my thing. Regardless of season, I prefer margaritae, especially the classic salted-rocks-highball verzh. I don't remember why we ranked it as low as we did, but we'll live to regret it, I think. ["My excuse for any and all mistakes in this bracket is: 'We were drunk.' 'But Keckler, it was 10:30 in the morning!' 'Shut up, Bunting!' We were drunk." -- Keckler] Margarita wins easily.
2 Mojito vs. 15 Kamikaze. I have never, not once, seen or heard anyone order, or drink, a Kamikaze since I graduated from college. Then again, in college, we didn't drink Kamikazes, so much. We reclined in Barcaloungers while fratty bubelatties poured the ingredients directly into our faceholes and yelled, "KAMIKAZEEEEEEEEEEEE!" We survived Kamikazes. That said, they sound…kind of good! I don't love the aftertaste notes of vodka and Triple Sec separately, so together, it could get barfy, but I might try one soon and see how it goes -- if only to commemorate the Kamikaze's short stay in the NC Double Shot, because the Mojito is going to flatten it, and rightly so.