Me vs. The Machine: I PWN C0ckta1ls! Part One + The Waldorf

[xraytheenforcer]

So, about a month ago we (the magazine) called in something known as the Lazy Drinker. This is a machine that is supposed to fulfill all of your cocktailian needs -- a cooler, a bunch of Tygon tubing, Solenoid-driven spigots, compressed CO2, and a computer with a huge database of completely undrinkable swill (a main ingredient for many seems to be Southern Comfort).

Now, I say that this shit is an abomination -- make your own fucking cocktails, pay someone humanoid to do it, drink beer, or just get the fuck off the sauce altogether. So we devised a contest: Martha vs. The Machine**. We both mix cocktails, and the various editors, friends, fact checkers, interns and hangers-on judge who makes 'em best (vs. who can make 'em fast. I know the machine will kick my ass in that arena).

We (web editors Megan and John and I) spent TWO DAYS trying to get this thing together and functional; TWO DAYS during which my vulture-like colleagues sniffed around the good-quality booze Megan and I had laid in for the experiment (Patron Silver, Plymouth gin, Ketel One, Old Overholt). No, motherfuckers, you cannot have a cocktail, now, at 2PM when I have pages to go to the printer tonight. Feh.

Well, tonight my pages were out. We still can't get the fucking LAZY-AS-FUCK Drinker to function properly. But I relented and made the web editor a Hearst Cocktail (aka The Disgruntled Journalist). Next thing I know, our news editor has swiped the vodka and is MIXING IT WITH GATORADE. WTF?!?! I got 2 kinds of vermouth, cointreau, all the fixings for a whole passel of cocktails including margaritas...and you take my high-end vodka and splash in some Gator-fucking-ade. Pearls before swine, yea verily.

I'll still beat the tubing off the Shiftless Drinker -- who else you gonna complain to about your wife leaving you and takin' the dog -- and I DON'T make cocktails called the Mexican Clit, the Flying Purple Masturbator, or anything that calls for HypnotiQ, Alize, or bears the name of a racial group and a sex act.

To quench the existential, cocktail-based pain (and to celebrate having broadband in the apartment again), a recipe:

The Waldorf Cocktail
2 oz. Rye Whiskey
3/4 oz. Sweet Vermouth
2 dashes Angostura Bitters
Ricard

Add Ricard to the mixing glass, swirl, and the discard. Add ice to the mixing glass, then remaining ingredients. Stir, then strain into a cold cocktail glass. Bitch about the no-class put-ons (knowning full well you've had more than your fair share of gin-and-juices in the past.)

**The whole ordeal will be on the web at some point. I'll post links soon enough.

Comments

[kalbear.livejournal.com]

Oh you bitch. :)

Gatorade + anything is horrible. It's not even a ghetto drink - it's a ghetto drink that tastes like ASS. I mean, fuck, how hard is it to get cranberry juice? It's not. Ugh.

Have you tried Voyant? It's chai liqueur that tastes awesome. IT's a great substitute for baileys, and I hate baileys normally.

[xraytheenforcer.livejournal.com]

sounds interesting. If I find it, I'll give it a whirl.

As for the Gatorade -- I actually left work at that point, I was so annoyed. I couldn't stand around for the blasphemy.

[goovery.livejournal.com]

oooh... I've got to try that. Is it chai that's more savory/spicy, or is it sweet like what Starbucks uses for chai?

(oh, and Gatorade + any alcohol worth drinking = nasty. Actually, Gatorade on it's own is pretty nasty.)

[kalbear.livejournal.com]

Well, gatorade isn't bad when you need it, but if you're just sitting around and drinking gatorade? You're an ass.

It's like starbucks chai. It's not super good chai, but it's an interesting enough drink anyway.