A rakish look calls for an elegant rakish cocktail. Let me suggest a Blood Orange French 75.
Even by today’s standards, the famed Scottish poet Robert Burns lived a very fast life. Also known as the Ploughman Poet, he fathered numerous illegitimate children and had too many love affairs to count.
It’s always good to have a few tricks up your sleeve. For the Brits amongst us, the old “pair of aces… aaaaaannnnd another pair of aces” à la Del Boy of Only Fools and Horses fame is always a good one.
Every now and again I am lucky enough to be
extended an unusual invite. One which
immerses me in a pool of talent and knowledge
crafted over generations.
What better way to arrive for a dinner built
around the wines consumed by James Bond in
“Goldfinger” than an Aston Martin.
Is it a wise idea to hand a loaded rifle to a
drunken (albeit very well dressed) man? If the
wine is sublime and the suit is snazzy, and of
course its all within the right context, the
answer is always YES!
I try to be generous. I skip a few days here and
there. I don’t count them. I’m sure there are
days when I was sick, or when there was
no gin. In the interest of fairness, I should
shave a few days off each year for that.
Considering how much bubbly (and specifically
Krug) I’ve guzzled down in the last few years,
months, weeks, days... I should know a little
bit more about the special suds, but alas
my expertise in the subject is somewhat
limited to just consumption.