Drinks I have known and (almost) forgotten

There are three drinks that will never again pass my lips:
• Stones green ginger wine
• Mercury cider
• Scotch whisky.

When I think of these, I think of them on the way back through my mouth. Yuck.

You’d think I would feel the same way about port after the cask debacle/s – but I can sip a post-dinner glass these days (not, however, if it came from a cask).

The most amazing drink I have imbibed was something called a Pan galactic gargle blaster from Rockefellers in Salamanca Place. I was underage and it was blue and bubbly and arrived in a fishbowl with multiple straws.

Another revelation was the worm. I can’t recall exactly how it went but it was a shooter with a squiggle of grenadine coated Advocaat suspended in something clear.

For a while, vodka and orange, vodka lime and lemonade, and Southern Comfort and Coke were the drinks de jour. But they’re too much like lolly water for my middle-aged tongue.

Important things I have learnt about drinks:
• Pernod is something to watch other people play with – it tastes vile
• paint your nails pink if you’re planning to drink Cosmopolitans, so you’ll match
• Midori and lemonade only tastes like cordial (ditto Anything Cooler or anything and raspberry) – it sneaks up and packs a punch.

Which reminds me, a couple of years ago, I had an intense crush on lemonade icy poles (Kirov lime vodka and Coke). Even though they’re brown and alcoholic, they taste like the real on-a-stick deal.

From the first taste, white wines progressed predictably from the cheap and sickly (fruity lexia), via moselle and riesling to chardonnay. There was a slight detour when I discovered sauternes but it hurts my teeth just thinking about the sweetness. After a brief and torrid fling with pinot gris, I settled in to a steady affair with sauvignon blanc.

I have never been much of a red wine drinker – the headaches aren’t worth it and it turns your teeth grey. But the progression went much as the whites – from bubbly, syrupy Maglieri via merlot to shiraz. I never did grow in to the big (or even the medium) reds – except in a boeuf bourguignon.

These days, a glass of sparkling is just the ticket to kick off Friday night drinks (I had Moët once and was disappointed but I was very taken with Bolly) and a G&T (Bombay Sapphire) is perfect on a summer Saturday. A nice Marlborough sauvignon blanc (like Oyster Bay) is the norm with dinner. A Bailey’s over ice is a terrific nightcap.

My penpal tells me absinthe is quite the experience, though what would possess anyone to drink something green that tastes like liquorice is beyond me – even if it was in the form of something called ‘green fairies’. Perhaps it was novelty value. Apparently, the ritual goes like this:

Put a special flat spoon (with various shaped holes) over the top of your glass. Put a sugar cube on the spoon. Pour your absinthe shot over the sugar. Light the sugar cube. If you get flaming bits of sugar dripping into the glass, that's a green fairy. When the fire goes out, pour cold water over the remainder of sugar cube until it’s melted. The absinthe turns from clear greenish to a honeydew melon cloudy light green. (Chemistry in action.) Add ice cubes and have at it (if you’re feeling brave).

I suppose I can’t bag him out too much. The other night, my son had me try a Flaming something or other – bourbon and apple juice. *Shudder* Let’s just say it was a waste of good apple juice.