Monday, March 24, 2008

"Old man, you give those dogs another piece of my food, I'm gonna kick ya till you're dead."

All my talk of bourbon left me in want of a good Manhattan cocktail -- the good Manhattan I was denied on Saturday when a Park Slope bartender served me up an unfortunate shaken concoction of bourbon and sweet vermouth. So last night my roommate Libby and I dipped into the good stuff at home -- Hudson Valley Baby Bourbon -- and polished off the tiny bottle while watching streamed copies on her laptop of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (how apropos for Easter, yes?) and Moonstruck from a Chinese website.

When done properly a Manhattan is like a smoky elixir, dark and complex as it swirls around the glass, and I made sure to add the bitters. Libby agreed with me that a well made Manhattan is hard to come by in the city (unless you got the big bucks to frequent such places as Death & Company, Milk and Honey, or Pegu Club). So we relished the three drinks that each of us had, which probably explains why my head hurts a little this morning.

1 comment:

jesse james said...

Ah, you had me at Moonstruck... and then again at bourbon.