Tiki Kava Bar in Hippie Town, Maui

Authentic or canned, I’ll take a Polynesian paradise experience any way I can get it! Along with blissful chillouts on a gorgeous beach with ukelele music nearby, the chickens are wild and the natives are sometimes restless.

During a recent trip to Maui, we drove to the North Shore area and wandered through Paia – a hippie/hipster/beach bum/surfer town beloved by tourists. If there’s a kava bar to be found, it would definitely be here!

A yoga instructor, on her way home, helped me find the parking lot ticketing booth. She was a recent transplant from the mainland, and was “really stressed” about going back to attend a meditation retreat. Had to think about that one.

Kava Lounge

Aumakua Kava Lounge’s entrance was in a corner of a strip mall near the edge of town, across from a church. Soon as you walk inside, the vibe is 1930’s tiki hut with thatched roof, bar stools and charming island theme touches, including mermaid light fixtures. And, of course, the tiki gods! A huge fan of tiki lounges, I was diggin’ this pretty hard.

It was just before sunset, and the kava bar wasn’t crowded yet. Later on, we got a taste of the local flavor – chatted with a couple of sweet guys with salty stories. Just going to say that Paia is a laid-back town with a whole lot of character(s).

History

We wanted to first try straight-up kava in coconut shells – like the traditional ceremonies in Fiji and ancient Hawaii. From what I’ve read, kava is the drink of choice when good things happen, or when you want them to.

In Fiji, kava is traditionally served on special occasions and as part of a ceremony welcoming guests to a village. In ancient Hawaiian culture, kava was offered as a ceremonial gift to ancestral spirits to ensure the prosperity and well-being of the village. Farmers offered kava to the gods to ensure the success of their crops; canoe makers would offer kava to the forest gods while choosing a Koa log for an unsinkable canoe (one hopes); plus, kava was fed to the ocean spirits to bring lots of fish to nearby shores.

The Kava Experience

During Fiji’s welcoming ceremonies with the village chief, guests are seated around a kava tanoa communal bowl, where the dried kava root is pounded. The pulp is then placed in a cloth sack, and mixed with water. The result is a brown liquid – the “Kava gold”. After it’s strained, it’s ready for drinking.

The lounge sources their dried kava roots from Vanuatu, which is ground into a powder. Our hostess mixed and strained the kava in a large bottle of purified water, then served our kava in coconut shells.

The hostess offered us our kava cups at “high tide” (full cup). The kava looked like a brownish tea. We all clapped once, yelled “Bula!”, then drank the entire cup. After that, we clapped 3 times and she shouted something that meant the ceremony was done. Might have been ‘Maca!’ ?

After drinking it, I felt a little loopy. Not drunk or high, just calm and floaty. Makes sense that kava’s been a go-to to relieve anxiety and stress, or even just to get that feeling of calm happiness. Also, there was a little numbness around my lips and tongue. Probably due to it being a nightshade plant.

Kinda gives new meaning to bartenders asking customers “What’s your poison?”

The kava was a teensy bit bitter, but not unpleasant. If you want to bypass the kava ritual and bar (why??), you can get it at organic and natural food stores as a liquid in small bottles. Use the dropper to place drops into your mouth, or into other liquids (like juice) that cover up the taste. You can also opt for kava capsules.

Even better, you can have it in a cocktail!
This kava lounge makes classic cocktails and uses kava in place of rum. And they’re tasty! We had a round of Blue Hawaiians and Hurricanes.

I would love to partake in a traditional kava ceremony with a village chief in Fiji, someday. Until then, I’m down for the faux ritual prep, followed by clapping, shouting and drinking at the nearest kava bar with friends!

Bula!

Even more fun than a recipe, here’s a video on how kava is made, Hawaiian-style:

Screenshot courtesy of YouTube

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_{Written and Photographed by Alexandria Julaton
Credits and References:
https://www.konakavafarm.com/articles/history.html
Wikipedia
https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/kava-kava
https://royaldavuifiji.com/the-traditional-fijian-kava-ceremony/
https://www.fijiresort.com/what-is-a-traditional-fijian-kava-ceremony/}

The Bard & Banker: A Tale about a Pub, a Poet, and Damn Good Ale

 

There it was.

Early afternoon in downtown Victoria, and the sight that made my eyes go all sparkly  – a Scottish pub (Bard & Banker), an English pub (Garrick’s Head), and an Irish pub (Irish Times), all in a row. Or as I like to say, just staggering distance from each other!

 

And as a bonus, right smack in the middle of the English and Irish pubs is Bastion Square, where locals watched public hangings back in the day, then hit the nearby watering holes afterwards for some conversation. I love a town with a rich history!

How do you gentrify a site of gruesome, tragic history, plus make it trendy again? Tourism!

 

In addition to being a lover of classic cocktails and hard spirits, I am a huge fan of craft beers. Expanding my horizons has been very good for the soul. Having never tried a Scottish ale, I decided today was the day!

 

 

Bard & Banker was beautiful inside, shiny yet cozy, with its cream walls, dark wood, and many chandeliers. Awfully fancy for a Scottish pub, I thought, as I headed for the bar (Hint: It used to be a bank).

As I sat down, I beheld yet another wondrous sight: A place of honor for their best Scotch whiskys! Next to it was a shelf for the rest – bourbons, vodkas, less special whiskeys, etc.

 

 

I told the bartender I wanted a Scottish ale. He handed me a menu, and there it was – big, bold red letters, burning into my eyes and brain, like Destiny: Stone Fired Scottish Ale. I ordered it immediately, and was told it was a fine choice.

 

 

“Barkeep”, says I, “What be this ‘Phillips Robert Service’?”

“Phillips is the brewing company”, he replied, “As for ‘Robert Service’, aye well, there’s a tale!”

The bartender hurried to the other end of the bar, and brought back my ale, a poster, and then the tale.

 

 

Robert Service started his career working as a banker in Scotland, like his father. During that time, he devoured books on poetry by Browning, Keats, Tennyson, etc., and started composing some of his own. He later moved to Vancouver BC, and wandered up and down North America, doing odd jobs, falling in love, hitting his family and friends up for money, and having one crazy adventure after another (something about a cowboy outfit, a bordello in Mexico, and so forth). During that time, he published several pieces.

This guy! There oughta be a movie!

While honing his poetic prowess (and being flat broke), the “Bard of the North” got a day job as a Banker, at the Canadian Bank of Commerce in Victoria BC. He rented a room upstairs, in this same building where he worked. And the building later became the bar where I’m sipping this damn fine Scottish red ale named after him – one of the finest craft beers I’ve ever tasted!

 

 

This Robert Service Stone Fired Scottish Ale, it was absolutely delicious – rich, flavorful, yet light and fresh!  I highly recommend you order this beer when you’re at the Bard & Banker in Victoria BC. , or anywhere else in the world, if you can get it!

Robert Service’s journey continued to the Yukon, where he had many more adventures that inspired some of his most famous poetry. I’m envisioning a web series of the Bard/Banker’s adventures. Think of the creative liberties the writers could take, on top of an already amazing story!

One of his funniest and most popular poems is the famous “The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail“. Below is a snippet. Click the link if you want to read the entire poem:

“…”There’s been a run on cocktails, Boss; there ain’t an ice-worm left.
Yet wait . . . By gosh! it seems to me that some of extra size
Were picked and put away to show the scientific guys.”
Then deeply in a drawer he sought, and there he found a jar,
The which with due and proper pride he put upon the bar;
And in it, wreathed in queasy rings, or rolled into a ball,
A score of grey and greasy things were drowned in alcohol.
Their bellies were a bilious blue, their eyes a bulbous red;
Their back were grey, and gross were they, and hideous of head. 

And when with gusto and a fork the barman speared one out,
It must have gone four inches from its tail-tip to its snout.
Cried Deacon White with deep delight: “Say, isn’t that a beaut?”
“I think it is,” sniffed Major Brown, “a most disgustin’ brute.
Its very sight gives me the pip. I’ll bet my bally hat,
You’re only spoofin’ me, old chap. You’ll never swallow that…“

Cheers!

 

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All photos taken by Alexandria Julaton

 

Holiday Spirits: Barrel-Finished Cocktails

I had the genius idea of my ski-buff boyfriend and I staying at a hotel in Park City, Utah, just walking distance from the slopes. While he was playing in the snow, I’d be downtown feeding my wanderlust.

Being a flatlander, I have never been higher than 700 feet above sea level, unless I was on an airplane. Found out the hard way that high altitude sickness was an actual thing. Plus, it was a real b—-!

In a couple of days, the vomiting stopped and headaches were mercifully less frequent. Eventually, the dizziness and shortness of breath eased up, too.

My boyfriend told me that when his parents were in Peru, they were given “cocaine tea” to help with their high altitude sickness. The proper term is “coca tea”, which is coca leaves boiled in water. Note: Chewing the leaves or drinking the tea could get you a positive drug test for cocaine. And yet I would have KILLED to drown my misery in gallons of that stuff from day one!

While exploring downtown Main Street, I wandered over to a side street and found the High West Saloon. Their distillery is a few miles away but, sadly, tours are on hold during these Covid times. At the saloon, they served up their award-winning spirits in a shot glass, in a cocktail, and in their food.

The saloon was a mellow, chill place to grab an appetizer and a very tasty Boulevardier, made with their own American Prairie Bourbon. I liked my cocktail so much, I had to come back the next day. Both times, I forgot to take a pic of the exterior, probably coz I couldn’t wait to get inside. So the screengrab below is from their site.

One of the things I noticed on my way to my table was a “shrine” to their barrel-finished Manhattan.

On their menu, I saw that they featured two cocktails finished in their whiskey barrels – the Manhattan and the Old Fashioned. I’ve only ever seen barrel-aged hard spirits, such as gin or tequila. Plus, one of my favorite whiskeys, Angels Envy, is barrel-finished in port wine casks.

But barrel-finished COCKTAILS? Didn’t know they existed, so I needed to explore this further and deeper!

The next day, I went back to the saloon, scored outdoor seating, and texted my boyfriend to meet me there. While waiting for him to show up, I enjoyed this view from across the street.

There were two barrel-finished cocktails on their menu, so we had to try both. First the Old-Fashioned, then the Manhattan. I preferred the Old-Fashioned. Props for the torched orange peel as a finishing touch! As for my boyfriend, the barrel-finished Manhattan, also very delicious, rocked his world. He bought a bottle at the gift shop to take home.

I gotta say, I am loving the process of aging and finishing hard spirits in barrels recently used for some other liquor! The whiskey barrel finish gave both cocktails added dimensions in their flavor depth, sweetness and aroma. There was an indefinable something; the first word that leaped to my mind was ‘savory’. The next was “extraordinary”.

To anyone visiting Main Street and Park City, Utah, the whiskeys and cocktails at High West Saloon are highly recommended!

Cheers!

Additional sources:
http://www.newperuvian.com/drinking-coca-tea-drug-test-results/
https://www.highwest.com/saloon.php

CORN Vodka?? Hmm…

Last weekend, my man surprised me with a 1.75 liter bottle of vodka, one of those huge bottles with a handle. The vodka came highly recommended by his “spirit” guide at the liquor superstore. I stared at the massive bottle with open skepticism, and said out loud, “This better be good!”

At 40% alcohol and 80 proof, it had respectable stats. Then I twirled the bottle to see:

“Distilled from…CORN”??

Nothing against corn; I’m a huge bourbon fan, and prefer to drink it straight. But vodka, though…what the hell IS this, moonshine??

My eyes instantly narrowed with hostility and suspicion! I’ve tried other vodkas, made from distilled potatoes (Monopolowa) and grapes (Trader Joes, I love ya but come on now!). And I’ve always ended up running back to the waiting, open, comforting arms of grain vodkas.

But…I had to keep an open mind. Corn vodka??
Hmm…

Right above “Crafted in Texas”, the bottle stated on its label that it was “six times distilled”. My first thought was, it’s like traveling around the world, trying out cuisine beyond your comfort level, and finding the answer to the age-old question of “Is anything pretty much edible, if it’s deep fried enough?”

So it was time to set up the testing environment. With The Smith’s “How Soon is Now” playing on my virtual assistant app, I pulled out a slim, sexy shot glass, and started pouring.

The Smell

First I sniffed it. If I got even the smallest whiff of turpentine, or any strong odor at all, it’s going down the drain. But, nope, it smelled clean. Slightly sweet because of the corn, and not at all like rubbing alcohol.

The Taste

Took a large sip, held it in my mouth, and let it slowly trickle down my throat as I breathed in and out. Fairly smooth, with minimal burn (I mean, this is hard liquor after all, not water).

So, yup, turns out this corn vodka is smooth enough to use for 2-3 ingredient cocktails, and smooth enough to drink straight. Okay, I don’t know if all corn-based vodkas are distilled this much to get this smooth, but this one was truly made for easy drinking.

I tip my hat to y’all, Texas!

A Quarantini Cocktail: The Mint Julep

 

So your favorite watering-hole is closed down by the pandemic. Or popping by for a pint while bars are opening at half-capacity (or less) in phases means waiting in line, or making a reservation days ahead.

Fortunately, there’s a solutions for these: the Quarantini! But not having an impressively stocked arsenal, like your favorite bar does, means working with what you’ve got.

So what’s a girl to do? What, indeed.

 

 

The only explosive growth I’ve seen this early summer is the mint plant in my garden. And, like they say, when life hands you mint, make juleps!

 

 

The mint julep has been around since the 18th century, and is still the official cocktail of the Kentucky Derby. It’s been featured in classic literature, such as Gone with the Wind and The Great Gatsby, as well as in stories (rumors?) about some famous writers.

William Faulkner would sometimes go behind the bar at Musso & Frank Grill in L.A. to make himself a mint julep. Ernest Hemingway threw a fit and smashed his drinking glass against a wall at a bar in France, because the bartender served him a crappy mint julep.

Given the extreme reaction to his cocktail, my guess is the base spirit was something NOT bourbon. I mean, I get it. The man was heartbroken, obviously.

As luck would have it, an American tourist was also at that bar with friends. Seeing this outburst, he procured a bottle of Makers Mark from his satchel, thus calming the writer’s rage with a properly made drink.

I sometimes use Makers for this cocktail. Today, though, I’m using Woodford Reserve Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey.

 

 

The ingredients:

1 teaspoon sugar
Bunch of mint leaves
Crushed ice
2 ounces bourbon

Add the sugar.
Put the teaspoon of sugar in a mixing glass. I use Baker’s Sugar, which has finer, smaller granules than regular sugar, so it dissolves more quickly. If you’re using regular sugar, just add about a teaspoon of water to dissolve it completely.

Add the mint.
After you add the bunch of mint leaves in the mixing glass, just press them gently and firmly with your mixing spoon, or muddler. You want to extract the oils without tearing up the leaves.

 

 

If you use a muddler, DO NOT pound the leaves; you’re not making a mojito! Besides, breaking the leaves releases its chlorophyll, which can make your julep taste a little bitter.

Add the ice and bourbon.
Pour some crushed ice on top of the mint leaves. Now add your bourbon, and give it a couple of stirs.

 

 

Work on the presentation.
The cocktail is almost ready for its big moment! Pour the mixture into a highball glass.

Heap more crushed ice, and place a mint sprig on top.

Stir until the glass feels chilled, then add a straw for sipping.

 

 

And now enjoy your summer day with another classic cocktail!
Cheers!

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Sources:

The Mint Julep. The Right and Wrong Ways to Make the Simple Classic.
The Complete History of the Mint Julep

The Smoking Cocktail

One warm summer evening, I was suddenly surrounded by a flurry of pink. It was everywhere – feather boas, hats, tutus, bags, cocktails. There was a charitable event going on and ladies were swarming the town.

I ducked out from all that activity into an alley where I found a cozy bar with large industrial machine parts as theme decor.

As I looked through the drink menu, this stood out almost immediately:

SMOKEE MUSKOGEE • ROCKS • 12
jack daniels honey whiskey, lemon juice, lime juice, simple syrup, cedar plank smoke

Cedar plank smoke?? You saw that right, the bartender said with a smile. I ordered it right away, dying with curiosity as I waited for the show. The bartender came out of the backroom with his ensemble, including a blowtorch and a wood plank.

It was SO butch!

 

Other customers turned to watch, as he held up the piece of wood and torched it to a fiery glow. It was so close that I could smell the burning cedar.

 

 

While the flames were still dying down, he placed the burned wood plank down in front of me, then inverted a rocks glass over the char.

 

 

I stared fascinated at the roiling smoke captured in the glass, but also wondered nervously if the glass would suddenly explode and shatter from the air pressure and heat.

 

 

I was suddenly distracted by the bartender shaking up a cocktail – one of my most favorite sounds in the world (am I right, Nick Charles?). He poured about an ounce of the cocktail into a small glass and set it aside, but kept the rest in the shaker.

 

 

In a few seconds, he turned the rocks glass upright. With the smoke still inside the glass, he poured in the cocktail, infusing it as the smoke slowly drifted up and around the rim.

I was given the small glass with the ounce of cocktail, to first try the cocktail without the smoke. It was delicious and fresh.

And then I tasted the smoked cocktail.

 

 

Mind blown! It was AMAZING! The smoke infusion gave the cocktail depth and dimension that no other ingredient on a bartender’s shelves ever could. Now I’m wondering what other cocktails can be smoked and taken up several notches.

This definitely made it on my shortlist of greatest cocktail experiences and cocktails that are simply beyond!

Cheers!

Distilled Discovery: The Liberty Distillery

 

 

It was late morning when I walked out into a perfect Spring day – rainless, sunny and cool enough to wander aimlessly for hours. I took the Aquabus ferry across from dowtown Vancouver BC to Granville Island, with its sensory-overload foodie paradise markets, art galleries and curiosity shops – one of my favorite places on earth. I usually go before the crowds arrive, so I could get to my treats fairly quickly.

 

 

After loading up on gourmet treats, I wandered beyond the markets. Beneath the bridge on Johnston Street, I saw the sign for The Liberty Distillery, creator and purveyor of fine liquid spirits – mainly vodka, gin and whiskey – since 2010. I opened the door for a peek, and was pulled inside by a loud, friendly Scottish accent and a good-looking barkeep.

 

 

Not being Happy Hour yet, there were a few people inside. I chatted up the bartender about Scottish and Irish history for a bit,

From the bar’s seating area, I could see the handmade copper stills and other equipment where their liquor is distilled and fermented onsite. According to their website:

The Liberty Distillery chose CARL, Germany’s oldest distillery fabricator to custom design our stills because of their rich 140-year family tradition and uncompromising dedication to aesthetics, design, innovation, and patented ‘aroma plates’ in the rectification columns.

 

 

Eventually, I decided to taste two of their gins: Endeavour Gin and Endeavour Old Tom.

Their Endeavour  Gin was created in the London Dry style, boldly fragranced and flavored by a blend of 10 botanicals, including juniper and citrus. Instead of a smooth finish, this gin had a bite. Definitely a gin to have as a martini, with vermouth to tame its spicy personality.

 

 

The bartender told me about a gin’s Navy strength, a term that came from the days when hard liquor was transported by Navy ships. In case any of the liquor leaked or spilled out of the barrels during transport, the warship’s gunpowder had to be able to still ignite even after being soaked in it.

But being stored in barrels has a price, due to its porousness. Some evaporation occurs during the aging process, about 2%. All that wonderful liquor rising up to the heavens has been called the “angel’s share”.

 

 

The Endeavour Old Tom was a different story. This gin was stored in French Oak barrels for several months, during which it gained both its deepened flavors and interesting mahogany color. I held the shot glass up to my nose; fragrant and heady. The flavors that came with each sip were complex and many – more fruit-ish than fruity, like a pastry would be, but balanced and smooth. On top of that, the oak added that extra level of sublime and deep character.

Waves of blissful joy. As a whiskey and bourbon lover, this was my kind of gin!

 

There were bottles on the showcase shelf that looked like they held something liquid in a very pretty shade of pink. They were the Endeavour Pink Gin. Yes, PINK gin! Of course, I had to have a shot!

 

 

The Endeavour Pink was a “limited release” gin, due to its seasonal main ingredient – wild rosehips. The berries, combined with the juniper base, resulted in a fresh, flowery fragrance enjoyed by my palate and nose.

Like a booze-y kiss from a rose.

And the pale, beautiful pink hue added to the whole experience. Sadly, at $45.99/bottle, plus sin tax, this was destined to become a recurring memory instead of a repeat experience. Ouch!

 

I’m looking forward to coming back for these creative, expertly crafted gins on my next trip to Granville Island. But next time, when I’m not tipsy from gin shots, I’ll definitely give their cocktails a try.

 

Pics of Endeavour Gin bottles courtesy of the Liberty Distillery website.
All other photos by Alexandria Julaton.

 

Cocktail Backstory: The Communist and Tom Collins

 

A perfect martini should be made by filling a glass with gin then waving it in the general direction of Italy.” – Noël Coward

 

 

“Barkeep!” says I.
“Aye, miss, what shall I make for ye?” says he.
“I would like a cocktail…with an interesting backstory.”

The gauntlet was thrown, and he met the challenge with two words,”Communist Cocktail.”

 

 

He didn’t know the details, but said the cocktail’s name had to do with the era during which it was created. As I sat waiting for my cocktail, he handed me a book entitled, “Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails”.

 

I looked up The Communist:

“This enjoyable number with the unforgettable name derived from a crude and otherwise quite forgettable cocktail pamphlet from 1933 titled Cocktail Parade. As photographers say, though, it just takes one picture.”

 

 

Huh. Not much of a backstory. When my drink arrived, turns out it wasn’t much of a cocktail, either. My reaction after a couple of sips was a shrug and a “Meh.”

It became apparent that the only thing this cocktail had going for it was its cool name. And clearly, it did belong in a “Forgotten Cocktails” book. Not only should it be forgotten, they should also put a “Do Not Rescucitate” warning next to the recipe.

 

 

Here’s a cocktail that actually has somewhat of an interesting backstory:

Tom Collins

Back in 1874, someone decided to play a joke a bunch of New Yorkers. He’d go to one person, asked them if they knew someone named Tom Collins. “Nope, never heard of him.” they’d say. Then they’d be told Tom’s been bad-mouthing them all over town, ruining their reputation. Of course, the enraged person would go on a revenge-seeking manhunt for Tom Collins, ready to lynch the slandering bastard.

This would be done over and over again to different people, until what began as one upset person became a vengeful, angry horde. This lame joke went so viral it became “The Great Tom Collins Hoax of 1874.”

One bartender decided to capitalize on this trend by creating a cocktail called Tom Collins. Anyone popping into his bar looking for Tom Collins would end up ordering the cocktail. Hilarious, right?

Here’s a youtube video, in case you wanted to try making this at home. The recipe itself is after the post.

Click on image to watch video

 

Corpe Reviver #2

This cocktail doesn’t have an elaborate backstory, but I like the name. In my last blog post (Cocktails – Craft versus Cool), I ordered a Corpse Reviver #2. When made properly, it’s actually one of my favorite cocktails. Interestingly, it was one of several other concoctions of the same name that was originally created in the 1930s as a hangover cure…

Hangover cure = Corpse reviver.

Get it?  :^  )

 

 

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Tom Collins Cocktail
Recipe courtesy of New York Times

2 ounces Old Tom gin (like Ransom)
1 ounce simple syrup
¾ ounce lemon juice
Soda water
Lemon wedge, for garnish
Cocktail cherry, for garnish

Shake gin, syrup and juice with ice until chilled, about 15 seconds. Strain into an ice-filled highball. Top with soda water. Garnish with lemon wheel or wedge and a cherry.

 

 

 

Stripper Nachos and the Margarita Lesson

 

What could possibly make quittin’ time even better? Happy hour!

My girlfriend Renee was meeting me after work. I worked through lunch so that I could leave early and snag us a table at the bar. Downtown bars filled up fast during happy hour with people trying to score cheap eats, house drinks, and someplace to go to wait out the horrible traffic.

Renee was my newest gal pal, so I wanted to pick out a nice bar for our first meetup, one with extensive happy hour offerings. She liked Mexican food, so I figured a nice, upscale Mexican bistro with a death fetish and flaming coffees would make for a great impression. I think she mentioned she was vegetarian, so I ordered non-meat nachos from the happy hour menu as our starter snack. And of course, a good, solid margarita (this place uses fresh lime juice, not sweet and sour mix) to celebrate the end of the day, and the beginning of a new friendship!

 

 

I chatted with the bartender a bit, told her I noticed they made margaritas with just tequila silver, a blanco, as opposed to a reposado or anejo. She explained that because the anejo and reposado were smoother and sweeter than the blanco, they would make the margarita too sweet and the tequila too difficult to detect. Plus the anejo and reposado, being aged and smoother, were more expensive than the blanco. Mixing them into margaritas would be wasteful, and should instead be enjoyed neat.

 

 

A few minutes into my margarita, I texted Renee to see if she was still coming. When I looked up, there she was with her sparkly hazel eyes and grinning red lips. Even after a full day’s work, she looked wide awake and unstoppable! I offered her the nachos while she was reaching for the cocktail menu. “Oh, I can’t.” Renee said apologetically. “I’m vegan, gluten-free and dairy-free.”

We scoured the menus for animal-free/gluten-free items and came up empty. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just order a side of carrots.” This place was a fail and utterly unacceptable. I was open to suggestions.

 

 

Renee was familiar with the dietary restrictions food scene, and suggested a place I’d never heard of that was just a few minutes away. The entrance was in a narrow, seedy alleyway. Fortunately, it wasn’t completely dark yet. But at this time of year, 4:30 pm was sundown.

 

 

Looking at it from outside, I thought, “Wow, what a hole. Renee comes HERE?”. Walking in, I noted that the place was small but clean, and did have a respectable bar with a good liquor selection. The prayer candles were an interesting detail, too. There were lots of them, for whatever reason. I decided to trust and roll with it.

 

 

It was still happy hour, so we could get deep discounts on food, well drinks and cocktails. Renee ordered vegan nachos and I got tacos. In my experience, happy hour margaritas were mostly fruit-flavored sugar water with almost no tequila, and the one I had there lived up to all my expectations. Still, the food was really tasty.

 

 

Halfway through my drink, I needed the restroom, and was told to go through this strange door to get there. The signage confused me. No minors allowed in the restaurant, or no minors permitted to use the restrooms?

 

 

As I opened the door, the first things I noticed were darkness, and loud throbbing music. Not the clubby, dance-y kind you’d bounce to while sipping your appletini; more like the slow, grinding raw kind you listened to while sullenly throwing back shots. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a silent crowd drinking, watching young pretty girls on stage writhing, swaying, and whipping their hair around.

On the dimly lit path to the bathroom, I had stumbled into a labyrinth of sin and nubile flesh that left nothing to the imagination. I watched as men walked up to the stage and shoved their dollar bills into unmentionable places on ladies bending, kneeling, waiting to receive their treat.

Where the hell was I??
Oh. Right. I’m at a Mexican restaurant that shares bathrooms with a strip club, of course.

 

 

I took no pictures of all this because the bouncer seated by the door was looking at me like that would be a really bad idea. Seeing the ladies prance and dance with money tucked into their naughty parts really made me think about the dollar bills in my wallet. Oh, the places that paper money may have been. I think I’ll be transacting on a credit card-only basis from now on.

From that day forward, to Renee and me, that restaurant was code name: Stripper Nachos.

Cocktail Etiquette: Surviving a South Korea Drinking Party

South Korea has really got it going on.

After spending the past four decades integrating with the high-tech industry on a global scale, it succeeded in becoming a major player. Currently the world’s 12th largest economy, it has joined “the trillion dollar club of world economies”, according to Forbes.com.

South Korea’s capital, Seoul, is one of the most visited cities in the world. Downtown is a hodge podge of working stiffs, captains of industry, hipsters on their smartphones at cafes (ironically, of course), and some of the wildest, most creative fashion trends in clubs throughout the city.

With the Seoul train just zooming along, who wouldn’t feel like livin’ it up Gangnam-style?

Video “Gangnam Style” by PSY

But before you start throwing back shots of soju – the local liquor and focus of this post – there needs to be precautions and proprieties in place prior to partaking (yes, I did have fun saying this out loud five times). These just ensure that, even if you wake up in a pool of your own urine wearing someone else’s underwear, you’ll have a shred of dignity left after last night’s booze binge, knowing you adhered to proper drinking protocols. Well, for the most part, anyway.

Just a few rules. It’ll be painless. Trust me.

One of my girlfriends, Jessica, had recently visited relatives in South Korea and received an education in the local drinking culture from her cousins. Soju, she explained, is a rice-based liquor similar to China’s firewater, baiju, and is cheaper than buying water at grocery stores. As for drinking etiquette, when someone pours soju into your cup, you have to pour some into their cup in return. Be sure to use both hands when serving the drink. Also, the drinking cheer is “Gunbae!”

According to my brother, Mac, who lived in South Korea for a couple of years, when soju is offered by a host who is older or in a more senior corporate position than you, it is very impolite to refuse. You must accept the drink with both hands, then acknowledge the toast and drink the entire shot in one go, but only after they have chugged theirs.

He also says five glasses is the “proper” amount to drink of any Korean hard liquor served (which is usually soju). Three glasses is too little, and seven is too much. This applies to dinner parties, formal events and evenings out with business colleagues.

In conclusion, whether it’s with friends or during a hoesik, which is networking or dining with co-workers, drinking is a “social glue” used to really get to know someone. Refusing alcohol not only makes you a buzzkill, but also rude. If you’ve reached your limit, your best strategy would be to accept the soju, then discreetly pour it into a water cup or under the table.

Now that you’ve got these rules down and are ready to join the soju-guzzling party crowd in downtown Seoul, you’ll soon find there are few laws in South Korea against public intoxication. With convenience stores selling cheap hard liquor at all hours, try not to trip over passed-out co-workers on your way to the next bar tonight.

Cheers!

Sources:

http://blogs.wsj.com/korearealtime/2012/11/29/as-south-korea-tackles-drinking-culture-samsung-sets-guidelines/ http://travel.cnn.com/seoul/drink/business-travelers-guide-drinking-korea-213012 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/travelnews/10956078/The-worlds-most-visited-cities-in-2014.html?frame=2421807 http://www.forbes.com/places/south-korea/
Photo credits: Seoul aerial view by Jessica Chang; Downtown at night by stickerstack; Soju by imagesbykenny; Drinking two bottles by kconnor; Shot glass by hilarycl

Dating Tales with Cocktails: The Bad Touch (Lady Finger Cocktail)

Samantha’s Story

I was at an upscale whiskey lounge one evening with my gal pal Samantha (not her real name), celebrating her recent interview at the Starbucks corporate office. Sure it was an interview, not a job offer (yet), but in this brutal job market, you celebrate every victory, even small ones.

After studying floor-to-ceiling beverage options, flipping through the whiskey bible and consulting with the bartender, we settled on a fine choice: A shot of Dalwhinnie single malt scotch, followed by another. Diageo’s 15-year-old was a definite crowd-pleaser, with its smoothness, aroma and lingering flavors of honey and peach. It’s no wonder it won a gold medal at the 2015 San Francisco Spirits Competition. A perfect scotch to sip through tales of dating drama.

Sam’s relationship with her man had been pretty stormy lately. I asked if she had a Match or Tinder account yet. “Oh my god, dating SUCKS!”, she replied loud enough to raise eyebrows across the bar. “I still remember how awful the guys were before I met Jason (not his real name), which is why I’ve stuck with him. Seriously, I went on a lot of dates. A LOT! And, oh man, the stories I could tell you!”

Sam moved from Some Itty Bitty Town, Washington to big sparkly Seattle for grad school. She made a few half-hearted attempts at exploring the city, but still felt awkward not knowing where anything was or anyone to show her around. Tom, who went to the same grad school, had seen Sam wandering around downtown alone a couple of times. Eager for a friend and grateful for his attention, Sam accepted Tom’s invitations to cafes, movie houses and bars – anyplace a couple of dirt-poor grad students could have a good time, for not a lot of money. Plus, Tom was not a bad-looking guy.

After another heavy makeout session at his studio apartment, they decided they wanted to take it to the next level. Sam, with her unusual Russian-European beauty, had been with plenty of men. Plenty. She had a healthy sexual appetite, and was up for just about anything.

But not this.

“Stick your finger in there,” Tom said, lying naked on top of the sheets with his back to Sam.

“You want me to stick my finger in…” Sam felt she couldn’t finish her sentence, even as she tried to not sound like some blushing naive bumpkin.

He had told her it felt so good, in ways he couldn’t even describe. There are so many nerves clustered in that little area that the pleasure centers are overwhelming, he explained. So not wanting to be a silly spoilsport, she continued to play along, moving her finger to the spot he directed her to. For all her impressive experience with men, she had never rubbed anyone’s prostate gland before. Now if she could only just find the damn thing.

Weird, she thought. What WAS that? Something floating…disturbing texture…she started to pull her finger out. Something dark and squishy was on it! Tom suddenly grabbed her hand and shoved her finger back in. Oh my God, she thought, was that feces?? “EW EW EW!”, her mind screamed even as she rubbed his prostate gland. Since his back was to her, Tom couldn’t see the shock and disgust flitting back and forth on Sam’s face that whole time.

After he had climaxed, Sam told Tom she needed to leave. Something on her research report she realized she had forgotten to add. Sam also decided she needed to get out more and make other friends, since she had no intention of hanging out with Tom ever again.

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The Lady Finger Cocktail
(courtesy of absolutdrinks.com)

1 part gin
1 part cherry brandy

Combine, shake with ice, serve neat.