Hey, it’s Tuesday. It’s everyone’s favorite day of the week here on The Jackie Blog. Because instead of droning on an on about my cats or my preference of bathroom sink water over kitchen sink water or my discontent with adult life, I talk about something new I’ve tried.
If you don’t know the drill, check out the link at the top of this page called “What’s Lollipop Tuesday?”
I’d like to think I have a constant influx of newbies here that need to be told what Lollipop Tuesdays are. Let me dwell in my self-constructed reality.
Moving on. This past Sunday, I took the plunge and invested in an alcohol mixing class. Yeah. Mixing alcohol. They have classes for that. It’s called ‘mixology’. Isn’t that wild?
I had structured my entire day around this 3-hour long course, set at one of the hippest bars in the city. Because I’m incredibly anal and tightly wound, I called the morning of to ensure that the details I had taken down for the day were all still correct. I tried to talk myself out double checking everything, but sometimes the crazy really takes over and there’s no stopping me. And hey, wouldn’t you know the location was changed and the time was pushed back by half an hour and no one bothered to contact me to let me know?
Things like that do nothing to cease the crazy.
Anyway I showed up pretty livid and fully prepared to give the teacher a piece of my mind. What right does he have to run a class, charge a fortune, and then fail to communicate changes to that class to the attendees? I booked it two months ago! But just as I was all fired up in a mind-driven hailstorm, I was taken aback by how totally cool the thing was.
The thing. You know, the whole deal. The setup.
The new choice of venue had a huge wraparound bar, which was preset with mats, a variety of glasses, and all the cool tools one would need to make a killer cocktail. There were pretzels, chips, glasses of water, huge televisions to watch when you didn’t feel like listening to where the drink “zombie” originated or about the tiki trend of the 70’s.
So. Cool.
It. was. awesome.
We learned three drinks, which we made ourselves all at the same time. We did things like light oranges on fire and put twelve different ingredients into one single beverage. We used fresh fruit, we made our own whipped cream – it was glorious. The teacher had a great story about being a cocktail chef in Atlanta and so on and so forth. He had drinks that won awards, and he placed well in competitions. And while I was happy to know I didn’t just throw my money at any ol’ fella with a cooler full of liquor and a black shirt, I didn’t really care about all of that. What I cared about was that he was the kind of guy would come try your drink and tell you how to adjust it. He would come over and sneak a little extra rum into your glass if you like a stronger kick. This guy brewed his own coffee and brought it in canisters to be chilled and used for a super fantastic drink that was some sort of divine espresso manna from heaven. He even gave out his cell number to everyone so that if we’re at a party or the bar or even at home and we misplace the recipes he emails us after the class, we can ask him a question on the fly.
It’s always awesome to watch someone who is wrapped up in their passion, and even more awesome when they share it with you. Even if you have to pay. In fact, for such experiences I will very happily fork over my hard-earned American dollars.
Now, don’t get me wrong – I don’t think I’ll be repeating any of those drinks. They were delicious and lovely, but it’s all I can muster to keep Frosted Flakes and milk in the house at the same time. I sincerely doubt I’m going to be able to keep cherries, pineapple, white rum, aged rum, brown sugar, whipped cream, and an armload of other ingredients stocked for when I feel like whipping up a cocktail.
But it’s still totally cool to know I can do it if I want. ♣
The Jackie Blog 