A few times you hang out at a friend’s house past midnight and you get nominated to go into the kitchen and figure out how to whip up a round of cocktails from emptied liquor bottles, backwash, tap water, stale coffee, triple sec and flat soda. Somehow you put together something palatable, and soon you gain a rep as always being able to “make something out of nothing,” which is an AA term that means “will drink vanilla extract.”
Other times you start to get that cat-scratch-fever feeling in the back of your throat, and you know you’ve got a cold coming on, but you’ve also got a blog post due. That’s a good time to remember that wack highball you once assembled — a potion so ass-backwardsly diluted, it’s not nice to the word made to say you actually made it. A drinkable entity that kinda tastes like Creamsicle, or those gritty, Technicolor pastes the dentist used to give you a teeth cleaning when you were little. Which is apt, because in times like these what you want is a cocktail that tastes like medicine and childhood and 100% of your Vitamin C RDA and a nap and ice-cold, back-of-the-throat numbness and hazy alcoholica all at once.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the Ghetto Fabulous.
The Ghetto Fabulous
A shot of Licor 43
Fill a totally inappropriate receptacle — this morning’s coffee cup, rocks glass your dead grandmother pilfered off a cruise ship — with ice cubes. Pour in your shot of Licor 43; don’t measure it, just two-finger that shit or do a 1-2-3-4-5-6 fast count. Fill to the brim with Sunny D. Stir with something likewise ridiculous, like this morning’s coffee stirrer or your finger. Gulp. Fuck it.
You may have noticed by now that I love Licor 43. Someday when I’m feeling better I’ll talk about why. For now, it suffices to say that its honey and vanilla notes are what make the Ghetto Fabulous taste like a Creamsicle, but also like something with honey that a more mature caretaker would make for you when you’re feeling under the weather. Like, I don’t know, tea.
Did you know that Sunny D pulled a KFC? The name on the bottle is no longer Sunny Delight; it’s just a shortened Sunny D. Also, didn’t they used to sell it in a handled jug, packaging that led you to believe it was more juice than soda? Because it’s in a soda bottle now, in the soda aisle. I went looking for it in the chilled dairy section, then asked a store worker if he knew where it was by mimicking a one-handed, jug-handled pour. Stupid.