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Guest post by Joshua Brown, a St. Louis-based, full-time technology geek and part-time bourbon connoisseur
I’m a sucker for “old timey” cocktails, particularly those that have gone out of mainstream favor. I think this comes from a love of the art of cocktail crafting, frequently lost now where the most quaffed drinks tend to have a list of all their components in their names (“Jack and Coke,” or “Gin and Tonic”). This affection of mine—born, I suspect, from watching my father opt recurringly for the venerable Manhattan—hasn’t always cast me in a favorable light in the eyes of bartenders. In one case, I had admittedly pushed my luck too far at an open-bar gala. I started with a Manhattan (familiar enough), moved to a Sidecar, and then crossed the line in ordering a Sazerac. This was met with a dumbfounded stare, and then a, “Godammit, nobody drinks that old shit anymore!”
Today’s drink was born in a time where the word “silent” in front of “movie” was itself unspoken as the default.
I’m not the most romantic gal. I don’t need my drink to be pink just because it’s Valentine’s Day; a well-made Manhattan will always do just fine. (This was confirmed on Friday night, when my husband and I went out for an early V-Day round of rye perfect Manhattans at the original P.J. Clarke’s — specifically so we could gawk at this guy; the hubs has not stopped gushing about his “bartender mancrush” since.)
What I wanted to make for today’s cocktail was a concoction that simultaneously embraces and flouts every V-Day cliche on sale at Rite Aid: The pink, the chocolate, the faux-coyness, the girly-girlyness, etc. What I came up with is, in effect, a chocolate and blood orange Bellini. It’s quite palatable and easy-downing; it’s nothing too rough/jaded/forward but it’s still got complexity; and it’ll getcha toasted long before you realize just how toasted you are.