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Why did it take thirty-nevermind years of life for me to discover the Presbyterian?

A few months ago, a gaggle of us went to Little Branch, one of the elder statesmen of the New York/pre-Prohibition style/pay-$14-for-a-cocktail-and-beg-for-more temples of cocktailing. Little Branch’s menu does things a little differently that other bars of its ilk — in fact, let’s diverge for a paragraph or two and talk a bit about that, the organization of cocktail menus. (God, what a cocktail dork I am; this stuff actually excites me.)

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Remember when I first started this blog and for a scant time held weekly “You Name It!” contests for as-yet-unchristened cocktails? Don’t worry, it’s okay that you don’t. The point is, naming cocktails is not my forte.

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We had some friends over yesterday afternoon (U know who U R! Luv U lots! Stay as sweet as U R! SIT!) to do some cocktailing, so I wanted to start this week with the drink that ran away from the pack, the hands-down favorite, the one cocktail to rule them all!

How freaking good am I talking? What Stephanie said: “I would wear this as perfume.” Michelle: “This is the Most. Intriguing. Cocktail. I have ever tasted.” And then more Michelle: “I would order a second one of these just so I could spend more time with it.”

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