And the customer says,
“No, I don’t want similar, I want the
same. If I order a glass of gin and you
give me a glass of vodka, well that’s somewhat similar but that’s not what
I want.”
OK, got that? So,
last night at the happy hours (note the plural – 4 till 7) at Figaro Bistrot,
in Los Feliz, I ordered their Mini Martini, gin of course, which looked like
this:
It was very good indeed. And after I’d drunk it I ordered the “same
again,” and it was scarcely similar at all.
It looked like this, and trust me, it isn’t just the vagaries of digital
photography, and an extra olive, that makes it look different:
It was similar
to the first drink and it wasn’t at all bad, but it was also significantly
different.
And I spent a certain amount of time trying to work
out what the difference was. Was there
an excess of vermouth, had a heavy hand splashed in an excess of bitters, was
it a different kind of gin? I eventually
concluded that the barman had, by accident or design, made me a slightly dirty
martini – by the addition of a little olive brine. By the time I’d reached this conclusion, I’d
already drunk half the drink, and it was obviously too late to send it back,
and it probably wasn’t worth sending it back anyway, it being a cheap happy
hour mini martini, but still … it wasn’t in any sense "the same again."
Incidentally,
Anthony Burgess did supposedly invent a cocktail in the
1960s called Hangman’s Blood, thus:
“Into a pint glass doubles of
the following are poured: gin, whisky, rum, port, and brandy. A small bottle of
stout is added, and the whole topped up with champagne or champagne surrogate.
It tastes very smooth, induces a somehow metaphysical elation, and rarely
leaves a hangover … I recommend this for a quick, though expensive, lift.”
You probably wouldn’t want the
same again after one of those, right?
perfect for right before they hang you...
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