He makes sazeracs, because I taught him to LOVE them.
Hey, if Tejas can claim turning me on to Burning Man (FYI, I bought my ticket long before I ever met him), then I can claim turning him on to sazeracs.
So we’re chatting, and Tejas suggests making himself a Sazerac.
Knowing what this means I ask, “Do you want me to walk you through it?”
Because he has no simple syrup, I advise him to take a teaspoon of sugar and two teaspoons of water and muddle them together with his bitters.
This, he does.
But he ADDS absinthe.
Now, those of you who know cocktails know that absinthe is used as a WASH on the glass, NOT an ingredient.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve tried to drill this into his head, with remarkable failure!
Then, he starts shaking a bottle.
There’s no SHAKING a Sazerac.
You gently stir to incorporate.
Shaking bruises the whiskey, I’m told.
“What’s that?” I ask.
He tells me he’s getting the lemon juice ready.
“Lemon juice?” I ask, “it’s supposed to be a lemon GARNISH!”
As an aside: I like to use orange garnish.
Orange oil works better than with the whiskey than lemon, I feel.
We decided he couldn’t call his cocktail creation a sazerac.
I called it a sazer-yuck.
Tejas called it a quarantini!*
*P.S. Fuck my Sazerac snobbery. Make your cocktail any damn way YOU want to make it. To HELL with the recipe!