Red, Hot, and Blue

Thursday, October 29, 2009Koala Crop
Blue Moon Martini

I meant to post this last night but didn’t get to it – the evening kind of got away from me and then there ended up being so much more to write about that, well, it ends up in here.  Tonight’s cocktail was the Blue Moon Martini, a lovely mix of 6 parts gin and 1 part blue curacao, garnished with a lemon twist.  I’ve actually had this before, when I first got this martini recipe book (as a Christmas gift from my kids … hmmm, I think that may be the sign of a problem there, but we’ll discuss that at some other point), this and my next drink were two of the ones I wanted to try because I’ve always liked blue curacao in margaritas.  I don’t bother with the fancy twirl of  a lemon twist for just me, I usually just take half a lemon slice and twist it to put a few drops into the drink and then drop it in. The cool thing is that it turns blue by the time you finish the drink, which makes it interesting when you dump it out to fresh your garbage disposal. Look!  Blue lemons!  What can I say, it’s the simple things that entertain me.

The Blue Moon is a nice drink.   Again, for me, I’m not a huge gin fan, so the curacao softens the gin for me.  Tasty, drinkable – might go well with mild Mexican food or as a post-dinner drink, as it is a little sweeter, but not excessively so.  Good for when you want a sweeter drink but don’t want to go full-on and order a chocolate martini.  Especially if you aren’t a fan of chocolate.  Although if you don’t like chocolate, well … I think that’s just downright un-American or something.  Although my kids aren’t big fans of it.  My ex used to say that I probably ate so much chocolate while they were in utero that they overdosed on it before they’re born, that could explain it.  Plus they’re boys.  To me, chocolate is always more of a chick thing anyway.  Back to the Blue Moon, I digress – respectable 4 stars, maybe even 4.5 if you are a particular fan of blue curacao, which, I have no idea what the origin of that particular liquor is.  Awww, wait, here we go … gotta love Wikipedia:

Curacao is a liqueur flavored with the dried peels of the laraha citrus fruit, grown on the island of Curacao.  It is not naturally blue, the color is added just to make it look exotic.  The fruit itself is apparently quite bitter.  You have to wonder, who thinks of these things?  “Yes, let’s dry the peels of this skanky, bitter fruit and let them soak in alcohol for a few days and see what happens.”  Apparently it used to be a Valencia orange but didn’t do so well in different soil.  Hmmm.  This was actually quite educational:

My evening didn’t quite end at this point, however.  I recently got back in touch with an old high school friend on Facebook, and after I finally got my kids to bed for the night, we ended up chatting about our various perceptions and misperceptions of one another from high school years, now going back close to (yikes) 30 years ago.  I was enjoying the conversation, so I decided to mix up another martini, one of my two favorite varieties. Left to my own devices, I will either prefer a very dry Ketel One martini, or what I would call a “hot and dirty” martini – Ketel One shaken well with a generous dose of olive brine and a few shakes of Tabasco sauce, three or four sprays from my vermouth mister (yes, I actually own one) into a chilled glass, plus three bleu-cheese stuffed olives.  I prefer pepperjack cheese stuffed olives but BevMo recently stopped carrying them, which I am rather irritated about.  Alas, it’s not like I can boycott the place for that since they sell everything else I use!  So I made the hot and dirty martini and enjoyed that with another good hour of online chatting before heading off to bed.  I had the biggest crush on this guy back in 10th and 11th grade, when I was the stereotypical nerd/awkward dork and he was the stereotypical jock and class president.  Would I be interested in him now, thirty years later?  No idea.  Probably a topic for my other blog, and besides, I’m already seeing someone, not that my current relationship isn’t without its own complications.  Hmmm.  No wonder I drink so much.  At any rate, it was a nice evening …

Now let us get to the following morning.  The same guy I was chatting with online the previous night has been encouraging me to try yoga.  Not just any old yoga, but Bikram Yoga, also known as “hot” yoga.  Basically a class consists of working through multiple reps of 26 different yoga postures over the course of 90 minutes, in a 105 degree rooom.  Okay, the first part of that sounded maybe possibly tolerable, but throw in the last part and I’m starting to think I’m going to end up in some postmortem discussion of an Arizona sweat lodge incident, wondering why I didn’t just leave before I yakked up breakfast or died.  But the last two trips to the orthopedist have both told me I had osteoarthritis in both knees, and I just got an injection of cortisone in the right knee two days ago.  I need to do something to limber myself up before I freeze up like the Tin Woodsman sans oil.  And I don’t mind a nice sauna, although I’ve never stayed in one for an hour and a half doing exercises, either.  But I was determined to try.

This was where the two martinis from the previous night kind of became a problem, I would imagine.  Although I did dutifully drink probably a good quart of water before the class started over the course of my morning, and brought water with me, I can’t imagine that all that gin and vodka from the previous night was really the smartest idea in lieu of what I was doing on Friday morning.  To my credit, I did only go out of the room once, about 70 minutes into the session, when I thought I was either going to pass out from heat exhaustion or explode.  I went into the bathroom and splashed cold water all over my face and head, looked up into the mirror, and wondered why on earth someone hadn’t stuffed my head into an octagon-shaped mold and stenciled “STOP” across my face – it was THAT red.  Oy vey.  Some women look really sexy when they work out, they get flushed cheeks and a faintly sweaty glow.  I am not one of those woman. I never have been.  I either look bright red like I have scarlet fever, or I get this pasty white and sweaty look that makes you think you should call the paramedics and check my pulse.  Neither is overly flattering.  My Facebook chat friend told me that after I try the Bikram yoga for awhile I may start to have certain revelations about myself and my change my tastes and cravings for things.  Like giving up martinis?  Good grief, I would just have to give up the yoga first. 

Yes, I’m kidding.  I would honestly give up the martinis for the sake of a healthier body if I had some epiphany that told me I needed to do that.  Friday morning was pretty darn close, or at least it reminded me – stick to one drink!  Especially if I plan on spending the following morning in a sweat lodge.  Live and learn, I say.  Live and learn.

Your hostess, Cathy


~ by rachelroust on October 31, 2009.

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