Fucking Badass Sangria

Ingredients
1 standard size bottle of Merlot
Sweet and sour mix
Sugar
1 Mango
Lemons
Limes
1 Orange
Cherries (in a jar)
Can of crushed pineapple
Sprite

Sangria. It means bloody in Spanish. It's also incredibly fucking tasty. Every year I have a "cocktail of summer" (last year it was the mojito) and, while sangria isn't really a cocktail, it's the selection for this year. It's my fucking tradition, so I do what I want.
Sangria is pretty simple, actually: red wine (or white wine if you're making sangria blanco), fresh fruit, something to add a bit of sweetness, and either brandy or soda. So long as you stick with this simple formula, you can really do whatever you want. Want to use kiwis, grapefruit, and tangerines? Go for it. Honey to sweeten? Shine on you crazy fucking diamond. It's so simple that it must have been invented by drunk people. Like, legitimately drunk people. Just sitting around the hacienda one day, completely shit housed, and someone says, "Dude, let's take all the wine... mix it with all the fruit... some other shit from the cabinet... then, like, fuckin' let it sit there for a while." Drunk brilliance is really the best kind of brilliance.

Why not Just Buy a Bottle of Sangria?
Because fuck you, that's why. Also, homemade sangria tastes ten times better than sangria from a bottle. Not to say I haven't bought a bottle or two in my time, but when I can make it from scratch, I do. Here's my recipe.

Mojito Part 2: La Moderno

What You Need
Granulated cane sugar
Carbonated water (soda, seltzer, sparkling... just don't use tonic)
Fresh limes
Fresh mint
Light/White rum (decent quality, Bacardi or higher)
Ice
Highball glass
Jigger
Shaker

The classic mojito is like Desi Arnaz... a bit dated, but still fun, enjoyable, and pretty badass. You've made the classic mojito and enjoyed it, but as far as I'm concerned, there are a couple of problems. First and foremost is inconsistency. As many times as I've made them, every fucking one is different and it's next to impossible to get it just the way you like it. Personally, I like a nice kick of mint in my mojito. The classic I made for this blog ended up having more lime than mint. Sometimes I'll get it too sweet, or not sweet enough, or overly minty. The reason for this is our second problem... the use of a muddler. Muddling isn't very precise, especially when you're working with three ingredients. Plus, a bent spoon will work in a pinch, but if you're going to make these semi-regularly (and you are), it'll get real old real quick. I cannot justify owning a specific tool that is used in just one fucking drink. Luckily, our two problems have one solution... a little thing I like to call mint infused simple syrup. It's an easily measurable, easily mixable replacement for both the mint and the sugar, making the mojito la moderno a lot like Cuban model-turn-singer Mayra Veronica... trim, sleek, and just about perfect.

Mojito Part 1: The Classic

What You Need
Powdered sugar
Carbonated water (soda, seltzer, sparkling... just don't use tonic)
Fresh limes
Fresh mint
Light/White rum (decent quality, Bacardi or higher)
Ice
Highball glass
Jigger
Shaker



Summer is slowly approaching and it's time to start thinking about my summer cocktail for 2011. This has been a personal tradition of mine for about five years... each summer I seem to pick one cocktail and stick with it all season long. Last year was the summer of the mint julip, a southern classic. This year, the mojito has her Cuban claws deeply embedded.
As far as I'm concerned, the mojito is a perfect cocktail: not too sweet or heavy with a great flavor and plenty of zest (from both the rum and the lime). Plus, Ernest fucking Hemmingway drank them, and the only thing that man liked more than drinking was killing shit with huge guns. He is truly a man to be emulated.
This is part one of a two part series, focusing on the classic Cuban mojito. Part two will be a my more personal twist on the drink... but it's important to know where you come from, so here's the classic.

Motherfucking Booze Time: Stouts and Porters

Today is Saint Patrick's day and, more importantly, I'm heading to New Orleans tomorrow. These two things are pretty much unrelated... I'm going to Louisiana to see some friends for spring break and I don't need a fucking holiday to tell me when to drink. Everyone knows the best time to drink is now, followed closely by later. However, Saint Patrick's Day and my trip do have one thing in common: they're both to be a celebration of my favorite kind of beer.
I like my beer the way I like my women: dark, cold, slightly bitter, and filled with alcohol. Stouts (also called porters, but we'll get into that fucking subject later) are the darkest and among the most alcoholic of beers. Now, I'm not one to drink something just because it's loaded with booze... but when you're looking for something with a powerful taste, alcohol comes with the territory. I can't handle the generic, pissy beer taste of your Budweiser and Miller Lite. I want something with some balls. Whether you're a beer drinker or not, I urge you to give a stout a try. It really is a whole different league as far as flavor goes... and, hey, they even make some of them with chocolate.

The History of Stouts or The Best Way to Get Too Drunk to Carry Shit

The history of the stout/porter dates back all the way the 1700s. Like most booze history, the actual story is a little fuzzy at first... getting wasted for 300 years tends to change shit. Allegedly, the grandfather of the porter was actually a blend of ale, beer, and really fucking strong beer called Three Threads. This was a drink of the working alcoholic, primarily ship and street porters a.k.a. people whose job is to carry heavy shit. This was the primo drink for about thirty years, until a brewer managed to brew a single beer that had a similar taste (or it might have been brewed just because... this is one of those fuzzy areas) which he called Entire and the rest of England called porter after the folks that drank them. This same brewer was the first to age beer BEFORE it was sent out to the drinking public, lending even more punch to the brew.
Porters, along with dark, extremely alcoholic beers in general, were hot shit until about 1800, when the first pale ale was brewed. Tastes changed and porters got milder and milder, until most breweries stopped making them all together, leaving them behind as relics of a drunken century. With the micro-brew revolution, everything that was old is new again, and stouts are back in a big way.