American Incognitum
Irish Elk
Celebrate today's feast day of the patron saint of early America with an intoxicating concoction:
The Tammany Cocktail
Mixmaster Old Dominion Tory
offers this recipe:
1 jigger Mount Gay Rum
1 jigger Dark Rum (e.g., Black Seal)
1 T Fresh Lemon Juice
1 T Fresh Lime Juice
Dash of sweet vermouth
1. Fill cocktail shaker with ice
2. Add ingredients.
Shake vigorously and
pour into a chilled cocktail glass.
Stir with a walrus tusk.
3. Variation -- Top with Ginger Beer
I do believe I have my walrus tusk lying around somewhere. Cheers!
Of Andrew, of Patrick, of David, and George,
What mighty achievements we hear!
While no one relates great Tammany's feats,
Although more heroic by far, my brave boys,
Although more heroic by far.
These heroes fought only as fancy inspired,
As by their own stories we find;
Whilst Tammany, he fought only to free
From cruel oppression mankind, my brave boys,
From cruel oppression mankind.
When our country was young and our numbers were few
To our fathers his friendship was shown,
(For he e'er would oppose whom he took for his foes,)
And he made our misfortunes his own, my brave boys,
And he made our misfortunes his own.
At length, growing old and quite worn out with years,
As history doth truly proclaim,
His wigwam was fired, he nobly expired,
And flew to the skies in a flame, my brave boys,
And flew to the skies in a flame.
.
Mrs P, I've found them -- my old walrus tusks! They were indeed in my mom's barn, and need a good dusting. But I do have an extra one if you need a stirrer.
Posted by: MCNS | May 01, 2009 at 02:54 PM
Elk,thanks. Yes. Do you know what you picture made me remember?
One day -- a Saturday-- I was shopping on Newbury Street with a friend near Clarendon- used to be great dress shops there -- and this whomping - yes whomping -Mercedes starts honking at me and the person in the passenger seat is going nuts waving. I lift up my Ray Bans to see who it is and it's the very nice receptionist of more mature years -she was probably my current age. So, it turns out as she told me the next Monday the Mercedes was her fiance's car. Then she started telling me about her fiance - about 15-20 years more mature than her - grew up on Beacon Hill, winter villa in Bermuda and forget where summer home was and she met him when she was selling flowers from a pushcart in Quincy Market. She said he had never met anyone so relaxed as her or words to that effect and said for instance, he likes me to play chess with him. I think that's a little boring so yesterday when we were playing, I excused myself and went into the bedroom and came back wearing a Indian feather headdress, a blanket - and puffing on one of his pipes....
I asked what was his response.
She said his eyes were focused on the game but after I sat down, he, without lifting his head reached up and took his pipe from her. After taking a few puffs from it, aking his move on the chess board, he handed her the pipe back.
I walked back to my office with a better understanding as to how a woman gets a whomping Mercedes....
Posted by: Mrs. Peperium | May 01, 2009 at 04:34 PM
How, indeed.
Posted by: MCNS | May 01, 2009 at 04:58 PM
Bah humbug!
Real New Yorkers are devoted to St. Nicholas!
Posted by: Andrew Cusack | May 07, 2009 at 08:47 AM
Cough, cough. Real New Yorkers don't reside in South Africa....
Posted by: Mrs. Peperium | May 07, 2009 at 09:10 AM