So I’m wondering where Hanukkah Harry is, and realizing something is wrong. You got it, my fellow inebriates—I’ve been forgetting to leave a treat out at bedtime.
How could I forget? We do this every Christmas Eve for Santa, who, it turns out, is probably my dad scarfing down the cookies after midnight.
But Hanukkah Harry is real; other, more reliable people than my parents have attested to his existence. So what sort of drink would make him feel welcome in our house? Why, a Hanukkah Gelt Martini.
Now, we’re talking! But what is gelt? Ahhh, money, often distributed as part of the Hanukkah tradition. So what makes a martini a money martini? Why, Goldschlager, of course! So why don’t we have any of this festive, gold-flecked booze in our house?
My mum won’t buy Goldschlager because she says it’s frivolous and no one wants cinnamon schnapps (excuse me? no one?). My dad won’t buy it because he doesn’t want to ingest any heavy metals. This seems like wussing out to me—back in the 1970s this guy staged-named Monsieur Mangetout ate all sorts of metal objects, piece by tiny piece. Over the space of two years he ate a Cessna 150, for crying out loud. So if some wingnut can survive consuming a plane, I don’t see why my dad couldn’t knock back a few gold flakes.
Gold is inert, which means it passes through the body with no consequence. You don’t even have to lube up your digestive tract the way Monsieur Mangetout did with castor oil before he consumed bikes and televisions. The Goldschlager flakes are 24-carat, so they pass harmlessly through you, and they’re so tiny they don’t even give you sparkly poo.
Now, if Goldschlager contained gold salts, it would be a more toxic matter. Then you’d be looking at falling hemoglobin/platelets, proteinuria, pruritis, rash and—OMG—diarrhea!
Monsieur Mangetout claimed he never had diarrhea, although he did die at 57, which isn’t so hot. That dude sometimes ate a pound of metal a day. So why is my dad being such a lightweight?
A 750-mL bottle of Goldschlager contains less than 0.1g gold—about $6 worth. Not only can my dad afford to buy it; he can afford to drink it without getting diarrhea.
Anyway, the Goldschlager’s not for my dad; it’s for Hanukkah Harry. Here’s how you make a Hanukkah Gelt Martini:
- 2 parts chilled potato vodka (Luksusowa if you’re my parents; Schramm if you have more money)
- 1 part Goldschlager (not kosher—hope that’s okay, Harry)
Combine in a martini shaker with ice, then mix and strain into a chilled martini glass. Come and get it, Harry! If you arrive tonight, I’ll think of another, non-diarrheic drink for tomorrow.
One thought on “Harrrrryyyyyyy! I’ve got a Gelt Martini chilling for you!”
Must try this Bear. Believe I may have mentioned the odd connection between gelt and guilt in a previous post….
BTW so far have a new set of ‘wears. toe socks (with a Christmas theme which is pretty cool and non-denominational for a guy who killed someone’s alleged savior) and a fabulous bottle of Champagne. No really. the real deal. From Fraaaance. Champagne Montaudon.
Served to Grand Prix winners in Europe and at UK Royal Weddings this is being saved for New Year.
Sorry Harry, the Christan/Julian one. Can’t see this wonderful bubbly sitting around until September while I try to find the damned shofar in the basement.
Best part; Local fave beverage store is the only outlet in all of northern Nevada that carries it and -drumroll please- it was $2.00 off.
Tasted today and it was sublime, although I do not normally care for a Brut. A+++++ Would drink again.