VIU MANENT ESTATE MALBEC (2009)—LB gets shafted again on a booze opportunity

The house was quiet last night, which is both always and never a good thing.

It meant five hours of quiet contemplation (good), cursing my paws’ inability to open bottles (bad), enjoying safety from pre-K torture (very good), but wondering if my parents were drinking wine without me (heinous).

And indeed they were. Someone had invited the family to an open house.

Now, I would never invite my parents anywhere. They do not know how to conduct themselves. Typically they blunder around trying to make small talk until one or both of them finally realizes they can’t comport themselves without alcohol, and next thing you know they’ve downed several glasses and wrestled somebody into a conversation about transubstantiation or genetic engineering or abortion. And then an invitation doesn’t come the following year.

Nevertheless, some well-meaning persons invited my parents to their home and off they went without me. Reportedly there was a sumptuous feast (don’t care, don’t care) and a selection of lovely wines (YEAH!).

After installing the kids in the basement to watch “Elf,” they made a beeline (I’m sure) for the decanter, which held VIU MANENT ESTATE MALBEC (2009). You remember we tasted an Argentine malbec not so long ago, so I would have liked to get in on this. But unfortunately I have to rely on my parents’ limited tasting notes:

“Dark and fruity (!!—it’s made of fruit, dumbass parents) with gentle spice and smokiness; supporting notes of chocolate and licorice with medium finish. An accessible, easy-drinking wine and a good choice for parties.”

Their hosts made the right choice decanting this wine. I don’t know how long any given bottle at the party was able to open up, with my parents holding their glasses out every two minutes, but a good malbec particularly benefits from decanting and tends to reveal a different character every quarter-hour if it’s allowed to sit.

My parents were very lucky to be invited to such a lovely Christmas Eve gathering, and bastards for not taking me along in a purse or pocket.

Merry Christmas, my fellow inebriates. Raise a glass to peace on earth.

 

6 special treats to put you on Santa’s list tonight

My Fellow Inebriates,

Tonight’s the big night, and whether we have the faith my friend Scarybear has in Santa or we’re just maintaining an elaborate and costly ruse that will one day shatter our pre-tweens’ faith in us, most of us are leaving a treat out for the big guy.

So what’s on the snack menu?

Why Santa Has a Naughty List

drinknation.com

  • 1 oz gin
  • 1 oz amaretto
  • 1 oz banana liqueur
  • ½ oz grenadine
  • Sprite to taste

Add gin and amaretto to an ice-filled Collins glass. Add sprite, then grenadine, then banana liqueur.

Grade: B-

Overly sweet; let’s hope Santa has his insulin with him when he knocks this back. The elves might like it, but it might cause too many pee breaks for their boss’s liking.

Black Santa

  • 1.5 oz vodka
  • ¾ oz coffee liqueur
  • ¼ oz mint schnapps

Mix with ice, then strain into a martini glass.

Grade: B

Nice balance between the coffee and mint with a vodka kick laying the foundation. The only downside is it won’t stay cold for Santa.

Candy Cane Cocktail

  • 1 oz vanilla rum
  • 1 oz Godiva white chocolate liqueur
  • 1 oz peppermint schnapps
  • Candy cane garnish

Shake the booze in a cocktail shaker with ice, then strain into a glass. Garnish with a candy cane.

Grade: B+

Yummy, with candy on the side for the under-aged elves. On the negative side, it won’t stay cold, but on the plus, it’s so delicious it doesn’t matter.

Sugar Cookie Jell-O Shots

Grade: B

Even more yummy, but requires prep—too much prep time, planning and ingredients, all of which defeat this furry alcoholic. Worth it if your mum will do the work. On another note, the kids might consume it by mistake and—voila—easy bedtime, parents.

Six-pack

Grade: B+

Plus: You can put out a cooler for Santa by the stockings and leave him some nice, cold brews. Minus: Santa’s leftovers look a bit seedy the next day when the kids wake up.

Bottle of red wine

Grade: A

Include a stopper and a paper bag so Santa can take it with him and continue imbibing on his sleigh. He’s not really driving, right? It’s Rudolph doing all the sighting, so you just have to make sure that little reindeer doesn’t get any. Put an anti-reindeer sign on it and you’re cool.

Harrrrryyyyyyy! I’ve got a Gelt Martini chilling for you!

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.