Bailey’s

ASTROLIQUOR for Dec. 14-20—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, no more griping about lack of attention—all eyes are on you this week. You’ll meet tons of new friends, all of whom you’ll wear out within the week. Two romantic prospects will come and go, scared off by your morning vodka-and-watermelon-schnapps habit. From there the week will become considerably more sordid. Enjoy!

Taurus, it’s time to broadcast your worth. Your brain cells are pulling together this week, and you can best anyone in a debate. Throw off last week’s introversion and start a verbal brawl. Take your newfound aggression to work; coworkers will be stunned when you refuse to deal with your piles (whether paperwork or hemorrhoidal). If shyness is an initial barrier, that’s why they make Southern Comfort.

Love is in your stars this week, Gemini, so make sure you strut your thong-wearing self. Take your red-hot charisma to Walmart, meet new people, and trade fashion tips. When you’re riding high (and your pants are riding low), it’s safe to go to work with a headful of Blue Curacao, Midori melon liqueur, Malibu, and Captain Morgan. All will be forgiven!

Cancer, be cautious with romance this week. There are weird people out there, and you are just one of them. There are no “best” days for hitting on strangers, so put your focus on holiday planning or decorating, or just mix up a big jug of vodka, bourbon, and peach schnapps that you can pound at home.

Leo, the stars call for sexual turbulence (interpret that as you will) but not necessarily a solid romance. One hook-up in particular will leave you tingling for an unexpectedly long time—perhaps until mid-January. Is it love? Or does that tingle come courtesy of combining rum with Red Bull? Nope. That tingle will need antibiotics.

Although as a Virgo you’re known for acting very deliberately, this week you’ll be seized by bizarre compulsions. Lost for an explanation of your own behavior, you thrash between nature and nurture. Did your upbringing mess you up? Or is your brain misfiring? Or is a breakfast of Kahlua, creme de bananes, and Bailey’s to blame? Phone your parents and ask if you’re adopted.

Libra, you’ll slough off old habits this week and embrace new ways of thinking. This will affect your personal and professional activities and launch you into new opportunities. You’d be surprised how impressed your boss will be when you quit mixing Captain Morgan and Dr. Pepper at work. It’s hard to say how long this positive upswing will last, so don’t spend too much money. You’re on your boss’s radar now, and if you lapse, you might end up putting your stuff in a cardboard box.

Is your interest in other people genuine, Scorpio? Admit it! You are bored with people! You want to hole up at home and experiment with gin. Taking a break from socializing will replenish your energy and eventually renew your appetite for the social scene. Have you ever put an egg, two limes, some sugar, and a big honking bottle of gin in the blender? This would be a worthy experiment. You could tell stories about it next week when you start enjoying human company again.

Sagittarius, the romance/sex dichotomy presents itself, and you decide to jettison the former. (OMG, who saw that coming?) Good week for it too—you exude sensuality, but only for one week. Next week you will be nauseating! Don’t feel sad; it’s not innate—it’s what comes of slamming drink after drink of vodka, Midori, and Chambord, ralfing it all over the floor, and lying in it.

Professionalism takes a backseat, Capricorn, as you ramp up for holiday mode. Cut corners at work, fob projects off on colleagues, or just work on the Penske file. You’ll find everyone else is ready to be festive too. Go to the pub on the weekend and buy a round of gin cocktails. Charge it to your boss.

Aquarius, you have an emotional week on tap. One second you’ll be crying, the next laughing, the next freaking out and starting a bar fight. Settle down and write some poetry or arrange some flowers. You need to occupy yourself so you don’t end up with a black eye. Hollow out a pineapple and fill it with different kinds of schnapps.

Pisces, sober up or you’ll forget to play Secret Santa. Somebody will buy you a bottle of Mastika (how specific is that?…the stars are pretty much f#cking themselves on this prediction), and there you’ll be, looking like a douchebag, with nothing for your giftee. Even if you’re feeling cheap, a small item will do. What about some homemade moonshine? Or some flowers swiped from a neighbor’s yard?

Balls!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Our Canadian Cream is almost ready for consumption. Not that we haven’t had a small sip already, but at the end of this week it should be as good as it’s going to get—i.e., ready to chug. I have a few nagging worries, though.

Canadian Cream Label copyWhen we made the liqueur, we bought a one-litre carton of whipping cream. Two and a half cups went into the mix, my mum put half a cup or so in some solid-food risotto-like thing, and the rest sat in the fridge with nothing to do. Recycling day came along and, since the unused cream was two days away from expiry, we gave it a sniff. OMG! Holy shit, people! That cream smelled rank. Holy crap, two days early the stuff was horrid. Mum poured it down the drain and rinsed the carton…but it was hard not to look at our giant Canadian Cream jug and think…the same cream’s in there! OMG!

That’s really the reason we got into it early—to make sure it wasn’t off. You wouldn’t want to take a big slug of sour milk products and end up barfing. But it smelled fine. It tasted fine.

Alcohol keeps food from going off.

So what is this amazing preservative power of alcohol all about? How does it work?

Simply put, alcohol is poisonous. At concentrations above 15 percent, bacteria and fungi can’t survive. That having been said, cream-liqueur experts advise against keeping homemade concoctions more than a few weeks, and only then in the fridge. Roger that—we’d better finish this shit now. Review…on the way 😉

To this sage advice, my mum said, “Oh. I guess we’d better not make another batch then. It’ll be enough to get through this lot.”

This is exactly the opposite of what I meant. Of course we should make another batch. Right now.

But instead she said we were going to make whisky balls.

rum balls

I was immediately suspicious. Another recipe requiring us to cook with booze? OMG! The angels’ share is supposed to be miniscule—the tiny portion that evaporates naturally, not liberal gases spewing into the air from a hot saucepan. Damn it, why do the angels get any of our booze? Aren’t they supposed to be perfect creatures? Not addicts jonesing in distillery cask rooms.

“Relax,” said my mother. “Behave yourself.”

Apparently you don’t cook whisky balls.

They’re just like rum balls, which you don’t cook either—only they’re made by people who are too ungenerous to buy rum for loveable bears who have repeatedly requested it. Whisky balls are a not-horrible-sounding variation on rum balls. Let’s do this shit.

Here’s what we need:
  • 3 ¼ cups vanilla wafer crumbs
  • ¾ cup icing sugar
  • ¼ cup cocoa
  • 1 ½ cup walnuts 
  • 3 tbsp light corn syrup
  • ½ cup whisky

Life is a compromise at LBHQ, so we’re using graham crumbs. We have to do this without Miss V seeing, or she will demand a bowlful of them (not that she would deign to eat a graham cracker).

Next two ingredients: check.

Walnuts…the kids will bitch a very great deal if walnuts go into this recipe. But perhaps they shouldn’t be the arbiters of our whisky-ball ingredients.

Corn syrup is one of those things that doesn’t age, and ours is probably older than I am. We’re going to use it anyway.

As for throwing half a cup of Canadian whisky into this recipe…what the hell. The plastic Wiser’s jug is enormous and its somewhat atonal siren song has been relentless lately—better do something with it other than just pound it. Sigh.

rum ball mixingOkay, so you really just mix all this stuff up and shape it into balls. (OMG, I’m not even allowed to help with that—what’s the big deal, a little fur?) Then you sequester your balls away for a few days in an airtight container so the flavor can mellow. Five days is about ideal. But it’s hard to be away from your balls for five days. You might find yourself opening the container and sniffing your balls every so often, wondering if they’re ripe.

Whisky or whiskey balls?

If your balls are Scottish, Canadian, or Japanese, they’re whisky balls.

If your balls are American or Irish, they’re whiskey balls. As a rule of thumb, if your country has an “e” in the spelling, so does your whisk(e)y and any balls made therefrom.

ASTROLIQUOR for November 16-22—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you’ll have to toil this week to overcome your workplace image as a gin-soaked barbarian. Try on some business-speak. If coworkers don’t laugh, go with it. The less comprehensible you are, the more success you’ll enjoy. Naturally, alcohol will help with this. Change up your flask with some peach brandy. BTW, don’t go into the supply closet with Virgos or Libras.

Taurus, the stars advise you to air your opinions openly. Nobody can stand a douchebag who mentions after the fact that they knew something all along but were too polite to say so. Don’t be a douche! You have far too much Pisco sloshing around your head to think about diplomacy or tact. Friends, family, and colleagues will thank you for your honesty.

Someone is attempting to control you, Gemini. Wish them luck; you are far too elusive to be trapped in someone else’s plans. Meanwhile your workplace has turned into a circus. With the holidays mere weeks away you can’t even feign a work ethic, so you might as well pack the Absolut Kurant in your briefcase.

Cancer, your insight is growing about work, relationships, and finance. You’re realizing what you excel at, and what you suck at. You’re seeing the interplay of various players in all spheres of life—and getting ready to play them off each other. Sounds devious. You’ll need large quantities of tequila.

Leo, you may feel busy, but you’re actually doing a lot of dog-f#cking. Be careful; you are in an important creative life phase, and you’ll never recoup the time you waste. Yes, the stars are saying you should act like a grown-up. For this and many other reasons, you should probably not mix this up:

  • 2 cups red wine
  • 2 cups Coke
  • 2 cups orange juice
  • Multiple shots of peach schnapps

Romantic feelings threaten to get the better of you, Virgo, as the object does not share them. Shift your focus elsewhere, stalker! And don’t even think about venting your pent-up frustration on a third party. Good grief, that’s what Irish whisky is for: burying nuisance emotions. Add some interest with a splash of Irish Mist and some porn.

Libra, you’ll experience a creative spurt along with some general horniness. Together these will distract you from everyday life, turning your workplace productivity into a widely shared joke while sending you off on all kinds of personal ass-seeking tangents. All very tiring, Libra, so you’ll need some brisk, citrus refreshment:

  • 5 oz citrus liqueur
  • Juice of three lemons
  • 1 oz triple sec
  • 1 oz raspberry liqueur

You should probably enjoy this after work, but since you’re struggling to get anything done there, it’s your call.

You have a boner for mysteries, Scorpio, as well as speculations about higher planes and the universe’s secrets. This is an excellent week for plunging into the paranormal. If you wanted to investigate haunted bears, for instance, I could certainly send you one. When the occult gets boring, it’s time to scope out potential partners for some quick intimacy. (Saturday looks best.) The stars say (bitchily) not to be picky, but they are just idiotic balls of exploding gas. Be very picky. You deserve the best. Start every morning with one of these:

  • 1 oz Irish (or Canadian) cream
  • 1 oz Malibu
  • 1 oz whisky

Sagittarius, the small things are making you happy this week: glinting sunlight, your morning java, the sound of birdsong. This is creeping some of your friends out. They are used to the more manic you—the one whose mood hinges on the level of bourbon in your bloodstream. Ignore these detractors for the time being. When you get bored with nature you can always go back to them.

The stars promise a power week, Capricorn. How awesome! Push yourself to the limits mentally and physically. Rev up your stress levels by leaving late for all engagements. Stay up late every night, then go apeshit at the bar on Saturday. I see you reeling around with some cheap Canadian whisky. Yeah!

Aquarius, pay lots of attention to a sick friend this week. Vodka and Red Bull never eventuate in good health, and chances are the combo was your idea. Assuage your guilt, then attend to your workplace situation. You are being watched—surveilled, really— by coworkers with bad intentions. Oh, wait…that’s just paranoia from the vodka and Red Bull. Your colleagues aren’t out to get you; they just think you’re lazy.

Pisces, your mind continues to wander. Brilliant inventions and screenplay ideas occur to you all day long. This makes you very entertaining to any colleagues who don’t actually rely on your workflow. Still, you might want keep something odorless like vodka in your flask. Watch out for saboteurs, especially flirtatious ones.