Dear Santa…

Open letter to Santa Claus:

Dear Santa,

I know you are very busy making dreams come true for westernized children all over the world, stimulating the economy and driving stressed-out parents to drink. That’s cool. I just wanted you to know that there are very few things in my liquor cabinet right now. The cupboard is bare, Santa, and I’m hoping you will come through for me.

Here’s my current inventory, if you haven’t been following me:

  • Bacardi Big Apple Rum—8 oz or so
  • Malibu—maybe 3 oz
  • Cusano Rojo Mezcal—2 oz, worm definitely dead
  • El Senorio Mezcal—4 oz, never opened, worm still hanging out in there
  • Appleton Estate Rum—2 oz

So that’s not very good, right? How can I mix myself a Green Man or a Snowglobe or a Naughty Monkey without some core ingredients? I know you understand because you have a very red nose—the kind that’s bursting with blood vessels from years of imbibing excess. You feel me, right? You get my needs?

Okay, Santa, so here’s what I’d like:

  • Bacardi white rum
  • Bacardi 151
  • Blackberry brandy
  • Strawberry liqueur
  • Banana liqueur
  • Hypnotiq (or more Malibu if you can’t find Hypnotiq)

That will take care of Christmas morning. In the afternoon I’d like (please):

  • Pernod
  • Champagne
  • Melon liqueur
  • Bailey’s
  • Crown Royal
  • Amaretto liqueur

Okay. That covers most of Christmas day. Then there’ll be a big song-and-dance about making dinner and I’ll disappear for a while for a nap. I might skulk to the table if there’s wine (would you bring some chardonnay and pinot gris please?) but won’t really need anything until later, and then…

  • Peppermint schnapps
  • Goldschlager – yeah!!!

I realize this doesn’t really stock a liquor cabinet; a lot of these are specialty items that don’t figure in everyone’s everyday drinking. But I think it’s a travesty that my parents won’t keep these things on hand. Sure, they can be relied upon to buy a bottle of wine or a six-pack of beer once in a while, but they are hopeless about setting up a bar. So maybe you can come through for me, Santa, and bring a few bottles. That is, if you are not too laden down with toys for the kids here (and really, they don’t need anything much, and what you do bring them could be very small and space-efficient, if you get my drift).

Also, if you wanted to bring these things early, for Hanukkah rather than Christmas, that would be great. That way you’d have lots of room in your sleigh and you could get some driving practice before Christmas Eve, so it would be very win-win for us. I celebrate every holiday to excess and believe that liquor has a place at each and every one.

I always believed in you Santa—don’t forget, okay?

 

ASTROLIQUOR for Nov. 25-Dec. 2

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

My advice to you, Aries, is to lie back and take it easy. Try a new combination such as this:

  • 3 oz tequila
  • 3 oz vodka
  • 5 oz peach schnapps
  • 2.5 cups orange juice

Wake up, call in sick, mix this up in a pitcher and sip it all day.

Taurus, you’ve been thinking about improving your mind. But self-improvement takes a lot of time—time best spent on drinking. Thoughts of self-improvement are pernicious. Keep them in check with this:

  • 2 oz brandy
  • 1 tsp pineapple juice
  • 1 tsp lemon juice
  • 0.5 tsp cherry liqueur
  • Dash bitters

There’s a party somewhere this week, Gemini. But your mind is in a thousand places, so you might forget about it—maybe because you start every day with cognac in your coffee. Don’t worry if you miss someone’s birthday; everyone forgives a drunk.

You are suffocating in your house, Cancer! You need to free your mind and body. Get a big 2L bottle of Fresca, dump half of it and replace it with whiskey. Face the weather, cold or hot, and reel around the neighborhood in your underwear with your big bottle.

This is still a good time to blow your paycheck on booze, Leo. You’re feeling happy and at ease, everybody loves you, and you’re making useful contacts. Buy everyone a Monkey F#ck:

  • 0.5 oz rum
  • 0.5 oz banana liqueur
  • 0.5 oz coffee liqueur
  • 1 tsp half-and-half cream

 

A lot of people think they can count on you, Virgo, but that probably won’t be true if you continue combining apple cider and whiskey at work. Try to make friends with a nice, forgiving Cancer, then you can keep on drinking.

Everything’s going like clockwork, Libra, but you still have a bar fight in your future. Read my Smirnoff review for a cautionary tale about house-wreaking. Don’t let it stop you, though! I recommend mixing your Smirnoff with gingerale to take the edge off. Good luck.

You try to make people think that you’re exercising and working hard, Scorpio, but you’re really making other people do your shit for you. Suckers! Lie back with some Southern Comfort and amaretto liqueur; add pineapple juice if that mixture has too much bite. Keep laughing at other people; sometimes they deserve it.

Sagittarius, you will never find a mate if you keep gargling orange juice and Kahlua together. Clean yourself up and find a drink that won’t curdle in your mouth. Maybe some beer. Yeah, some beer.

Keep fending off logic and rationality, Capricorn. It’s not tax season yet, so you don’t need those qualities. I see you lurching around on an applejack brandy and benedictine bender. Yeah! Maybe you’ll meet somebody in your travels.

You think you handle stress well, Aquarius, but you’re calling in sick on Mondays a whole lot. You make an imaginative shit mix, though—I like Captain Morgan for you this week with…hmmm…Coke, Sprite, Orange Crush and peppermint schnapps. Doesn’t that sound awesome? It sure won’t help you with work, though.

Pisces, you’re all worn out, and you want to throw your alarm clock across the room. Do it! Call in sick and get yourself occupied with this little mixture:

  • 1 oz Smirnoff 
  • 2 oz amaretto
  • 2 oz butterscotch liqueur
  • 2.5 oz half-and-half

You may think this is not for breakfast, but one taste will convince you otherwise. Go for it! You wouldn’t have been useful this week anyway.

ANARCHIST AMBER ALE (Cannery Brewing Company)

My Fellow Inebriates,

I love sample packs; they’re like Christmas surprises, so I was thrilled to get my paws on the Cannery Collection last night. With three varieties (Anarchist Amber Ale, Naramata Nut Brown Ale, and India Pale Ale), two of each can, this seemed like the party in a box I’d been missing.

Naturally my parents played the killjoy card and said we would try just one. So we picked at random and soon we were savoring the ANARCHIST AMBER ALE. And get this—the Cannery Brewing Company’s own website advises having the Amber first. Yeah!

Lately we’ve been enjoying the Reidel stemless glasses for beer tasting. Sure, these glasses are meant for red wine, but I recommend trying them with beer; it’s a great way to detect all kinds of subtle aromas. And as happy as I always was in the past to shotgun from a can, I have to credit my parents for encouraging this refinement, as it makes beer all the more enjoyable.

We really don’t drink enough beer in our house. According to the Cannery website, 80% of the liquor purchased in Canada is beer. Canadians love beer, and apparently we like it best in cold places such as the Yukon. Which means we have to catch up. Here. In this house.

If I haven’t mentioned, Liquorstore Bear HQ is in southwest British Columbia, where this snowman could never survive more than a few days. He does a pretty good job keeping a beer cold, but I’d be keeping my eye on him so I could grab that beer as soon as the mercury went up.

ANARCHIST was a tad lighter in color than I expected: light copper and slightly cloudy. The smell was malty with a straightforward hoppiness, although if I concentrated I could also pick up caramel.

The first sips were deeply satisfying. ANARCHIST has a medium-bodied mouthfeel and enough carbonation to be refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of hops (three kinds, says the Cannery Brewing Company), which hit my tastebuds just right. About halfway through my glass, however, I noticed these hoppy tones seemed to be redoubling in my mouth, overshooting and somehow spilling over into a flavor monotone. Of course I didn’t mind this, because I was there to drink beer, and this was beer in all respects—no random olfactory layers, no otiose flavors, no fruitiness—it’s just that there was no sense of the beer evolving in the glass, which I suppose might be an unfair expectation I imposed on it by pouring it into a Reidel wine glass.

My mum liked it a lot at first and then said it was becoming just okay. Then she said she liked it but she wouldn’t go out of her way to buy it again.

This is the sort of limited contribution my mum makes to elevated activities such as beer tasting, and we can dismiss it.

My dad found the hops too predominant and wished the beer had “more going on,” but he didn’t mind it. He forgot to finish his glass, which could have been my windfall had my mum not pointed it out. He then drank the remainder with dinner and said it was much better when accompanied by food.

This is a whole other subject. You see, serious alcoholics like myself don’t bother eating, and so my dad’s enjoyment of ANARCHIST AMBER ALE with stew is pretty irrelevant for my purposes. But if you are still on the solid-foods wagon, then by all means try pairing this delicious beer with your supper.

I definitely RECOMMEND getting hold of one of these excellent sample cases from the Cannery Brewing Company and doing your own tasting.