Story by Emmjay
How many times do we read the exhortation “Store in a cool, dry place” ? Not a hot dry place. Not a cool wet place. Not a hot wet place. Not in an effing freezing (and therefore dry) place either.
So this rules out most places Earthlings seem to inhabit, and it must pose problems for people who transport stuff around that should rest always in cool dry places.
Not to mention sunlight. Avoid storing things in direct sunlight (except Eucalypts and living cacti). Filtered light could be ok for other green plants.
And be sure not to get too much sun for yourself either, lest you get skin cancers.
Neither get too little sunlight, lest you get too much rickets from a lack of Vitamin D.
Just to be safe, I staunchly refuse to drink beer from bottles that aren’t green or brown. This is supported by direct experience of the tastelessness of so-called “ice beers” that brag about being filtered through ice. Wait a minute, isn’t ice a solid ? How’s that going to work ?
The habitable spaces seem to be closing in. Where is this cool dry space with just right environment for everything ? Are the rents horrendous so that only Gina could afford to live there ? Silly me, Gina probably makes her own environment, but that probably cannot be called a microclimate – more a regional weather pattern.
What if the air-conditioning fails ? Will that be curtains ? Or shade cloth ?
It’s time to accept that the old understanding of “cool and dry” needs a rethink, Now there is a form of usage I find particularly useful.
Sticking with my previous allusion to the imbibement of alcoholic beverages, I can truthfully say that a guaranteed cool and delightful place can be found in the skilful amalgamation of a dry gin and a dry vermouth. Witness the creation of a dry martini.
There is some history to this wonderful beverage. But it’s dull and boring and widely disputed. Suffices to say that it leaps from the imagination of literary giants like Hemingway and lesser luminaries like Fleming, for whose offspring the imperative was that it be shaken and not stirred.
Frank Moorehouse wrote a book called, simply, “Martini”. This is not to suggest you read it, unless you are undisturbed by the juxtaposition of Frank losing his anal virginity with the consumption of alcohol. At that point in the book something more interesting – and pleasant – like cleaning the grease trap came up, so I left off and then forgot which bin place I’d put the book. Some careless person must have picked it up. But I digress…
To stir a martini would be stupid, so Bond’s instruction to tuxedoed barmen must surely have just been an opportunity for Sean Connery to say “sshhhaken” so a million impersonators would have a gag for all time.
Martinis must be cool all right. Chilled glass in the traditional conical shape like a smaller version of Madonna’s brassiere. The gin and vermouth should be poured over a generous number of ice cubes in a stainless steel container. And shaken gently to just chill the liquor and avoid getting too much ice melted into it. Which is to say, a detectable dilution. Strain carefully.
FM prefers a twist of lemon. I prefer three large or four small olives.
Gin ? An affordable drop ? Tanqueray or Gordon’s will do at a pinch. Many folk enjoy a Bombay Sapphire gin; I find it a bit too floral.
The big night out or guaranteed to get lucky drop is Tanqueray Ten and Nouilly Prat dry vermouth mixed 5:1 for a short pair of drinks. This is the “brick in a velvet glove” approach and the optometrist rule applies, namely martinis are like eyes – one gives you some insight, two gives you depth of field, but three – you see too much. Which is lucky because sharing a pair of Tanqueray Ten martinis in a superior bar – one of the few places that sell T Ten, won’t leave much change out of a fifty.
But it’s a drink to be savoured and a leisurely session is a perfect accompaniment to some cool jazz or even some up tempo blues.
The Pig’s Arms encourages responsible drinking and complete abstinence, complete absinthe, hic, complicated absence, competitive absolut, hic, ah, whatever ….
