Monday, February 13, 2017

Saturday Night

You need just the right glass and just the right garnish for a Manhattan.


Typically a Saturday night at my empty nest includes dinner with the hub and maybe a movie.  Sure we share a glass of wine or two (or three),  but that's about it for social activity.   But let me fill you in on what lead up to the past Saturday night which was quite out of the ordinary for us.

On New Year's Day my sister was pondering the fact that I had a Book Club and why couldn't we start a cocktail club.   We'd feature a special cocktail of the week and enjoy one, just one, drink-e-poo and perhaps a bite or two.

Oh, yeah, we all thought that was a great idea as we were headed home from a New Year's Day open house at my daughter's.  Time passes.  We mentioned it once or twice and nothing materialized until my sister bought a bottle of Jameson's Irish Whiskey.  She'd been watching Blue Bloods and pictured herself enjoying two fingers of whiskey with Frank and Erin, maybe Danny.

Manhattan popped into my mind right away.  Sometimes I miss the city.  I have the perfect glasses for a drink.  Small sized martini glasses from another era that I got at a Thrift store.   I'm all about the glass - I can only drink wine from a glass with a stem.  Well, I have drunk it in a red Solo Cup, but only under extreme circumstances and with a lot less enjoyment than when I'm quaffing from an elegant vessel.

So our first meeting of the Cocktail Club was scheduled.  I checked my Bartender's Bible and found that the Manhattan has an interesting history.   The drink was developed for Lady Jenny Churchill, (Brooklyn born mother of Winston) and served at The Manhattan Club at a banquet she gave honoring a lawyer, Samuel J. Tilden.  He happened to prosecute the Tweed Ring, a group of politicians who stole millions from NYC.  Imagine that, unsavory politicians.

I also had to procure bitters and sweet vermouth (with a marachino cherry for garnish) to make the drink.  Other versions use dry vermouth (a dry Manhattan) or both dry and sweet (Perfect Manhattan), but I wanted to start off as a purist for the first time.

Tim built us a fire and we enjoyed our Manhattan, warm and toasty from the heat and the whiskey.

Yadda, yadda, yadda - my son, daughter-in-law and Cobee came up to our house to get some help cutting new closet doors down to size for the baby's room, Meredith and Nick stopped by as well.

I always welcome a visit from my favorite canine and his parents.

It's always divine to have the whole family together.

My sister left early to go home to enjoy some Irish Stew (I think she had her own theme going on).

A divine Saturday night that included a pizza party after the Cocktail Club all the while keeping the fire stoked.

We found some cocktails named for family members.  There's the Old Groaner and the Old Groaner's Wife,(!), Old Nick and Poor Tim.  I'll let you know what we decide on next, whatever it is will be divine.




Thursday, February 9, 2017

I'm posting this week's six sentence story from my old blog, hoping I can remember how to navigate through Blogger.  I've already been unable to locate the first drafts I created to post this week, so bear with me please.  The cue this week is bread, and you can link up or find more incredible stories by visiting the link at Uncharted.

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Once upon a time there was a woman, who with the help of her very creative friend, began a blog for fun.

She shared family life and experiences and had a good time dishing recipes and snarky comments with a few of her family and friends who liked to see themselves in print.

Then she met up with a much more serious blogger and got some lofty ideas about making money doing this fun hobby she had, so she invested in a paid domain and hosting through a very reputable company.  

During the process she met up with some virtual friends and continued to link up and enjoy writing for fun and connecting with these people who became very important to her. 

The hopes of making money and becoming widely read and famous evaporated without a wisp of regret or rue.

She wants to keep blogging and connecting with her awesome friends both virtually and in real life, but she doesn't have the bread to keep paying the hosting, so she's back to free blogging from her first on-line endeavor.
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Now comes the techie challenge of finding the meme for Six Sentence stories.

Ah,  it was on my hard drive.