Imbibist

If I’m an amateur – and I am – then this guy is in the pee wee leagues.
 

“I’m what you call a mixologist.” This is where the chuckle and smirk transformed into untamed, belly-aching laughter. Apparently Sean Combs – also known as Puff Daddy, Puffy, P. Diddy, Diddy, whatever – is not just an accomplished pop music producer, but he also whoops some serious ass behind the bar. Yes, this self-absorbed icon, who has banked tens – perhaps hundreds – of millions of dollars by recycling and repackaging 80s music for the masses, was gracious enough to enlighten the epicures at People magazine last month with his signature holiday cocktail. The potion, creatively titled Diddy’s Holiday Cocktail, is a daring, avant garde blend of Ocean Spray fruit juices and Ciroc vodka. How progressive!
 

Douche Diddy

For those of you lacking the palatal fortitude necessary to tackle such a complex, seasonal drink, Combs shares the guarded recipe to his signature cocktail, which can be enjoyed year round. The cleverly named Diddy is an exotic fusion of lemonade and – get this – Ciroc vodka. Feeling frisky? Follow the Puffster’s advice and add a little cranberry juice to the mix. Sensual and intrepid!
 

I’m late to the table on this one, but what the hell, it needs to be shared. I can hardly wait for the holidays , when it’ll be all about tha Diddy, pumpkin spiced bourbon be damned. The original story resides here, but I found it on Neyah White’s fantastic and informative blog.

November and December are such abusive months, with the chocolates and booze and Christmas Ducks and booze and stuffing and booze and bread puddings and booze and wine and booze and beer. Not to mention the potlucks and champagne. Really. Like many others – and I’m glad I’m not alone on this one – I treat January as a month of repentance, where a restrictive diet is implemented with the hope of once again fitting comfortably into my own clothing. Part of this restrictive diet is abstinence from drinking alcohol, which for the most part is just fine. Heck, after the extended New Years weekend, I didn’t want to smell alcohol for a week. But here it is, January 18, and I’m ready for a drink. But the scale and my still-tight-fitting-pants say that I’m not. What to do, what to do…
 

Well, unlike the rest of you schleps, I’m sticking to my guns. I’m gonna fit back into my own clothes, damnit. And that’s where the mocktail comes in. I’m sure this drink has a proper name, but I don’t really care to find out.
 

The Simple Mocktail
Club Soda
Bitters (Angostura, Peychaud’s, Orange, Whatever…)
 

Fill a rocks glass with ice. Add a few shakes of bitters. Top off with club soda. Weep in repentance.

These innocuous, near-zero-calorie potions are being consumed at a feverish rate here at headquarters. Pathetic, yes, but necessary. Oh so necessary. Thank heavens the Superbowl is in February.

Silicon Valley is known worldwide for a number of subjects: semiconductors, venture capital, the dot-com boom and subsequent crash, to name a handful. Culinary Excellence, unfortunately, is not one of them. Indeed, there is a dearth of good eating establishments in the South Bay Area, as banal strip malls and national chains dominate both the landscape and the local palate. Naturally, it follow that there are few good drinking establishments. Sure, it’s not hard to find a good selection of scotch at an upscale eatery, but try ordering a Sazerac at these places and you will be met with a look of wonder and confusion.
 

Suze Liqueur. Courtesy of Guillaume Brialon via Flickr.

You could imagine my surprise when I spotted a bottle of Suze through the window of a local pseudo-French restaurant (I say “pseudo-French” since their French cuisine simply isn’t that good. Or French). We immediately seated ourselves at the bar and inquired about the bottle. To our non-surprise, the bartender had been working there for three years and had only poured it for one customer, who ordered it as a shot. Despite the bartender’s lack of knowledge of classic cocktails, he was well aware of the subject and was quite receptive to our stories and questions. I told him of our experience with Chris Hannah at French 75 in New Orleans, and how he made a Last Word with Suze replacing the Maraschino. He agreed that this sounded like a fine cocktail and proceeded to make us a round. Yes, here we were, reliving one of the more sublime cocktail moments of our latest New Orleans trip, amongst the vodka-and-sugar swilling wannabe-sophisticates of Silicon Valley. So bizarre, yet so satisfying. Upon finishing, the bartender agreed to hide the bottle for us. A nice gesture, in an establishment that, previous to this experience, I completely despised.
 

Yes, pleasant surprises always come in the most unlikely settings. What is the name of this pseudo-French restaurant that houses such a rare bottle of liqueur, you ask? Sorry, that is for me to know and for you to find on your own. Happy hunting.