Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

My old friend is a Russian.  When I turned twenty-one and ordered my first drink, I asked for something sweet.  I got a White Russian.  Not willing to venture too far from home, I ordered a White Russian for years, sometimes a Black.  I knew what to expect when I would ask for a Russian. I later learned to ask for vodka and orange juice when I felt the Russian was too heavy.  Turning even braver, I would ask for cranberry and vodka. Later, I got brave and ordered Long Island Iced Tea because I saw it in a movie.   And I have now learned that there isn't even a hint of tea in it.  Who knew?

I was not one to keep a bar at home because the company I usually kept meant that nothing, no matter what type of liquor it was, would be there when I returned home from work.  Fortunately, my kids did not inherit their father's taste for cognac or cheap beer (he mourned the passing of Rainier beer and Bohemian-but the cases were a nice size box for me to use for storage and I had lots), or my father's taste for gallon Gallo, or his father's for beer---any beer; many of the people that hung around or passed through my house made light work of anything that alcohol on the label.  Some people spoil it for others.

So, I am now enjoying a solitary existence and I am slowing building a small inventory for my bar.  Keeping some alcohol around, once a week I make something out of the bartender's book.  My sister is amused by this and sends me recipes and videos of her hero Rachael Maddox showing off her expertise with filling the martini glass on her political commentary show.


To make a White Russian, you need vodka, coffee liqueur (Kahlua), and a little bit of cream.  Take an old-fashioned glass, fill it up with ice, pour about two ounces of vodka directly in the glass, one ounce of your Kahlua right on top of that, and now float the cream on top. That's how you make a White Russian. You can also make a Black Russian the exact same way, just don't use any cream.

The Russian in my 1969 book is made with 1 jigger of vodka, 1 jigger of dry gin, 1 jigger of creme de cacao, stirred well together with ice, strained into a glass.  And I do have the correct ingredients in my little, growing bar for a Russian. 

Hello old friend.

(Kahlua is on the list for next month. And my sister wants me to try a Communist, guess it is not quite the same as a Russian.)