I love cocktails. I adore a dirty martini with extra olives served in a glass so cold I leave fingerprints on its frosted surface. I deeply appreciate an old fashioned with peach bitters (orange bitters are so passe), a touch of maple syrup and an Amarena cherry. If the restaurant serves it from a smoke-filled bottle, so much the better. I’m all for theatrical flair when it comes to tipple. And let me just say, if I’m going to pay $15 for a cocktail, it had jolly well better come with some flair.
Any reasonable person would point out that I could buy a whole bottle of fairly drinkable bourbon for the price of a single restaurant cocktail and make my own old fashioneds at home. Well, I do! When we have a dinner party, I relish creating alcoholic concoctions for guests. I get experimental, building adult libations from herb-infused spirits, homemade simple syrups and food-grade essential oils. (Note to novice mixers: a little bit of peppermint oil goes a long way. One guest dubbed her minty cocktail “The Ter-mint-ator” and declared it was like getting a year’s worth of toothpaste in one sip. Eh, not my best work.)
But the sorrowful fact is, I don’t often imbibe with my guests. My propensity for migraines has overtaken my ability to metabolize alcohol. Even so much as half a beer is enough to trigger a three-day headache that prescription medication can ease but not eradicate. It severely cramps my sophisticated, lady-about-town style.
Then I discovered the mocktail. It’s the obvious choice for someone who declines to have alcohol and many restaurants put them right on the cocktail list. However, I resisted on the grounds that mixed drinks seem terminally unexciting without the all-important booze element. When my husband took me out to celebrate my birthday earlier this year, I finally relented. I asked for a mocktail and the server returned with a highball glass containing a splendid mixture of grapefruit juice and lavender syrup with some other wonderfully mysterious ingredients, garnished with a blood orange twist and a fresh lavender sprig. I was captivated.