“Tonic is the luckiest thing on Earth, for when it spends its time as close as possible to gin, people say it is improving the gin. When I spend my time as close as possible to gin, they have the audacity to close the bar on me.”
~The Villainous Ghost of W.C. Fields
Now, I’m no chef, but I’ve always been really good at preparing certain foods. For example, if you ever want boiled water, just give me a pot, a source of drinkable water, and approximately four hours to figure out how to turn on a stove. Likewise, if you like roasted marshmallows, all I need is a couple of long sticks, a roaring fire, and a willingness on your part to accept “a heaping handful of blisteringly hot cinders which might once have been edible” as being reasonably close to a marshmallow treat. And you should see my s’mores recipe, it’s excellent.
(I’ll actually tell you that secret. It’s:
- Find someone else who knows how to make S’mores.
- Hold your breath until they give you some.
Now, for Gin & Tonic, I have always favored a particular recipe. You might not be able to guess what it is. So I’ll tell you:
- Take three liters of gin
- Take 2 liters of tonic
- Realize that you live in the United States and have no idea what a liter is. (This is perfectly fine if YOU know what a ‘liter’ is. By ‘you’, I mean ‘me’, here.)
- Give up and drink whiskey.
I hope this helps! Next week, I shall teach you how to make soup using nothing other than a can of soup, an ordinary kitchen heating appliance, a can opener, and reservations to a restaurant with an extremely liberal “bring your own bottle” policy.
p.s. Technically, my recipe for “Rum and Coke” is very similar to this one, but I didn’t want to include it here. That’s because I continue to be unable to answer the existential question: “Why IS the Rum gone?” –I mean, I know I didn’t steal it, and if I didn’t, who did?