Two sazeracs were in order when we got home from work. We'd made them the day before as well. The sazerac redux was motivated by the ugly reality that Kevin's paycheck never materialized last month. It's his department's fault, and the payroll department will not fix it until August 31st. Don't worry - we have emergency savings, we will not go without food or a roof over our heads. But this type of situation boils the blood, just like the North Carolina summer sun. We need something substantial and good to focus on. The sazerac, with a nice sturdy rye base all brightened up with Pernod and bitters, definitely fits the bill.
We always consult Mr. Boston when we are hankering for a cocktail. Rather than reprint their recipe here (since I wouldn't alter it) I found one on Chow that will work perfectly: http://www.chow.com/recipes/10330-sazerac. If you are at all inclined to like amber liquors, you should give the sazerac a try. All you need is rye (or whiskey), bitters (Mr. Boston calls for Peychaud's), Pernod (or other absinthe substitute), fresh lemon twists, sugar cubes (or 1/2 tsp. simple syrup per drink) and ice for chilling the glasses.
I like to list the ingredients here because it reminds me of my new passion: mise en place. It's just getting your workstation stocked and ready. But that is the part I have always rushed through, which means I often work with too little/poorly organized counter space or without some ingredients in reach (or even in the house). Now that I am finally recovered from back pain and can focus, I seem to have lost my patience for disorganization in the kitchen. It's like a switch has been flipped, and at age 33 I am all of a sudden using my ramekins as prep bowls and keeping my countertop clean and clear.
I find this pretty hilarious, since after 33 years of just jumping right into most endeavors, I have virtually no organizational skills in my repertoire. You may find this hard to believe, especially if you can picture the calm and collectedness I always attempt to project. Believe it. I have never kept a datebook/calendar longer than a month, even in grad school. My filing system is a large bin, overflowing. When we moved out of SF and I finally got rid of some old records, I had to pay $30 to shred the massive lot. If for some reason you are not convinced, you should visit me at work. I am one of those people who holds fast to the belief that if you can't see it, you will forget about it and it won't get done. So every tiny pending task sits out on my desk, haphazardly and at weird angles, collecting coffee stains and creases from things I set on top of them.
Sometimes I explain my ability to function despite the chaos I tend to encourage around myself as a testament to how well my mind is organized. Yay for my mind. But I am relieved to have finally reached a limit to my disorganization tolerance, even if it is only happening in the kitchen right now. We all have to start somewhere. And with a such a pretty mise en place for a sazerac, who could resist making one more? Take two sazeracs and call me when my husband gets paid.
Well, I'm in my mid-thirties and live in North Carolina with my husband. The photo is courtesy of the lovely and talented Jessie Gladin-Kramer. I have old lady taste and a sideboard full of mismatched thrift store trivets, cake stands and tea accouterments. My deep and abiding fears involve earthquakes, projectiles, scorpions, snakes, deep water (including underwater scenes) and riding a bicycle. The oldest of three sisters, I am somehow always aware of how similar and different we are from each other, and that no one can really know me without knowing them.