“Let’s do shots!”

I may often paint my fellow Noblers as booze-fiending, loyal followers of the experiment but…Well that’s true. However, some of them can write…

Everyone knows him. We ALL went to college with him. We might have even been him…always lurking behind you waiting for a lull in the action when he sweeps in and buys everyone that delicious well shot.  You know, the one that could come in a variety of plastics bottles labeled with the fabled names of pirates, comrades, hombres, or southern game foul.  People either love or hate this guy, because he may be just what the doctored ordered when you’re 19 holding your fake ID stating that your 30.  But when you actually ARE the age of your fake ID, this guy is a volatile addition to any night.

Lets all be honest.  Navigating a complex social world of high school and college takes a certain amount of charisma, which we may not possess at that point in our lives.  You usually find yourself in mixed crowds of greeks, geeks, athletes, or any other mix of groups in college.  Most of us don’t have the gravitas of a talk show host like Conan O’Brien or even a Carson Daly (despite him being a huge douche) in order to entertain, relate, and generally get along with this diverse group of people, hence the necessity for the “Let’s Do a Shot” Guy.  The comfort of the ritual and bonding that takes place is something everyone relates to no matter what your GPA or social standing.  This guy was a hero, and, hell, to bring this kind of magic to the table when all you need is a $10 bill, he was an invaluable part of the team.  But college is over and all we have left are hazy memories of having great times with great people whom we probably don’t even talk to anymore, because a lot of what you had in common was this very ritual of getting wasted: sitting at a bar and doing shots of vodka that would strip the paint off of your dorm walls (If you removed the tapestry first).

I don’t want to downplay the importance of the “Let’s Do a Shot” Guy.  Your friends already convinced you to drink the night before a term paper is due, which you haven’t even read the book yet, let alone put pen to paper, but now you have this guy staring you in the face calling you a pussy for not doing a shot of spiced rum that tastes more like spiced gas.  This is peer pressure at it’s best, and you’re falling for it again, but to “be” a pussy was not an option.  But it did lead to some pretty fun times that you fondly look back on.

Now that you’re an “adult”, you would expect this guy to disappear like the zits on your teenage face as you blossom into a responsible grown-ass man, but that is not always the case.  You still find yourself in awkward situation such as work functions or after-game team drinking where people regress into the comforts of doing shots.  Now the stakes are higher because, first off, a shot of crap whisky is around $8-$10, and you are leading an early morning meeting tomorrow, which you really haven’t prepared for.  This guy really has a hold on you and it turns out your decision-making skills still suck.

Think about the “Let’s Do a Shot” Guy, and you will realize these people are now either salespeople who know how to “talk” to people but really never are able to relate to anyone, or they are social misfits who just don’t know how to have a conversation until they are four shots in.  This guy is not really a friend of yours. 

In conclusion, the “Lets Do a Shot” Guy is meandering aimlessly through his social world and hanging on to this last vestige of destructive behavior as his weapon of likeability, but don’t buy into it.  We are now employed, informed, and empowered to buy good booze and beer and enjoy them like adults.  Friends who drink beer together, stay together.  I’ll have to leave the other species of party-boy, the “Lets Pound a Beer” Guy for another article.

- Dan Sicina

The Costello to Bourbon’s Abbot

I may often paint my fellow Noblers as booze-fiending, loyal followers of the experiment but…Well that’s true. However, some of them can write…

I’m set in my ways.  I’ve been so used to drinking beer as an after-work wind-down.  It’s actually become a bit of a “habit” if you may, but recently something I’ve revisited has changed my outlook on the clichéd liquor drink after work.  In an effort to create a special Valentines Day dinner my lady and myself scoured the annals of Epicurious to find the perfect recipe that might add a delicious segment of our night.  While searching Epicurious I stumbled upon a delicious pasta dish that included a generous dash of sweet vermouth.  I was hoping this Epicurious dish would get my girl drunk enough to make her bi-curious, but that didn’t happen.  What did happen was the vermouth made a delicious cream sauce that went well with shrimp I was forced to de-vein, since she decided to buy fresh shrimp to save $4.  But while I was ripping the shit out of 30 shrimp the vermouth was staring me in the face.  I had a plan.  

The next night I sat down with some Gentleman Jack (because I’m obviously a gentle man) and that sweet sweet vermouth and made a Manhattan that reminded me of a bygone era when men drank whisky on goddamn weeknights…and weekdays without letting anyone tell them otherwise.  I’ve watched enough Mad Men to know that a highball contains enough gravitas to make a man act on bold thoughts he would rather keep to himself in less-manly situations, so it sounded seductive enough to try out.  As I stood at the “bar area” I have been allotted in the kitchen I had to think to myself “Am I being a bitch?”  Why must I add a mixer (although it has alcohol) to a refined bourbon.  Here is my thinking: So the cocktail didn’t exist until Prohibition since all the proletariat could find was bathtub gin and basement distilled whisky to lubricate their nights.  They were forced to mix these toxics liquors with other beverages to create a palatable cocktail that would get them sufficiently drunk.  In this day and age corporations and (still) basement distillers are churning out delicious variations on American classics, specifically bourbons and whiskeys, which proves that we live in much better times, at least for our palates.  But why add vermouth to a drink that is so refined it is given the name “Gentleman”? I’ll tell you why. 

The Manhattan is a drink that can only be defined by the experience (but I will try with words, which will surely fail).  The rush of liquor upon each sip is tantalizing.  It hits you hard and leaves you a bit confused because you realize you have a fairly large glass of this concoction that is currently shocking your mouth that you must finish, because, well, you’re a man.  A second later it finishes with an amazing smoothness that can only be lent to the interplay between the vermouth and bourbon.  It’s velvety but with enough bite to remind you that you did not fuck around when you made that drink.  Vermouth is the Costello to Bourbon’s Abbot.  For the young kids, it’s the Charlie Murphy to the bourbon’s Dave Chapelle.  It just makes it that much sweeter.   Who’s on first?  I’ll fucking tell you.  It’s sweet vermouth.

- Dan Sicina