I’ve never been a lush. Honestly. Ask my college friends. I was–and still am– a stick in the mud when it comes to drinking, and as far as drugs are concerned, I’ve never tried any of them (nope, not even pot).
But I really miss cocktails. And now that it’s getting warmer, I miss vinho verde.
I’ve made it halfway through my pregnancy thinking about alcohol rarely, but last night we were at a film fest opening where comp Cava was being served and a glass was thrust into my hand by a man who had clearly enjoyed a few already and was oblivious as to the state of my belly. I held my cup politely as he gulped away and tossed it in the trashcan as soon as he returned to the bar for the next round. As the cup dropped from my hand I felt a touch of sadness– perfectly beautiful, sweet, bubbly Cava running in rivulets down the black plastic garbage bag.
And today we stopped at a wine shop. While Francisco browsed the bottles, I headed to the liqueurs. I’m fascinated by craft spirits and am always looking for surprise ingredients. Francisco found me pining in front of the bottles of Rothman and Winter–I’ve had their violette before (far more impressive in my mind than on my palate), but discovered two new flavors today. They’re probably not new, but I’d never seen them, and I got lost in a brief but intense fantasy about how I’d mix them up in a cocktail that would be perfect for this spring evening.
It was short-lived. Four and a half more months, more or less, until I can experiment with them again.