The Richmond Gimlet or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Gin

When I was 18 I was a court jester for Halloween, complete with painted symbols on my face and an agenda of mischievous frivolity. That night at a friend's house I went through 4 gin tonics in about an hour ... maybe an hour and a half. At the 5th one I staggered to the bathroom where I spent most of the night, struggling home at 3 am. My father didn't ground me or impose any kind of teenage restriction. As I was flat on the couch trying not to move I was the subject for a lesson to the little brother on the horrors of alcohol drinking: "So why is she sick like that?" "Because, son ..." It was a lesson, by the way, that the brother clearly didn't learn anything from, except that he eventually found a way to get around the hangover. It also led to this great line from dad: "I'm not going to punish you, because what you're going through now is punishment enough." Gee, thanks dad urnmwaahhhhhhhhaup oh Godddddddddd.

For years I couldn't go near gin. The smell of it made me physically ill. Even thinking about gin made me physically ill and I would chew Razzles to get the memory-taste of it out of my mouth. (Later I would drink bottles of white Zinfindel to cover the taste ... I was so very young ...)

Yesterday I had a Richmond Gimlet. I have been toying with the idea of gin for the last few years, but yesterday was my first true, full-length test and it couldn't have gone better. I had two and developed a nice buzz, completing the evening with a first and last bookend of Sessions beer. This morning I had no hangover ... ... ... although the tummy is not happy and not excited about the digestion process, but I blame that on ... erm ... well it could be anything. Couldn't be the gin. Gin is good.

From www.extratasty.com

2 parts Gin

1.5 parts Lime juice 1 part Simple syrup

Shake gin, lime juice and simple syrup with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.