On Cassis (or, More Red)

The Other Day I bought a bottle of Graham Beck Gamekeeper's Reserve 2004. Don't buy it, it sucks. Not off, not corked, just not good. So I popped it in the fridge to take the edge off. Then I put a splash of Cassis in one of my Chicago glasses, followed by a slice of lime (sleighce of leime)...then the red wine. I thought it needed an ice cube so one followed.

Jolly good! A Kir Rouge...

Since the riff-raff (both dearly beloved) have been making Comments about the perceived size of my drinks, a scale is provided. This one is...tall, at any rate. Tonight's drink, and the reason I wax lyrical: a Kir Royale. A very nice (cheap as they go) champagne, new to me: Leclerc Briant, $23 at my Local, and the splash of Cassis. I really love Cassis. I do not believe in fruit drinks. Ugh. I'm old school. Except for that cocktail with cognac and summer fruits and champagne; and the fresh-squeezed watermelon juice and frigid Tequila....and summer peaches pureed with prosecco...hm. Oh well. Cassis is a close friend and on the odd occasions when the world is too much with me, finds its way into good but not spectacular champagne, to make a party.

Now why don't I feel this way about dropping acid**??? It's just not...pretty.

A fine mousse: the top.

A fine mousse's bottom.

Newspaperman to Canadian fur trapper recently emerged from the woods: Sir, Sir! are you a mousse top or a mousse bottom?

Sorry. It's the bubbles.

**Oh ye of shaken faith: I live vicariously through Bob in all matters drug-related...if it sounds as though I speak from experience, 'tis because I experience Bob's post-event analyses of his partydrug-addled weekends...all related, by him, through a Cheshire cat grin...