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Sun. Fog.

It snowed at our house ten days ago, somewhere between a half inch and an inch, and that light dusting still lingers. On days when blue skies prevail, the sun does its best to begin the melting process, but that's a difficult proposition when the thermometer stays below freezing. Then the fog settles in, encasing that light dusting in another layer of frost. Sun. Fog. Sun. Fog. Fog. Fog.

Resolutions, as we all know, are hard to maintain. When the sun comes out I feel empowered to take them on. But when the fog rolls back in, all I want is a warm blanket and a comfy couch. Resolutions be gone. Is this how people my age start thinking longingly about places like Florida and Arizona? Am I just getting soft in my old age?



This schizophrenia, I fear, has trickled down into my drink choices. I have struggled these last few weeks to find a direction for my mixological ways. When blue skies prevail, I think about light summertime drinks. But when the skies are grey and the air heavy with fog, my taste buds seek the weight of comfort food and drink. Such is the difficulty of life in the Northwest during the month of January. As a result, I offer up two very different recipes, and depending on your mood, you will hopefully find a place for both of these drinks during the dark and cold winter months. Unless, of course, you are reading this in Florida or Arizona; your drink choices are probably far more straightforward.

The B-52 seems like the ideal winter drink with the worst possible name. Nevertheless, it's perfect for sipping on a cold foggy night while watching an episode of Downton Abbey. Somewhere along the way I acquired these pretty little cordial glasses that hold about an ounce of liquid.The original recipe calls for 3/4 of an ounce of each liquer, which is enough to make it difficult for me to last through an entire episode. Consider my recipe a "B-52 Light". The trick with the B-52 comes in creating the layers, so you want to make sure you add them in the order they are listed. Think back to chemistry class and the laws of density. The first layer is the easiest. Just pour the Kahlua down the middle. Once in, tilt the glass so you can pour the Baileys in a thin stream down the side of the glass so that it sits on top of the Kahlua. If this proves too difficult, try pouring it slowly over the back of a spoon and down the side of the glass. Then do the same with the Grand Marnier. This is the strongest of the three liquers, so you may opt to go a bit lighter with the final layer. Once made, find yourself a comfy chair and enjoy the many quips of the Dowager Countess of Grantham while you sip your beverage.

B-52 "Light"
1/4 ounce Kahlua
1/4 ounce Bailey's Irish Cream
1/4 ounce Grand Marnier

Should you seek an escape from the winter doldrums, consider the Caipirosca, which is a popular cocktail in Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina -- far more exciting locales than Miami and Sun City. The best thing about the Caipirosca, besides its name and origin, is the fact that it's a drink that requires muddling. Now my sister, purveyor of all fine things, foresaw my need for a muddler and sent me one for Christmas; I have been looking for an excuse to use it ever since. What, you ask, is a muddler? A tiny baseball bat. And a tool used for mashing up fruit and/or herbs in order to release their oils and flavors.

Caipirosca
1/2 lime, quartered
1 ounce brown sugar syrup (made just like a simple syrup but with brown sugar)
1 to 1 1/2 ounces of vodka, depending on how strong you want your drink

Place the lime quarters in the bottom of a shaker, add the syrup, and muddle. You do not need to pulverize the fruit, just muddle enough to release the oils from the skin. Fill a cocktail glass 3/4 full with cracked ice (just place ice cubes in a towel and hit with a meat tenderizer or similar instrument) and then pour the ice and the vodka into the shaker. Shake well and pour the entire contents back into the cocktail glass. This is a very refreshing drink that is sure to transport you away from your winter doldrums and onto a beach in Rio de Janeiro. At least until the fog rolls back in...Saude!

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