The Search for the Signature Drink

I walked into Dave's office on Monday morning and plopped down on one of the guest chairs. "I did absolutely nothing all weekend," I told him. "I wrote three crappy paragraphs, and that's it. I barely even went outside to enjoy the nice weather."

"Do you know what you need?" He responds. "You need a signature drink."

"A signature drink?"

"It doesn't have to be as cliched as Pernod or Campari, but maybe a sherry or brandy. You drink a glass before you start writing, and that will set the mood. That will be your drink when you write."

The thought of having to rely on alcohol to get the creative juices flowing sounded a little sad, but I was intrigued. I'm a simple drinker: only red wine and beer, and occasionally a fruity martini or margarita. I was always interested in learning more about wines, but didn't know a thing about brandies or sherries or cognacs.

Dave, my friend and co-worker and fellow writer, proceeded to tell me about the time he was meeting his friend and published author Jim Kokoris for a drink, and arrived to find him imbibing something pink and green. "I don't remember exactly what was in it," he laughed, "but it included absinthe and grenadine."

It was supposed to be a joke, Dave explained after seeing the blank look on my face, because Jim's a writer, and writers drink absinthe and other avant-garde beverages.

Do they? I had know clue. "I like limoncello," I said. "And I once tried drambuie and really enjoyed it."

"So maybe you need a warm weather drink and a cold weather drink."

The next morning, I walked into my office and found a thick book called The Wine Bible by Karen MacNeil on my desk with various post-it notes peeking out the top. As I flipped through the large book, I noticed unfamiliar words like Calvados and Armagnac. Dave gave me a quick 101 on aperitifs and after dinner drink options, including a safe price range for brandy when ordering one in a restaurant.

So the next time I go out for dinner, I'll plan on venturing into this unknown territory. I can see myself now, sitting at a table with a few friends, or maybe my parents the next time I have dinner with them at Nite 'N Gale. And when the waitress comes by and asks if we're interested in dessert, I'll turn up my nose and ask, "What kind of brandies do you have?" I can picture the look on my dad's face.