Wickedness afoot

OK, all. It's time to get off your complacent asses and DO something.

President Bush is attempting to eliminate the Perkins Loan in this year's budget. As most students on financial aid depend heavily on this loan, I'd suggest writing your Congressweasels and telling them that if a) they don't do something to protect the Perkins Loan and b) tell Bush to stuff it up his nose, you'll not vote for them.

Perhaps we can get an exciting protest at the local Senator's offices.

That Potent Potable...

The Martini

I can't think of a drink that conveys such a sense of sophistication and elegance. The sleek Y shape of the glass itself - so easily held in a devil may care manner. The Martini brings to mind characters such as Ian Fleming's James Bond and Truman Capote's Holly Golightly. Dorothy Parker and others drank them at fashionable parties in New York City. Winston Churchill (more about his Martinis later) enjoyed a stiff one, too.

Much of the history of the Martini is lost in legend. There are apocryphal stories of various miners in Gold Rush California making some noxious drink that morphed over time into the Martini. Back then it was called the Martinez after a town in California. Others claim it was named after Martini and Rossi vermouth. Still others claim that members of the British Army in the Boxer Rebellion named it after the Martini and Henry rifle - both were powerful and had a kick. The old recipes for the Martinez are ghastly numbers - using sweet vermouth and exceptionally junipery gin. Also, the Martinez recipes called for a cherry. At the turn of the century, the cherry had been replaced by a twist of lemon. No one knows when the olive made its appearance. At this point, no one knows where and when the Martini came in to being, but does anyone really give a faint half damn?

At any rate, last night I made the first of several visits to local establishments in search of the perfect martini - not too ginny, not too vermouthy, inciting of a pleasant tingle, and alcoholic enough to get you buzzy after one.

The panel last night consisted of the following people:

Brent - an entertaining fellow with a pash for The Simpsons. When I first met him, we thought he had a bit of a Seattle problem - in other words, a cat from Seattle alarmingly transported and plunked down in Coeur d'Alene. We took to him like a Provençal to pastis.

Patrick - our sister and author of Making Flippy Floppy.

Sina - one of the drinkingest gals around. Sina is a sophisticated student from Germany and one of the most fabulous people I know. A spot of gin and a cigarette and the entertainment begins!

Kate - while a recent addition to the drinking scene, Kate's a great addition to the crew and has a turn for commentary that'd make a Puritan burst into flames.

The Bar: Mik-n-Mac's

The Lineup:

Brian: Two Tanqueray Martinis, extra dry, shaken, with three olives, one Stoli Green Apple Martini.

Patrick: Two Midori and Stoli Martinis, one Tanqueray Martini - extra dry, shaken, with three olives.

Sina: One Tanqueray Martini, extra dry, shaken, with three olives, one Stoli Green Apple Martini.

Brent: One Tanqueray Martini, extra dry, shaken, with three olives.

Kate: Two Tanqueray Martinis, extra dry, shaken, with three olives.

-----

Patrick was a bit adventurous and decided to try some odd concoction of Midori and Stoli in a Martini glass. Patrick was nice enough to give Sina a swig, but she wasn't sold on it. Too sweet was both her and Patrick's verdict.

My Martini was definitely dry. The bartender had done like Churchill and waved the shaker in the direction of France and that was as close as the vermouth got to the gin. The Martini itself was definitely strong and gave you a tingle as you drank it. My lips were noticeably numb after a sip. All together, the Tanqueray Martinis were middle of the road. The gin was a little bruised from too vigorous of a shaking and as a result the more delicate botanicals of the Tanqueray were lost resulting in a drink that was stiff, but lacking panaché. Additionally, the glass wasn't sufficiently chilled which led the the Martini getting warm much too quickly. Also, I really hate frou-frou Martini glasses. Simple and sleek is best. These were rather clunky and the stem was difficult to work with - I couldn't grasp it and manage a cigarette easily - as it was this weird thick twisted glass jobby.

In my opinion, a Green Apple Martini should be smooth with a touch of apple. These were rather rough - there was a sour taste to it which was rather alarming. Again, the glass hadn't been chilled sufficiently and they were served in one of those annoying glasses that the trendy housewives try to spring on unsuspecting guests.

Sina's comments regarding the Tanqueray Martinis were sufficiently close to mine that I sha'n't bother trying to remember them.

Brent gave his a thumbs down - too ginny and not smooth enough for his tastes.

Kate was surreptitiously adding water to hers as she wasn't expecting something as strong as she got. Her reaction was to totter down the street to get Chinese food from Chinese Gardens. Her other comments were, unfortunately, unprintable.

The Ratings:

Tanqueray Martini (extra dry, shaken, three olives) - 3/5

Midori & Stoli Martini - 1/5

Green Apple Stoli Martini - 2/5

The Martini - An Introduction

A Martini is a dangerous drink, my dear,

I have two at the very most,

three and I'm under the table,

four and I'm under the host.

-- Dorothy Parker

This has always been one of my favourite Dorothy Parker quotes. I love Ms. Parker as much as I love a Martini. Ogden Nash wrote the following poem about the Martini and I heartily commend it to you.

A Drink With Something In It

There is something about a Martini,

A tingle remarkably pleasant;

A yellow, mellow Martini;

I wish I had one at present.

There is something about a Martini,

Ere the dining and dancing begin,

And to tell you the truth,

It is not the vermouth--

I think that perhaps it's the gin.

Starting this week, I'll begin a series of discussions on the Martini - including my views and recipes for this libation - and visit local bars in search of the best Martini in town. The first of the series of articles will be published this week. And we'll be visiting a local establishment to test the abilities of their bartender.

Skål!

Habemus papem

Your Papal Name is Pope Honorius V

You think Pope Benedict IX was a Saint who should have indulged himself a bit more. You're already halfway though "How to Excommunicate for Fun and Profit" and, if you were made Pope, you would have the treasures of the Vatican on www.ebay.com before the end of week one.

Get your own name at What's" My Papal Name?

Wednesday's Excitement

Unlike the Brits, I typically don't find drains to be that terribly exciting. In fact, I rarely give them much thought as long as they're working correctly and raw sewage isn't flowing freely forth. To-day, however, was a bit exciting since the drains in my office building decided to withdraw their labour for a good whack of the morning.

It seems that flushing feminine hygiene products isn't exactly the best idea and after several years of ladies doing so, the main drain decided that enough was enough and went on strike. As a result, three floors of raw sewage was backing up and flooding the basement training rooms and break area. Add to this excitement a major client and corporate visit and we've a recipe for success.

Raw sewage + suits = mass entertainment.

For a good chunk of the morning, people were having to beeline next door to cadge a loo, either that or squirm in their seats while trying to hold it.

Fortunately, the plumber and his jeunes have arrived and resolved the problem. Now there is an horrific stink downstairs as the resulting mess is being cleaned up.

Meanwhile, in other news:

Russian President Vladimir Putin made waves the other day with his commentary decrying the fall of the Soviet Union. Apparently, poorly constructed concrete buildings, breadlines, and a drab economic outlook appeals to President Putin. But then, oddly enough, there are folks in Germany who miss the days of the shoebox-sized Trabi and the aforementioned concrete buildings, breadlines, etc.

In Iraq, the insurgency "is about where it was a year ago," according to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. In other words, contrary to the rosy picture painted by Rumsfeld and the rest, we're still a long way from "winning" (if that is indeed possible) this ghastly war.

Finally, to close things on an up note, I commend to you all the fabulous comic strip Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel. If you haven't ever read it, I'd suggest tottering over to PlanetOut and checking it out. It's most entertaining.