"Hear no evil, speak no evil - and you'll never be invited to a party."
-- Oscar Wilde {writer, poet}
It is a terribly taunting thing when a young teenager is in a restaurant and flips through the desserts and drinks menu only to be denied permission to order one of the beautiful alcoholic concoctions. For as long as I can remember, I have been infatuated with the alluring colors and delectable presentation of cocktails. They always looked so harmless; they couldn't possibly have been any more dangerous than a Shirley Temple or the rich, purple grape juice I used to pour into wine glasses when I wanted to look sophisticated at the ripe, old age of eight. In high school, Gabi and I would fantasize about having a cocktail-making party and discovering our own gloriously intoxicating recipes. One Christmas, each of us gave the other an illustrated cocktail recipe book (we had not planned on giving the same gift!). It became a running joke with my parents for me to ask to order a drink nearly every time we went out to eat. I was always promptly scoffed at and reminded of my age, which always included that dreadful number one in the tens digit place.
But, behold! I am now a delightful twenty-one years old! (Oh, how long it has taken to get here...) I am now legally permitted to purchase the pretty drinks that grace the menus. I can even get into a bar where they serve nothing but potent spirits and boozy inebriants, poured from the glistening glass bottles illuminated along the top shelves behind the counter. I am still growing accustomed to this privilege even after three months. When the waiter doesn't card me I get that sneaky feeling like I've gotten away with something scandalous. Or, when Michael and I pull up to a liquor store, my initial reaction is to stay in the car to avoid getting caught. So this holiday season I am going to indulge in the luxuries of my age and taste the eggnog (and whatever else looks Christmas-y!) I don't even care if they are laden with calories!
Read on for some scrumptious holiday cocktails to accompany your twelve days of Christmas and let's get this party started.
-S.
P.S. Upon rereading this post I realized how positively puritanical I sound and it made me chuckle.