Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Phase one, in which Doris gets her oats

Aside from the occasional Michelada, I avoid beer cocktails.  Why try and change a beverage which, in its purest form, is better than any other drink in the world?  Its like asking your girlfriend to wear a Nixon mask during sex, then paying 11 dollars for it.

Well, guess I felt like railing Nixon this past weekend at Henry Public.  I ordered an oatmeal stout (Otis by Sixpoint) and champagne (who cares) cocktail to wash down my über-manly turkey leg sandwich.  It seems like a terrible idea now, pairing the drink of a coward with the meal of a king, but hindsight is 20/20.

The drink itself was... fine.  Pretty much exactly what you'd imagine.  It wasn't as much a lack of harmony between the flavors as it was a lack of purpose.  The beer didn't enhance the champagne, and the champagne OBVIOUSLY didn't enhance the beer.  It was a middle school dance where no one took the lead.

Ultimately it confirmed my belief that a cocktail needs a paint-stripping alcohol as its base.  Unless you're drinking one of those excruciating "look what we figured out how to do!" 120 proof beers from Holland, there is no need to "take the edge off" any beer.  Beer is already so delicious and complex, it does not require any dressing up.  Your girlfriend is perfect as she is, you jerk.