Blimey!

February 02, 2010 (Day 3) — Blimey!

Blimey! If I’m thick as mince, then I’m all mouth and no trousers! Spotted dick.

… My deepest apologies to my English bretheren. That was unbelievably offensive, and I throw myself upon your mercies. Eh, chaps? OK… now I’m done.

Okay… NOW I’m done.

And yes, I realize scotch is from Scotland (I’m guessing that’s where they got the name. Not entirely sure about that though. I’ll double-check and get back to you.) But, with something called the “Blimey!” you bet I’m going to take the time to put in a few well-timed digs on the English!

• 2 oz blended scotch
• 1/2 oz lime juice
• 1/2 tsp superfine sugar

Now, normally I’m the kind of guy who prefers his scotch either neat or on the rocks. So, naturally, I was reticent (simply reticent!) to mix it with anything. But, then I figured that the whole purpose of this little adventure was to try new things! And, what else is blended scotch good for if not the occasional mixer?

Put the lime juice, scotch and sugar in a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, shake to mix. Pour into a cocktail glass. Easy enough, right?

Unlikely bedfellows?

But seriously…. Lime? And sugar? In my scotch… If I don’t come back alive, send a search party (with a case of The Balvenie)…

You know, I gotta say… I went into that fully expecting some sort of retched concotion and mish-mash of flavors. Isn’t always nice when your expectations are met? And then exceeded. Blimey, indeed… The first hit is of the oaky scotch with this odd hint of sweet. Then, like your drunk buddy Jimmy at your brother’s wedding, the lime comes crashing in, ruining everybody’s good time.

Like Jimmy, only less hairy.

The lime kills it. I could almost forgive that little bit of sugar in there, if only because it helps to balance the taste of the scotch. But… goddamn you lime. Goddamn you… Even after I’ve finished the cocktail, that taste of lime hangs around like some kind of burnt-out, middle-aged hippie on Haight-Ashbury. Bumming everybody out.

The only good thing that an come of this drink is that it’s some ripping practical joke on Yankees like me.

So… ultimate verdict: Like a redhead on a beach… somethings were just never meant to be.