#martini-green

#martini-green

The redesign, led by New York-based Legeard Studio, turns what was once a fairly standard hotel entry into something more along the lines of a design-forward hangout you'd actually hang out at.

Named after a community-focused cafe in Dublin, this drink has a flavour profile that brings to mind berry compote and scones. It's delicious as a single serving, or make a big batch and serve as a punch to share with friends.

But then the playoffs arrive, and you and I are reminded of what makes twilight football-outdoors and on grass-special. You start off in broad daylight as both teams fuck around for a quarter or two. Then the sun slowly begins to bleed away, taking all distractions along with it as it sinks below the horizon. Now we're in primetime, when everyone is watching. Now every player on the field is in the spotlight, and you, the viewer at home, are dialed in.

Kina Lillet was still being made according to the original recipe that it launched with in the late 1800s - fruit liqueur, wine, and quinine.

Used to strain ice and other ingredients out of shaken cocktails, a Hawthorne strainer is a small, flat, spoon-like gadget with holes plus a coiled spring around the edge. You simply fit it over the rim of a glass or shaker tin before pouring liquids through. It's essential for cleanly separating the cocktail from the ice without spilling or creating a mess during the pour.

What goes into the ideal Italian cocktail, as a result, is as much about sociability and presentation as it is about a specific flavor profile or provenance of ingredients. It isn't just a drink, it's a way of life. As soulful as a Puccini-penned opera. As colorful and exuberant as a summer sunset over the Amalfi Coast. Equally as expressive regardless of time or season.

just before we collectively stumbled into this shitty timeline marred by "fake news" and idiot fascism, a journalist did that thing that journalism used to do: hold power to account. In this case, the power was Big Bay Leaf, and the reporter was Kelly Conaboy, writing for the Awl on a "vast bay leaf conspiracy" that-then as now-cons well-meaning home cooks into buying weird leaves that taste and smell like "nothing."