He reached for the tall heavy-bottomed crystal shaker he had used almost every day for as long as he could remember. It was a gift from his mother-in-law from some fancy place whose name he had forgotten. The sticker that signified it legitimate had long been removed the same way he always pulled the band off of a cigar before he smoked it. He knew what it was and didn't really care for anyone else to know his business.
From the freezer, he grabbed a hunk of ice. He made his own ice from filtered water. Seeing as it makes up a portion of his drink he felt it best to know where it came from out of respect for the gin. Shoddy ice can ruin a cocktail so delicate. He held each piece and whacked them with the back of a long-handled spoon to fracture the frozen gems. When the glass was full he stirred the broken ice to chill the vessel and dumped out the melted water.
He only used two liquid ingredients. Many may say that the addition of orange bitters adds something to the drink but whatever that something was he surely didn't care for. His bottle of bitters sat dusty on the bar cart. A heavy pour of gin from a dark green bottle that always seemed to be almost empty and a light dose of vermouth from a bottle that always seemed to be about full worked for him.
Everyone gets up in arms about stirring and shaking this drink. Of course, he doesn't shake but his stir is pretty violent. He feels as if he has to beat the cold into the drink. It always works. When it is thoroughly sorted out he strains it directly into a chilled thin rimmed glass with a stem. He squeezes a lemon peel over the surface and promptly tosses it away without ever touching the edges of the glass. The drinking of the cocktail takes really no time at all. He does it swiftly while it is still cold, almost vibrating.
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Bar To Home
A simple translation from bar to home.