Extra innings meant that he was on edge. She had been asleep since the stretch. He usually loved West Coast away games but September baseball carries a different weight when you are only a few games ahead. The announcers yammered on about great plays from the start of the season and how players had either blossomed or shriveled . . .
He poured the last sip of wine for her and waltzed over to the small bar cart to see about a nightcap. Neither of them needed one, but the fireworks would be starting soon. They had been an unexpected surprise throughout the summer. An amenity he enjoyed far more than the gym he assumed was on the third or fourth floor.
. . .
He had vowed long ago never to ask a bartender to "surprise" him. He had also vowed never to smoke again. The sweet drifting scent of cured Virginia tobacco that followed him into the bar proved he had a problem keeping his vows.
Being a simple drinker he liked to keep things easy: gin when the sun was up and . . .
And I didn't know it until I got back
For the longest time, I have avoided the Chicago Cocktail. Mostly because I have never had a good one. It is one of those cocktails that you see on menus of newly opened places that have no soul. The new bar manager who was waiting tables a year before thought it was a good idea to dig this one out of his reprinted copy of . . .
The original cocktail of Logan Square
This drink is not mine. A good friend and one of the owners of the Whistler, Billy Helmkamp, came up with this smooth sipping winner about ten years ago. I mentioned him last week on the blog when I was talking about bars that keep their sidewalks clean. Billy has been at it for a long time in the Windy City. If you get . . .