"Down on Lexington they're wearingNew shoes stuck to aging feetAnd close their eyes and openAnd they'll recognize the aging streetAnd think about how things were rightWhen they were young and veins were tightAnd if you are the ghost of Christmas PastThen wont you stay the night?"
Ne Me Quitte Pas (2002) by Regina Spektor
I had my first Whiskey Sour several years ago when a good friend of mine took me to a bar which he thought made it the way it's supposed to be made, and I can't say I was terribly impressed with what was presented to me that night. Now that I'm making them myself, the Whiskey Sour had a became a personal after-dinner staple of mine. To a shaker filled with ice, I pour in one-and-a-half shot of Maker's Mark bourbon whiskey, a single shot of freshly squeezed lemon juice, and a half shot of simple syrup (which you can make at home by mixing equal parts water and sugar). Then, I gave it a good 15 seconds of vigorous shaking before straining it into a rocks glass filled with new, crisp ice.
|Some people like a little egg white to go with it, but euuughhh.|
This is a boldly flavoured cocktail. The tartness of fresh lemon juice blends quite well with the sweetness of the bourbon (a balance you may not be able to achieve with say, a scotch). For garnish, I usually float an orange wheel on top - and if I don't have any oranges at hand, I would still sling a teeny-tiny splash of orange juice in the mix anyway. I find that it goes a long way in taking the edge off.
About me? I'm okay, I guess. I have reached a kind of plateau of misery and there are just miles and miles of monotonous emotional wasteland stretching out in every horizon. The highlight of my week was pretty much the moment when I heard The National's rendition of The Rains of Castamere at the end of the Blackwater episode of Game of Thrones. It was every bit as chilling as I imagined it when it played during its iconic moment in the third book of A Song of Ice and Fire.
Oh, Regina Spektor's new album, What We Saw from the Cheap Seats, also debuted last week and let me tell you: it did not disappoint one bit. My immediate favourite track from it was How which (like One More Time With Feeling from her 2009 album) has that familiar iconic flavour which made me think that I must have heard it a long time ago, but I couldn't have. Maybe it's the simplicity of the arrangement. Maybe it's the old-fashioned romance and naiveté shining through in its lyrics. Or maybe, it's just the heartbreaking sincerity in Ms Spektor's beautiful voice.
"Oh baby, how can I begin again?How can I try to love someone new?Someone who isn't you?How can our love be trueWhen I'm not, ooh, I'm not oh-ver you?"
Call Them Brothers, which she sang in haunting duet with Jack Dishel of Only Son, was another track I have on loop in my playlist. There's also Patron Saint, a deceptively jaunty song which I like very much and in it, she laments the fact that true love exists. I tend to agree. After all, only hopeless romantics who believe it exists would try to look for it, right?
Today, my posting in Neurology ends. Tomorrow will be my first day in Cardiology in an entirely different hospital. I feel nothing.
k0k s3n w4i