The first printed record of a “smash” cocktail is found in the 1862 publication, How to Make Mixed Drinks, or the Bon-Vivant’s Companion, by Jerry Thomas. This is a garden-fresh variation of a smash, replacing whiskey with small batch bourbon and showcasing the unique flavor pairing of plum and sage.
They always say to write what you know, so here I go… I accidentally drank too much tequila last night. As I sit here with the day half wasted and feeling like I’ve got a mariachi band doing somersaults in my head, I decided to turn my lemons into lemonade and turn my night of self-inflicted debauchery into a classy and educational tequila-tasting tale.
During the entire process of “Serious Cocktail Inventing”, I kept getting visions of nasty old men with gold chains entangled in their salt and pepper chest hair, hanging out naked in silk smoking jackets, puffing on cigars and talking about innately boring sh*t. What? I have an overactive imagination. Shut up. That’s how the Hugh Hefner was born. Make it, then send me a thank you note.
Editor’s Note: The only reason this recipe is found in the “Survive It” category is because the author attempted to light herself on fire, Michael Jackson style, in the process of making it. Management does not recommend leaning over a simmering pot of ANYTHING sitting on a gas stove if (A) you have long hair (B) its not in a ponytail and (C) you are not a cast member of Jackass I, Jackass 2, or Jackass 3D.
My first experience with flowers as food came when I was a child. A local gift shop carried ridiculously overpriced tins of French candy in such flavors as lavender, violet and rose. Fascinated by not only the ornate and gorgeously packaged sweets but the idea of flower-flavored candy as well, I saved up my allowance for weeks to buy one. Each egg-shaped hard candy was perfumed and flowery, not overly sweet, and had one solitary anise seed located in the center. I quickly devoured all the contents. I’m not sure anything even made it home.