April 20, 2012
I’ve only had one other Charles Williams quote on Spiked Punch, and it was only a bonus quote along with a recipe for the Zazarac. Admittedly, it is one amazing quote. Really, go read it. Or you’ll be sad. And don’t fret, I’ll wait.
Okay, that was great, yes? The below quote may not have the umph, but it’s also good, and from the book The Hot Spot, which was originally titled Hell Hath No Fury and which was, oddly enough, made into a movie with Don Johnson of the well-feathered hair. Don’t hold that against it–if you dig the noir country of fiction it’s a must read. Williams walked the same 50s and 60s noir and hard-boiled aisle as James M. Cain and Cornell Wollrich (all three I’d read all day, if it was up to me), though he has his own voice and style and particular brand of relentlessness and bleak beauty and drinks that sometimes do flow. I picked this particular set of lines, though, because it’s coming on summer and many are dreaming of sand, beaches, and escape.
And you could get away from the rat-race for a long time with that kind of money, with a brown-eyed girl on the beach somewhere in the Caribbean, sailing a cat boat and going fishing off the reefs and drinking Cuba Libres where it’s always afternoon . . .
–Charles Williams, The Hot Spot
April 2, 2012
It’s now just about a year since the beginning of wife Nat and I’s last month of Italian pre-tirement (if that makes sense–we came back May of last year). Which is, if not tragic, at least personally sad. Luckily, there’s wine here–even if it does come packing a lot of markup. But it’s here, and brings some of Italy along with it. And luckily there’s Francesco Redi. Who was a physician (to some of those Medici dukes), scientist, and poet. Those days you could be more of everything (and by those days, I mean the 1600s). He was also from Arezzo (where I spent a few fun days when living there) and wrote the poem “The Mamelukes May Love,” all about wine (said poem translated in In Their Cups). The bottom is just the poem’s finale—hey, you can buy the book for the whole thing and help me get back to Italy.
Sweet ladies,
for a moment, do not drink,
but run your fingers like garlands
through my hair. I won’t crave your
sugary egg punch, or golden
sorbets, a thousand fragranced waters,
because these indolent drinks are only
for your sweet lips. Wine, wine
is for those desire euphoria,
to forget their fears. But be not shy about it–
I tip my glasses crazily, happily,
at least six times a year.
— Francesco Redi, The Mamelukes May Love
March 26, 2012
Once in a while, even I can step back and let other do the talking. As long as what they’re going to say is quick, cause really, I can’t give up the stage for long. No, no, what I meant to say is as long as what they say has serious weight and meaning. Or is really jolly. Or both, as with the below short poem called Five Reasons from 1600’s theologian-philosopher (theolopher?) Henry Aldritch. It’s featured in that book that everyone should have (at least everyone who like a drink and can read), In Their Cups. It’s good enough that someone should have it as a tattoo. Maybe you?
If all be true that I do think,
There are five reasons we should drink:
Good wine, a friend, or being dry,
Or lest we should be by and by,
Or any other reason why.
— Henry Aldritch, Five Reasons
March 16, 2012
Much like Mr. Sponge himself, the Sporting Tour has lounged around the Spiked Punch couches and guest rooms and breakfast buffets for awhile (read the first Mr. Sponge Cocktail Talk post here for more background), but we need one or two more quotes to round out the experience. And the following, dear reader, are them:
He exclaimed in a most open-hearted air, ‘Well, now, what shall we have to drink?’ adding, ‘You smoke of course–shall it be gin, rum, or Hollands–Hollands, rum, or gin?’
‘O! Liquor them well, and send them home to their mammas,’ suggested Captain Bouncey, who was all for the drink. ‘But they won’t take their (hiccup),’ replied Sir Harry, holding up a Curaçao bottle to show how little had disappeared.’ ‘Try them with cherry brandy,’ suggested Captain Seedeybuck, adding ‘it’s sweeter.’
–Cocktail Talk, R.S. Surtees, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour
Tags: cherry brandy, Cocktail Talk, curaçao, Gin, Hollands gin, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour, R.S. Surtees, Rum
Posted in: Cocktail Talk, Gin, Liqueurs, Rum
March 14, 2012
I liked the first round of Mr. Sponge cocktail-talking so much that I’ve decided to extend his run on the Spiked Punch with two more quotes, one today and one the next time I decide to post (which should be later this week, but who knows, really? I could be called off to battle Gamera. That stuff happens). This time, there’s a bit of a party and Mr. Sponge is invited. And you are too (at least through this quote):
Sir Harry and party had had a wet night of it, and were all more or less drunk. They had kept up the excitement with a Champagne breakfast and various liqueurs, to say nothing of cigars. They were a sad, debauched-looking set, some of them scarcely out of their teens, with pallid cheek, trembling hands, sunken eyes, and all the symptoms of premature decay.
–Cocktail Talk, R.S. Surtees, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour
March 12, 2012
You know, I like to think I know my mid-1850 literature. And thereabouts. I mean, Dickens and I are tighter than Cher’s pants. And Trollope and I are close as two beers in a six-pack. But up until very recently when I came across it in a big pile of books at the Library Book Sale, I’d never heard of Mr.Sponge’s Sporting Tour, or its author R.S. Surtees. I’m going to guess he didn’t hang that much with the earlier authors, as he seems a bit more, um, sporting, in that English kind of way (think foxes and horses and billiards). The book follows the Pickwick Papers in a sort-of romping adventure style, tracking its main very sponge-y character as he hunts with the hounds and, well, sponges off of people. At first, you think, this Mr. Sponge is too spongey (hah! Can I really say that?), but then I, at least, just started wondering why I was slaving every 8 to 5:30 instead of just selling horses and abusing lame-o’s hospitality. Heck, I may end up doing that yet.
Spigot presently appeared with a massive silver salvar, bearing tumblers, sugar, lemon, nutmeg, and other implements of negus. ‘Will you join me in a little wine-and-water?’ asked Jawleyford, pointing to the apparatus and bottle ends,’ or will you have a fresh bottle?—plenty in the cellar,’ added he, with a flourish of his hand, through he kept looking steadily at the negus tray. ‘Oh–why–I’m afraid–I doubt–I think I should hardly be able to do justice to a bottle single-handed,’ replied Sponge. ‘Then have negus,’ said Jawleyford; ‘you’ll find it very refreshing; medical men recommend it after violent exercise in preference to wine.
–Cocktail Talk, R.S. Surtees, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour
February 27, 2012
It’s Friday! Which means you should be thinking kick-up-my-heels and not clean-up-my-kitchen. But, but, but, with work schedules that are so packed, and weekdays that don’t seem to have a stitch of free time, often the weekends end up being a time to only shepherd the house back from chaos and into shape for the next week. Well, here’s an idea–track down a copy of Phyllis Diller’s Housekeeping Hints and get some advice on how to keep a house clean with minimal effort. Or, no effort at all. Cause Madam Diller is much more about the yuks than the sweeps, being a famous comedian from back a-ways. So, the book is full of suggestions like, “leave your sink full of dirty dishes. It’s a good way to cover up the dirty sink.” Which are perfect for Friday, when you should be thinking young, wild, and free and not detergent, elbow grease, and bleach. She also talks a lot about her penny-grasping husband Fang, which leads to the below line, which I love for some odd reason, and which ties the book in to the booze blog.
When we have guests, he puts a cherry in a glass of beer and calls it a Manhattan.
— Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller’s Housekeeping Hints
February 20, 2012
I suppose I should in the below attribution attribute this quote to Patrick Dennis, as he wrote the book House Party under the nom de plume Virginia Rowans. And Dennis was an interesting chap, the author of the fabulously successful novel (and then film) Auntie Mame and the only author to have three books on the New York Times bestseller list at once. And then his books stopped selling and he ended up being a butler (partially by choice, as I guess he liked to buttle) for Ray Kroc, the founder of McDonalds. Really–as I said, interesting chap. And as his real name was actually Edward Everett Tanner III and as he decided to write the effervescently fun House Party as Mrs. Rowans, I’m sticking with her as the attributed author. He’d probably appreciate it.
Darling, would you run out and buy a bottle of Champagne? I can’t entertain as shabbily as this and I’ve spent everything I have buying vulgar things like Scotch and gin. I daren’t even cash another check.
–Virginia Rowans, House Party
