Who doesn't love a great cocktail? Well, a few people I am sure but years ago I was introduced to a fancy white elixir...the White Chocolate Martini. This temptress, so perfect and chic, is also what I like to call "Devil in Disguise." I have a little story about it...like to hear it? Here it goes:
One night out at a fancy fete, I am offered this white chocolate martini option. I resist because, unlike Willie Wonka, I am not down with the candy factory and that doesn't sound like a cocktail as much as it sounds like some kind of milkshake served at Chili's. But I am assured it is fantastic. I reluctantly take one sip.
BOOM. BOOM. POW.
It is fantastic. I enjoyed one or two and soon realize I need not be limited to where I can have this delicious concoction so I ask the bartender what is in it. In the weeks to come, I fetch the ingredients and proceed to make them to the delight of many a guest at parties at my home.
So one night, while fraternizing with a male guest at my home. I proceed to make these for him. Things to keep in mind 1. he is a man and not likely interested in smarmy choco drink. 2. Might want to test drive that martini shaker you just bought.
So let's assume I failed on both accounts. What happens next is I show off shaking my martini shaker full of girl drink. So I shake it to the left, I shake it to the right, I shake that little martini with all of my might. Martini shaker I did NOT test drive. Martini shaker that was on sale for a reason. Martini lid is not being securely held by me because I am more focused on 1. showing off and 2. playing coquettish Flirty McSwagger.
In mid strong arm shaking, lid flies off like a missile to my right. Followed by a clear trajectory of contents of martini shaker that are intercepted by my male friend and his crisp button-down shirt. Not a drop or two mind of you. But the entire contents of martini shaker.
Mission to be stunning and foxy and worldly? Try again. Survey says: Not very ladylike...AND that's what you get for showing off.
Fast forward a year. I am dating a fun, fantastic, hilarious cat nicknamed Milkman. Milkman has a very cool brother who has a very cool girlfriend. We convene one night for dinner at said brother's home and I proffer up the delicious martini I know to be a hit among at least one other attendee (the girl.)
The drawback of a martini that basically includes white chocolate liqueur and vodka is that is it DELICIOUS. Like a sultry little balm for that terribly busy day. So we make martinis. And more martinis. Oh, might want to eat a little something. Oh, no? Just thirsty? Well, slow down Missy. But that doesn't happen. At one point, I aim to set my drink down on the table and somehow miss it completely. I say I aimed to do it because the table was quite large. But I blame the table since it was made of glass and was really more like an optical illusion. MY WORD that made a mess. So we clean it up. And because we have all enjoyed several cocktails, it seems very hilarious. Even though clearly, milky drink poured in carpet is about as funny as a hair barbeque.
Later, I feel rest is necessary. I decided to slink away and find a resting spot. Hmmm. Where should I go. I scuttle around and find the perfect spot. Perfect at the time. Later, Milkman clearly has to send out a search party because NO ONE thought I would be comfortably and quietly laying down in the loo. Guess what? I had foresight. I was going to need to be in that location. It was only a matter of time. I declined the invitation to leave this area. In fact, I encouraged Milkman to exit. STAT. I will skip the next part of the story but lets say I was 1. over-served. 2. Probably just had food poisoning.
Now, I straighten up. I fly right. I rejoin the cast and crew downstairs. I am fine. Well, fine-ish. I think. I am sure I was fine.
However, the next morning. Milkman's brother comes downstairs and asks a simple and innocuous question:
Why is my toothbrush wet.
No one has an answer. He asks again, clearly because he is smart: WHY IS MY TOOTHBRUSH WET?
Through a hazy film of cotton, I climb out of the bag of hammers known as my mental state and I recall very clearly. Uh oh. I think I know the answer. I carefully weigh keeping quiet vs. speaking up which is only going to make my head hurt more.
Me: I used it.
Him, his girlfriend, Milkman: WHAT?
Me: Don't worry. I didn't brush my teeth with it.
Him: Oh for ____ sake. What did you do with it?
Me: Long pause. Not for dramatics, Meryl Streep, but because I am trying to recollect.
I used the handle.
Him: FOR WHAT?
Me: To make myself throw up.
Him: Holding toothbrush by handle, immediately drops toothbrush on floor and kicks it away.
Thankfully someone laughed. I didn't have the strength to join in.
Mission: to be cool, fun, chic and a great addition to the party not to mention an awesome girlfriend: TRY AGAIN. Survey says: NOT very ladylike.
And in the event you don't need a spritz of Lysol to erase that imagery from your mind: The White Chocolate Martini (I am sure) is still delicious to many people:
Pour 2 shots of vodka
2 shots of Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur
over ice in a martini shaker. SECURE the lid!!! In the words of OutKast: Shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Pour thin swirl of chocolate syrup in martini glass, pour contents of shaker. Sip like a lady (or gentleman). Do not get over-served. Do not drop on carpet. Do not borrow toothbrushes without asking.
And have a gorgeous weekend.