The Story Behind the Drink
By Vio Green
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a bartender, but as I grew older, I realized it really isn’t all that I thought it was: being in a loud bar for several hours with music blasting in your ears until it gets overwhelmingly difficult just to think, intoxicated people everywhere, and the stench of alcohol crowding your nostrils and sticking to your clothes, horrible. Yet, when I was little, I never understood all of that! I loved mixing ‘drinks’ into cups, and I thought that was all there was to it; it sounded perfect! I never realized there were instructions, specific ways to make drinks, or that I had to follow a recipe; I loved creating my own concoctions!
Every time I mixed up some new foul liquid that could barely even be called a drink, I took a sip (I always loved it; sour fruity drinks have always tasted good to me, and that's pretty much all I made). I would then make two glasses for my parents to try out. I would stare at them as though it would, “absolutely break my heart if you don’t try it, pretty please, it’s super good, I promise!” And it worked every time.
There was one occasion where I cooked up a rather nasty drink, one that even tasted horrible to my puny baby taste buds, yet instead of giving up, I had a brilliant idea. I started getting the hint when I watched my dad make a sour face every time my mother made him drink one of my creations. I knew they despised it, but they didn’t want to hurt my feelings! So, I decided to see how far they would be willing to go to avoid breaking my ‘wittle heart.’
I remember raiding the cupboards, trying to find the most random things to put into a drink in excessive amounts: spoonfuls of sugar, random fruits, those little water flavouring things, juices, water, and practically anything that could go in a drink went into that drink. I even added some cute decorations to make it look pretty.
I watched my parents take the first sip; my mom almost managed to not let her disgust show, but I saw her grimace. My dad immediately spat it out but was forced by my mom to take a full sip and swallow it; it took a solid 10 minutes of negotiation (and some fake tears) before he finally gave in. Sometimes I wonder if they ever caught on to my antics.
Sadly, this marked the end of my at-home bartending job; my mom banned me from making any more strange drinks and crushed my dreams! I quickly got over it after about 10 minutes when the Octonauts mysteriously started playing on the television.
Every time I mixed up some new foul liquid that could barely even be called a drink, I took a sip (I always loved it; sour fruity drinks have always tasted good to me, and that's pretty much all I made). I would then make two glasses for my parents to try out. I would stare at them as though it would, “absolutely break my heart if you don’t try it, pretty please, it’s super good, I promise!” And it worked every time.
There was one occasion where I cooked up a rather nasty drink, one that even tasted horrible to my puny baby taste buds, yet instead of giving up, I had a brilliant idea. I started getting the hint when I watched my dad make a sour face every time my mother made him drink one of my creations. I knew they despised it, but they didn’t want to hurt my feelings! So, I decided to see how far they would be willing to go to avoid breaking my ‘wittle heart.’
I remember raiding the cupboards, trying to find the most random things to put into a drink in excessive amounts: spoonfuls of sugar, random fruits, those little water flavouring things, juices, water, and practically anything that could go in a drink went into that drink. I even added some cute decorations to make it look pretty.
I watched my parents take the first sip; my mom almost managed to not let her disgust show, but I saw her grimace. My dad immediately spat it out but was forced by my mom to take a full sip and swallow it; it took a solid 10 minutes of negotiation (and some fake tears) before he finally gave in. Sometimes I wonder if they ever caught on to my antics.
Sadly, this marked the end of my at-home bartending job; my mom banned me from making any more strange drinks and crushed my dreams! I quickly got over it after about 10 minutes when the Octonauts mysteriously started playing on the television.
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