You can't go to the Olive Garden without your server pushing "specialty cocktails," a euphemism for toxic waste. These poisonous catch-alls are enough to make you hurl. "McSewer's 12-year bourbon, chrysanthemum syrup, birch tea, peppermint drop." Or "Pukey's small-batch rye, rosemary, Barfington gin, Sambucca, house-made cola."
Who drinks these messes?
I made the mistake of ordering one last week at an upscale Italian place. The interior was so tasteful that I assumed the cocktails would be too. Wrong! It was billed as "hand-crafted whiskey, mint syrup, lemon juice." Okay, but I didn't want a lot of either the mint syrup or the lemon. "The drink will be off balance!" the waiter scolded. "That's the way I want it." "OK," he huffed. "Then you'll get an unbalanced drink."
I was stunned. What was that ancient dictum about the customer always being right? That's gone the way of the dodo and civil political discourse. He returned with a syrupy-sweet mess. The whiskey was lost in a wash of minty syrup and lemonade. Why drown a small-batch whiskey in lemon-mint Crystal Lite?
My pal Mike, the ex-priest, told me about a great cocktail he'd had at a restaurant called Print. So I made it at home, my way. Print calls the drink the Bee's Knees, and Mike used what Print's bartender told him were the ingredients and proportions. The ingredients were brilliant, the proportions ghastly. I haven't been to Print, so maybe their Bee's Knees works. But I wanted it to taste good to me, so I changed the proportions and renamed it.
The result was fabulous, to me.
Start by making lavender-infused gin. This is not difficult; you just have to find either loose lavender blossoms or herbal lavender tea bags. Try a health food store. Use good but not hideously expensive gin. It's foolish to buy a super-premium brand if you're going to flavor it yourself. Pour as much gin as you want to lavenderize into a clean, odor-free jar with a tight-fitting lid. (If the jar or lid still smells like pickles, use another jar.) Dump in a handful of lavender (or open some lavender tea bags and pour the contents into the jar). Don't worry about proportions; they don't matter. Let it stand for two days; shake it whenever you pass by. Then use a tea strainer and a funnel to decant the infusion into an attractive bottle with a tight-fitting lid or unblemished cork. The gin will not have turned purple. Miraculously, it will be honey colored.
Make a small bottle of Really Simple Syrup, but instead of using sugar, use equal parts raw honey and water. Just shake them together until the honey dissolves. Be sure to have a lemon on hand.
You could continue the theme by using honey produced by bees that collect lavender pollen, but I prefer honey made from tough, streetwise New York City bees. Yes, there are honey-producing bees in the city, and I buy as locally as possible - honey made by my neighborhood bees. Hence the drink's name.
This recipe is simply the way I like it. Make it taste good to you.
The Union Square
1 part lavender-infused Beefeater gin
Lemon juice to taste
Really Simple Honey Syrup to taste
For a strong drink, pour the ingredients into a shaker filled with ice, shake quickly, strain and serve. For a less potent drink, serve it on ice and let it water down.
For a night of mixed drink alchemy, attend The Science of Cocktails at the Exploratorium. Discover the chemistry behind tasty cocktails while enjoying them at this fundraiser for the popular interactive science museum. $120-$185. Thursday, January 26. 7:30-11pm. Palace of Fine Arts, 3601 Lyon St. 561-0360. www.exploratorium.edu