Martini Party Aftermath

Impromptu Sunday night martini parties...

...make for difficult Monday mornings.

New Puggle, Booze, and ABBA

On Saturday, we took a road trip to the great white north....er....Maine, with three goals:

1. Pick up puggle puppy
2. Stop at New Hampshire State Liquor Store
3. Listen to ABBA's Greatest Hits

My primary goal was the booze, Jamen's was the pooch, and Ryan's was, well, ABBA. For the record, Ryan brought the CD along for the ride.

After a traffic-filled 2+ hour journey to Kennebuck, Maine, we arrived at the breeder's home, and Jamen once and for all welcomed Riley Cyrus into his world. I will take credit for amending her name, as Riley was simply not enough for this diva in training (the doggie, not Jamen).

This is Riley Cyrus. She's an 8-week old puggle, and quite adorable.










This is the New Hampshire State Liquor Store, a wonderland of spirits and vino, all tax-free and discounted atop that. Although NH is assuredly a purple state, and arguably a red one, they know how to drink, placating residents and passers-through with the promise of cheap booze.

It is impossible for me to leave this building without having spent under $150.

Yesterday was no exception.

But, now I'm stocked up. 8 standard bottles of wine, 1 magnum of wine, and ginormous 1.75 liter bottles of Bombay Sapphire, Martini & Rossi Dry Vermouth, and Parrot Bay, and a not-as-large-but-still-big bottle of Bailey's, all for $175.

I have never made a proper martini for myself, mainly because:

1. I technically don't know how
2. I have never had dry vermouth on hand
3. I didn't own martini glasses
4. I didn't have fruit / olive spears

I solved #2 on Saturday, and solved #s 3 and 4 earlier today.

#1 is still unsolved, but my cocktail book is now sitting on my kitchen counter, ready and waiting for later this afternoon.

Bachelor Party in the Hudson Valley

I just finished eating some delicious raw vegetables for dinner this evening, mainly because:
1. I have a fridge full of them
2. I need a serious amount of detoxing after this past weekend

I haven't been to all that many bachelor parties - maybe 4 or 5 so far. This one was certainly one of the more decadent of the bunch.

In the universal code of men, it is highly inappropriate to reveal specifics unsuitable for non-PG audiences, but I can say that the weekend involved kayaking, beer, Mario Kart, and the consumption of a broken light bulb.

Friday afternoon, I picked up Brian, Kelly, and little Mabel for the drive out to Western Mass (for a pit stop to drop the ladies off with the grandfolks). After some delicious burgers and corn, Brian and I continued across the MA/NY border into the Hudson Valley. A 40 miles drive down the Taconic Parkway landed us in Highland, NY - a town west of the Hudson Valley's armpit (aka Poughkeepsie) - at Indian Ridge, our weekend home.

We put our trust in Jill the GPS, and she directed us to what seemed, on the outside, to be a warehouse in the middle of a field. Strange, we thought. This doesn't appear to be a quaint bed and breakfast in a charming small New York town.

But with the utmost degree of confidence in technology, we walked up a staircase and opened a door to find the bachelor party! It seems that Indian Ridge isn't much of a bed and breakfast or anything, but rather a huge residence rented out by its owner on occasion. The main room had a large bar with eight stools, a pool table, a large TV with seating area, two bathrooms, a renovated kitchen, a bedroom with waterbed and jacuzzi, and two cast iron staircases to large lofted sleeping areas. The entire interior was covered with lacquered wood - walls, beams, ceiling, and floor. Actually, a cool place for our home base.

Surveying the coolers, fridges, and countertops, we found an incredible amount of snacks and beer - plenty of food for the weekend.

Now, it's 10:30 when we show up, and I am exhausted. Somehow, my second wind hit me just in time, and next thing I know it's 3:30 am and I'm many beers, chips, and snacks into the night. Given out 8:30 am wakeup call for kayaking in the Hudson, I claimed an oversized comfy corner chair as my weekend sleeping quarters, and hit the hay.

Saturday began with a 45 minute drive in an un-airconditioned conversion van that comfortably seated 14 folks (but we had 15....). We showed up about an hour late for our guided kayak excursion in the Hudson River. This was a much different kayaking trip that the one in the Charles River a few weeks ago. I believe there were five guides who spent much care explaining the kayaking nuances to the group, most of whom were experienced athletes from college days. We were warned to secure and sunglasses with croakies, and to yell if we accidentally tipped over in the water.

Sure enough, one of the guys tipped immediately upon launching, losing his sunglasses. I decided to put mine in my life vest's pocket for safe keeping. We had another 3 or 4 tippings throughout the afternoon, but I managed to avoid it.

After lunch, it was on to the craft beer festival - much different from the one in Boston a few weeks ago. 12 New York brewers set up shop, and $20 landed me all I could drink. I have learned that after an hour of 2 ounce beer samples, I talk to strangers readily.

Back to the lodge in the sweatbox van, and back to Mario Kart - the most addictive component of the weekend. 4 player Mario Kart is quite amazing, and I'm a bit shocked that it sucked in many of the bachelor party attendees for long periods of time.

After a catered dinner, my lasagna baby in my belly induced a nap, and I ended up skipping Saturday night's brief excursion on the town in Hyde Park, NY. I fell asleep on the couch about 5 minutes after sitting down (90 degrees + kayaking + beer + lasagna = sleep), and the party returned to the lodge just a brief 90 minutes after the caravan departed. By then, everyone was spent. The light bulb chewing had ended, and after goodbyes in the morning...the party is on hold until the wedding in a few weeks.

The ride back was quick and painless, less the second $70 gas fillup and the revelation that the switch that regulates how my console blows air (panel / defrost / at my feet) has now failed, and I'm stuck with defrost as my only option - tons of fun when I've already put $2,500 into my finally-paid-off Jeep this year. I'm hoping that this is a warranty project, but expecting that it won't be.

Overall, an excellent weekend. Only one minor flesh wound (Brian, finger, door slam), and assuredly some bruised livers in the bunch - nothing some fresh veggies and water can't clear up!

American Craft Beer Festival

Just when I'm flat out of things to say, I have a full day like I did on Saturday.

I have resolved that whenever I'm feeling a bit of a lull, I need to grab a camera. Photos tell stories.

After a long morning walk with Rosie, and a long walk through the city during the afternoon, I was a bit spent and dehydrated. What a perfect physical state for a Beer Festival!

Beer Advocate's 2008 American Craft Beer Festival had its final of three sessions at the Seaport's World Trade Center, a building I had never entered. $40 landed me a plastic tasting glass, and full access to hundreds of interesting beers.

I had the schedule planned out, wanting to maximize efficiency. 3.5 hours, one 2 oz drink every 5 minutes = 84 oz of beer = 7 bottles. I figure 7 bottles of boring beer at a nearby bar would have cost over $40 with tips, so it justified the expense on a purely cost per fluid ounce basis.

So, I'm getting a bit jittery when we elect to pregame at the bar next door, ambling over to what has now become an incredibly long line. After 25 minutes in the queue, we're finally inside around 6:30, throwing off all of my calculations.

Nevertheless, it was time to dust myself off and begin drinking.

The beauty of the glass we received was that the 2 oz line was somewhere in the middle of the vessel. I'd say the average portion we received was 2.5-3 oz.

Since I have been on an IPA kick of late, I would estimate that 75% of what I tasted were IPA's and Pale Ales. Most of my decisions were made by simply figuring out what brewer's line I was standing in, finding them in the guide pamphlet, and picking their pale ale. Not much of a science to it.

Most off-the-shelf standard beers have alcohol contents in the 4.5-6% range.

I do recall many of the beers I tasted had alcohol contents in the double digits.

As expected, small portions of beer add up, especially when many are 11% booze. While my camera on hand was the pocket Sony without the auto-shake protection, I think the out-of-focusness of the shots complemented our inebriated states come 8pm.

Overall, what a cool event! I'd do this again next year in a heartbeat.

Jamaica Plain Pub Crawl

Well, it was certainly a weekend of excess, capped off with an unofficial pub crawl through part of Jamaica Plain on Saturday. Brian and Kelly are soon going to become new parents, and about 8 of us (bros, not....ladies) got together to celebrate one of his final weekends before dirty diapers and middle-of-the-night wakeups.

I had never been on the Samuel Adams Brewery Tour, but that is where we began our adventure. Our guide seemed pleased and mellow during the entire tour. I wonder what's really in those hops?









At the end of the tour, they hoarded us into the tasting room, where we sampled three 7 ounce glasses of draft beer - the mainstay Boston Lager, the Summer Ale, and a third one whose name escapes me (though we were told it is not available on draft anywhere else, and is only sold as part of a sample pack).

As many of the tour attendees were from out-of-town, they recommended that folks could continue their drinking at Doyle's. While that's almost always a good idea, we opted for a different next step - Brendan Behan.

I hadn't been there in quite some time, but Brian reminded me that once before, he, Kelly, Meghan, and I came up with our famous idea for a store that mixes cereal together, and served it in a casual setting. Of our list of names (including "Wheat Make You Breakfast," thanks to Brian himself), we settled on "Cereality."

Too bad that exact concept and exact name had already been operational and franchised. Whoops.

No grandiose ideas this time, simply a few pints of excellent microbrew IPA's - they have about 10-12 really interesting beers on tap that you don't see in many places - and our viewing of the Kentucky Derby. Before the race, someone collected 10 bucks from 20 people, then assigned numbers for horses. One of the guys in our party won, and soon after had an envelope of $200 in front of him. Not a bad investment!

Onward across the street to The Milky Way. It's a shame that this place is closing - it's always busy and has tons of character. The candlepin bowling was pretty busy, and it would have been a long wait for a lane. Good thing, I'm not all that skilled at candlepin. So we stayed for a few pizzas and more beer. By then, our band of merry men had whittled from eight to six.

We walked over to The Alchemist, a restaurant I had been to once before. I think it's such a cool environment inside, with the high ceilings, exposed brick, and casual atmosphere. I'm not sure how many pints we had there, but am guessing I left after the second one.

In all, JP is a great place to drink - a wide variety of beers and friendly environments within stumbling distance of one another. It would be nice if the places in Southie ventured off the tap beer beaten path, and included a number of excellent microbrews.

No hangover whatsoever...thanks to staying within my limits and my friend, Advil.

Virtual drinking

A guy just spoke about SecondLife (I should check this out too...especially after seeing that Dwight Schrute has an avatar on there, but between online poker and SecondLife, I would be fearful of my avoiding in-person human contact altogether, outside of my job).

He has a virtual SecondLife bar in SecondLife Boston that he claims is popular.

I suppose hitting up virtual bars is a good way to stay relatively sober.

Still on the Wagon

Yesterday was Day 22 of my Summer Lent, and I'm still on the wagon.

It's more difficult to avoid soda than it is booze, to be honest. I just never realized how much soda I consumed. Even though most of what I had drunk were diet or sugar-free equivalents of the full liquid candy bars that are main line carbonated beverages, I had a sense that diet sodas weren't the answer to clean living.

The coffee / tea / seltzer / water component is growing a bit old, but at least I know that the liquids I'm putting inside of me were not manufactured by chemistry majors. (Although I did add milk into that equation when I began desiring cereal for breakfast...and lord knows what hormones they give to cows these days)

I am simply amazed at the social role of alcohol in the lives of (relatively) young Bostonians like myself. You meet people for drinks, you have a drink with dinner, you drink on the beach, drink at the game, meet friends for drinks after work - it's everywhere. That's what I miss the most. When "another round" includes your third club soda, that blows.

It's simply no fun being the furthest from drunk among a group of people drinking. And it's definitely not the physical feeling obtained from drinking alcohol as much as the connection with others while drinking.

Now I can (partly) understand how difficult life is for recovering alcoholics - people who have a dependency on the bottle but are able to kick that need must struggle through the social aspects of watching and interacting with friends and family who are drinking.