On two separate occasions you have wooed me and my posse with food and drink divine. I'm not even going to get into discussing the hominy casserole for fear I'll abandon all responsibility and drive to you to eat it now. But the drinks? I would be happy to tell you about my experiences with those drinks.
Now, Smokey (Do you mind if I call you Smokey? I think it's cute.), some might say your prices are a little steep for a single cocktail ($9, $10 and $12 a pop), but oh, they'd be wrong. I mean, hell, I'm holiday-broke and I made it happen. I shelled out some extra cash dollars to experience the natural, fresh, crazy-good specialties from your colorful drink postcard along with my Scantron barbecue and I can't say bringing my lunch the next day wasn't worth it. It was. It so was.
But anyway, when I got to you the first time, Marla was already enjoying a Texas Strawberry Sweet Tea. It was all well and good with its Firefly and strawberry puree, but, Smokey, it was a little on the too-sweet side. I know, I know! You didn't expect to hear that from girls, right?! We all love shopping and sweet drinks and we'd never go there. But, Marla and I, we're both going there. It's cool. Some other girl with a sweet tooth with love it I'm sure.
Now the Paula's Yellow Rose (Ketel One Citroen, Paula's Lemoncello, St. Germain liqueur, pear puree and simple syrup) was also sweet, but it was kicky too. It wasn't content to put sugar socks on my teeth and just leave them there like the TSST. No, it sweet-talked and then tarted it up a little...like a classy lady is wont to do. Definitely not something to carry to the table, but it can sauce one up quick-like should they be in need of a little liquid courage.
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My dinner mates went on to order the Panhandle Thunder. Although, rumor has it there's snow to be found in the Panhandle as you read this, the drink was more like a refreshing summer libation. I was deterred by the rum and root beer combo, as I don't like root beer (this just sort of happened about two years ago, btw. I used to love it, now I can't stand it.), but I tried a taste of the Boy's and hot damn that thunder was bangin'. Your helpful server told me it was because it was made with the good, clear root beer that's more akin to sarsaparilla than to A&W, so I suppose I understand. That high-dollar soda is the only of it's kind I'll be drinking, Smokes (you don't mind if I call you Smokes, do you? It's a little pet name I just thought up.).
Now, Smokey Smokes (too much? OK.), I brought my momma back to you for her birthday. At that point we had the Santa Rita and holy shit (pardon my French; I assure you I am still a classy broad) that was the best freakin' 'rita I've had since...ever. Tequila, prickly pear cactus puree, lime, Paula's Lemoncello and homemade jalapeno jelly on top!?! You just don't know how much I love jalapeno jelly and for heaven's sake it was on top of my gloriously tart margarita. Mother Eff, that rocked my world. I would've had a second, but well, it was Mom's night and I didn't want my fabulous cocktail to overshadow all the Twilight paraphernalia she was raking in. She does love that Robert Pattinson, but that's a different letter altogether, Smo. One for when we're even closer.
Don't get me wrong, I feel like you understand me. I mean, you totally get this girl drinker. With your Sharpie Ultra Fine Point written drink menu (yeah, I know my office supplies and those are my favorite) and your laminated postcard (let it be known I've wanted a laminating machine since my first school ID was made). You reeled me in there. But the journey we've taken together through purees, jelly and root beer has just been exquisite. I've even put your meat in my mouth...which sounds a lot more sordid than it truly is.
I'm not going to say it's love, Smo. But we got something. Something right tasty.
Girl Drink Drunk