Jan
24
2013

New beginnings

—Christian

My interest in cocktails blossomed my senior year in college. Flush with a little money from a summer job, I dropped probably $600-$700 outfitting my dorm room closet with spirits, modifiers, barware, and glassware of various kinds. And we lived it up for the first couple months of school, while supplies lasted. It was then that I learned how to mix a Manhattan, a proper Martini, and White and Black Russians. I also started to appreciate the nuances of liquor that came from glass bottles with corks vs. plastic ones with removable pour regulators.

Pabst-baby

Prior to that my drinking included the usual high school and college nonsense. I acquired a taste for Old Crow and would go on about how each batch was different and it really varied from bottle to bottle. I loved (and still do) Pabst Blue Ribbon, the hipster champion that actually packs a healthy 5% ABV punch. And I’d occasionally experience cocktails in the company of my ex-bartender parents who appreciated the classics. But it was that dorm closet bar that gave me the first twinges of pride about drink. That made me invest in quality and making sure “it was done right.” And from there a love grew. Read more »


May
10
2012

Derby de Mayo

—Christian

We threw a party on Saturday to celebrate the rare congruence of Cinco de Mayo and Derby Day. To ensure we were properly lubricated, the Enthusiasts supplied Margaritas and Mint Juleps. And, with the help of Cashmere Agency we able to secure a sponsorship from none other than the legendary Pabst Blue Ribbon! (For those of you who know me, this is a momentous accomplishment, to be sure).


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Jul
20
2010

drinkwel field testing: Josey

—Josey

The never-ending party is the most effective way to ensure no hangover. But once in a while it’s Sunday night and you realize you’re supposed to stagger through the doors of your workplace in mere morning hours, and that you should probably start sobering up. With visions of pounding temples and queasy bellies in our fuzzy brains we futilely chug glass after glass of water, swig Gatorade, and shakily nuke frozen pepperoni pies, praying for salvation in the form of grease, carbs, and electrolytes. Short of a pre-work Bloody Mary that could result in (depending on your job) certain termination should supervisors get wise, what’s a desperate drunk to do?

Mama’s greasy medicine.

Enthusiast HQ learned of drinkwel, a new and supposedly-hangover relieving multivitamin supplement from an UrbanDaddy email. We wrote the company in search of swag, and luckily, our plea resulted in free samples. Was I skeptical? Of course. The placebo effect is powerful. I needed a field test—and, another fantastic excuse to get insanely wasted for 48 hours.
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Jun
07
2010

Drunk of the Day

Let’s travel back a couple years, and to a place its locals occasionally refer to as “San Diego.”

It was somebody who may or may not also write for this blog’s birthday, and he may or may not have been turning a year that was one shy of a quarter century. What better way to celebrate, he might have mulled, than crashing for a weekend at a friend’s home in California’s most stereotypically sun-filled of cities? A perfect venue for copious daytime-beach into nighttime-bar-hop booze binging.

The birthday eve began as many had before, with a promise among several present to ingest a certain number of drinks that equaled the years that this possible-future blogger was aging towards. Sharpies were located and stuffed in jean pockets, for keeping semi-permanent tally.

Twenty-four increasingly wavy, lengthy, and/or jagged lines snaked around the forearms of the participants’ arms before the clock ticked past three hours prior to West Coast last call. And the night, she was young yet.
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