Sunday, October 28, 2007

Word of the Day: Kir

A very short while ago, I had the occasion to play the word KIR during a Scrabulous event (as I call them these days). I dredged the thing out of my murkiest past, that foggy period of my youth which spawned knowledge of absinthe and other peculiar tinctures. All of them were as the balm of Gilead to me on occasion, but I no longer need them, having found the true faith (which can be found here and in the list of posts here).

Nevertheless, kir bubbled to the surface of my mind when I needed it. What is kir? It is a lovely aperitif which is best characterised as a half-and-half of crème de cassis (blackcurrant liqueur) and white wine. The trick is to choose the right white to go with the heavy but ethereally fragrant blackcurrant aroma. I have tasted the horrible fruit of the union between a Canadian ice wine of perfect pedigree and an equally useful crème de cassis – as it the case in some miscegenation between otherwise-beautiful parents, the offspring was a disaster.

And never, never, never ever confuse kir with kirsch. I have some fondness for the latter, but it is a cherry liqueur and tastes utterly different. It would be a terrible shock to expect one and be given the other...

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Sunday, March 18, 2007

Boyz

Some boys never change. They still get drunk, make jokes about who can't take his liquor, say naughty things about the ladies that they would never do while sober and in public. It is the dark side of childhood, and sometimes, for those who feel the gnawing spiritous need, it carries over into adulthood.

And some do. They grow up and try very hard to be gentlemen. Not that it always works, and sometimes the trying is painful to see. This too is a grievous misfortune.

Many tread the fine line in between. They get drunk and regret it; they are gentlemen without a cause; or they are not sure what they are, except that the old days were better than these.

Most will rationalise everything away. One thing outweighs another, one crime is small when buried beneath the rest of humanity's load. And who is to judge in the end? Certainly, not I.

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