When I was about 5 or so, my father sat me down and delivered some very bad news. "Blondie," he said, "you can never drink gin. It's not in our genes. If you drink gin, you will get belligerently drunk with a tendency towards violence." So I was scared off gin for a good 20 years. Then one day, I thought "Maybe daddy was wrong."
That day happened to be last week at the Canada festival. Canadians wouldn't steer me the wrong way, would they? They only had a select few mixers, and I chose the pomegranate juice. Three gin and pomegranates in, and I still wasn't really feeling buzzed. The bartender was being generous and I wasn't eating enough to soak up the booze, so the problem was with me.
Then a second opportunity arose this very weekend, where I could drink gin to my little black heart's content. So maybe it was a wedding, but my friends were around and they would stop me if I became belligerent, and gladly stick me in a car and lock the doors if I dared become violent. Perfect time to experiment. I chose gin and tonic. A classic drink. One, three, five gin and tonics in. Nothing. I switched to vodka. I then woke up this morning with a wicked hangover. And that my dears, ends my relationship with gin.
Suvir Saran’s San Francisco Restaurant Opens This Fall
40 minutes ago