Last night, I stopped into Pegu hoping for a Ramos Gin Fizz. At first, the bartender was too busy to mix something so complex and off-menu so I started off with a Shirley Temple.
It wasn't my usual. Years of Shirley Temples has inured me to the ol’ ginger ale-and-grenadine mixture. Throughout my childhood, the Shirley Temple was my Drink of Choice. I drank it at Schraffts, at Rumpelmeyers, at Gino’s, and at every place in between. Even after somebody told me that Maraschino cherries are made with formaldehyde, I drank Shirley Temples. Sometimes I ate the cherry with relish, as in, Ha ha, I’m alive and eating death. Written down this doesn’t look so good, I realize.
Nonetheless.
This being Pegu, the Shirley Temple is made with homemade ginger ale (made using a food processor and a chinois) and homemade pomegranate syrup (since that's what grenadine is). It comes garnished with a disk of lime and a piece of candied ginger.
I wanted to love it. I wanted to be able to say to myself: Now I’m drinking a Shirley Temple for grownups! (Know the Carly Simon song that defines grownup?) And I was––I was drinking just that. It was tangy and pungent; the thing is, it wasn't a Shirley Temple any more. I missed the sickly sweet taste that was so comforting to me.
I didn’ love it. I didn't even like it.
Moved on to the Ramos Gin Fizz , which the bartender shook well and then sprinkled with cardamom syrup. No idea what kind of gin but I didn’t really care; I like gin and figured even the house gin at Pegu couldn’t be deeply inferior. As I sipped, I noticed I that chalky feeling on the tongue, which I like so much, and, I don’t know, there’s always something appealing about the egg white topping. Anything with orange water has got to be good, no?
The bartender was very into his craft; he was the best part of the place, which overall is just a lit-tle too noisy for my taste in cocktail bars.
posted by Elizabeth Manus @ 12:55 AM
1 comments
