03 February 2014 09:30

Cocktail parties, it’s no longer about the dress

I come from a wine background. And by 'wine background' I am no way suggesting I know anything about wine other than my parents drank it, so I started drinking it. Had my dad started flaring with Cuervo bottles all over the kitchen, I probably would have done the same. Alas, he spent the better part of my teenage years trying to teach me about aromas, textures, ageing and general appreciation of the fermented grape juice. I spent the better part of my teenage years knocking back whatever wine I could get my hands on.

So I was relatively curious when my friend hosted a cocktail party. I assumed a cocktail party was a normal drinks party except I would wear a cocktail dress while knocking back whatever wine I could get my hands on.


Arriving in aforementioned black cocktail number with wine in hand, I was mystified and confused to see various bottles of mixers, booze and fruit juice on the table. Not a chenin blanc in sight. My bottle of wine was swiftly whipped out of my hand and replaced by a glass which held less liquid than a contact lens case.

'What am I supposed to do with this?' was, I thought, a reasonable question. 'Drink it. It's a Cosmopolitan.' Was the answer I was given.

I tentatively pursed my lips, placed them on the glass and swallowed.

'Done. Now can I have some wine?'

I was not allowed wine but I was allowed to work my way through Daiquiris, Mojitos, Margaritas and Long Island Iced Teas. Sugar high aside, I was completely overexcited about the different drinks available. I managed to convince myself that because fruit juice was an ingredient, it was healthy. I was mesmerised by the fact that drinks came in jugs. JUGS! I also learned the hard way that jugs of booze are to be shared. It was quickly becoming a funfest of educational experience and I was well on my way to becoming a cocktail expert.

I vaguely remember my involuntary action of swirling my glass come into play. Of course, I wasn't holding a wine glass, I was holding an incredibly shallow martini glass and managed to swirl the liquid all over the poor unsuspecting person next to me. An hour later, I was putting cocktail umbrellas in people's hair and was trying to build the worlds longest straw to stick into people's drinks while they weren't looking. I was also threatened with death if I said 'Shaken, not stirred' one more time.

As the first of many cocktail parties, I'm going to say it was alcohol and taste-infused success. Whether I'm invited to the next one is under debate.


Article by Baglett



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