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Sunday, July 15, 2007
Normally I stick with Scotch and wine when flying. It's usually pretty hard to screw up either (this being a notable exception) and drinking beer means getting up more than I prefer to.
However, on today's Philippines Airlines flight from Manila to Shanghai, I elected to deviate from the norm. The menu advertising "extra dry Martini" sounded very tempting. And I've been getting some guff from JB lately about my traditional drinking habits. He takes more of a Protestant approach, hoping from one new drink to the next, never realizing that the one true booze--most fully and rightly ordered through time--has been right in front of him the whole time. So I asked for an "extra dry Martini." What arrived was not pleasing to the eye. A wine glass filled with a visibly diluted mixture and three huge ice cubes. I probably should have sent it back immediately, but felt obliged to at least give it a taste. A watery, sour flavor with just the slightest hint of ginny goodness filled my mouth. I swallowed hard and grimaced. What this foul concoction was I did not know. A Martini--no less an "extra dry Martini"--it most clearly was not. I exchanged my "Martini" for a glass of red wine--not great but drinkable--at the soonest available opportunity. Lesson learned. Again. Labels: Cocktails
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