The Girl who Loved Sangria too Much
By Janey Pancake
I make really, really strong drinks. Though I am a lightweight now, years and years of working in various watering holes around town have fostered within me a preternatural tolerance for spirits. To wit, when I first moved to Arizona to attend graduate school, I threw a party for my fellow MFA candidates during which I served a favorite cocktail of mine (anejo rum, lime juice and ginger ale – delicious). The drink was deemed too strong for consumption by nearly all my guests, as was evident the next day when I was left to clean up countless glasses of unfinished cocktails.
I share this with you to preface the following tale of excess and debauchery. Last Sunday my spouse and I decided to enjoy the summer weather by throwing a small cookout with the original Frothy Girl, her husband and children, plus two other, dear friends. One attendee in particular (we will call her Cookie) requested that I make a pitcher of my sangria – which I did.
No one can be certain how much of the sangria Cookie consumed as she wasn’t the only one imbibing the Purple, but there were tell-tale signs throughout the evening that indicated it was a veritable shit-ton. Cookie has an effervescent personality and is often the life of the party – regardless of booze, of which she usually drinks very little. She is wonderful with children, and they adore her in return – it was her transformative behavior around them what betrayed her level of intoxication. At the end of the evening, the three girls swarmed around her for attention and Cookie treated us all with a story from her past . The story itself was magnificent, a Hallmark-ian yarn about tender youth, music and the inherent value of self-discovery. There is no way that I can retell her tale and do it true justice – but let us just say that it was peppered with adult language (including, but not limited to enthusiastic F-bombs) and involved a Rainbow Festival, the exchange of Snickers candy bars for necessities like oatmeal and psilocybin mushrooms, off-beat tambourine playing and ultimately, the rejection of the neo-hippie community whose acceptance she was so eager to earn. The moral? Hippies will trade drugs and oatmeal for sugary treats. And also – be yourself.
You can enjoy the transmogrifying powers of my Sangria for yourselves:
Mix together in this order
-1/3 cup sugar
-the juice from two oranges, one lemon
-one cup of light rum or dry vermouth or a mixture of both
-a splash or five of Cointreau
-approximately one bottle of dry red wine (Shiraz works well)
-add slices of lime and lemon (about two of each). You can add other fruits if you like, but non citrus types tend to absorb all of the alkeehol – which can promote sober story-telling and no one wants that.
-pour over ice, serve and call yourself a cab!
In summary, the story telling portion of the evening went exactly like this: