Signature cocktails

If I had my druthers, I would probably drink strawberry daiquiris all the time. But I don’t. Sure, they’re delicious. But the strawberry daiquiri is a youthful drink, the drink of a girl on spring break in Cabo. Much like skinny jeans and Flashdance tops, I can’t pull it off anymore. These days, I am compelled by circumstances to act my age and order a nice Bordeaux and pretend I know what I’m talking about. If I had to guess, I’d say that many of us aren’t drinking what we’d truly like to drink. A friend of mine frequently orders Pimms to remind people of her stints abroad, though I suspect she longs for vodka tonic.

Really? I think life is a little short for this sort of messing about. I know a darling boy who drinks mojitos all year round unapologetically. Another who made up a delicious summer cocktail including vodka, pineapple juice and a splash of soda, and spent the months between May and September teaching it to all his local bartenders.

Bring me my dirty Sapphire martini, please, extra olives, (stuffed with blue cheese if possible). It takes the edge off the day with the efficiency of a spin class, and it's what I really want.

NYT: Proof