Coping Mechanisms (Otherwise Known as Misdirection)

If Himself is the cook, perhaps I should be the bartender in the family.

So. Ever since watching and reading Julie and Julia (which, I might add, was what prompted this nonsensical bit of meaning-of-wife identity crisis), I have been rather obsessed with Julie Powell's lifestyle, prior to "hitting it big". (And yes, I am TOTALLY aware that her life was sucky before she became fab and famous. But hey, at least she could cook. It's more than I can say.) Anyway...rather than being psycho (AKA Gemini about it) I decided that, rather than fixating upon this poor wench and stalking her (although I admit to reading her blog--avidly), I'd simply try to follow her example.

Namely, through gimlets.

Gin gimlets, to be exact. None of this vodka nonsense--I am a gin girl, through and through. (Must be the anglophile in me). If I can't cook a decent meal, well, at least I can mix a mean drink, right?

So, last night, Himself and I found ourselves with an unexpected night in--no errands, no programs to work, no friends to entertain. After taking a constitutional (okay, there's no way to say, blog, or write that without sounding like a pretentious, wanna-be poofster) in the evening, in which the desert winds picked up and rustled through the palm beards, we came back home and plunked ourselves down and proceeded to debate what we would do with the evening.

The verdict? Pizza, from the Valley's only (any desert readers here? speak up if you beg to differ) New York pizza place, and...gimlets. And I have to say, I did a damned good job with them. And with Himself passed out on the bed...well, the proof is in the pudding. Or at the bottom of the martini glass, as the case may be.

Gin Gimlet Recipe

2 oz. Gin
1/2 oz. Lime Juice

Combine in a shaker with ice.
Shake like mad and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Serve with a lime squeeze.

The drink was a success! Actually perfect--except for the fact that, to me, it doesn't yield quite enough for one drink. I could be doing something wrong, of course. I'll have to experiment with a couple of other recipes, perhaps. I also didn't use a lime squeeze--an omission I intend to remedy tonight! Before I even served the first round, I had wised up and put a couple of martini glasses in the freezer for the second round. They taste MUCH better with chilled glasses.

The drink was, in fact, so good that Himself actually flopped down on the living room floor with me and watched a goodly chunk of the new BBC production of Sense and Sensibility. He was pretending to read his Kindle, but WE know the truth.

So...at least if I suck as a housewife, I have at least one drink in my arsenal to employ the solution to this: Get Himself so drunk he doesn't care!