NY Barfly

360 Vodka - 360 Ways to Save the Planet (though we prefer way #43: drinking it).

Going green is hard, ladies and gentlemen. We want to be genteel - but this idea of environmental mindfulness has such crass connotations in our world. Martinis may cost $3.50 a gallon - but we still pay. How else are we supposed to feel American?

This past Earth Day, we were trying to muster up the courage to finally give this green business a go. We wanted to help, to make a difference, but most importantly we wanted to be in the "cool kids" crowd. Even though we are currently ourselves a svelte-citizen, we still feel the urge to rush over and join these folks when they do something especially exciting (i.e. buy pogs, save the planet).

We got to the park and were appalled. The cool kids were planting trees. We could even breathe more clearly when we gasped in horror. If we wanted dirt under our fingernails, we would have been breaking ginger into pieces by hand. If anything could save this sorry planet, it is surely our naturally infused Sake-tini.

We were just about to stomp off when we remembered something very touching from An Inconvenient Truth: our portable bar. It just so happened that we were carrying just the thing to make Roly-poly Gore proud: 360 Vodka.

The first green vodka? Not only does it save the planet, it makes planting trees fun! When you dig two small holes and give up because you want another sip, you needn’t worry. They've taken everything into account. It’s made from 100% local Kansas grains, bottled in a stylish container that contains 85% recycled glass, and packed and shipped in eco-friendly containers.

Most importantly, the empty bottle doubles as a buoy for a polar bear in search of the next fleeting glacier (though, we fear it still won’t help Finlandia recover).

And the taste? As clean as the fresh, carbon-free air. To attain this level of air-quality, we had to encourage the cool kids to get to their planted tree quota. Believe us, they had to move to get their next martini.

But, when they were done with a forest of saplings, we were ready with a canopy of 360 cocktails waiting for them. There may have been ginger sap under our fingers for days, but we were proud to do our part. It’s a dangerous time for this planet, and 360 vodka is only the first, albeit glorious, step.

No Vodka Plans this Weekend? Why not a jaunt to Cape North?

It’s always tiresome for the glamorous to figure out a suitably delicious vacation spot. The Caribbean? We don’t care to experience hurricanes that aren’t awash with Barcardi. The continent? The dollar is so weak right now that it makes a simple night in Paris close to unaffordable. Of course, simple involves two Moulin Rouge prostitutes, a case of Burgundy, a flamenco show, and a friendly donkey – not necessarily in that order.

We know! How about The Cape? Sounds vaguely sophisticated. The perfect combination of old money exclusivity with new money pizzazz (i.e. using bio-diesel powered sand buggies to destroy the plover’s habitat).

Nantucket’s out. We went there last summer and due to what the court papers refer to as “the incident” we were subsequently banned for 4.6 years (despite the scandal, we did confirm that – yes - they are real cobble stones). Cape of Good Hope? Nah – we’re not buying that Obamania nonsense.

We decided that Cape Hatteras would have to do – at least we would finally get to apply a skill acquired in college (major: horse whispering). At the moment we were to depart – the alcohol gods intervened. And what did they say? “Barfly – why are you going to North Carolina? There is a Cape you can enjoy right here in your glorious city: Cape North Vodka. And don’t lie to your readers – you majored in show-pony whispering. ”

As always – the alcohol gods were right (you can at least pretend to be wrong sometimes, just because you’re omniscient doesn’t mean you have to be a smarty-pants). We didn’t need to hijack the Hampton jitney and have them drive us 12 hours into the south. We just had to head over to Marquee or Cipriani for a Cape North - straight up, with olives. Now that’s what we call a vacation.

Barfly is surprised that such a fine spirit would have flown under our radar for so long (as we have a map of the world with little pins in all of the Capes, not to mention fjords). Cape North is new to the American sophisticated-lush market. We were heartened to learn that it came from the magical land of fine alcohols: Europe.

Even better, it’s made with grains from France and ice-cold Nordic spring water from Sweden. This international supply chain is likely what gives Cape North its smooth thrill - can you imagine something sexier than a 6’3” pale-skinned blonde carrying around a baguette as they mouth “oui-oui” (if you can, please send it to us!).

So, this weekend, we can gladly say that we’re off to the cape! We plan on doing loads of site-seeing. On Friday, we think we’ll mix it with some vermouth. On Saturday, we hear that dill infused martini is supposed to be pretty exciting. And Sunday? Well, we’ll probably just keep it simple. Cape North, on the rocks. Travel exhausts us.

Cointreau Caviar - Like Little Fish Eggs for Your Drink!

Last time we reached a delectable cocktail (namely .4 seconds ago) we felt that something was missing. What could it be? The glass was perfectly chilled. Filled to the brim. As we sipped, we had a feeling that the absent element could only be something shapely. A saucy obelisk? Some sort of delicious parallelogram?

Aha! Inspired by our own worldliness, we realized that the three-dimensional element that we so longed for was SPHERES!

As usually, Remy Cointreau rushed in to the rescue (just as he does when we start to have those feelings things and need some, well, let’s just call it “therapy”). The global spirits company recently decided that scooping heaps of actual caviar into drinks was too “nouveau riche”. How could they have the class without worrying about the illegal (albeit sexy) caviar smuggling operations in the former USSR? Thankfully, they came up with a solution that is fish free. And then, they did what they do best: packed it with alcohol.

Termed Cointreau Caviar, these libation filled balls can be dropped directly into your favorite cocktail. Think of them as the nails and screws that make an Irish car bomb that much more deadly. After spending a year perfecting the process, the edible balls (insert your own joke here, if you must) are making their way to the bars of Manhattan.

The company is slowly rolling out the product to high end bars and restaurants. There is a fear that terrorist cells could get their hands on the technology and savage the populous with retrofitted Jihad Caviar. The thinking is that this would be scooped into green tea and other non-alcoholic beverages - so as not to violate the Koran.

We asked the chairman of Remy Cointreau about the threat and received this response: “Terrorists? Using our spheres to attack? That doesn’t even make any sense. How many of those balls did you eat anyway?”

Well, we stopped counting after the third fistful. But, we are happy to announce that our cocktail is now full of the Cointreau Caviar, and our shape based desires are contented. You’ve done it again Remy. And, we can’t wait to sample the new product that we hear is on the way: Jell-o-shot pâté is sure to top even this!

Zen Green Tea Liquor

We love when new liquor is released, especially when the novel brand thwarts an entire category of namby-pamby caffeine drinkers. No more excuses, you jolted up java fiends.

First, Starbucks released its alcoholic coffee drink. Despite the chain’s dominance, some of you still weren’t convinced. Upon being offered a beverage, you refused to say the obvious “A beverage? Indeed, I’d like a strong martini.” You even avoided the somewhat reasonable “Uh, I’ll have one of those Starbucks-coffee-alcohol thingies, Venti.”

What did you ask for? We shudder before repeating it: “A tea please, preferably green.” Truly, you break our heart into even smaller grizzled pieces.

Well, Barfly is pleased to announce that your belligerent avoidance of alcohol has gone the way of punch (currently known as Rum Punch, as we slyly put Rum in it when no one was looking). Zen Green Tee Liquor, produced by Suntory, effectively eliminates the last non-alcoholic beverage choice known to man. We can rejoice to our pagan-gods that it happened on time. Green Tea’s reassurance has been making thousands of people feel “peaceful” and “at one with themselves”.

We say thank you Suntory for putting an end to that nonsense. The only folks that people should feel “at one with” is Barfly. And, perhaps Captain Morgan if you’re feeling piratey (we know – the urge gets to the best of us every now and then – we’re not jealous).

Come to mention it, now that caffeine has been co-opted by the Japanese, Barfly feels at peace with the world and the spirit of our ancestors. Good thing – because that Zen Sand Garden in the corner of our apartment has not been tended for a while. We think we’ll drink some more Green stuff, and finally be up for setting it back into balance.

Uh, do you think if we give them a few sips of Zen, the family of feral cats will leave peacefully?

The Lime Bomber

The scourges of New York nightlife are slowly falling away. Second hand smoke caused your cute little tumor? Well, we now have a smoking ban that keeps our lungs shiny and cancer free. Crackhead steals your wallet on the way home? Not any more – Mr. Crackhead had turned into Mr. Meth-head. He’s far to busy having unprotected sex with his internet friends to rob little ol’ you.

And now, an invention comes along that will eradicate the most dangerous plague that lurks beyond the safety of your overpriced apartment.

We all know what goes on in the employee bathrooms of New York establishments. The staff sees the little sign that beseeches them to wash their hands and they cackle with laughter. “Hahaha,” they say. “That sign should read Patrons Must Ingest Germs from My Soiled Hands Because I’m not Fucking Washing Them.” Barfly feels sorry to see such angry pretend signs and the servers that laugh at them – we hope they become happier once their acting career gets going (4 years without a role is a long time, we’d be a tad angry ourselves).

The Lime Bomber gets around the problem of a grubby handed bartender. Isn’t the only true desire of a serious patron to enjoy that lime spiked beer without having to worry about the monkeypox, syphilis, or career frustration that the bartender may have rubbed into the bottle? It also avoids the awkward situation that arises when you order a corona with lime and the bartender sheepishly informs “Uh, I can give you the beer, but can you put the lime in yourself. This leprosy has left me with a stump and a nub where my thumb used to be.” Thank god you didn’t ask about that picture of Mother Theresa taped to the register – you would have been SO embarrassed.

Barfly is sold, ladies and gentlemen. We plan on bombing limes into the wee hours of the morning. There is such an aura of cleanliness that we’ve already forgot that we are ingesting beer from Mexico. And, as a true patriot, we have to ask: what other bar tool combines two of America’s favorite pastimes into one ice cold beer? For $10.99 you can get bombed and bomb shit all at once. The swizzle and the jigger have a lot of work to do if they are going to catch up (come on guys, Barfly believes in ya!).

The Case of the Secret Sambuca Sipper (that jackass)

There are many illustrious mysteries to be found when New York bar-going. We’re still trying to figure out what happened to our pants the other evening. Perhaps it had something to do with those dead chinchilla’s at the foot of our bed when we awoke? They had a strange look about them - like they might have killed themselves gorging on succulent pant.

Perhaps the most intriguing mystery of all sits on crystal clear display behind the bar. Who are the guilty parties that drink Sambuca – the alluring but deadly Italian aperitif that goes untouched in all of the most upscale New York haunts? These nefarious folk cause the bottle to be left on the bar, leaving less space for the virtuous drink that a good Samaritan Barfly yearns for: anything but Sambuca. We’re not in Villa-de-loser-ass-drinks, for Christ’s sake.

Barfly decided that an investigation was in order. We interviewed a few bartenders throughout town to get the skinny on this salacious substance. Likely suspects came to light. Help us solve this mystery, gentle reader. The peace in this crazy town depends on us. Could the last person who took a sip be -

The confused new drinker – Understandable. They want to appear sophisticated in front of their friends and order a “Manhattan" or a “merlot’ without really knowing what their poison is. A Sambuca lands into their hands, they taste it, pledge to never drink again, and become a Jehovah ’s Witness. “One sip, that taste, I just knew: the end of days is nigh”.

The European tourists who think that this is what we do in the States– He has a moustache like a ‘70’s porn star and she is carrying a stylish Fendi knockoff while wearing a babushka. We have to stop them before they think that all of their customs translate across the Atlantic. Next thing we know their third cousin Olaf will be ambling up to the bar with his gypsy caravan and ordering a double. Yes Olaf, you have to keep your chickens cooped (preferably outdoors).

The fish looking creature in the corner – After asking around, we were able to get his name from some floozy that had tried to offer hygiene” tips (apparently he wasn’t biting). Herring. Red Herring. We think it’s him!

The Westchester couple in town for dinner to celebrate their 15^th anniversary – Taken with chocolate mousse after a silent antipasto and entrée, it’s the only thing on the menu that can drown out the taste of their failed marriage. Angelo’s got a girl on the side, he’ll be ok. It’s Paula we feel for. She really loves him.

So kids, next time you make your way out on the town, grab your magnifying glass and look for clues. Our culprits must be stopped before they commit their next misdeed. When we catch them (as we are sure to with our deft detective skills) we’ll apprehend them with our greatest weapon: mockery for drinking yucky juice.

P/S – If anyone’s got a lead on those ravenous rodents, we’d love to be reimbursed for our pants.

Communicate with the Spirits: Ready to Tanqueray? Well, perhaps after we get globe probed.

Tony Sinclair, the British version of the immensely popular "7-Up Guy" has been everywhere talking about what the brits do best: getting snickered on gin.

Convinced that the dotty Americans were about to revolt tea-party style and heave cases of their standard product overboard in favor of revolutionized energy drinks, Tanqueray has rolled out their new rangpur flavored gin. Infused with a cut of lime and slightly less alcoholic than standard Tanqueray, the Brits decided on a remarkably different rebellion quashing strategy than dear old King George: douse the flavor of actual gin in lime juice and get a black guy with a snarky British accent to keep us in our place.

American's have never developed a true love of gin, much to Tanqueray's dismay. Age old rumors still taint the liquor's stateside reputation. "We've reiterated time and time again, the British stiff upper lip is not a sigh of excessive juniper consumption," a Tanqueray representative informed. There was no discernable movement of his upper lip as he issued the statement.

It's still too early to tell how sophisticated Americans will react to the new flavor of this "rangpur". Barfly recently interviewed a traditional American bar-goer to see what they thought. "Gin, dude, isn't that what like, old ladies drink when they knit?"

His revolutionary compatriot agreed to this common sense. "Bro!," he exclaimed as he issued a high-five.

When asked to respond, Tanqueray's rep scoffed. "High-fiving? We shall do nothing of the sort." He issued a disdainful scowl, using only his bottom lip.

The rangpur itself is apparently a special "hybrid" fruit of the future: a cross between a lemon and mandarin orange. We decided to ask our favorite futuristic marketing campaign character, SVEDKA_grl, how she thought this mixing of genes would sit with today's American audience. "None of this matters, you fools! You can drink all the gin you want, it won't change the fact that you'll soon be bowing before me, your queen!"

Drink all the gin we want? Barfly is certainly sold! Rangpur for all! Uh, why isn't our lip moving?

Nuvo: L'Esperit de Ding Dong

Female drinkers have a helpful new way to tell if that thing in their blind date’s teeth is from their morning bagel or their secret evening butt munching. Adding to the “sound the homo alarm” cocktails currently being poured (AIDS, oops, we mean Apple-tini), Raphael Yakoby has come up with Nuvo, a drink geared toward the discerning female bargoer.

In making a woman’s drink, Yakoby used focus groups to tap into their innermost needs: “Group after group of woman talked about loads of things they wanted to see in a drink. Regardless of age, regardless of income, they all ended up coming back to the same two topics: cranberry juice and cock.”

Yakoby had recent success hypnotizing the African American market with his Hpnotiq liqueur. “It was a huge success – the patrons were happy because they got to drink incredible hulks; the bartenders were thrilled because they got to stop making strawberry daiquiris.”

When Barfly pointed out that some may be “intimidated” by the bottle's shape and girth, Yakoby disagreed. “No, that’s the point – they have a few sips of the drink, and that shit just slides right in.”

Nuvo retails for $32.99 for a 375 ml bottle and $43.99 for the more upscale vibrating 400 ml.

Communicate with the Spirits: Slather on the Svedka and Party Like its 2033!

Inspired by the success of Radio head’s use of Brent Spiner to promote their OK Computer album, Svedka vodka has turned to the world’s first spokesbot – SVEDKA_grl - to market their growing line of imported vodka. Barfly_sez_e-ok!

The Swede’s choice of a robot came after they scoured the country American-Idol style for a native inhabitant that could pitch the product to the U.S. Market. Realizing that the most charismatic people in the entire country were either ABBA members or those chicks from Ace of Base, the Swedes did what any rational nation would do: came up with a fake robot to sell their vodka.

According to the company’s website their strategy worked: Svedka is the fastest growing Vodka in the United States. “We feel that we’ve tapped into an urge shared by many U.S. residents” a spokesperson for the company said. “To better deny the fact that they are sexually attracted to a robot, Americans must drink more vodka.”

Barfly was walking the streets the other day and SVEDKA_grl winked at us from the side of a bus. Going with their futuristic theme, the ad claimed that Svedka was voted the best vodka of 2033. We got our crystal martini glass and peered into the progression of drinking in the future.

2009 - Finland's glaicers have melted due to global warming. Finlandia's vodka infused with drowned polar bear fails to take off. There is an opening for another Scandinavian nation to dominate the drinking world.

2015 – Drunk hover-boarding becomes a ticket-worthy offense. 

2022 – Svedka becomes even more popular when the tasty Soylent Green-tini is created. Sip, have some fun with the furniture, and don’t dare ask what’s in it!

2029 – Skynet has one too many and fights the humans. Much wackiness ensues.

2033 – Thirsty Terminators and the few surviving human-slaves vote Svedka to be number one. They have to. SVEDKA_grl is their luxurious and un-merciful queen.

Communicate with the Spirits: Finlandia

He may have invented that wacky “internet” thing, but crazy-like-a-fox Al Gore should have named his recent documentary “An Inconvenient Proof”.

Barfly has leaned that this global warming business has nothing to do with carbon emissions (we will not reveal our trusted sources).

Once we received this tip we wanted to get to the bottom of the martini glass on this issue. Barfly enjoys doing freelance reconnaissance work – we stare at bottles of alcohol until they tell us something. While reconning the other night Barfly intercepted a rogue message from commie Stoli to patriot Skyy.

It turns out that Global warming is an international conspiracy of the most devious sort: vodka. The great nations of Drunkworld were already growing weary of Finland’s export monopoly on claymation reindeers and words with an abundance of consonants. The Finn's entry into the vodka market was the latest escalation (or, kiihtyä, as they would put it).

How better to hinder the Finns than to ratchet up the thermostat and attack their mid level vodka at its source. Finlandia is made from “pure glacial spring water and the finest six row barley.” Lacking the technology to teleport even mediocre barley to outer space, the powers of the world decided to start melting glaciers and call it a day.

To protect their economic status, Finland better come up with a new national spirit. They can even use the conspiracy to their benefit. Barfly thinks that there is room in the market for a grain alcohol infused with the luscious flavor of drowned polar bear.