One of the curses of being a bartender in this fine country of ours is the never ending amount of sport missed due to the anti-social scheduling hours of sports governing bodies (why oh why does no-one else seem to think that at least 1 Premiership football game a week should start at 3am is beyond me). In actual fact unless the Ashes are being played in Australia all that is on when I get home tends to be Bayern Lederhosen vs FC Yodel in the Bygoditsdull League or WWE Smacksomeone the sporting equivalent of Hollyoaks.
However as bartenders we are still expecting to be up on all of the latest news, gossip, results and controversy, how many times a week in the middle of a 12 hour shift do I get asked the score in a game that started an hour after I got behind the stick? To fucking many that’s how!
But like a shining becon of light from a flaming torch my nights have been resportified the last couple of weeks with the joys of Hazel Irvine (is it wrong that I find her a bit… you know?) beaming into my dark cold hovel of a flat. Yes the Winter Olympics has been on and you know what despite my previous misgivings I have thoroughly enjoyed it.
I would love to say that the essence of the Olympic spirit captured my heart or the complexities of curling ignited my sporting brain or indeed the pure thrill of watching complete idiots hurling themselves off a ski-slope to a hopefully massive but not fatal crash brought out my thrill seeking sole but no. I am only slightly ashamed to admit it was the marvellous, individual brilliance of the tight lycra body suit that caught my eye.
More than a series of bottoms
Now don’t think me sexist here as it has become apparent in conversations with the girls at work that the male derriere is equally flattered by the spray on attire – the Olympics truly are a universal occasion! I am now on first name terms with svelte Swedish speed skaters, lithe Latvian lugers, ample American alpine skiers and cardiac causing Canadian cross-countriers.
Before I knew it I was hooked and watching sports without said buttock framing outfits, not just watching but cheering for the women’s curling team and dare I even say the men’s ass in air sports! It appears I am not the only one either with the amount of people talking about Amy Williams win (and magnificent bottom of course) in my bar last week the country seems inspired.
All this got me thinking and the memory cogs in my brain turning – where had I seen an Olympics Cocktail. It didn’t take me long to remember and those of you with a knowledge of the classics will also already be one step ahead of me. None other than the bible of cocktail bartenders worldwide Harry Craddock’s 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book contains a recipe for the Olympic Cocktail. A simple and elegant cocktail (recipe below) for any bar to adopt whilst the Olympics are still in everyones minds (and with a Gold Medal I would imagine that will be until the World Cup starts). Me I put a slight twist on it swapping the Orange juice for Orange bitters, adding a splash of rum and serving it as a blazer with a stick of cinnamon. I considered getting some lycra sleeves made for the glasses as a homage to the games but decided against it.
Thanks to the Olympics, Du Pont (the inventors of lycra), Hazel Irvine and Harry Craddock for making my late nights so much more enjoyable!
Harry Craddock – Savoy Cocktail Book 1930
25ml Orange Juice