If there’s a Moscow Mule on the menu, I order it. Every time.
I didn’t know that’s what it was the first time I was introduced to them. It wasn’t mine; I didn’t drink it. I don’t think I was even 21. Tyson and I were out with one of his friends, a grad student a few years older than us.
“This is my favorite drink,” Ramon told us before continuing, with his signature chuckle, “They only serve it in a copper mug if you know to ask for it! They’ve had too many stolen but if I ask for one, they give it to me.” (College towns, amiright? *facepalm*)
I completely forgot about that night until several years later when Tyson and I were out to dinner. I spied the description of a drink on the menu that included ginger beer, limes, and vodka, which happen to be some of my favorite things. And then I read that it was served in a copper mug which jogged my memory and cemented my need to order the drink Ramon had raved about. It was love at first sip.
Margaritas and I have a longer, more specific history. My group of interior design friends claimed the Mexican chain in our college town that served up halfway decent Tex-Mex and (more importantly) large margaritas as our own. Carlos O’Kelly’s, that strange Spanish-Irish combo of a name, became a staple of our time there. It began as a reward after we completed a huge project, after enduring several all-nighters topped off with scathing design critiques of everything we’d just poured our blood, sweat, and tears into. But it didn’t take long before margaritas became a weekly event. We could usually be found in a booth on Thursdays right after class, an early dinner that was more liquid than solid because we didn’t have class on Fridays.
Pomegranate was my go-to flavor. Laura and Tiffany ordered strawberry. Jenni was classier than the rest of us and ordered hers on the rocks. Chad ordered whatever he felt like that day. The five of us huddled in a booth and ate baskets and baskets of the free chips and bowls upon bowls of salsa as we drank our way through the early evening.
It was our thing. So much so that this group of friends gifted us a complete margarita set for our wedding: a bottle each of Patron and Triple Sec, margarita glasses and a special contraption to salt the rims, Kosher salt and a single lime, which I found a couple of weeks later while unpacking after our honeymoon, gone to mold and mush amongst boxes of new plates and sets of towels.
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I’m not a person who makes cocktails. Tyson doesn’t drink, so usually, it’s just me. I don’t have a well-stocked bar cart or much of a liquor cabinet. I don’t own a cocktail shaker. If it requires me to mix together eight different ingredients, boil some lavender simple syrup, or garnish with basically anything, it’s not happening in my house.
Don’t get me wrong: I love all of those things. I can’t wait to go out and sip a fancy cocktail again. I want to drink something garnished with fresh herbs, mixed with bitters, and with a bottle of liquor that’s been purchased specifically for that drink and that drink alone.
At home, though, it’s enough to get dinner on the table in the evening. Need I bother to say this is true now more than ever? Need I bother to say we all might need something fun to sip now more than ever? I don’t have time to putz. Without much else to excite us lately, I’ve been looking forward to cocktail hour. While it’s not like that booth at Carlos O’Kelly’s some twelve years ago now, a simple margarita reminds me of that time. These drinks remind me of the gift of simplicity. And they remind me to look forward to the day I’ll be mixing up entire pitchers of cocktails again.
I read this article just yesterday, when this post was all but finished.
“Things have changed. Some of these things are obvious and collective — pandemic, mass unemployment, a reckoning with racial injustice. Others are more personal. But the crux of it is this: Like many of you, I am exhausted. Fussiness in any form, especially about drinking, feels antithetical to this moment in life. This is not to say that drinks cannot be “political”…But at the moment, I’m not looking for an education on the trivia and minutiae of booze every time I pop open a bottle. I just need a drink.”
This feels right. It’s everything I’ve been feeling lately. Life is enough right now. Let’s keep simple what we can. Pop open a bottle. Enjoy the sunshine, the blue sky, the sweat beading on your forehead, the breeze on the patio. And just have a drink.
(A note that a Google search for these cocktails will yield approximately 4.79 bajillion results. Recipes out there are going to be similar to mine, if not identical. Just a note to say that this is what mine have evolved to over the past several years and the variations are seemingly infinite.)
Simple Margarita
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My margarita has evolved to be more like my friend Jenni’s: on the rocks, salted rim, not so sweet. The recipe the way I’ve written it is for a pitcherful since that’s usually how I serve them. It’s basic—note that it’s equal parts each liquid—so it’s easy to scale down the recipe if you’re only making a cocktail or two. Depending on the size of your glass, a double shot (2 oz.) of each liquid (including the water) is a good starting point for a single cocktail.
INGREDIENTS
2 cups tequila
2 cups orange liquor, such as Triple Sec
2 cups lime juice, such as Rose’s lime juice, or squeezed fresh from about 6-8 limes
2 cups filtered water
ice
1 lime, sliced
Kosher salt or sugar for the rim, if desired
INSTRUCTIONS
Mix tequila, orange liquor, lime juice, and water together in a large pitcher. Chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour.
When ready to serve, take a lime wedge and run it around the rim of your glass. Pour salt or sugar onto a flat plate or cutting board; then dip the glass in. Wiggle it around until the rim is coated. Fill glass halfway with ice. Pour in your pre-mixed margarita. Best enjoyed on a patio with plenty of chips, salsa, queso, and friends.
Moscow Mule
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Is this the best cocktail of all time? Because I’m pretty sure it’s the best cocktail of all time.
INGREDIENTS
6 oz. ginger beer
2 oz. vodka
half a lime
ice
INSTRUCTIONS
Fill copper mug 1/2-3/4 full with ice. (Is a copper mug required? That’s like asking if the Pope is Catholic. You technically don’t need a copper mug. But I wouldn’t drink it any other way.)
Pour in ginger beer and vodka. Squeeze juice from lime and throw the rest of the lime half in there, too. Stir around. Sip. Smile. Your day just got better.
NOTES
I like ginger beers that are more spicy than sweet. A couple favorites are Q Mixers Ginger Beer and Fever Tree.
If I have lime juice I add a splash to my Moscow Mule, in addition to the juice from the lime itself.
Sub whiskey for a Kentucky mule or tequila for a Mexican mule.
But seriously you should get yourself some copper mugs.