Campaign Cocktails for Debate Drinking

Ladies and gentlemen, Election Season 2012 is underway, and the first Presidential Debate is airing on Wednesday, October 3. Whether you’re a committed party member or just a committed partier, the Presidential Debates can provide loads of information—and, often unintentionally, loads of laughter.

Whether you’re genuinely interested in what the candidates have to say or if you’re just in it to play a few drinking games (remember “Palin Bingo?”), here are three cocktails that everybody can agree on: For the Lefty, the ALObama Slammer; for the Righty, the Mitt-tini; and for the Swing Voter, the Singapore Mudsling.


The ALObama Slammer

The traditional Alabama Slammer is made with Amaretto, Southern Comfort, and Orange Juice. In this version, we substitute Peach Lambic beer for the peach-flavored Southern Comfort, because we know our President likes his beer. This recipe serves two, because when it comes to good beer, it’s always nice to share your wealth.

2 shots amaretto
Orange juice
1 750 mL bottle Lindeman’s Peach Lambic

Divide the amaretto between two pint glasses. Add a splash of orange juice to each, and fill each glass with the Peach Lambic beer.



The Mitt-tini

Sometimes a candidate has to abandon ideals to appeal to his/her base, so this martini features a few things that your typical Mormon would frown upon, but on top is a float of Goldschlager, which contains flakes of gold. This recipe serves one—if someone else wants a sip, just say, “You didn’t build that!”

1 oz. vodka
½ t. cocoa powder
2 oz. Kahlua
1 oz. goldschlager

Combine the vodka, cocoa powder, and Kahlua in a shaker with ice. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Pouring slowly and carefully over the back of a spoon, “float” the goldschlager atop the mixed drink so that you can see the gold flakes.


The Singapore Mudsling

This drink is for the person who can’t take the back-and-forth blame game or the mudslinging. Sometimes, all the lying and the finger-pointing and the half-truths will drive you to drink! This cross between a Singapore Sling and a Mudslide will do the trick. It serves two, and I must warn you that it’s deceptive strength may sneak up on you, so make sure you don’t drink too many and sleep through Election Day!

1 oz. dry gin
2 oz. pineapple juice
2 oz. coconut coffee creamer (SoDelicious is my favorite brand)
2 oz. Kahlua
1 oz. brandy from brandy-soaked cherries
4 brandy-soaked cherries
1 t. cocoa powder
Squeeze lime juice
Handful ice cubes
Lime wedges, to garnish
Sprinkle cocoa powder, to garnish

Blend all ingredients except the lime wedges in a blender—the drink will foam a bit, so pour immediately. Serve in margarita glasses, garnished with a lime wedge and a sprinkle of cocoa powder atop the foam.

Are You Forking Kidding Me?

I'm a bit late on this one - today, I stumbled across a copy of Marie Claire, and while skimming the letters to the editor, I found comments regarding a previously published article on a new fad diet called "Le Forking." Le What-ing? Did yours truly miss an opportunity to pass judgment on a new cringe-inducing fad diet?!?

               Click here to read the article on Marie Claire's website...

Hmm...so under this plan, I could only eat foods that I can pick up with a fork. No spoons, no knives, no hands, no chopsticks, just a fork. Being the ex-law student I am, I immediately began listing potential loopholes in this "fork only" rule - is a spork considered a fork or a spoon?

Like the author, my thoughts on the diet are mixed. First, I am awfully surprised that this diet originated in France - I was under the impression that Americans were the only people dysfunctional enough to jump on bizarre weight loss methods. I always pointed to the French as an example of a healthy, rational food culture. Maybe I'm stuck in the past, or maybe "Le Forking" proponents are just a vocal, media-savvy fringe group?

Next, who made these rules? How does fish count as a fork-friendly food, but chicken does not? I've certainly had crappily-cooked chicken with a texture that would make the soles of my Doc Martens seem buttery in comparison, but properly cooked chicken is easily eaten with nothing more than a fork. These rules are far too arbitrary for one to be able to truly commit.

My last thought, however, swings the pendulum the other way. I've written many times before about how America's eat-on-the-run culture saddens me. I am highly suspect of "food" that is designed to be eaten while rushing from place to place, meeting to meeting, point A to point B. In defense of "Le Forking," perhaps eating this way is a step towards recognizing that taking the time to sit down to eat a meal is a noble goal.

What are your thoughts?

Feeding Tube Diets: It’s Official; the World Has Gone Mad

It’s not too often that I see a news headline that actually shocks me. I’m used to the media’s “if it bleeds, it leads” approach to journalism, but this one left me with a deer-in-headlights stare, asking myself, “Did I read that right?!?”

The K-E Diet: Brides-to-Be Using Feeding Tubes to Rapidly Shed Pounds  

Photo taken from Yahoo/ABC News link

After reading the entire story, my brain morphed into a melting pot of shock, anger, confusion, pity, scorn, and frustration. Once my head stopped spinning, I sunk into a low place of despondency and helplessness.

As my loyal readers know, I do not believe in restrictive dieting. I believe that food is a great source of pleasure, and we should not deny ourselves that pleasure. That being said, I don’t encourage overindulgence and gluttony. I sigh and shake my head when I hear people expressing the belief that enjoyment can only be achieved by eating portions large enough to feed an entire county, desserts that contain a month’s worth of sugar, and extreme combinations of meat, cheese, and fats that are overly processed and deep-fried to the point where one cannot distinguish the individual flavors of each ingredient.

On the other end of the spectrum is the diet industry. I abhor the concept of restrictive dieting, and I am sickened by the things that people are willing to do to themselves in order to drop a few pounds. As we get wider and otherwise less healthy, the diet industry laughs all the way to the bank. This makes me so angry, not only at the diet companies, but at our society in general. What have we become? We’re more willing to spend obscene amounts of money on books, powders, potions, pills, and other snake oils when simply buying and eating more fresh vegetables and taking the stairs instead of the elevator would produce more sustainable results.

People receive praise, or at least social acceptance, when they prove that they’re willing to kill themselves at the gym, malnourish their bodies, and choose drastic surgical options like gastric bypass and liposuction, all because carrying a few extra pounds is viewed as a mortal sin in our culture. Offenses such as lying, cheating, and stealing are often waived off and sometimes even encouraged, but gaining ten pounds is unforgiveable. I hate watching what people, especially women, are willing to do to themselves just to conform to some random, arbitrary societal standard that changes every five minutes and rarely has anything to do with physical or emotional health. And just when I thought nothing the diet industry foists onto the masses could shock me, I find out that women are willfully shoving feeding tubes up their noses just to fit into goddamn dresses?!?

I have no choice but to close my eyes, lower my head, and say, “I give up.” I can spout off about the joys of eating real food. I can lend my Michael Pollan books to everybody in my social circle. I can write blogs and send tweets and encourage my representatives to vote in favor of truth in food labeling, ending industrial agriculture, limiting food marketing targeting children, taxing soft drinks, and supporting small organic farmers, but what the hell good is it going to do? If it’s not dirt-cheap and it’s not a quick fix, nobody fucking cares.

I am struggling to keep my composure and not cry as I write this post. Our culture is broken beyond repair, and it breaks my heart to know that I can’t fix it.