Barrett's Mixology

By Daniel F. Linsalata | Friday, October 7, 2005

Bloody Caesar

1 oz Vodka
3 oz Clamato Juice
1 dash Worcestershire sauce
2-3 dashes Tobasco sauce

Mix all ingredients in highball glass over ice. Add salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with celery stalk.

Despite everyone's best efforts, Autumn has finally arrived. This transitional season means a host of things to different people, some more poignant than others. To me, early Autumn marks the beginning of the charity benefit season. Not, of course, the big-name blowout galas that always fall closer to the holidays�the Red Cross, United Way, Salvation Army, and miscellaneous "Battle Against Hunger"-type events. I'm speaking more of the smaller-time players, the bench-squad charity events: perhaps a few events for inner-city education, a handful of religious organizations, and high schools and universities looking to score a few big donors over Homecoming. And of course, the Animal Protection League's annual Fur Ball.

I am, however, no longer welcome at the Fur Ball. A number of years ago, the second wife and I received what I thought to be an unsolicited invitation to the event from the APL. For some reason that I still don't recall, I agreed to attend. I tore off a check for the mid-five-figure table, hoping that would ensure a repast of veal, lamb, and perhaps caviar and toast points, instead of some tofu meat-substitute that I would expect at such an event. Upon arrival at the gala, I was simultaneously flattered and baffled by the compliments of my storied generosity, seeing as my last charitable act was buying Girl Scout cookies three years ago. Only later, during a series of nasty hearings, would I find out that "I" had purchased significantly more than Thin Mints during my eighteen-month marriage. The gears in my head began to turn as W2 wasted no time in bustling past our VIP table to the bar, where she succeeded in spilling an entire glass of this deep red liquid all over the new brown mink coat she had purchased for the occasion. I could foresee the entire sequence of events unfolding before they even happened. My suspicions of the money trail were strong enough, and I clandestinely slipped off to the men's room and fired an email off my Blackberry to my lawyer instructing him to draw up the papers�again.

Barrett's Mixology

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