Caipirinha...More Like Diaperinha!

Two weekends ago I decided to try something new. If you couldn’t tell already, I’m a pretty hip person. I consider myself a somewhat of a progressive, avant-garde, cultural chap. I know what the kids think is cool these days, those roller shoes for example. I keep on top of the current trends in fashion. Polo button ups, khakis, Doc Martins, leather braded belts and such. Well I decided to try my hand at a new cultural drink. I stand here today, disappointed and mildly bitter about my attempt at further refinement.
For the past couple months I’ve been thinking and working on a significant goal for myself this summer - to patent a drink for myself. I want to have a go-to beverage that’s mine, that tastes great in the summer, all summer, that others think is great and, of course, gets you crunked. So far, and with the gift of a Mojito kit for Christmas, I have perfected Monty’s 30 Minute Mojito, with crushed strawberries and pineapple juice. Which I must say is outstanding, and can hide booze better than a freshman in the dorms, but it seriously takes me around a half hour to make a batch. Plus, Mojito’s are so 2006. Very Napoleon Dynamite. Still good, but it’s now on TBS. (Precisely why my Target Mojito kit was being shuffled out of the store around Christmas). I needed something fresh. I then watched an episode of one of my favorite shows. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. If you aren’t TiVo-ing this show you’re missing out. Well Tony went to Sao Paulo one episode, and the entire episode he was hanging out with two hot Brazilian chicks, and got totally sauced on the native drink of Brazil, The Caipirinha. He was raving about it. Drinking different kinds, not just the standard lime, but passion fruit, mango, pomegranate .. and on and on. I was entranced. He and these two beautiful girls were swapping Caipirinhas at dinner, getting all these different courses of food, gorgeous food and cocktails and hoo hoos all right there and it all looked fantastic and probably the most glorious meal ever. The Caipirinha. This could be my drink. In fact, this will be my summer drink. Tony has never led me astray before. I could see it already... “What are you drinking?” “It’s called a Caipirinha. The native drink of Brazil.” “Really?” says the attractive girl with generous cleavage. "Yeah. I've been drinking them for a while. It’s a pretty hot drink right now in New York, LA as well as other influential areas. You should probably know about it. It's pretty cool I guess. Here have one.” “Wow that is soo interesting. And it is soo delicious.” “I know” “And you are so progressive and hip and trendy and I should probably show you my rack right now” and so on. A terrific summer it will be.

So a day or two later I went on the Internet and further researched the Caipirinha. It is made most traditionally using only muddled limes, sugar and the traditional liquor of Brazil, Cachaça. Cachaça is the distillate of fresh sugar cane which undergoes a meticulous fermentation and triple-filtered processes. Some of the nicer brands, post fermentation, are then shipped to the south of France where they rest, for up to three months in vintage French oak casks used for storing cognac. Interesting. I kept reading and apparently not only is it authentic, and supposedly delicious, it is quite the trend right now too and is shaping up to be the most sought after drink of 2007. Its the most popular cocktail in Europe, and has since taken hold in bars in New York, Miami and Los Angeles. I was sold. I decided right there that Friday was my Caipirinha initiation day. I did some more digging. To make them properly, authentic and delicious, I found that one of the better bottles of Cachaça you can buy around here is called Leblon. About $30. Apparently it is “the Champagne of Cachaça. It has a lively fruity nose, and a natural smooth, rounded, silky taste, and makes a wonderful Caipirinha”

So I got my Leblon, it was even 30% off, this was meant to be, I got my limes and went back to my house proudly to make Caipirinhas for myself and our guests that were over. I cracked open the bottle and took a whiff.. In one smell my entire dream for the summer deflated, for it smelt like the dense, musty, pungent smell of napalm. Not exactly the “fruity nose” I had expected. Worried, but invested, I remained positive. Maybe it was an acquired smell. The taste will prevail. So I mixed up a cocktail, proper amounts of everything, and took a hefty sip. And almost spit the shit across the room. Fucking sick. I'm vocal - Aaawwwwww!! My stomach is spasming. This was the most disgusting shit I have ever tasted. It tasted like rotten pig stomach with a hint of lime. I tried some straight, no better, straight up embalming fluid. Like a mouse had crawled in a bottle, died, rotted in the sun, and then Brazilians filled it with liquor. I was swallowing mouth fulls of saliva that were gushing in my mouth to prevent me from vomiting. Others tried it, and almost gagged as well, except for my roommate, who actually liked it?!? This experiment is not tantamount to declaring tequila undrinkable after one shot of Cuervo, because yes, Cuervo is bad first blush, but it doesn’t taste like the fermented remains of Heath Ledger. So I declare here - New York you can have it. LA, along with your flavored oxygen canisters, it’s yours. Tony Bourdain, you have led me astray and failed me. I placed so much faith in you. Of all the bathtub gin, homemade Singaporian countryside gasoline I see you drink in your journeys around the world, I expected this, your highest of praise to be at least edible! With that I’ve come to the conclusion that if being trendy means having to develop an acquired taste for foul, rotted, shit - well consider me Barney Fife. My tastes will stay in Mayburry. One of the greatest parts of this adventure was I told a friend the next day about my attempt at making Caipirinhas and how absolutely decrepitly sick they were. She of course said I made them wrong, because when made properly they are supposed to taste like toothpaste. F-ing toothpaste? First off - no way. Secondly, is that any better? I don't know about you but I spit my toothpaste out after brushing because it tastes like shit. What - do you gut it? You just slap the shit on a spoon and eat it like peanutbutter? The quest for my official 2008 summer cocktail continues. I will definitely let you all know of any developments - and if all else fails everyone is invited over for Monty's 30 Minute Mojitos this summer.