Everyday Drinking: The Distilled Kingsley Amis
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A gift for anyone who loves good liquor and high-proof prose: a collection of hilarious and deeply informed writings about drink from one of the all-time authorities.
Kingsley Amis was one of the great masters of comic prose, and no subject was dearer to him than the art and practice of imbibing. This new volume brings together the best of his three out-of-print works on the subject. Along with a series of well-tested recipes (including a cocktail called the Lucky Jim) the book includes Amis’s musings on The Hangover, The Boozing Man’s Diet, What to Drink with What, and (presumably as a matter of speculation) How Not to Get Drunk—all leavened with fun quizzes on the making and drinking of alcohol all over the world. Mixing practical know-how and hilarious opinionation, this is a delightful cocktail of wry humor and distilled knowledge, served by one of our great gimlet wits.
yeast extracts, unaccountably enjoyed by the British and Australians as a spread on toast fruit machine: a slot machine GLC: Greater London Council, the administrative body that served the city area from 1965 to 1986 hock: Any of the white wines produced along the German Rhine. The name derives from the Rheingau village of Hochheim. Think Riesling, if it’s for you, or liebfraumilch, if you’re serving company. Husband’s Scotch: a whiskey (like J & B) whose light color makes it appear more
proceed as follows. Having deviously asked for an extra glass ahead of time, say to him: “This wine is perfectly wholesome, but it’s overpriced.” (True in 99 per cent of UK restaurants.) When he disagrees, say: “Would you please try it yourself?” He can’t refuse and will infallibly look a charley as he stands there pouring, sniffing and tasting. When he disagrees a second time, you can thank him for his trouble as man to man or politely insult him for saying what he’s bound to say. About the
yourself with stomach medicines or antacid formulas. Try to let your digestion recover on its own. To help it, if you fancy breakfast at all don’t eat much of anything, and let it be easy for your stomach to cope with: toast, cereal, milk, weakish coffee, not greasy fried food nor— what’s more tempting—violent stuff like chilled fruit juice. I remember from my youth a fearful thing called a Prairie Oyster that was supposed to pick you up. It consisted of a raw egg, brandy and Worcester sauce or
of Sangria or Wine Cup. Only the old stagers will notice that the Bloody Mary is nine tenths tomato juice and the Sangria mostly lemonade darkened with Angostura bitters— a nice touch—and they won’t dare say anything, at least not with their wives around. Those wives can be very useful. Ingratiate yourself by lighting their cigarettes, complimenting them on their appearance, even seeming to listen to what they say. Your ideal, long-term objective is a quarrel between each old stager and his wife
it. Well, I had to call it something. Here’s how to make another great unknown, which some nice lady described to me at a party in the sixties and I’ve never heard of elsewhere. It takes a bottle of British vodka, a lemon and a hell of a lot of patience. Cut all the peel off the lemon without also cutting off any of the white pith underneath. (There are clever dicks who can do this in one go, so that they end up with a single long strip of peel.) Poke the peel into the vodka and screw the cap on