Now, I’m usually a Grain Belt gal, but Seen Your Video is coupled with a shot of bourbon and I wanted to remember my first experience to La Belle Vie. While Grain Belt goes down like water, I can’t say the same for bourbon. And, really, I can grab a Grain Belt any old time from my own fridge (and the shot of bourbon, for that matter, that is left over from Jen’s eggnog recipe…yu-um.) My second favorite drink is cava…bubbly, Spanish, fancy…la quiero un montón. Almost Last Call is a “glass of cava, served with a shot of whatever you want, with a far side bev-nap.” Again, with the shots. I just haven’t mastered the shot…except…for…tequila. I like tequila. It likes me. But I didn’t want to shoot it (as much as I would have liked to have read the far side bev-nap.) I wanted to relish in the entire La Belle Vie experience with a cocktail. I quickly scanned the menu for a tequila-based beverage…. “French Riviera….reposado margarita with a touch of green chartreuse”…intrigued…a margarita…from France? And not just France-France…French Riviera France!? Margaritas usually evoke images of guacamole and confetti-littered beds. Margaritas are for sipping pool-side in Mexico. Margaritas are so…not…French. So I thought. Well, I’ve had margaritas that are too limey..too sweet…too tart…and, well, too tequila-y. But this drink was smooth…like the bikini lines on the French Riviera. This is due in part to the reposado tequila…nice and mellow. No Cuervo here (I bet that doesn’t even exist at La Belle Vie). While I knew my reposado…I wasn’t real familiar with chartreuse other than the brilliant color it is. Well, I found out that chartreuse is distilled under the supervision of monks from the Grande Chartreuse monastery in France. How can those gentle men NOT produce a beautiful and gentle liqueur? I’ll be back for another french riviera before Cinco de Mayo rolls around. Yo te lo prometo.

I kept with the French theme and moved on to Parlez-vous…raspberry vodka, pineapple juice and cava topped with orange-passionfruit foam. I have studied Spanish for years and so the French language has always befuddled me. I want to pronounce every single *%$#@! letter. They seem to add “eaux” and “lles” just to make words look more beautiful, I swear. Do you hear all those letters? No. Are they necessary? Probably so. Does it make the word look pretty? Most definitely. (case in point: mille feuillles-looks AND tastes magnifique!) I watched Johnny spiral the most perfect curly-q orange peel garnish and lay it gingerly off the side of the glass…voilà, i whispered…Do you eat the garnish? No. Does it add flavor to the drink? Probably. Does it make it look pretty? Most definitely. The orange-passionfruit foam was tasty, but breaking through the foam to the vodka/pineapple juice/cava mixture was purely delightful. It danced across my tongue (most likely the cava) in the most refreshing mix of flavors. I saved the raspberry for one last explosion of flavors. With the last sip, I could feel myself shedding Spanish Raquel for French Rachelle…Parlez vous? A few more of these and I’ll parlez vous français all night long. Au revoir, mes cheris …

guest drinker Rachel

Ever since I went to La Belle Vie with guest drinker Rachel a few weeks ago, doing my write up has been hanging over my head. What held me up hasn’t been the usual excuses of being too busy or having come down with writer’s block, but simply that I could not remember what I had to drink that night. And it wasn’t because I had too many, I only had two drinks (which is really like four. It’s akin to how one human year equals seven dog years: one Johnny drink equals at least two Applebee’s drinks.) I remembered the drink was good, but that was about it.

But yesterday I found myself at Home Depot for the eleventieth time in the past few days. As I rifled through my purse for a receipt to return a Dap Cap (hint: though using your finger will cause it to become cancerous in California, it is still neater and easier than using a Dap Cap) I came up instead with a handful of loose tobacco. “What the…” I muttered and peered into my purse. Seeing the Dunhill cigarette tucked inside of my purse with it’s stuffing falling out I quickly remembered that I had ordered the This Charming Man that night with Rachel. Then it all came back to me.

This Charming Man is really a very pleasant drink. It is gin based, with creme de cassis, sour and cava. It is served – somewhat curiously – with a Dunhill cigarette chaser. The drink is very smooth, like many a charming man can be. But also like many a charming man, the drink did not leave me feeling completely satisfied (afterall, I did not have the urge to smoke the cigarette right there on the spot.) It was fun while it lasted, but when it was done I moved on to something with substance (a Parma to be precise) and the only remnant of my night with the This Charming Man was found in my purse days later. Not entirely unlike reaching for the car keys and coming up instead with a napkin with a stranger’s name and number scrawled on it. Just like I look at those with a confused look and cocked eyebrow, I did the same with the Dunhill cigarette in my purse. “Huh,” I muttered, and tossed out the Dunhill on my way to register 14.

Lush Jen