Last night, I taught my son Stefan to muddle. It isn't the sort of skill one learns at their mother's knee, like sewing or first aid. Muddling is a lost art in a video game playing, Red Bull drinking culture. Most kids these days have never muddled in their lives. It is now only an essential skill for those who read the Sunday New York Times and who frequent the Vintages section of the LCBO. Sort of like pipe smoking in a tobacco loathing world. The lesson began as a kind of request. Stef has recently been promoted to bartender from server at his job and many folks have been complaining that the joint where he works cannot make a proper Mojito. They are too sour, the patrons railed. The Mojito recipe had been handed down from Head Office along with an ingredient list which was right and proper, save for the addition of a little too much lime. Head office required bartenders to make the Mojito with a shaker which, I told Stef in no uncertain terms, wouldn't d...
More than a million served!