Let’s get drunk. Take that, Pat.
If you’ve been paying attention to the news of late you’re probably aware that America’s reigning pulpit-pounding crackpot Pat Robertson recently upset many of the folks in Venezuela by suggesting, in no uncertain terms, that we send assassins down there to kill their president. Now, some might say that’s just Pat being Pat. In the past, the septuagenarian “700 Club” founder has, after all, compared left-leaning citizens of this country to Nazis; claimed that the feminist movement encourages women to kill their children; and accused little Halloween trick-or-treaters of being Satanists … and nobody here really seems to care all that much.
Still, I thought it wise to extend an olive branch to our friends down in Venezuela by encouraging Americans to get drunk on South American hootch this Labor Day weekend (and, boy, won’t that get Pat’s goat?) Venezuela’s most well known export is Angostura Bitters, which doesn’t lend itself to warm-weather cocktails, so allow me to instead suggest something from neighboring country Brazil: Cachaca (pronounced “KUH-shah-suh”), the rum-like spirit that is the key ingredient in the refreshing caipirinha. The name translates roughly to “farmer’s drink,” but the caipirinha has outgrown its bumpkin beginnings and become quite popular.
Made with lime, sugar and two ounces of cachaca — Beliza Pura is an outstanding brand — the key to a great caipirinha is in the muddling. Place eight lime wedges, pulp-side up, in a glass and sprinkle with sugar. With a pestle, use mild pressure and a twisting motion to release the juice in the flesh, not to crush the skin, which is high in unwanted bitter oils. And as Pat Robertson would no doubt attest, the only thing worse than a bitter caipirinha is a pack of liberal lesbo devil-kids coming around begging for sweets!
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on September 2, 2005. Read the original PDF.