“There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.” — Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2
When a man reaches a certain age, he’s liable to have favorite Simpsons jokes. One of mine comes from The Simpsons Movie. The apocalypse is coming: a shadow falls over Springfield. A wide shot shows us the church and Moe’s Bar, separated by an alley. The congregants rush out of the church; the patrons pour out of the bar. Each group looks up at the threatening sky, then the churchgoers run into the bar while the barflies run into the church. Here comes death; how will you prepare for the end?
The bar at Quixote in the Lafayette hotel felt like a gorgeous riff on that joke, seeing as how it was decorated with elements from a decommissioned Catholic Church in Mexico. A statue of the Virgin Mary kept vigil over a banquet room. (I lacked the guts to ask what they kept in the tabernacle behind the bar.) I didn’t mean to come here; my wife just asked the doorman which bar we should visit, and when he mentioned tequila, down the red hallway we went.
“What should I get?” I asked Anthony the bartender.
“What do you like?”
“I like tequila.”
“Not mezcal?”
“Some mezcal.”
“The Vernita Green.”
Right he was. First impression: I felt like I was drinking a lightly spicy puree of cactus leaf, with some tomatillo tossed in for zip. Though I was sure it was more complicated than that. (It always is.)
But the wife was drawn to some of the other offerings: “Here Today, Gone Tomorrow” and “Sudden Death.” She chose the latter, then said, “So my friend Jen texted me two days ago asking for prayers because a friend of hers died in a car accident with two of her children. Hit by a semi, on their way home from Mass. She worked at a birth center as a midwife. Everyone who met her said she touched their lives. Jesus said, ‘That soul looks delicious.’ I want to cry. How dare I stay alive? It’s not fair. That’s why I’m getting Sudden Death. The finish is super cool and clean. Is that the absinthe? Your drink is rooty and earthy. Mine’s ethereal. In the core is life — that elderberry tonic — but the end is, ‘Better let go.’ I didn’t want to tell you before today.”
Why today? Because today was November 1: All Saints Day, the celebration of eternal life that gives us All Hallows’ Eve. And tomorrow would be All Souls, when we remember those who have gone before us. And because we were here in this bar, seeking solace, spiritual and otherwise. Like those poor souls in The Simpsons Movie. As I said, I didn’t mean to come here. But I guess maybe Shakespeare was right.
Quixote’s
Vernita Green
The Verdita is a blend of red bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, Fresno chile, cilantro, mint, celery, salt, pineapple juice, and lime juice. Build ingredients in shaking tin, add 10 oz. crushed ice, shake, and empty into tumbler filled with more crushed ice. Garnish with mint and taijin-dipped pineapple.
“There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.” — Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2
When a man reaches a certain age, he’s liable to have favorite Simpsons jokes. One of mine comes from The Simpsons Movie. The apocalypse is coming: a shadow falls over Springfield. A wide shot shows us the church and Moe’s Bar, separated by an alley. The congregants rush out of the church; the patrons pour out of the bar. Each group looks up at the threatening sky, then the churchgoers run into the bar while the barflies run into the church. Here comes death; how will you prepare for the end?
The bar at Quixote in the Lafayette hotel felt like a gorgeous riff on that joke, seeing as how it was decorated with elements from a decommissioned Catholic Church in Mexico. A statue of the Virgin Mary kept vigil over a banquet room. (I lacked the guts to ask what they kept in the tabernacle behind the bar.) I didn’t mean to come here; my wife just asked the doorman which bar we should visit, and when he mentioned tequila, down the red hallway we went.
“What should I get?” I asked Anthony the bartender.
“What do you like?”
“I like tequila.”
“Not mezcal?”
“Some mezcal.”
“The Vernita Green.”
Right he was. First impression: I felt like I was drinking a lightly spicy puree of cactus leaf, with some tomatillo tossed in for zip. Though I was sure it was more complicated than that. (It always is.)
But the wife was drawn to some of the other offerings: “Here Today, Gone Tomorrow” and “Sudden Death.” She chose the latter, then said, “So my friend Jen texted me two days ago asking for prayers because a friend of hers died in a car accident with two of her children. Hit by a semi, on their way home from Mass. She worked at a birth center as a midwife. Everyone who met her said she touched their lives. Jesus said, ‘That soul looks delicious.’ I want to cry. How dare I stay alive? It’s not fair. That’s why I’m getting Sudden Death. The finish is super cool and clean. Is that the absinthe? Your drink is rooty and earthy. Mine’s ethereal. In the core is life — that elderberry tonic — but the end is, ‘Better let go.’ I didn’t want to tell you before today.”
Why today? Because today was November 1: All Saints Day, the celebration of eternal life that gives us All Hallows’ Eve. And tomorrow would be All Souls, when we remember those who have gone before us. And because we were here in this bar, seeking solace, spiritual and otherwise. Like those poor souls in The Simpsons Movie. As I said, I didn’t mean to come here. But I guess maybe Shakespeare was right.
Quixote’s
Vernita Green
The Verdita is a blend of red bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, Fresno chile, cilantro, mint, celery, salt, pineapple juice, and lime juice. Build ingredients in shaking tin, add 10 oz. crushed ice, shake, and empty into tumbler filled with more crushed ice. Garnish with mint and taijin-dipped pineapple.
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