I recently got into Old Fashioned cocktails, which means I’ve added a dasher of Angostura bitters to my bar cabinet.
Neat it’s kind of miserable. It’s like, go to your mom’s house, get the five oldest jars out of her spice cabinet, boil the contents in vodka for an hour.
Diluted with some sugar water and it tastes like understanding your grandparents. It has a clove-forward spice flavor that seemed to follow my ancestors everywhere, I came to associate it with old people who had no idea how to relate to me. But served with some whiskey and a twist of orange, I get it.
I recently got into Old Fashioned cocktails, which means I’ve added a dasher of Angostura bitters to my bar cabinet.
Neat it’s kind of miserable. It’s like, go to your mom’s house, get the five oldest jars out of her spice cabinet, boil the contents in vodka for an hour.
Diluted with some sugar water and it tastes like understanding your grandparents. It has a clove-forward spice flavor that seemed to follow my ancestors everywhere, I came to associate it with old people who had no idea how to relate to me. But served with some whiskey and a twist of orange, I get it.