Classic Films

Written on the Wind

Image: Written on the Wind, 1956

In my house, it’s just not fall until I’ve watched at least one Douglas Sirk movie. No other director does changing leaves and soaring orchestral scores quite like the master of women’s pictures, and Written on the Wind (Disc) is a prime example of his iconic style. By the end of this movie, I’m ready to pop the collar on my flannel shirt and find the nearest picturesque pond.

Written on the Wind is a natural fit for Cinema Sips because somebody is holding a cocktail in nearly every scene. Robert Stack and Dorothy Malone play spoiled boozehound siblings, while Rock Hudson and Lauren Bacall try to temper the siblings’ wild ways. Rock loves Lauren, Lauren loves Robert, Dorothy loves Rock, Robert loves liquor, and this quadrangle is one delicious Texas soap opera. Rock is maybe the hottest geologist to ever set foot on an oil rig, and it’s easy to see how Dorothy Malone’s character Marylee could self destruct over her unrequited love for him. She has all the best scenes in the movie, leaning over cars and divans with a glass in her hand like the world bores her to death. But it’s all a front: she’s just a lonely girl who wants her brother’s best friend to view her as more than a kid sister. And in Rock’s case, she’ll be waiting forever.

Robert Stack makes his last drunken stand on a pint of corn whiskey, and since I happen to have a jar that’s been waiting for just such a scene, it seems like a good time to use it. Maybe if I drink enough, I won’t shudder at the part where he swings the door wide open on a windy night, allowing ALL THE LEAVES TO BLOW INSIDE. The absolute horror! While watching Written on the Wind, I recommend drinking this Cinnamon Apple Mule.

Cinnamon Apple Mule

1 ½ oz Sugarland Shine Dynamite Cinnamon moonshine

1 oz spiced apple cider

1 oz lime juice

4 oz ginger beer

Dried lime wheel

Build drink over ice, stirring to combine. Garnish with a dried lime wheel.

It wouldn’t be a Douglas Sirk picture without stunning costumes and sets, and Written on the Wind‘s are certainly gorgeous. At one point, Robert Stack flies Lauren Bacall down to Miami on a whim and stocks her hotel room with every gown, evening bag, and cosmetic she could possibly need. I was rooting for her to marry him right then and there, morals be damned, but this classy dame made him wait another twenty-four hours. He may be an alcoholic mess, but the man has good taste. Cheers!

Classic Films

The Blue Gardenia

Image credit: The Blue Gardenia, 1953

Happy Noirvember to all who celebrate! Since most of the classic film community is spending this month watching private investigators, ragged newsmen, alcoholics, and suspicious dames, I’m getting in on the action with the terrific Tiki noir, The Blue Gardenia (Disc/Download). What makes a “Tiki Noir”, you ask? Well, when the main character drinks too many Pearl Divers and wakes up next to a dead body, I think that qualifies.

Set in 1950s Los Angeles, The Blue Gardenia incorporates the Tiki culture that was all the rage at the time by setting a pivotal scene in a South Seas restaurant at the corner of Hollywood and Vine. Switchboard operator Norah Larkin is enjoying a solo birthday when she opens a letter from her Korean soldier sweetheart, only to find she’s been dumped. Depressed, she accepts an invitation to dinner at the hippest spot in town from a man she doesn’t know. The Blue Gardenia is pretty much my dream movie bar, complete with peacock chairs, Cantonese food, and Nat King Cole on the piano. As she gets blackout drunk in the Coral Room, a lecherous Raymond Burr makes his move. He convinces her to come back to his place, attempts to have his way with her, and in all the chaos and confusion (thanks to Fritz Lang’s skilled direction and lighting), we know somebody gets knocked out, we know there’s a metal fireplace poker, but we don’t know who does what to whom. When Norah wakes up and sees her dead date, she has no idea: is she a killer, or an innocent person in the extremely wrong place at the wrong time?

The drink served at the Blue Gardenia is called a Polynesian Pearl Diver, but it doesn’t look like any Pearl Diver I’ve ever seen (see my Goonies post as example). This one has the traditional Navy Grog ice cone, and what looks like a rum floater on top. I assume Don the Beachcomber was not a technical advisor here, but it looks like a tasty concoction nonetheless. While watching The Blue Gardenia, try my interpretation of this film’s lethal cocktail, the Polynesian Pearl Diver.

Polynesian Pearl Diver

1 ½ oz gold Puerto Rican rum

½ oz Demerara rum

¾ oz Gardenia Mix*

1 oz orange juice

¾ oz lime juice

1 dash Angostura bitters

¾ oz Kraken dark spiced rum (floater)

Ice cone (garnish)

Lime wheel and cherry (garnish)

Insert an ice cone with straw into a glass and fill surrounding area with crushed ice. Set aside. Blend gold rum, Demerara rum, gardenia mix, orange juice, lime juice, and bitters with 4 oz crushed ice in a blender or drink mixer. Strain contents through a wire mesh sieve into prepared glass. Top with a floater of Kraken dark spiced rum, and add a lime wheel and cherry for garnish.

*Gardenia Mix:

1 oz honey

1 oz unsalted butter

1 tsp cinnamon syrup

½ tsp Allspice liqueur

½ tsp vanilla syrup

Put all ingredients in a bowl, and whip vigorously until smooth and creamy.

Anne Baxter seems to love this one- a little too much!

Beyond the terrific Tiki cocktail plot point, I adore this movie because parts of it are reminiscent of a Golden Girls episode. Norah lives with two other women, one a “Blanche” type going out on the town every night, the other a bookish, whipsmart “Dorothy”. I guess that makes Norah the “Rose”: dumb enough to go out with a man she hardly knows and drink a pint of rum. These girls are always there for each other, through bad dates, broken engagements, tough days at the telephone switchboard, and murder charges. Now that’s what I call being a friend. Cheers!

Classic Films

Captain Blood

Image: Captain Blood, 1935

From the title alone, it may seem like this week’s film Captain Blood (Disc/Download) is a perfect Scary Movie watch. Turns out, this is not a tale of vampire seamen. Rather, it’s the swashbuckling adventure flick starring Errol Flynn and Olivia DeHavilland, and it’s the perfect way to celebrate the release of A Star is Scorned, the terrific Classic Hollywood-era romance from one of my favorite authors, Maureen Lee Lenker!

If you think classic film stars cosplaying the 1600s can’t be sexy, think again. Captain Blood enters the movie as Dr. Peter Blood, making him not just a Hot Pirate, but also a Hot Doctor. He gets sold into white slavery after being convicted of treason, all for the crime of treating an injured man who rebelled against the petulant, cruel King James II. As he explains so perfectly, his loyalty is to his fellow man, not his king.

Same, Dr. Capt. Blood, same.

Once his slave ship lands in the West Indies, he begins an enemies-to-lovers romance with Arabella (Olivia DeHavilland) that spans several islands and regime changes. Blood finally manages to escape his bondage when Spanish pirates attack and leave their boats unattended for a night a drunken revelry. After this, the doctor goes full-on buccaneer, amassing doubloons and flying the Jolly Roger. There are sword fights, cannon blasts, and even a peg leg or two, as his path leads him toward new enemies, and old loves.

I use blood orange cordial in a lot of drinks this time of year, and it’s a great option when fresh blood oranges are out of season. This cocktail uses rums from some of the places Capt. Blood sails to during the course of the movie, which really makes the settings come alive. While watching Captain Blood, I recommend drinking a Bloody Grog cocktail.

Bloody Grog

½ oz grenadine

½ oz blood orange cordial (I use Liber & Co.)

2 oz Jamaican pot-still rum

½ oz Overproof 151 rum

½ oz Allspice Dram

1 oz lime juice

1 dash Peychaud’s bitters

Garnish: blood orange wheel and fresh mint

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake to chill, and strain into a glass filled with fresh ice. Garnish with a blood orange wheel and fresh mint.

In Lenker’s latest novel, the main character Flynn Banks is just as dreamy as Errol Flynn, and comes complete with a trained monkey named Rallo (if you were a Marcel fan during the heyday of Friends, then you’ll be as excited as I am about this detail!). The scenes of sword fighting are super fun, and Flynn’s California beach house is giving big Mildred Pierce vibes. If you watch Captain Blood and need more classic Hollywood romance and adventure in your life, definitely give this book a read. Cheers!

Dramas

Interview with the Vampire

Image: Interview with the Vampire, 1994

Not all gothic vampire movies have to be scary. Case in point: the super campy, super queer, Interview with the Vampire (Disc/Download). It’s the kind of movie that makes you wonder how it ever got made, and also, why did we ever stop making things like this?

Based on the novel by Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire is told from the perspective of Louis, a sensitive vampire who abhors murder. He was ushered into the dark life by Lestat, the vampire rogue who delights in the seducing and killing of humans. Brad Pitt plays Louis with all the excitement of a wet napkin, while Tom Cruise turns in perhaps the most charismatic performance of his career as Lestat. He’s funny, wild, sexy, and deserves as many sequels as the Mission Impossible franchise. I know which character I’d rather watch half a dozen iterations of, and it’s not Ethan Hunt. The movie also has the good fortune of casting lil’ miss Kirsten Dunst in the role of Claudia, a plague victim turned child vampire whom Louis and Lestat raise as their own, like one little modern vampire family. I’ll say it again: how did this get made, and why can’t we make more??

In addition to its giant stars and impressive special effects, the film also boasts incredible costume and production design. One gets the sense that we’re really seeing New Orleans at the tail end of the 18th century, and it’s remarkable how much of its style has endured into the modern day. I found a terrific cocktail book on my last visit to NOLA, which charts the supernatural lore of the city through its bars and cocktails. I chose to make a recipe from the book that felt like something Lestat would drink, right before draining an unsuspecting victim’s blood in the shadowy nook of a centuries-old bar. While watching Interview with the Vampire, I recommend drinking this Jazzy Vamp.

Jazzy Vamp (adapted from recipe in Hauntingly Good Spirits: New Orleans Cocktails to Die For by Sharon Keating and Christi Keating Sumich)

1 oz Cognac

½ oz Lemon Juice

½ oz Rose Cordial

3 oz Champagne or Prosecco

Lemon Peel and Luxardo Maraschino Cherry (garnish)

Fill a cocktail shaker with crushed ice. Add the lemon juice, cordial, and Cognac. Shake well and strain into a champagne flute. Top with champagne or prosecco, drop in a cherry, and garnish with a lemon peel.

More than anything in this film, I love how Louis thinks he’s seen his last sunrise in 1791, but thanks to the invention of moving pictures, he gets to watch them again over a century later. Whether it’s through F.W. Murnau’s Sunrise, or Robert Towne’s Tequila Sunrise, he seeks out the thing he’s been missing most, becoming a cinephile in the process. Is it weird how desperate I am to hear his review of Before Sunrise? Cheers!

Classic Films · Uncategorized

The Night of the Hunter

Image credit: The Night of the Hunter, 1955

Happy Scary Movie Season to all you brave cinemagoers! I like to do a month of spooky, supernatural, and chilling features every October, and this week, we’re starting with a truly nightmarish classic film. Pull the covers all the way up to your chin and leave a light on for this week’s pick, The Night of the Hunter (Disc/Download).

In Charles Laughton’s single, brilliant directorial outing, Robert Mitchum stars as a murderous preacher who targets women in rural communities. After getting locked up and hearing his cellmate talk about some stolen money, he makes his way to the death-row inmate’s family under the guise of spiritual counsel. Shelley Winters plays yet another gullible lady taken in by a handsome face (see also: A Place in the Sun), while her two kids remain more suspicious of the charismatic preacher.  They alone hold the knowledge of where their father hid the money, and after their new stepdad disposes of their mom with a knife to the throat, they must outrun this psycho before he kills them next. The children set off down the Ohio river in an old rowboat, barely eating or sleeping as they try to stay one step ahead of Mitchum. Finally, they wash up on Lillian Gish’s property, and she takes the orphans in, protecting them as only a feisty old woman with a shotgun can do. Mitchum’s tattooed hands spell the words “Love” and “Hate”, and the movie’s suspense builds as we wait to see which one will triumph. Will it be the monster in the basement, clawing at their ankles, or will it be the strong maternal figure who walks with them in the sunlight?

The movie’s river journey is incredibly haunting, due to the scale of the woodland creatures in the foreground of the frame, and the melancholy song sung by the little girl, Pearl. This variation on a French Pearl cocktail evokes the American South through its inclusion of Herbsaint, an anise-flavored New Orleans liqueur popular in many spooky cocktails. While watching The Night of the Hunter, I recommend drinking a Pearl River.

Pearl River

2 oz Gin

¼ oz Herbsaint

¾ oz Lime Juice

¾ oz Simple Syrup

Fresh Mint

Lime and mint sprig (garnish)

Muddle a few leaves of mint with lime juice and simple syrup in the bottom of a shaker. Add Herbsaint, Gin, and ice to the shaker, and shake to chill and combine. Double strain into a coupe glass and garnish with a lime wheel and mint sprig.

The reason this film feels so powerful to me is that we all remember the feeling of being kid, and realizing the adults couldn’t always protect you. I’ve relived it again this year, as those I once turned to for comfort have fallen prey to the fearmongering, false prophecy, and grift of a dangerous charlatan. I want to scream, and cry, and ask:

“Why don’t you believe he’s hurting me?”

“Why won’t you protect me?”

“Why can’t you see through the lies?”

But the scary thing is (and this is really scary): I don’t think anyone is coming to save me. I don’t know if there’s a Lillian Gish out there, pure of heart and brave beyond measure, waiting at the end of the river. I’m starting to feel like the one of the kids in the rowboat, tired and afraid.

Comedies

This is Spinal Tap

Image: This is Spinal Tap, 1984

While I’m typically anti-sequel/franchise in my movie tastes, I couldn’t help but be excited about the recent return of one of my favorite fictional bands. This is Spinal Tap (Disc/Download) essentially created the mockumentary genre, and though I haven’t been lucky enough to see Spinal Tap II yet (distribution is sadly lacking in my area), I’m glad Guest & Co. are still out there, rocking hard and giving the world a much-needed laugh.

Starring Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer as a fictional British heavy metal band, This is Spinal Tap mimics the look and tone of rock documentaries like The Last Waltz, so much so that you might be fooled into thinking this is an actual non-fiction project about a trio of narcissistic, dim-witted musicians. The laughs come from the film’s absurd scenarios, improvised dialogue, and song lyrics, but never from stereotypical “jokes”. We laugh at Guest and McKean sporting matching herpes sores, not because anyone ever points them out, but because they don’t. Tap never underestimates the intelligence of its audience, yet it challenges us in new ways. Because the film’s actual director Rob Reiner plays fictional on-screen director Marty Di Bergi, the lines of real and fake are continuously blurred. By the time the song “Big Bottom” is played, you’ve already forgotten these aren’t “real” rock songs because the fact is, they are real, and they are rock n’ roll. They also happen to be incredibly funny.

Now that Spinal Tap has come back around, it got me thinking about “Auld Lang Syne”, Robert Burns’ ode to the remembrance of old friends. The movies of Christopher Guest defined my young adulthood, and they’ll always be synonymous with the nights I spent with my college crew laughing at Waiting for Guffman in someone’s dorm room, or screaming like a groupie during the Mighty Wind tour. Whether you’re watching the original or the sequel, let’s toast the movie friends (and rock stars!) that should never be forgot with a classic Bobby Burns cocktail.

Bobby Burns

2 oz Scotch

1 oz Sweet Vermouth

¼ oz Bénédictine

Garnish: Lemon Twist

Stir the ingredients over ice, then strain into a Nick & Nora glass. Twist the lemon peel over the drink to express the oils, then rest it on the rim.

I always assumed A Mighty Wind’s reunion of Guest, McKean, and Shearer as The Folksmen would be the closest we’d get to an on-screen Tap reunion, but happily, these guys keep coming back for more. From miniature Stonehenge sets, to amps that go to eleven, This is Spinal Tap is the enduring comedy masterpiece that will never seem old-fashioned, even if the players are now…well… old. Cheers!

Dramas

Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

Image: Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, 1974

Don’t you just love a diner? The smell of pancakes, maple syrup, and coffee. The sound of a waitress asking whether you want toast or a biscuit (biscuit; always a biscuit). And most of all, a cross section of humanity, the whole place filled with hangovers and hard workers. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (Disc/Download) is a bit like the diner it depicts: quiet some times, abrasively loud at others. Let’s pour a drink and park ourselves in a comfy booth.

Martin Scorsese made this film in between Mean Streets and Taxi Driver, and although it has the realism, incredible performances, and artistic flair of those two films, Alice Doesn’t Live Here is an odd choice for a guy who would make his name in the gritty neighborhoods of New York City. This romantic drama (I use the term “romantic” loosely) follows newly widowed Alice (Ellen Burstyn) on the road to Monterey, CA with her son Tommy. Along the way, she finds a bad romance with Harvey Keitel, a good romance with Kris Kristofferson, and a job as a waitress in Tucson. It’s a far cry from her dream of being a lounge singer, but at least it’s work. Tommy starts hanging out with the local troublemaker (Jodie Foster, who I’m convinced came out of the womb sounding like a jaded middle-aged woman), and pretty soon, Monterey starts to seem like a silly childhood fantasy. They’ve already started building a better life without even realizing it.

Regarding diner food and brunch beverages, I’ve always wondered why I rarely see an espresso martini made with maple syrup. Coffee and pancakes go together pretty well, right? I tried it for myself this week, and I’m very pleased with the results. Now I just need the pancakes. While watching Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, I recommend drinking this Maple Espresso Martini.

Maple Espresso Martini

2 oz Vodka

1 oz Chilled Espresso

1/2 oz Coffee Liqueur (I used Mr. Black)

1/2 oz Maple Syrup

2 dashes Black Walnut Bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake for about thirty seconds, then strain into a coupe or martini glass.

The thing I love most about this movie is how it depicts the changing ideas of what it meant to be a woman in the 1970s. Alice is a complex character who’s forced to adapt into a society that still demeans women, yet now expects the world from them. She’s both cautionary tale and inspiration, and definitely someone I’d love to take a road trip with. Cue the Elton John. Cheers!

Classic Films · Musicals

Cabaret

Image: Cabaret, 1972

Every June, July, and August, The Paramount Theatre in Austin, TX does three months of revival programming and cranks their air conditioning down. Waaaaaaay down. Just like a rouged Joel Grey and his beautiful orchestra, my Summer Classic Film Series went out on a high note with 1972’s Cabaret (Disc/Download). A perfect finale to a season of stellar cinema, this musical masterpiece mirrors the joy and inclusivity of my favorite movie theater, as well as the frighting world outside its doors.

I’m a big fan of Bob Fosse as film director, and his trademark elements of sexy dance numbers, quick editing, and dreamy cinematography are a perfect match for this tale of the final hedonistic days of the Weimar Republic. Part of what makes Cabaret so emotionally engaging is that the audience understands what’s coming, even when the characters don’t. We know the slow creep of fascism is headed for Berlin, just as we know the days of public and private freedoms are numbered. Cabaret is proof that there have always been people who don’t conform to the traditional ideas of gender and sexuality, there have always been artists and intellectuals who push boundaries, and they will continue to exist, no matter how hard the intolerant try to erase them.

In the care of Fosse, this film often feels like a hallucination. Joel Grey floats through Berlin’s Kit Kat Klub like a nimble sprite welcoming us to the land of “anything goes”. Liza Minnelli as Sally Bowles sings her heart out, staring off into her own version of Oz, allowing the audience to feel like part of this hopeful dream. Let’s toast this magical place with a cocktail similar to one I enjoyed at the Paramount, the Poet’s Dream.

Poet’s Dream

1 oz Gin

1 oz Dry Vermouth

½ oz Bénédictine

2 dashes Orange Bitters

Lemon twist

Combine gin, vermouth, Bénédictine, and bitters in a shaker with ice. Stir to chill, then strain into a Nick & Nora glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Like its twenty-first century audience, the characters of Cabaret all seem to be hurtling toward a violent, uncertain end. We don’t know what will become of Sally, the Master of Ceremonies, and the Kit Kat Klub. We don’t know if Brian will be safe in England once the bombing starts. We don’t know if Fritz and Natalia will be sent to a concentration camp. And maybe that’s why Cabaret feels like such an essential film for these times. It’s a rallying cry to live it up while we can because nobody knows what the future holds. Cheers!

Dramas

Silkwood

Image credit: Silkwood, 1983

Happy Labor Day to all you Cinema Sips readers! Today, we celebrate the contributions of the American labor movement, and because I’m an elder Millennial raised on Newsies, I am very pro-labor. As workers across the country continue the fight to hold our 21st century robber barons accountable, and as nuclear energy makes a sudden comeback thanks to the regime’s inexplicable hatred of windmills (?!), there’s never been a better time to revisit Silkwood.

Watching the opening credits of this movie is like reaching into a mystery grab bag—you never know who’s going to pop up! Silkwood director Mike Nichols is someone I closely associate with smart, funny films like The Graduate, Working Girl, and The Birdcage, while screenwriter Nora Ephron is the queen of romantic comedies. Then there’s Kurt Russell as the sweet, shirtless, banjo-playing boyfriend of Meryl Streep and her unfortunate mullet. Finally, we have Cher as the lesbian roommate dating a funeral parlor beautician. This all sounds like the set-up to a comedy, and yet Silkwood is firmly in the melodramatic biopic genre. The roomies all work in a factory making nuclear fuel rods, where naturally, the conditions are terrible. Long hours, limited safety protocols, no vacation time, low pay, etc. After Karen Silkwood (Streep) is exposed to high levels of radiation and gets involved in her local labor union, she becomes someone the company wants to silence. Subjecting her to even worse conditions, and multiple “Silkwood showers” where they scrub her skin raw to remove trace amounts of radiation, Karen continues the fight until her last breath.

Most of my knowledge about nuclear energy is limited to gripping tales of meltdowns and catastrophes, like Chernobyl and Three Mile Island. Also, my husband makes ceramic glazes that look like molten nuclear waste, so the disaster narrative is heavily reinforced in our house. While you’re watching Silkwood, calm your anxiety with this Plutonium Daiquiri.

Plutonium Daiquiri

1 oz Overproof Rum

1 oz Lime Juice

¾ oz Yellow Chartreuse

¼ oz Falernum 

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake to chill, then strain into a Nick & Nora glass. Garnish with a dried lime wheel.

My financial advisor is convinced Uranium is about to take off, which is just one more example of America’s slow slide back to the 1950s, in all aspects of our lives. To be clear, I like the era’s dresses, houses, and movies, but the rest of it can stay in the past. As Silkwood proves: if you really want to make America great, listen to the workers. Listen to the scientists. Listen to the journalists. Don’t listen to the CEOs. Cheers!

Comedies

Sex and the City 2

Image: Sex and the City 2, 2010

The recent conclusion of And Just Like That… (the latest installment of the Sex and the City franchise) got me thinking about beloved characters in not-so-beloved situations. Like most people, I hate-watched this series week after week, hoping for glimpses of what I loved about the original TV show. Friendship. Fashion. Romance. Humor. Sadly, the show was so terrible, and such a betrayal of characters I’d come to know inside and out, that I couldn’t help but wonder… was it as terrible as Sex and the City 2 (Disc/Download)?

Before this week, my memories of the second SATC movie were scattered and vague. It had been fifteen years since I watched it in the theater, and sometimes I wondered if I dreamed the whole thing. I recalled camels, Samantha sweating a lot, and men leering at Charlotte’s bra-less nanny. Surely, there must have been more to it. So, Cosmo in hand, I gave it another shot. And reader, I’m here to tell you: it’s not that bad!!! On a sliding scale from, “She’s fashion roadkill!” to Seema’s two-episode deodorant arc, it falls somewhere around Charlotte’s marriage to Trey. Well intentioned, but ultimately not a slam dunk. For every lovely scene of four women laughing together and talking about their jobs and relationships, there’s also a weird cameo or plot point that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Liza Minnelli singing “All the Single Ladies” at a Gay Wedding (seriously, they go to painstaking efforts to call this wedding “gay” no less than twenty times) is somehow not even as bad as Carrie throwing a hissy fit because Big wants to watch classic films in bed. On second thought, maybe this woman deserved to be punched in the head by Aiden’s psychotic son.

I’ve featured Cosmopolitans on the blog before, but there are so many variations, it’s almost like there’s one for every iteration of this show! I spent all summer immersing myself in the gospel of Ina Garten, beginning with her famous Cosmo recipe from Barefoot Contessa Foolproof, and it’s become a new favorite. Therefore, while you’re watching Sex and the City 2, make it a whole lot more enjoyable with a Duke’s Cosmopolitan!

Duke’s Cosmopolitan

2 oz Fresh-squeezed lemon juice

2 oz Cointreau

3 ½ oz Cranberry juice

3 ½ oz Vodka

Dash of egg white

Combine ingredients in a shaker half-filled with ice. Shake for 30 seconds, then strain into a martini glass (serves 2).

I have a crazy conspiracy theory that the only reason And Just Like That… exists is because Michael Patrick King wanted to take a bit of the heat off Sex and the City 2. People (myself included!) trashed this movie so much when it came out. But now, by comparison, it seems almost good. Granted, a lot of elements had to come together for me to feel this way. Romantic comedies had to be wiped off the Hollywood release slate completely. Movies had to pretty much stop featuring designer clothing. Samantha had to flee to London, taking all the laughs with her. Carrie had to spend three years not smiling, writing a terrible novel about “the woman”. Miranda had to become an alcoholic, and Charlotte had to become a cartoon. I guess, looking back to the days before all this happened, it makes you realize we had it all. But now, at long last, she is done.

She is done.

She is done.