There are times I’m inclined to take risks with my cocktail order. I’ll belly up to the bar, mull over the hyper-seasonal craft cocktail menu for an undue length of time, and happily subject my palate (and $10-15 of hard-earned cash) to the keep’s latest fat-washed, tincture-atomized, smoked ice cube creation. Those are nights I want to be fully present and cerebral about my drinking. Those are the nights I want to weigh the merits and drawbacks of the bartender’s artistic choices. They are nights I am willing to take a gamble on satisfaction in favor of experiencing something new.
