Owl Meat's Tipsy Tuesdays: I'll never drink that again.
Oh man. Owl Meat's guest column brings back some rather nasty memories of bad tequila circa freshman year of college. I was soured on it for years. Here's Owl Meat:
Is there a drink that you over-indulged in years ago that still makes you queasy? Some youthful ill-advised binge splurge whose smell can still turn you green?
For me that blunder was Southern Comfort: peachy seductress, Kentucky succubus. Sweet, fruity, and powerful like a Skittles Crown Vic. In the folly of youth we gravitate toward alcohol that is sweet and strong – a formula for ignominious defeat. SoCo deserves a special place in the Bad Ideas Hall of Fame for me along with, well, you know who you are.
On a trip to the beach with two friends, I bought my first legal liquor after I crossed the border from Pennsylvania to Maryland. I don't recall what else we bought, but I remember dastardly SoCo, the Snidely
Smiley Whiplash of liquors.
In my mind it was a macho drink. Oh so wrong ...
More wrong was waking up on the motel bathroom floor with a lattice of tile marks on my face, a belly full of empty regret, and my friends banging on the door. Stooopid.
SoCo, it's some kind of fancy liquor, right?. Electric man-hooch, Kentucky courage, Dixie demon dew, a liquid torrent of antebellum testosterone-y quenchiness. A man's man drink or at least a man-boy's drink. That doesn't sound right.
What's the real dealio with SoCo? Great ghost of Jim Beam, the truth is ugly. Wikipedia declares, "Southern Comfort is a fruit, spice and whiskey flavored neutral grain spirit-based liqueur produced since 1874." Whiskey flavored liqueur? Aaaaaaaaa ... I say, I say, I say, I say, somethin' is afoul in the chicken coup.
Neutral grain spirit-based liqueur? That means that it's a flavored, sugary, diluted vodka ... a liqueur! Oh, the indignity, to be laid low by such a dainty poseur. I do declare, as Foghorn Leghorn might say, I feel defrauded, fraudulated, and enfrauded.
I refuse to believe that the first bottle of Beelzebooze to take me downtown to Tiletown was a girly bourbon imposter. Gimme the bottle, Kyle. Let's have a look see. Established 1874. Seventy proof, well below the norm of 86 proof for bourbon. The bottle claims it is "the New Orleans original" and yet it is, "Produced and bottled by the Southern Comfort Bottling Company, Louisville, Kentucky." It is actually bottled in St. Louis. Sweet sassy molassey, I do declare I have been hornswaggled. I say, I say, I say, ...
My motto since then is, "Yo, no mo SoCo, bro."
As I related this tale of whoa to others at the bar, they chimed in with their own youthful Waterloos, including Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, liebfraumilch, peppermint schnapps, and an improbable Chartreuse.
So what was your youthful downfall?
(Photo by Getty Images)