“Spike it, McDowell. Spike it good!”
As I wrote in the National Post last Saturday, it’s the practice of wise imbibers to avoid going out on St. Paddy’s Day. Crowded pubs, long waits for a pint, green foam hats: Call me a spoilsport, but it’s all pretty stupid and I’d rather just stay home and enjoy Irish stuff in peace.
Some options: On The Social last week, I shared a few Irishy drinks with the ladies; that was a good craic (on second thought, don’t say things are “a good craic” unless you’re actually Irish), and it was nice that I didn’t set Lainey Lui on fire. (I apologized in advance in case of mishap, and she just shrugged and said a burning incident would at least get her a day or two off. That’s how to be a good sport in show business.)
In the Post, I took a little closer focus on the black velvet (Champagne + stout = delicious), and threw in a recipe for a Tipperary cocktail. It’s bit of a rarity and odd, but tasty in a cough syrup sort of way.
Slainte, or whatever it is.