Monday, June 18, 2012

Tango Til They're Sore

Tango Til They're Sore by Tom Waits and Abigail Gullo

Buenos Aires, 1929 - 

A son of New Orleans is following his bliss.  First it was the railroad, then silver.  Now, in the spirit of of Americans before him, driven by manifest destiny and desire of the soul, he found himself in yet another port town wheeling and dealing and looking for a decent drink.  A piano plays in the corner and despite being slightly out of tune, the player makes magic with his instrument.  A horn player joins in lazy tango.  Couples tale the floor, moving in a way that brings back memories of love and desire.  The young man from New Orleans is struck by a sudden homesickness and a need to be home.  "Get me to New Orleans...", he whispers into the flickering flame of his candle.  His prayer would go unanswered if it were not for the bartender.  A tall redhead with a generous heart, she hears his plea and takes pity on the stranger in her bar, her home, her soul.  She concocts a potion to ease his pain and give him hope that he will see his blessed Vieux Carre again.  She slides it across the bar with a gentle touch to his face.  It is a gamble to make such promises.  But sometimes the medicine is better than the cure.

This is what she poured:

Tango Til They're Sore

1 1/2 oz Pineau des Charentes
3/4 oz Legendre Herbsaint Original 100 proof
3/4 oz Cointreau
3/4 oz lemon juice

Shake with ice, strain into a cocktail coup rimmed with Demerara sugar. 

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