Culinary Dorm Corner: Cocktails!!!!!!

How else are we supposed to get our daily fruit requirement?

NOTICE: Just as the Evanston City Council assumes that all Twitter accounts are real, here at Sherman Ave we assume that all of our readers are responsible drinkers who are of legal age.

So in true Sherman Ave fashion, I’m writing this article as I’m five standard drinks in on St. Patrick’s day, which I think everyone can agree is the most heinous of holidays. Or rather, Alco-holidays. Let’s be real, I’m a drunk mess right now. I’m listening to Adele on full volume while I chug hard cider.

Did I mention I’m a ¼ Irish? No? Well, that and the 3/8 Mexican should be swag enough for me to get drunk any day of the week, you judgmental fucks.

Anyway, You wanna make some tasty c*cktails, eh? (are we Canadian now? Idk, bro)

So LET’S GET STARTED:

APPLE FUCKING PIE A LA MODE SHOOTER
This shit is so good. In the span of 24 hours I’ve made about 4 or 5, and consumed two myself. Regrets? NONE. This tasty little bitch will go down smoother than that Senior frat boy last Saturday.

½ shot apple pie liqueur (EV1 carries a brand called Anthony’s Own. It’s $16.99 a bottle, 25% alc. By volume. QUALITY PURCHASE FOLKS)
½ shot baily’s irish cream. (DOES IT MATTER HOW MUCH THIS COSTS? THIS IS GLORY IN A BOTTLE. I DRINK THIS LIKE WATER DAILY.)
Dash of cinnamon. (BECAUSE WE GET FANCY)

Try to throw it back because even though the liqueur is sweet, you don’t want the alcohol to curdle the cream.

Ruin yet another childhood memory with alcohol!

CIDER SLING
Typically a sling is citrus based, but the tartness of granny smith apple cider will totally suffice, especially if you use the gin I recommend because it doesn’t have a juniper berry base, which makes most gins spicier/more bitter.

½ shot New Amsterdam gin, or other gin if you like sticking it to the man (ME)
1 shot apple/apple pie liqueur
6 oz (half bottle) hard cider (I like Kelly’s a lot, but Woodchuck is sold by EV1, so it’s what I’m using)
1 or 2 oz ginger ale

This shit is a good drink if you want to get drunk but don’t want to be forced into getting a new drink every second. It’s tasty, it’s apple-y and that’s all that counts for me right now. I AM DRINKING ONE OF THESE RIGHT NOW, THAT SHOULD TELL YOU HOW GOOD IT IS.

CHERRY WHISKEY
I don’t even know if there’s some nasty cherry whiskey out there, considering we’ve got cherry liqueur, brandy, vodka, etc, but this’ll fit the bill and go down really smooth. Enough of these and you’ll break whatever holiday it is. Believe me, Sherman Ave broke MLK Day on these.

1 shot of HONEY whiskey (it has to be honey, and I prefer Jack Daniels)
Splash of gold rum
2 maraschino cherries
A bigger splash of the juice from the cherry jar
5 to 6 oz. coke

Be careful with these, please. The last time I imbibed these bad boys my roommate was not happy with their contents being deposited on my bed while I slept on the floor. Then I stole a friend’s camera and had an 11 image photo shoot by myself with a fire extinguisher. This shit is dangerous.

Goes great with skiing, family vacations, and the existential coldness of winter quarter.

CHOCOLATE SURPRISE
The surprise is how drunk you get, you fuck. HAPPY HOLIDAYS? Anyway, this is gonna be a great thing to sip on and get progressively more slutty. I hold no responsibility for your hookups.

1 shot crème de cacao
1 shot bailey’s
1 shot Kahlua
5 oz. rosemary simple syrup (boil 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water, take off heat and throw in a bunch of rosemary and let cool. Take out rosemary and then voila! syrup)
1 shot cream/whole milk.

Pour this over ice. Nothing is better than this, I swear. I’m sorry I can type so well when I’m drunk guys, but really. I made this based on an ice cream flavor at the Bent Spoon in Princeton, NJ, and that shit was really tasty so yeah… This happened.

ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy these drinks. Please for the love of all that is holy, do NOT do all of these drinks at once, because you’ll will end up flatter than a opossum crossing I-95. #southernjoke. OH WELL. HAPPY SPRING BREAK!

The Five Flavors of Motherfucker

Indulge your synesthesia. We’re categorizing the most unpalatable people.

An industrial-size salty motherfucker

Salty Motherfuckers
Let me take you back to the diving board at your local swimming pool. You’d jump, swim to the ladder or the edge, climb out, and then get in line, jump, swim, climb, repeat. There’d be a pretty regular line that formed. But then once, you’d do the sweetest cannonbellywatermelopener dive known to mankind — maybe you’d take a little longer getting out of the water, or you’d stop to bask in compliments from your mom. This is when the Motherfucker would strike. You’d just be getting out of the water when out of the corner of your eye you’d see the kid that jumped in after you swimming to the edge with the urgency of the Space Race, yanking himself out of the water, and powerwalking (or even running, the bastard!) with one greedy eye on YOUR SPOT in line, and the other greedy eye checking back to see if you were gonna try and polite-fight him for it.

As if that weren’t bad enough, if he stole your spot, he’d get on the board and spend ten minutes debating what kind of jump to do with his friends (who were probably hanging on the lane line), while inside you’re screaming, “Accept that any way you flip is going to end up as a belly flop, before I come up there and push you off!” At Northwestern, you can identify these bitchwaffles pulling the same maneuver in the stir-fry or hot cookie bar line. This is why they are Salty Motherfuckers: pouring salt onto a wound is not really dangerous in the long term, but it’s pretty damn agonizing at the time. It makes you want to throw that aforementioned metaphorical salt back into their beady eyes, because it is as harmlessly obnoxious as the Salty Motherfucker.

Even her hair-tests came back positive for motherfucker

Savory Motherfuckers
Hey, remember when Oprah Winfrey had a hissy fit because a closed store wouldn’t reopen for her? Remember when Oprah Winfrey took credit for giving away shit that wasn’t hers? Remember when Oprah Winfrey existed? Yeah. Believe it or not, there are people so pampered that they will throw a tantrum when the Pier1 cashier can’t cater to their every whim by returning an item without a receipt or after 90 days. These are the snarky suburban moms who turn PTA meetings into Attack of the Martyrs Episode III because Little Johnny Do-No-Wrong has excessive allergies, and therefore clearly nobody’s parents should be allowed to bring in homemade birthday cakes. Note to readers: if you are someone who complains about the preparation of truffle shrooms at five-star restaurants or demands compensation for the terrible injuries caused by eating subpar lobster, please put yourself down, because you are irreparably broken and probably in constant pain from your delicate sensitivities. I’d suggest that we make astronomically high maintenance a crime, but then we’d have to arrest them and listen to them complain that their cell wasn’t padded enough.

Proceed with caution, as it can be very difficult to discern the difference between motherfuckers and simple guidos

Sour Motherfuckers
They’re assholes and they know it. Anyone who is inexplicably, selfishly, mercilessly malicious should have both their tongues and their genitals removed without anesthesia. Humans have hearts. If you suck as a human being, you do not deserve to contribute to the gene pool for fear that your children will grow up to be the kind of Motherfucker that does terrible things to people without even having to rationalize them. Examples of Sour Motherfucking include using someone who cares about you, sabotaging someone’s lab, lying about an STD, ruining others’ reputations, and touching children where they should not be touched. To be clear: Tucker Max’s shocking shenanigans usually fall under the category of harmlessly unpleasant Salty Motherfucker. The despicable bitch that somehow wound up in your sorority who ran for Recruitment Chair so she could put the freshmen down is a Sour Motherfucker. It’s all about the motives.

Ross Packingham's image of the perfect woman

Sweet Motherfuckers
These are the breed of superhumans whose perfection we will never attain and therefore must criticize. They are effortlessly attractive, intelligent, accomplished, athletic, stylish, polished, and well-spoken. They do not trip over their words. They do not trip over anything. They are the parents who jog with strollers containing the adorably well-trained future polite society of Icelandic Snow Owl benefits. And you know they’re probably good in bed. Arguably the worst Motherfucker, these cuntmuffins won’t even give you the decency of visibly fucking you over so you can hate them. If you express your certainty that there is something “off” about them (the possibility that they are actually a robot), you will almost certainly be met with shock from the believers in the tenured reputation of the android, who will shun you as either insane or jealous. Sweet Motherfuckers are more like aspartame than sugar: fake, carcinogenic, and typically lacking in caloric content. Breathe, fellow fuckups of the world: at least we’re more idiosyncratic.

This Evanston Councilman hasn't smiled in over 17 years

Bitter Motherfuckers
The Evanston City Council says one of their most frequently asked questions is: “What’s up your ass?” Since they cannot diagnose it themselves, Sherman Avenue will: They are Bitter Motherfuckers, the species of Motherfucker so filled with regret that the only thing left for them to do is to ensure that everyone else ends up unhappier than Edward Scissorhands trying to masturbate; that is to say, as unhappy as they are. But it’s not limited to the former premed/prelaw students who resent that their focus and initiative (translation: staunch denial of their own humanity) during their college days allowed them a very comfortable life in WASP’s nests. Other Bitter Motherfuckers include Denny’s waiters, certain unsuccessful starving artists, and (understandably) anyone working in retail on Black Friday. The best way to deal with these Motherfuckers is to maintain high levels of happiness in spite of their best efforts. Yes, it’s hard to do when they’re busy removing kids’ rights to trick-or-treat, cohabitate like sardines, or party like it’s Y2K. But there is no better revenge than the confidence of knowing you have a hopeful future and a pleasant present. Schadenfreude, bitches.

Ask not what heinousness can do for you. Ask what you can do for your heinousness.