Big city envy

I love my first few hours in a big city. Even after deciding on an area to park and walk around, I am overwhelmed by options. Whereas a Wednesday night in Spokane will often find me eating burritos and watching Hell’s Kitchen (I am not ashamed), in Seattle, there’s just…so…much. This last Wednesday night, we were right in the heart of it, eating at an African restaurant just off of Pike’s Place, paging through Seattle Weekly and The Stranger. Every page seemed to feature more than 10 things to do or places to go to – a class to attend, a new restaurant to try, a bunch of great shows you’d have to choose between on any given night. Looking out the window, people were on their way to somewhere, catching busses, hopping on bikes, walking briskly in their leggings and boots. We were about to go somewhere, too - to see Belle & Sebastian, the reason for our trip.

But the first place we went to after dinner was not to the show. We needed to try a cocktail called The Last Word. Oh, look! We can get one of those by just walking down the block. Aaaahh, big city. I love this convenience.

I wanted to go up to people in the bar and tell them how lucky they were. I wanted to say, “At this bar, you can ask for an old fashioned without worrying about the bartender screwing up the proportions!” or “Betcha didn’t even think about adding Red Bull to your cocktail, did you?” (When will people realize that Red Bull tastes like phlegm?) As we were sitting at the Zig Zag Café, drinking slowly to relish the special bevs we just never get in our town, I felt a bit like a country bumpkin, enamored with the glitz and magic of, say, electric lights.

It’s not that we live out in the country or don’t have access to anything, it just takes so much more effort. Driving four hours to see a show is just one example. If we want to drink another Last Word, we will be spending $100 on alcohol because we’ll have to make it ourselves, or come with a recipe and crossed fingers to one of the better-stocked bars (of which we do have a couple, thank goodness). The wonderful things we have, like co-ops, boutiques, and independent movie theaters, are often on the brink of closing (if not already closed), so we do what we can while we can.

But I have often thought that the reason I don’t eat dark chocolate every day is so that I have something to look forward to and appreciate all the more (and also so I don’t get fat). I’d like to think the same rule applies here. Sure, I realize that big city dwellers often love their big cities (please review the opening scene of Woody Allen’s Manhattan), and they probably won’t come to mine and think, “I wish we had this.” That is, until they check out how much I pay each month in rent. HA. So there, big city dwellers.

For those of you interested in requesting The Last Word at your next Seattle night on the town, or in spending a quarter of your monthly rent payment to make several of your own (the Chartreuse alone is nearly $40), here's how it goes:

1/2 oz. gin
1/2 oz. green Chartreuse
1/2 oz. maraschino liqueur
1/2 oz. fresh lime juice

Shake with ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass.