Black Manhattan – Dark, Mysterious Averna!

I have been alternately sipping and staring into this deep, brooding, dark Black Manhattan cocktail for 30 minutes now and yet I still don’t know what I want to say about it. Its gravity pulls in all my thoughts and will not let any of them escape.

This deep, dark drink has got to be a metaphor for something going on in my life right now. I just can’t think of what it is as even that thought cannot escape its grasp. And it was all too easy! To make this Black Manhattan all I had to do is substitute Averna, a thick, sweet Italian amaro liqueur (with great bitter herbal notes ) for the sweet vermouth called for in a classic Manhattan. This simple switcheroo alters the cocktail’s usual smooth character and takes it towards a deeper, darker, more complex place.

Oh how I wish all outputs from the cannibalization of classic cocktail recipes with ingredient modifications would bring about results like this! I’m talking about you vodka martini.  Blech. Yeah, ok, even though some modified cocktail versions are good,  the classics are classics for a reason and I will always prefer them — tonight’s tipple however, all dressed up in its black mourning clothes, has a particular meaning for me tonight. If only it would let me know it.

These last few weeks have been particularly tough ones so despite my natural inclination towards the positive and cheerful, my mood lately has been as dark with sadness as this cocktail has been made dark in color with its combination of Averna and bourbon.

In this last month we said goodbye to a dear friend, her tenacious fight to hang onto a life that had already decided to reject her had finally ended.  Shortly thereafter news arrived that another good friend had voluntarily given his life away. Two funerals in the same week.  I haven’t attended funerals so back-to-back since… well, that time in the 80’s when gay funerals were the new brunch.

Oh gosh!  Please don’t fret about me!  Lest this post get even more maudlin than I had intended,  let me assure you that I find it perfectly acceptable to feel sad.  It’s just as much a part of life as laughter.  I accept this without question.  Please don’t be concerned. Without sadness, laughter just wouldn’t be as joyful, and I wouldn’t have the same warm feeling of gratitude that always follows it.  It is possible to feel two emotions at once — one will make the other more acute… before it cures it.

So if you don’t mind, please don’t ask me to ‘snap out of it’ or ‘go outside and exercise’. These are distractions and they never cure my brand sadness.  Whatever you do don’t tell me to smile because I don’t feel like it, yet. I’ll be just fine. This Black Manhattan will see to that. You’ll see. Of course alcohol (if used responsibly) can help too.

Which leads me once again back to the Black Manhattan…

Truthfully, if I am to be honest with you, it leads me back to my second Black Manhattan.  So despite my earlier uncertainty regarding what it was I wanted to tell you about this drink, I know now I can at least say unequivocally that this drink is worth a second go-round. Perhaps you’ve already realized that if you make it to the end of my post you could find out if the Black Manhattan will merit a third?  (By the time anyone chooses a third cocktail he or she is no longer choosing it for reasons of its taste alone. Can we all agree on that?

In the meantime, warranting a second is still something of an achievement, at any rate.

G’night. (Is it hot in here?)

Black Manhattan

Draw the drapes, turn off the lights, and enjoy the darkness.