Drink?
Saturday, I was at a party at a friend's house, and they had a splendiferous, if slightly dated, drinks cabinet. I made a bunch of people snowballs, eighties-stylee. It's advocaat and lemonade, remember?
Anyway, it reminded me of this. My family are not really big drinkers. Jews rarely are. On my first date with my first boyfriend when I was about fourteen, he took me to a pub, and asked me what I wanted to drink. I had no idea. So I asked for the only drink I knew: advocaat and cherry brandy - reknowned as the favourite tipple of Jewish grandmas and great aunts everywhere. It's a sherry glass of advocaat with a drop of cherry brandy: it looks for all the world like a duck with a period. But what did I know?
The barman didn't, either. So he asked me what it was, and shmuzzed it up in a cocktail shaker till it was a murky brown. Luckily, my date didn't know from serious drinking either.
Postscript: we are not married. He is a troubleshooting manager at M&S and I have not had an advocaat with cherry brandy since.
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