A Rose By Any Other Name

For every harsh Old Fashioned, with its' boozy outset and sugary finish, there is a drink much softer, more subtle.  Such a drink was born several days ago, and I've been at a loss to write about it because it's yet to be named.  Perhaps it's like one of T.S. Eliot's cats who knows its' name and loves to contemplate it quietly while the rest of us go about calling it Boots or Whiskers or something equally silly and insulting.    K. had enjoyed a variation of it in the past and remembered it fondly; we tweaked it together, not a lot, but enough.  Enough.  How I love that word. 

It's a simple cocktail, equal parts gin and apricot brandy, shaken with fresh lime juice and served over ice.  People call it La Havana.  Our twist was to use Hendrick's gin, and its' infusion of rose petals was, I believe, what turned the drink from merely sexy to downright seductive.  La Havana is just the wrong name for it; for the moment we are calling it the Gin Mellow, but it remains possible that its' real name has yet to be revealed.  I am open. 

The marketeers for Hendrick's call it an iconoclastic gin, preferred by 1 in 1000, and the bottle comes with a charming little tag that explains in some detail what a special person you are for choosing it.  Marketing mumbo jumbo aside, it is delicious.  Just when you're ready to call yourself a cool blue Bombay Sapphire gal, Hendrick's comes along and gives you a bouquet of roses!