Many years ago, I was invited at a cocktail event. Trying my best to look like Rico Suave, I donned my nicest dress shirt, slapped on my wrinkle-free pants, spit-shined my shoes (no not actual spit- though there was a time when this is what I thought it meant), and moseyed on over (term I learned from watching Three's Company like a million times). As most drinkers do, I walked in and immediately made a beeline to the bar. Amaretto Sour is my go-to, and then I began perusing
