It is nice to know someone reads this column besides our parents. The best affirmations of that are the helpful drink suggestions from readers who are not related by blood but thanks anyway, Pops. Here's one we got a few months ago from Jeremy Strootman, and, judging from his e-mail and excellent recommendation, is a guy for whom we'd gladly buy a round:
"My wife and I had Sunday brunch at Square One Brewery in Lafayette Square. The bartender made a drink suggestion that was a perfect start to the day. ‘Beermosa': half Square One Spicy Blonde, half orange juice. Sounds disgusting, right? Wrong. It was great. It is not officially on the menu, but all of the employees are aware of it. Legend has it that its origins come from a camping trip as a hangover cure. The bartender said they experimented with all of the Square One beers and the Spicy Blonde was the best. Check it out."
We weren't sure this would ever come to fruition because A) we typically don't eat before 2 p.m., and B) after a long night out, even hearing the mention of alcohol makes our mouth unpleasantly watery and causes us to frantically look for the nearest toilet.
We'd mentioned this drink to our up-for-anything friend Leah, who, on her worst day, will pick up her phone after three rings instead of one. We gave ourselves 10:1 odds for actually following through with this the morning after the night of our high school reunion. But we woke up and felt fantastic or still drunk. So she picked us up at home and within minutes we're sitting in Square One's charming courtyard, the whipping wind carelessly tossing our napkins and inhibitions away.
We order the Beermosa, and the waitress gives us an approving smile. When it arrives, we eye it warily, with last night's escapades flooding back. It comes in a pint glass and looks rather pulpy and not easy to throw down the gullet. But it's one of the best drinks we've had in ages. Square One's Spicy Blonde is now out of season, so they use their Light Squared instead. It cuts the orange juice's acidity perfectly, and the pulp remains on the upper strata, like a liquid outermost layer of sedimentary rock, more a garnish than a chunky threat. We savor every sip of the Beermosa and seriously rethink our long-held anti-breakfast stance.
The day is sunny and gorgeous. We don't want to leave, so we convince our friend to split a bloody mary with us (also good), feeling a bit naughty for drinking so early in the day and enjoying it so much. We feel so good, in fact, that we come back home and crack open a beer. It's 2:42 p.m. on Sunday, and we hope that this one last beer will send us to the couch for an afternoon nap.
Is the Beermosa a legit hangover cure? We have no empirical evidence to back that up, but it's the closest we've ever come to one. And here at home, this beer tastes much better than it should. The nap can wait until after we finish this one last drink and use the bathroom right-side up rather than upside-down.