In Great Spirits

It’s been told (and immortalized on Paul McCartney’s classic album "Band on the Run") that Picasso’s last words were, “Drink to me, drink to my health. You know I can’t drink anymore.”

So as I partake in a fat glass of IMT (Infinite Monkey Theorem) Albarino, please to enjoy a roundup of some of the best cocktails and concoctions found this year.

You don’t have to know me five minutes to know my drink of choice is the dirty bird, a vodka dirty martini, preferably Grey Goose (although Ketel will do) and always blue cheese stuffed colossal olives (why not a snack with your bev?). Recently though I stumbled upon a martini of the gin variety that shook me right with local (and best) Leopold Bros. gin, sweet vermouth and rosemary, garnished with two blue cheese olives pierced through with a fresh rosemary twig. Fruity and sweet, earthy like your soul once you push back from the crap of reality. Get your own at Sean Kelly's Lohi Steakbar. They’ve even named it and claimed it thusly, the Steakbar Martini.

Around a fire pit, surrounded by serious beer heads carrying secretive coolers, I was passed and had my first taste of Dry Dock Brewing Company's Apricot Ale. The snobs laughed at its girly bouquet, pink hue and zingy zip of acid on the tongue. Meaning I got most of the bomber all to myself. A summer seasonal beer from this Aurora, Colorado microbrewer, I pee a little in excitement when I spot the (now) rare and odd bottle in a larger store cooler in winter, most recently last weekend courtesy of Chambers Wine & Liquors, also in Aurora. While there, picked up a bottle of IMT Blind Watchmaker for the ridiculous sale price (don’t tell Ben Parsons) of $16. Aurora? Who knew. I may relocate for simplicity and drunks sake. That and floor plans huge for the cash. Can you say sunken living room and spiral-staircase, Scarlett?

You like whiskey? I like whiskey. I love Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey. It’s become so popular quantities are limited for the next few years as batches age in barrels; it's the new Air Jordon of spirits. So during dinner out at the stylish Q's Restaurant in Boulder imagine my delight to hear the couple a couple tables over order up a couple Old Fashioned. Q does it right and right on, not just curling a piece of orange peel into whiskey, bitters and sugar cube, but muddling it completely through leaving empty rounds of tiny cute orange rinds and floaty tender pulp. Over ice, absolute perfection.

Got to give it up for the sunshine bubbly juice, a.k.a. the Mimosa served over Sunday brunch at Colterra. Hemmed, hawed and thought it over hard before ordering with my eggs. I'm more Screwdriver, a serious Lithuanian drinker, and juice-plus-champers often comes too sweet for my taste; the sorority girl panty dropper. But I happily downed two. Fresh juice right from the source and a light and dry champagne. Not the Ballatore variety, I'm thinking Moet & Chandon at worst, Piper at best.

As I tuck into a fresh bottle of IMT Rosé (chilled) I toast 2012 fat, mostly happy and a little drunk.

I'll be waiting for you there.