The “Big Job” Cocktail
The words you never want to hear from your plumber, but they sure sound fun as a drink.
I love an old house with good bones. Our new house is old-ish, born two years before me, so I guess you could say it’s perimenopausal. Still raring to go, but needing some self-care from time to time.
Similar to an exhausted mother throwing her hands in the air and saying she’s leaving the country for a yoga retreat (Jesus, who does that? Me. I did it), our house raised the white flag a mere two weeks after we’d moved in. The flag was in the form of…some backups in the basement bathroom, shall we say, and we’ll leave it at that. The plumber was summoned, two days after waving goodbye after a sink repair on Knight Street, obviously. Long story short, while trees are lovely when they grow on your front lawn, their roots aren’t so lovely when they grow into your main sewer line.
“I knew as soon as I turned the corner on the street and saw that big tree in your yard what the problem was,” said James, one of the six plumbers I’m now on a first name basis with at Mr. Rooter.
“It’s gonna be a big job.”
James spoke like a 65-year-old tradesman who’s been around the block and a few sewer lines, even though he was born the year I graduated high school. When I told him Jude was showing an interest in plumbing after witnessing all the goings-on between Knight and our new digs, he told me it’d be a great job for the kid. James said he makes more money than anyone in his family who went to university. Which didn’t shock me after he said how much the “big job” would cost. More than Mom’s European yoga escape, let’s put it that way.
That evening, after we decided to do the grown-up thing and get the pipe relined instead of dealing with years of expensive misery whenever the roots grew back, I rummaged in the fridge and liquor cabinet to come up with a new cocktail to ease our nerves and to commemorate the first major plumbing event in our new house. This drink is called The Big Job. Or, for those of us who’ve just dropped the price of a quality used car on a home repair two weeks after moving in, Tree Root in the Shitpipe.
1 oz vodka
1 oz rhubarb vodka
1 oz apple vodka
2 oz rosemary thyme simple syrup
2 oz freshly squeezed blood orange juice
Splash of fizzy water (optional)
(For the simple syrup: In a medium saucepan, heat 1 cup of water, 1 cup of granulated sugar, one large sprig of fresh rosemary, and one large sprig of fresh thyme. Stir constantly, making sure sugar is completely dissolved in the water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer for 1 minute. Remove from heat, and let sit for 30 minutes before straining the syrup into a jar to cool completely in the fridge.)
In a cocktail shaker, or a mason jar with a cocktail shaker lid (I have one, they’re the bomb), pour in all ingredients with a handful of ice. Cover, shake, and strain into two glasses. Top each glass up with some fizzy water, or club soda, if desired. I like to use Bubly; pineapple or grape flavour is nice with this one.
Here’s my belated St. Patrick’s Day Irish blessing for you, chickens: May your spring be early, may you see your sidewalks before June, and may your tree roots never grow as deep as your shitpipe. xo
Oh my! Does it ever stop?!