You've seen the innards of my refrigerator. It's a rather intimate place, and I feel that revealing it brought us all a bit closer. In an effort to continue to deepen the relationship, I thought I'd make another personal spot public: my bar.
One thing that strikes me when I look at this photo is that nearly everything represented here was a gift. The Dali print above the bar was a gift from Paul's parents. One day a few years ago I came home to find the bar itself and the Riedel glasses in my lobby. They, along with two cases of wine, were a thank you gift from a very generous older gentleman from Queens. I cannot recall what I did to deserve it, but I'm fairly sure that whatever it was I was not deserving of quite such a generous gift. Now I stock the wine rack with gifts from dinner guests, as my own purchases from the Green Grape and Winesby.com tend not to sit around long enough to be racked.
Thanks to some thoughtful houseguests, we have a vaguely absurd collection of Scotch and Irish (and even one Japanese!) whiskeys, especially considering that we rarely indulge in it.
In Paul's younger days he quite enjoyed a glass of the amber hued tipple, so whenever an old friend from London or Manchester comes to visit they bring one of his favorites. And since he now is more of a beer drinker, they are consumed by visitors more often than by either of us. The collection make us seem like better hosts than we actually are.
Our rum collection is nearly as large as our whiskey collection. Most of these gorgeous specimens are gifts as well, but more often from Paul's clients, many of whom seem to end up in distilleries in Puerto Rico more often than the average person would, and kindly think of Paul while they are in the retail shop
We are always happy to accept such generosity, especially when it is so delicious!
And then there is my "kitchen" section of the bar. Brandies, cognacs, sherries, orange liqueur...all wonderfully drinkable but somehow they seem to end up in cakes, tarts, preserves and pies more often than they do in a glass. Half of them I have pried my wallet open and paid for, the rest are of uncertain origins...various gift bags and whatnot.
And lastly, we get to the "party" section of the bar. The inventory here is mainly due to Paul's shamelessly claiming an untouched rider from someone's dressing room ages ago. That and my sister's generosity with one of her favorite vodkas...Bison Grass.
Neither of us can figure out where the bottle of Dom came from. The champagne fairy maybe? Whatever the origins it is, in this hot, sultry weather, crying out to be enjoyed. And those generous folks who knowingly or unknowingly stocked our bar deserve a hearty toast!