My untested drink has been tested, and the results are in: it needs work.
The recipe was based on TS Eliot’s ‘The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock’: my favorite poem. The poem my kids ask me to read them at bed time, that haunts my mind constantly, that I recite like a madman while walking around the restaurant. An epic poem deserving an epic drink. It fell flat. In a way.
The drink worked. It didn’t convey the experience I wanted, but I’ll survive. I hope.
1.5 ounces bourbon (Eliot was born in the South, but grew up in England. I may replace the bourbon with gin)
1 ounce vanilla bean peach syrup (‘Do I dare to eat a peach?’)
A few dashes tincture of black tea (‘after tea and cakes and ices’)
A coffee spoon of marmalade (‘I have measured out my life in coffee spoons’, ‘After the cups, the marmalade, the tea’)
For total transparency, I didn’t have marmalade on hand, so proceed at your own risk on that one.
The drink was thick, and not as strong as expected, which I attribute to the peach liqueur, so I’ll tell you a story about myself: I forget every damn thing. I write things of importance down on little slips of receipt paper, put them in my pocket, then take them out at home and place them unceremoniously in the top drawer of the dresser. In the same fashion, I wrote down the steps I had taken to make said peach liqueur, and they now sleep soundly in that drawer, along with several dozen other recipes and ideas. That said, I had only used peach syrup in the drink. There was no alcohol in it. There is still no alcohol in it. The slip of paper saying ‘add alcohol to this on Monday’ is MIA, so I drank peach syrup. Not as strong as expected, and far more sweet than it should be, but still pretty tasty. The vanilla bean in the syrup made the drink taste like a cobbler with bourbon. Good, but not Prufrock good. Back to the drawing board.
Read the poem here: http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html