Yup. Slower than death last night and the regret monsters really climbed into my head. How did I end up here? What the hell am I going to do with the rest of my life? Am I going to be here until I’m 60 years old? For whatever reason I thought about my old roommate, Nate, from the very last time I lived in my hometown, Burlington, VT. I was 28. The two of us had been roomies for years. He worked as a mole for some investment firm type of place in town. A 9-5er whereas I was the shithead roommate who worked in restaurant kitchens and would often come home late at night drunk on a Tuesday.

Our rent was $800 for a big two bedroom located right downtown. A hop, skip, and jump from my second favorite bar, The Other Place, where a pint of good Vermont beer was $3. A real dive with real boozers. Our bedrooms were at opposite ends of the apartment. I only made $12 an hour at the time but was able to afford my rent, car, insurance, etc. and still have money left over to do whatever the hell I wanted.

Flash forward to the present. Nate stuck with the same job and is now partner at the firm. He owns a house, probably has a good amount of money in the bank, gets yearly raises. He put in his time, decades, and will now have some comfort from his middle years until retirement.

I have none of those things.

I can hear the punters now, “But dude, you have major life experiences. You’ve lived in so many cool cities and done so many cool things.” This is all true but when you get older you start to crave consistency and comfort, especially with your workplace. I make good money and actually love my job, I can’t imagine sitting in an office five days a week, but there’s no yearly reviews or for that matter yearly raises, bonuses, anything resembling any type of normal job situation. On a daily basis my family’s existence is dependent upon the generosity of others. When we start the night with a low cover count, a sense of dread rises through my body.

That’s how it is. But on a slow night like last night I try not to stew in my own woe. Instead, I work on creating new cocktails. It’s the best way to avoid thinking about the future and a way to artistically express myself through food and drink. Since stone fruit season seems far off, I just said fuck it and started thinking of new shit to put on the menu. So far, I’ve got four ideas. 1. A mezcal Negroni that actually tastes good. 2. Another strawberry cocktail. 3. Something with a bunch of these little delicious sun gold tomatoes. Maybe Triple Lindy 2.0? 4. Something with Mac Daddy, maybe a replacement for the Child Prodigy which I’m sort of bored with already.

Yes, it’s better to avoid the bad thoughts than to sit with them.

Wait…What is Mac Daddy? We’ve used this a bunch in the past, especially in the fan fave, Be Somebody, but it was always a massive pain in the ass to make because it was hard to strain. I’ve finally dialed it all in to make something that’s easy to strain without using a centrifuge. Here’s the recipe:

Macadamia Orgeat

2 cups whole macadamia nuts

1 cup koji rice

5 cups water

Immerse in water bath in vacuum bag or jar (I use a two quart jar) and heat at 135 degrees Fahrenheit for five hours. Once finished puree the whole deal with a hand blender and then let sit at room temperature, covered, for another 16 hours or so.

Strain through a chinois, then a superbag. Dehydrate the chunky scraps, they make a delicious, healthy snack. Once you have the nut milk, puree with equal parts by weight sugar. Voila.