South of the border tiki? Why the hell not? This one comes directly from the young brain of Mr. Martinez. A special he ran on my days off. It contains all his favorite ingredients.

Sunshower

1.5 oz. Rooster Rojo Pineapple Añejo

1 oz. Fresh Lime Juice

.5 oz. Orange Curaçao

.5 oz. Cachaça

.5 oz. Green Almond Amazake Orgeat

.25 oz. Mandoquat Syrup

1 Dash Shio Koji

The whiz kid is pulling out all the stops for this Mai Tai variation. He likes the funk, he likes umami. We’ve got plenty here.

The name Sunshower came from a song running through his head. The band is called Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band. I’d never heard of them. Apparently they were active in the late 70s. There’s also a stellar Chris Cornell song of the same name. I don’t think they’re related.

Anyway, a sunshower happens when it rains while the sun is shining which means there’s a rainbow somewhere. It’s a mystical phenomenon in many cultures and the folklore. In some places a sunshower could mean a witch is getting married, or a lioness is giving birth, or a jackal is marrying a wolf’s wife. It’s called “Ghost Rain” in Hawaii which would make a great cocktail name as well.

I’m trying to think of what the hell I was doing when I was Angel’s age. I certainly didn’t give a shit about cocktails, but the “cocktail revolution” hadn’t started yet either. People were still drinking Alabama Slammers and Cape Codders. An Old Fashioned was something in the back of a Mr. Boston drink manual you made with soda water and muddled granulated sugar. I think the closest thing to a cocktail I ever drank at that time was a “Stoli Raz and soda” and my friends gave me some real shit about ordering it. Back in those days I made real shit money in a kitchen and had a pretty bad attitude. I lived well, however. I had no bills and no responsibilities. I had a kitchen job and collected oodles of overtime. My rent was covered with less than one paycheck, but get this: the place where I worked, The Five Spice Cafe, paid us every Friday. Can you imagine? Places just simply don’t do this anymore. This type of life, at least in LA, doesn’t exist anymore for the middle class. Can you imagine being a cook and paying your rent so easily? Plus, I lived five or six blocks away from my job. I walked there everyday. Man oh man how times have changed.

I should try to write more about those days and that restaurant. I started but got sideways on it. I was there for five years. Hard to believe. Anyway…The old times will always shine brighter than the present in most cases. That’s the power of nostalgia.