Thursday, April 15, 2010


My brother was ten when we went to Italy, and he remembers nothing of the experience - except the gingerino. Those suckers have old fashioned bottle caps, not twist-off tops, so once you open them you either have to drink it or pour it on the pavement. One relative gave the three of us two bottles each, setting them in a row and then attacking them, overzealous-bartender-style, snapping the little lids off before our startled eyes. And the thing is, the only flavour you could discern in those things, if you could call it flavour at that high concentration, was ginger. As advertised! I would not describe it as a sophisticated taste experience. You may as well drink your mother's vanilla extract from out of the baking cupboard. It goes down your tongue like a bowling ball covered in tacks.

The website suggests some fun-type mixes. To which I say NO. Do not sully the pineapple juice and vodka with this crap. It is like cough syrup without the numbing and possibly harmful drugs. I do not understand you, gingerino, but there are lots of other Italian things I don't understand too, so maybe it is related.

1 comment:

lunchbucket said...

This is my day to leave comments, apparently. I was watching Bat Roberto on Youtube without having read your article, like, 3 days ago and almost emailed you a link.