From the Web Home of Joe Bob Briggs
The Mai Tai is our greatest American cocktail. It doesn't have an ounce of single-malt Braveheart wheat-juice in it. It has nothing to do with the latest cranapple-flavored Rooskie pseudo-vodka sloshed out of bottles by guys named Evan. The Mai Tai doesn't come from some candy-ass gun club lounge where racehorse owners talk about debentures in Singapore while sipping "juleps." A Mai Tai, properly made, is strong enough to put permanent fissures in a fat man's brain, yet delicate enough to make his girlfriend try to conjugate verbs with her thighs. The ingredients might come from the Caribbean. The South Pacific might have made it famous. But the Mai Tai comes from California and is so by-God American that any bartender who can't make it should be shot for treason. - served up by Oven @ 11:39 PM