Once again, we bring you Three Years Ago, an always special segment which celebrates this blog's continued longevity by re-posting posts from exactly three years ago. TODAY, a double header, starting with an advertisement for the day's Christmas party, "Bring Your Mug To-night", followed by the "Live Blogging from the Pomegranate Raspberry Mulled Wine & Whiskey 2007 Sendoff Festivus Eritrean Party". If you so desire, you could make the mulled wine recipe I printed in the first post (which I realize now is quite different from how I did it this year at my War on Christmas party; I suppose it evolves each year, this one had more fresh squeezed oranges, black currant juice, no poms or berries & less zest. I also used something like 14 bottles of two buck chuck.) Then, starting at 17.15 Pacific time, for the hardcore, relive the party minute by minute.
-The juice & zest from six large organic oranges.
-The juice squeezed from a dozen key limes
-The seeds from a large pomegranate
-Many cinnamon sticks
-Brown &/or unrefined white sugar, to taste
-More rum & more whiskey & more wine.
It's important, of course, not to let the cauldron ever come to a boil (which will decrease the alcohol content). Proselytes of the Mimosa's Witnesses will notice that Glühwein in an evening, festivus-time cousin to the Mimosa, replete with all the ingredients for secular transubstantiation. Check back to this website later, there may be Live Blogging. Here is from the original invite:
You can come earlier if you desire, & help me mull the wine, & there may be food.
The following costumes are discouraged:
-Condoleeza Rice Elf
-Aphid or other Sternorrhyncha
-Sen. Arlen Spekter (R-Penn.)
-Amos or any other minor Old Testament Prophet
While these would be allowed, of course, some creative variation would be appreciated this year.
Bringing a mug would assist in transporting the mulled wine from the large steaming pot to your mouth.
My apartment is conveniently located across from the Ashby BART station:
This is a picture of a Barack Obama butter sculpture, by Duffy Lyon, the famous "Butter Cow Lady" from Iowa fairs. She has endorsed the candidate.
5:15. I am alone & I wash my hands, & make my delicious Puffed Millet Cookies.
5:30. Liam calls from the recycled paper office & tells me he is on his way, bringing friends.
5:40. Six bottles of Two Buck Chuck Shiraz are opened & emptied into a large cauldron.
6:40. Liam & friends have come & gone back to the store for more cheese & more bread. The past hour has been spent slowly warming up the wine & adding many many delicious ingredients. The third movement of Gorecki's Third Symphony, coming on randomly, made the de-seeding of the pomegranate much more emotional than it might otherwise have been.
8:30. Ten people are here eating cookies, Stolen, pineapples, & drinking Liam's amazing Raspberry Whiskey (which has been fermenting for two months), & my mulled wine. Cheeks are beginning to look a bit flushed.
9:00. A brief interlude to watch Leopard Slug sex.
10:15. Virtue's hit the rum.
10:30. The roses on the table have been replaced by a Trivial Pursuit board.
11:00. Liam creepily correctly answers "Fifty-four" to the question "What was the number of Gunther Toody's patrol car?"
11:30. Sixty-six-point-six percent of the party up-&-runs out the door towards the penultimate BART train.
12:00 A.M. My upstairs neighbor makes an appearance with her husband, erroneously thinking they have interrupted something between me & the remaining guest. They drink a glass of Glühwein & borrow The Princess Bride.
12:45. I am alone with a few glasses of mulled wine to go. A few hours ago I rejuvenated it with dark rum, sugar, & limes. It's sticking to my teeth, but I'm determined to see the sun rise, so, Merry Festivus to all, & to all a googily opulent yarblat.