For a good time call . . . your mom

And i mean that in the most g-rated of ways. My mom was the ultimate of the “Greats”

generation. Having childhood memories of world war II and every subsequent military

action thereafter, she grew up with a literal thirst for life and liberty and lived that out in

great abundance with my dad. Those two were notorious for their holiday parties, their

procreation, and their great humor. Not only did they dress like bunnies for halloween

( they had nine kids and weren’t about to pretend how that happened) but they’d d silly

things like set each and every clock in the house ahead by two hours every New Year’s

Eve so that the kids would bang pots and pans at 10pm and they could ring in the New

Year together, alone every December 31st. How they were able to get away with this

after we were old enough to own a watch I will never know, but they cherised their alone

time and would go to great lengths to create it in a house full of nine half-wild, Irish kids.

My mom was the master of the cocktail. And by that I mean she could drink every

Manhattan my dad put in front of her. His special trick was to stir each cocktail with his

finger so he could get a good taste, strictly for quality control purposes, of course. While

my dad passed away when we were all fairly young, my mom rose to the occasion and

passed down dad’s manhattan recipe to us. For a woman that had never mixed a drink

in her life, she builds a pretty mean Manhattan a la Fred Floyd. Here’s a tweak on my

dad’s famous manhattan, finger stir optional. So the next time your recipe well runs dry,

call your mom. You might be surprised what drinks and what stories the woman has to


Floyd Manhattan

2 oz. Rye

3/4 oz. Sweet Vermouth (like Carpano Antica)

2 dashes of Angostura bitter

2 dashes of Orange bitters

1 Luxardo cherry

Tip: The Orange bitters that you won’t normally find in a manhattan softens the rye but

heightens the vermouth, giving a cocktail this is big but easy to drink. It’s a great after

dinner drink alone but also accompanies a peach cobbler like nobody’s business.