Last night I was very unhappy. The previous day I had driven five hundred miles to the heart of Luxembourg and back to pick up, urgently, a load of Ornellaia and, by the by, a little present for myself: two rather beautiful Riedel Sommelier Martini glasses.
To celebrate my largesse I mixed together a rather fine Negroni in the shaker and drank proudly my apéritif. Strictly speaking a Negroni is neither made in a shaker nor served in a martini glass, but I was over-excited.
Sated, satisfied and fulfilled I washed my glass and started to dry. Then disaster struck, as I changed hads to dry the base the stem snapped, or I snapped the stem. I don’t know which, but my beautiful martini glass was no more, and now like Highlander, there is only one.
I suppose it’s rather pathetic really, but I was so upset it woke me up at four am! I know that the destiny of any glass is to be broken, but just one cocktail.? ‘Tis a mean and worrisome state, I don’t know if I dare make another tonight.
It’s two minutes to six, perhaps I’ll have more luck with a Gin and French. It’s time to decide.