My newest cocktail invention
I call it “the Viking”: essentially, it’s a premium vodka martini, moderately dirty, with a hunk of wine-marinated herring where the olives normally go. No other garnish is necessary. Unless you happen to have a helmet with horns.
Incidentally, in certain sections of New York or San Francisco I fully expect some wag to replace the vodka with gin and call the revision either “the Little Dutch Boy” or “My Finger in the Dyke.”
— Which, let’s be honest here, is really just post-modern libational plagiarism disguised as subcultural authenticity.
But you all will know the truth. And that’s what matters.