You didn't need all those brain cells, anyway.

The Caipirinha

Overview:
Every country or culture has a liquor that seemingly exists to only be consumed on a dare, by people with something to prove. 

The Turks, for instance, have a lovely drink called raki, which was created in the days of the Ottoman Empire.  The idea was, you would drink a lot of this stuff, which tastes like a combination of licorice candy and Prestone antifreeze, then take off across the desert and have your head chopped off by Peter O'Toole.  Or something like that.  I'm not real sure.

An old friend of mine is of Hungarian ancestry and is quite fond of a drink known as slivovitz, which is made from an all-natural mixture of fruits, botanicals, and the distilled souls of the dead.  The traditional toast when drinking slivovitz, according to him, translates as, "Good night, my friend," in their local dialect.  Whether or not this is true, I cannot say.  Or don't remember.

My adopted hometown of Kyoto is famous for several brands of shochu, which is made from sweet potatoes and explains why you see those great photos of salarymen passed out on the floor of the train station on the internet.

Even my people in the hills of southern Indiana are famous for the production and illicit sale of corn liquor, better known as "moonshine."  It is a myth that moonshine is sold in glass Mason jars, or clay jugs with "XXX" written on the side.  Most of my relatives in the distribution arm of the moonshine industry can't spell well enough to write "XXX," and most of the stuff I've had reacts badly with the metal lids of Mason jars.  Very.  Badly.

But only the Brazilians are batshit insane enough to make the "dare" drink part of their national culture and an everyday thing.  I used to think Brazil, with their liquor and awesome food and sex set to music (or musical sex, can't tell which and don't care), and their craziness about soccer and their relaxed attitudes towards porn and most everything else, would be a great place to live.

Then I watched City Of God, so now I'm over that.

But the Caiprinha, the national drink of Brazil, is a wowser.  I was first introduced to it in, of all places, Kyoto, where a friend of mine, Mori, runs a great little Brazilian cafe called Cafezinho.  I used to go there all the time for breakfast, and a fair bit of the time for lunch, too, to the point that there is a sandwich named after me there, no fooling.

Booze Requirements:
You need to go out and find some cachaça, the national liquor of Brazil.  Cachaçais a type of rum, although this is a bit like saying that the 1962 Studebaker Avanti is "a type of motor vehicle."  There are similarities, but that's about it.

By an amazing stroke of luck, the local vendor carries the same brand that I used to drink in Japan.  It's called, I believe, "51."  Oh, and if you're drinking with a friend, buy two bottles.  Lincoln and I killed one just on our own.

Mixers:
If you've read my other entries, you'll know that I'm not a real stickler for the "rules" of drink.  I say that so that you will understand the complete and utter emphasis I wish to place on the following statement:

YOU MUST HAVE FRESH LIMES.  LOTS OF THEM. 

Not kidding here, folks.  We're talking like, one lime per drink.  That might seem like a pain, but it's worth it.  Oh man, it is so worth it.

You also need some sugar (I've been using some organic sugar and it's very nice), and crushed ice.  Yes, crushed.  If you haven't got an ice-crusher, then put some ice cubes in a Zip-Loc bag, grab a hammer, and start whaling.  When I get rich, I'm going to just live in a really nice hotel, like the Olympic, so I can call down to room service and have fresh crushed ice sent up whenever I want.  That would be excellent.

Accoutrements:
I dunno.  A stirrer, if you want.  A hammer, if you haven't already got one.  Lincoln and I put one on the bar, so now it's the Drinks Hammer.

Preparation:
A bit similar to an Old Fashioned, yet not.

Put a spoonful (or a cube) of sugar into an Old Fashioned glass.

Cut the lime into eighths.  Or quarters.  It mostly just depends on how big you want the pieces of lime in your drink to be.

Squeeze the lime juice into the glass with the sugar and muddle until the sugar is dissolved.

Drop the lime bits in the glass and fill it with crushed ice.

Fill it to the top with Cachaça.

Pick out any Caetano Veloso CD that you have close to hand, pop it in the player, and enjoy.  (You may also substitute Sergio Mendes for Caetano Veloso.)

Assessment:
Lincoln seemed to be quite taken with the drink, to the point that we ended up skulling an entire fifth of what is essentially 100 proof sugarcane rum, over the course of maybe four hours.  The lime and the sugar make for a nice, tropical-style drink, and the kick of the cachaça keeps you standing upright, right to the point where you aren't.  Only the sort-of complicated preparation process, using knives to cut the limes and so forth, keeps you from drinking yourself even stupider.  (No, you can't make a pitcher of them at a go, like Margaritas.  The ice melts too quickly, and the citric acid from the limes burns off your fingerprints.  You can do them in pint mugs, though.)

Now if we could just get some of those Japanese-Brazilian girls to come over...