Theoretically, there could an infinite amount of outcomes for a night. This is a thought that pervades my every night, pushing me to explore all the different manifestations of a night. When my cocktail mentor and dear friend Jeff Vitkun asked me to participate in a Bushwick Mixer tasting spree, I was enthused at the idea that my night had one and only outcome: getting black out drunk. We walked into the Johnson’s. We tasted a couple of cocktails, and then Jeff or Gustavo pointed out at the idea of tasting the Moscow Mule With A Deadly Kick. I was hesitant at first; Moscow Mules do not exactly excite me. But after a couple at The Johnson’s my memory was definitely served a deadly kick.
