In A Collar and Tie (GQ Book 4), Henry and Martin go to the Venetian Bar and have a few drinks. They first try the Martinez and then the Gin Daisy.
All the mixed drinks they imbibe in the books are gin-based, and that is because I prefer gin drinks, and I knew I’d want to try whatever I had them drink. I’m not (yet) a whiskey/rye/bourbon fan (which is a shame, considering where I live), so I wasn’t going to want to invest in a bunch of amber liquor that I wouldn’t otherwise want to drink.
The Martinez is believed to be the precursor to the much-simpler/possibly more elegant Martini. It was probably developed in the 1860s, but first showed up in a cocktail recipe book in 1884.
I cannot dance. I was after the Mr. forever to take ballroom dance lessons with me, and when he finally relented, I turned out to be the worst dancer imaginable. Graceless, herky-jerky and unleadable. But I love the idea of wearing a ball gown and doing some formal, ritualistic dance, and obviously it’s the sort of thing Henry would love, too.
I am going to take a break from the Ganymede Quartet universe until probably early 2016, but I have a lot more stories I’d like to tell about the GQ characters. There are some stories I am going to insist on telling whether anyone says they’re interested or not, but I am curious which stories readers might think they want.
Henry and Martin have several opportunities throughout ACAT and AFC to eat Angels on Horseback as well as their devilish counterparts.
Angels on Horseback date from sometime in the 1880s, and I haven’t been able to find any satisfactory explanation for the name. No one seems to know. They are bacon-wrapped oysters frequently served on bits of toast, so nothing particularly angelic or equine about them.
Devils on Horseback are dates, often stuffed with cheese, wrapped in bacon, also served on toast. Again, where’s the devilry?
(In the books, they’re eating versions that include a little bed of toast, but I couldn’t find pictures of that, so perhaps the toast is out of favor in modern times?)
I included these particular canapes because they were indeed served frequently at the turn of the century, but mostly because I delighted in the names. Personally, I would not eat these because I’m a vegetarian, and even when I did eat meat, shellfish repulsed me, but I can see how the Devils might be delicious. Mmm, bacon. If I ever eat meat again, it will be bacon.
If you’ve ever had the opportunity to eat these, please let me know what you thought of them.
To Henry Blackwell, they represent freedom and choice. They don’t mean as much to Martin, but he wears them to the Metropolitan Ball, an exhilarating rite of passage for masters and slaves alike. At the party, drunk on champagne, Henry convinces Martin to act against his better judgment with devastating results.
Fearing Martin will be taken from him, Henry does what he believes necessary to keep Martin by his side, but Martin doesn’t agree with his methods, and they’re at odds when they most need to act in concert. Henry feels he’s been wronged, but can he find it in his heart to forgive Martin? Perhaps more importantly, does he deserve forgiveness himself?
This is the fourth and final installment in the Ganymede Quartet, continuing the story from A Willful Romantic (Ganymede Quartet Book 3).
There is a NSFW illustration behind this cut. I am hoping someone will know who drew it. If you’re wondering if it’s something you want to see, I will say that it involves an erect centaur and cunnilingus, and it is beautifully drawn.