OK, I know I’m late.  I’ve been on the job hunt, at a wedding in GA, and doing some writing for stuff that actually puts ink to paper (go figure).  Since you can already head over to Stevi’s roundup at Two at the Most I’ll save you the whole “I want to tell you why I like tasty, but pedestrian drinks even though I pretend to be a cocktail nerd” schpeil.

Like most of this month’s participants, I’ve got a bunch of drinks I can only have in the dark of night, with shaker and bottles as my only company in the farthest corner of my closet.  But the one that truly brings the shame is candy in a glass.  This isn’t good candy; those $12 bon bons.  I’m talking pure sugar.  As illicit as candy cigarettes and as tooth-jarring as one of those three-foot tubes of pixie stick.

Like everything else I wish could be buried deep beneath my conscious, my first encounter with the Amaretto Sour came in the basement of my college frat house.  DU was a great house.  We had the scholars and athletes, cool kids and overachievers.  It was eclectic and edgy and whitewashed, middle-class suburbia all in the same three-story package.  The only downside was our house was the farthest off campus.

On an 80% Greek school, there were open frat parties every weekend.  Our edge over competition was simple: we offered “mixed drinks” to girls.  On Saturday nights, the DU basement was my field of dreams: we built it and they came.

Our mixed drinks weren’t exactly the type Charles Baker would have stumbled into Greencastle for.  While the actives hobnobbed with stumbling Thetas and tipsy Pi Phis, the pledges slung blank and blanks.  Cranberry Vodka’s chased rum and Cokes.  On special nights we would even whip up some Buttery Nipples (that wonderful buttershots and discount Irish cream combination).  But the drink that ruled the roost was definitely the Amaretto Sour.

It’s not a fancy drink.  The Amaretto Sour is exactly as the name says.  Take a cup,dump in some ice, fill it a third of the way with the amaretto of your choice, and then top it off with the cheapest, neon sour mix you can find.

I haven’t mixed this liquid candy in years.  But I wonder if you can make it any better?  First off, get rid of the sour mix.  We all know fresh lemon juice works better anyway.  For this one, I don’t recommend creating a true fresh sour mix.  The amaretto is sweet enough as it is, no need for extra sugar.

For me, amaretto is as amaretto does.  I honestly can’t tell much of a difference in Mr. Boston or Disorono.  Personally, I’ve been using a homemade amaretto I derived from the Top Secret Recipes cookbook (my other guilty pleasure).  I wonder if an orgeat syrup would make it any better.  Amaretto and lemon isn’t exactly going to set the cocktail world on fire.

Instead, try this.

1.5 oz whiskey

juice of 1/2 lemon

0.5 oz simple syrup

1/2 oz. Orgeat Syrup

Mix this sucker up over ice in a short glass.  Garnish with a cherry or twist if you must.

I’m not sure a Whiskey Sour variation is any less of a guilty please for a straight man in his mid-20’s but it get’s the job done.  I doubt I’ll whip up too many more of these guys.  If I want to relive the glory days, I’ll just grab my amaretto, walk deep into my closet, and mix a candy-necklace nectar by the radioactive glow of sour mix.