Drink Up: 50 / 49 / Lime

​Drink recipe for the 50/49/Lime

As a man who enjoys his drink from time to time, I've had a share. I've been through the marathons and I've done the ground work. Specialty, blended, traditional, simple mix. With that, I've prepared this recipe for you, to be used in times when you don't know what to pour and in times when you do.

As a rum drinker, if you're not sipping neatly on one of the finer breeds, you're likely to want to mix it, depending on how numb you are at the time.

What This Post Isn't Suggesting...

Rum and coke or any sugary soda drink is years behind you. Not because you're too sophisticated. God no, I'd never suppose something like that. More so, you just can't take the damned sugar anymore. It's too much. You don't remember exactly when it happened, but you're sure you can remember polishing off a 2L Coke through the night, mixing it with whatever bottle that had a spout. Those days are gone.

Blended drinks, who needs that noise?

Specialty mixes, okay. You can get behind some of the finer rum cocktails from time to time. When you prepare them on your own, it takes a spark of motivation to get everything prepped, but mostly you ask yourself, "Who has the time or the inclination?" Out at the bar, at $10-13 for an ounce of liquor mixed in with some citrus rind you wonder, "Who can do that in good conscience? "

So what then?

The 50 / 49 / Lime. Now we're talking. It's easy to make, refreshing and as thick as you can pour one without getting your eyes wet. What is the 50/49/Lime, you ask? Traditionally, I've always made it with a mid level rum like Matusalem Classico, Cruzan, Havan Club Añejo or some of the aged Flor de Caña varieties.

I wouldn't attempt this with that Bacardi swill or well booze, unless you're so far gone you won't notice the sharp taste of ethanol. And good god, man, never white rum.

How to make the 50 / 49 / Lime

  1. Throw some rocks in a glass. The cubes pictured below were prepped with mint leaves which is something the lady likes to do. I approve. Mint is delicious.
  2. Pour it to the best of your ability, filling 50% of the glass with your rum of choice. This will become trickier as the evening (afternoon?) progresses.
  3. Top it up 49% with S. Pellegrino sparkling water. Or, as pictured below, for a little extra magic is my favourite non-alcoholic drink around: Aranciata. I also would stock up on Pellegrino's Pompelmo flavour if I were you.
  4. For the final 1%, squeeze in your lime and toss that wedge over your right shoulder, drink up and don't look back.

Now enjoy, and let me know if you have your own combo of the 50 / 49 / Lime that you favour.

Drink up, me hearties!

​The 50/49/Lime
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Strange Encounters in the Michoacán

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eric-greene-surfing-mexico.jpg

by Eric Greene

It was a cold morning. Much colder than it should’ve been. You could tell that it would be a hot day, but the sun was yet to come over the mountains, so the sea remained a cold black from the night with a biting offshore wind.

I was travelling alone and had been in Mexico’s Michoacán state for about a week. I hadn’t met another gringo in this particular spot. There were already a handful of early-rising surfers in the lineup and the vibe was quiet and relaxed. Perhaps the rest of the crowd was as cold as I was and still waking up. I caught a smaller inside wave and rode it all the way into shore. I was loosening up my legs, but also milking a long ride in to enjoy the comfort of being above the frigid water for those few extra seconds. I kicked out to paddle back to the point and was joined by another surfer I took to be local heading out from shore. 

“Goodmorning!” he said to me, grinning keenly.

“Buenos dias,” I replied.

“De dónde eres?” he asked.

“Canada,” I answered.

“Oh, I love Canada!” he declared in smooth English, still grinning. “I did studies in Vancouver!”

And thus, our long conversation began. You know how it goes… the name game of all the places, things, and people you mutually share with someone random you meet on the road. This particular young man was from Guadalajara and out on the coast for the weekend to surf. He was a novice surfer, but possessed that passion for waves that brought him on the long bus ride from his city every weekend.

“I had a job while I studied,” he continued as we sat together between sets. “It was at the girlie bar, near Hasting Street. How do you say, for stripping?’”

“Oh, yeah,” I laughed. “I know it. That seedy strip club on the Downtown East Side.”

“Yes!” my new friend exclaimed. “My boss, the owner, was so nice. He gave me an old Jeep while I was living there. I cleaned the bar at night shift and studied in the daytime. After some time he gave me new job that was underground from the bar. I was making those pills of drugs for him. How do you call it? Ecstasy?”

“Yeah, I believe it’s called ecstasy,” I answered, very entertained.

“Yes. It was a very good job. I love Vancouver.”

We shared some more waves and small talk in the lineup throughout that day. He was a really nice and excited little guy. The following day, he was back on the bus to Guadalajara and I never saw him again. But I’ll always remember the guy I met in the lineup at a remote Mexican point break who worked at a shady East Side strip joint while he was studying English in Canada and got promoted to pressing ecstasy pills in the basement.

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Slowcoustic Produces a Goldmine of J. Tillman Covers

Before we get to the meat of the post, let's first address the photo above. One of my dearest pals, Tom Nugent happens to take some damned fine photos of people doing their rock 'n roll thing. This one here is a favourite of mine. Take a good look at that animal and you can get an appreciation for what's going on at that show. It's this one perfect moment of a man giving his all to a crowd, under a spotlight and microscope. The photo was taken at a recent show in Vancouver at The Commodore while J. Tillman now tours as Father John Misty. Say thanks to Tom for that little moment. Thanks, Tom.

And, Begin...

There's a music blog I frequent for new and old folk gems, maybe you go there too. It's called Slowcoustic and has archives back to 2008, so if you're looking for music from the, "Unhurried side of Americana/Alt-Country/Folk/Indie/Down-Tempo music", this is the place to go, and you have a lot of digging to do.

For all you J. Tillman fans, or all fans of folk in general, Slowcoustic has done you a favour and helped produce a J. Tillman collection of songs alongside some real fine musicians. The stack of songs is titled, Long May You Run, J. Tillman Revisited. The album also pulls its look from Tillman's own Long May You Run, a matchbook styled cover, limited run album from 2006.

Here's a photo of Slowcoustic's numbered copy of the KEEP Records' original release, and the artwork for the cover album.​

​Long May You Run, J. Tillman Revisited cover art.

​​You're wondering where you can go steal yourself a copy of this baby? Don't even worry, pirate. It's already free and available in its entirety on Soundcloud. Not just that streaming noise either, you can download each track and hit the road with them.

Below I grabbed a quote from Slowcoustic about the project and a few samples, including one from Doc Feldman, who I learned about in a post on Slowcoustic last in November. I've previously put up the two Show me Shows by Doc Feldman. If you haven't seen it them, get on it.

“It defines what the hushed singer-songwriter would ever strive and hope to be. A place of comfort to me and I hope a place for many others.”
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A Visit to Valladolid, Colonial Yucatán: Parte Uno

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​One of the many coloured walls and courtyards in Valladolid, Yucatan.

The elusive Valladolid. A trip here had been put off for various reasons. Guests, work, this, that. Dammit, we'll make it if we have to bring every excuse with us. Finally, the snap decision came and we took a four day trip over last weekend to Valladolid. The room at Hotel Aurora was booked and the bus left at 6:30pm.

6:10pm — Still at my desk. Work is holding me up. Something had to get done and I couldn't and wouldn't have wanted to be off the radar during the 2hr40min bus ride from Playa del Carmen to Valladolid. "Sorry, we're going to have to postpone, even if just another day."

6:12pm — Flying V! Miracles do happen. I could abandon station at my desk. Katy's a girl scout and was at the ready with everything, organized and sitting at the door, waiting. Waiting. I shouted, "We're making moves!" slammed the laptop shut, tossed it in the bag, jumped into my shoes and headed to the front door, "Wait! Beer." 

We threw five Tecates into a cooler bag, hastily over supplied it with ice and ran. 

6:16pm — Waiting near our place for a cab, tapping our feet. There are always cabs, always. There were cabs, but they were all full. Call it dinner rush, high season or just shit luck. Every cab that went by had heads in seats. Four minutes is an eternity when you're this determined to make ground and get out of Dodge on a timer.

6:20pm​ — A cab! He argues about the rate. We don't care. Take the money you son of a bitch, just drive!

6:26pm — We pull into the ADO bus station and Katy hauls ahead to get the tickets while I pull behind with bags in tow. Run you fool! ​Despite what ADO's listing said online, the bus to Valladolid is leaving from the other station some 10+ zig-zag blocks away. Mother F—

6:27pm — ​"Taxi, taxi. Vámonos! Rapido!"

6:31pm — Pulling in, she asks, "Have we missed it?"

"There's a good chance of that," I said, "But go, run, I'll deal with this guy and the bags. Get the tickets."

I can see Katy's at the ticket counter behind a family making sense of some map. I run past the ticket guy, using my pale skin to throw him off with the scent of touristic confusion. Now past security (a loose term), I'm able to stop the driver from getting on the bus and closing the door.​

6:32pm — Thank whichever Saint it is that makes this place consistently behind schedule, even if sometimes only slightly. The bus was loaded and the driver was eager to get going, but accommodating. The two of us take our seats, look at each other and without having to say it, she knows I mean, "Beer!"

That's the best a can of cold Tecate will ever taste, if such a thing could be said about Tecate. Five empty and a bus ride down, Valladolid, arrived.

​Arriving at Hotel Aurora, Valladolid, Yucatan

What is this place?

Founded in 1543, this little gem of a colonial city is relatively small with a population of roughly 46,000. However, the area included in the population count is 945km², which is far larger than the fifteen square blocks in size that the town feels like.

When you walk around Valladolid you feel like you're in a small town. Some intersections are busy with traffic directors signalling lines of cars left and right, but, others are quiet cobblestone streets. Streets that let you stumble around in the middle without risking the strike of a car, give or take. 

Mercado Municipal

The Municipal Market. An authentic Mexican meat market run by men in butcher aprons, cowboy hats and moustaches. A vegetable market with elderly Mayan women as the main proprietors. Possibly husband and wife on either side of the meat/produce division, tending to their respective talents.

The women organize their vegetables, fruits and spices. Watching as you pass by, pointing out their colourful displays. The men work with cleavers and their hands. Behind them, signs identifying their specialty and name. "Ask for Tony, ask for Luis."

Ruben and Manuel looked to not only be the most applied in their work, but had the best cuts and variety. Luis seems to be your man if you're interested in poultry and abandonment.

Each sign is hand painted and appears to hold sponsorship by Zapaterias Ivan, a shoe store in town. Ivan the entrepreneur, or: Ivan the conglomerate.​

​Outside of the market is a strip of other small shops, shoemakers and a couple of dated, mini arcades. The market is not a polished star on a map, it's where locals come to get their fixings. This isn't a tourist attraction, although we're clearly tourists and attracted to the sight of butchers and organized chaos. That's the thing about Valladolid at this point in its history. It isn't a tourist attraction. The entire town functions on an economy outside of tourism unlike that of nearby Tulum, Playa del Carmen or Cancun, none of which would likely exist without.

It's a real piece of Mexico, only a short distance inland from the Caribbean coast. A collection of businesses and families otherwise unspoiled by price hikes, taking tourists for what they're worth, hawking wares at passersby and all of the other trappings.

How long can a magical little world like this exist without the tourbus of a visitor's economy finding it? It may not be long. Looks like local tour group and makeshift Disneyland, Xcaret, has already got its sights set. Included in their tours around to local ruins, cenotes and other archeological sites is a lunch stop in Valladolid. The tourbus stops midday out front of a restaurant that, aside from it being a little too polished, you'd otherwise expect to be local. It's an Xcaret manufactured colonial courtyard, and it's the only place like it in a town of authenticity and beauty. Out come the fanny packs and Birkenstocks.

Not that we can say much, we're not locals. We're tourists, just the same as the Tommy Bahamas walking around. Although, something about group travel, timed stops and planted attractions takes the heart out of a place, you know?​

Aside from that, at the moment, the rest of the town is yours to wander and feel lost in a different world, even a different time in a way.

More to come...

To shorten the length of each post, I'll end this one here. We have at least one or two more worth of content about dining, drinking, antiquing and general wandering.​

 
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Captive: A short by Dano Pendygrasse

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Old friend, former maker of snowboard careers and all around good human being recently put together this short film. Titled, Captive, this was entirely shot from his beautiful condo in downtown Vancouver. About the process of shooting a short entirely from a box in the sky, Dano said,

“I’ve always believed that when you apply limitations to your process that the result is creativity. For the first year of my career I shot with nothing but a 50mm lens and as a result I found ways to solve the problems that arose from that. Limiting the physical space that I allowed myself to use photos from was a new way to define the boundaries of this project.”

​Take a look-see and enjoy his newly found filmmaking prowess and well seasoned photographic eye.

While this short is filled with an incredible amount of beauty from a single location, one comedic highlight to watch for at the end is the gentleman on the balcony in his bright red grape smugglers. I went over to Dano's to sit with him and his lovely lady, Kim, over a morning coffe. There he was! Combing his hair with an afro pick in front of a mirror on the balcony. For an hour. The man stood there for a complete hour combing his hair. Apparently this is routine, and I for one feel Dano's property value should increase on account of this. If not, this world is not one I want to be a part of.

For more of Dano's work, visit his website here or like his Facebook page if you know what's good for your newsfeed.​