My stepfather is a cocktail man. When we visit, he always offers a drink before dinner, and breaks out the salted peanuts.
My father was a cocktail man, too, before it went out of style. He was a Foreign Service officer, and I remember watching the cocktail parties (complete with engraved invitations!) from the top of the stairs in our house in Nigeria.
I like the occasional cocktail, too, but since I have teenage boys, I don’t keep spirits in the house, and I’m out of practice.
Now I want someone to explain to me why a Cuba Libre is not a rum and Coke.