Grapefruit & Orange Zest

I gave the instructions to a waitress who appeared out of nowhere when we pushed the Push For Prossie button on the table. She knew the rules. No sugar, no kid’s drink, no mocktail. Certainly no fucking orange squash. It didn’t stop her suggesting all three after trying to palm us off with tequila first.

The ‘Schloss is usually our office for the day. Before the mission began, we’d alternate beers and whiskies here to push the limits of creativity. It’s like a huge poster child for modern bar branding. Rows of tempting spirits block your reflection in the mirrors behind the wraparound bar. Vast golden tanks hold fresh beer to be pulled by the gallon into freshly frosted glasses.

It’s Disneyland for drinking (alcohol) and heaves with punters in their best pulling clothes.

At this point Dave the Dice wasn’t quite bought into the Mission, so I feared the server would bend to his will and default to beer as a safe bet.

I’m not surprised she was confused. We were clearly well practiced, degenerate alcohol abusers and it didn’t make sense for us to order Ribena (I figured that was all she could hear me say as I laid out the embryonic Rules).

Eventually I demanded the best mixologist in the bard rise to the challenge and slammed my empty squash glass as hard as I dared. That seemed to clinch the deal.

The result – courtesy of an unknown bartender; a gallant attempt at inventing a drink that ticks some of the boxes: Orange & Grapefruit Zest.

Verdict – close, but no cigar. A kid would drink it, albeit slightly disgusted by the zest / rind flavour, but excited by the strawberry enough to work through it. Points for no umbrella. Points deducted for being too close to a mocktail.

Order again? No.