Big Daddy and the Trinidad Sour

Fitzroy this week loses one of its favourite orphans. A staple of Melbourne's North for many a year, big daddy Josh Danart's itchy feet have resulted in an au revoir. Know fondly for his top-class, grade A, platinum and tungsten encrusted banter (which is the top banter rating achievable by a human) the stool next to his at the bar was the place to be to lose a few hours, and ruminate on things over a sazerac or three.

His legacy stays with us in personality and form represented by the insidious and creeping Trinidad Sour. If you can stomach this potion then you've earnt your pay - and your spot at the bar next to America's favourite son. Weighing in with a hefty ounce of Angostura bitters (told ya) it needs to be shaken hard with half ounces of rye whisky, orgeat (almond syrup) and lemon juice with a dash of egg white. Serve it straight up, lift it to your lips and go hard. There's no pussy-footing the Trinidad Sour!

Josh you're a dirty Texan but we'll miss you. I'll catch you on Royal street some time. New Orleans is slow to leave the blood!