On Mount Sinai, God established a covenant with his people. It was a covenant etched quite literally into two stone tablets. This covenant established the relationship between God and his chosen people. On the outset, it seemed so simple. After all, God had done all the heavy lifting. He had heard their cries in the land of Egypt, brought them out with a mighty outstretched arm, enabled them to walk through the Red Sea on dry ground, and protected them in a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night. They didn’t have to earn that right; they didn’t have work towards this blessing. Instead, they are given a law, one set in stone, that would guide how they live. All they were given to do was live lives that reflected the blessings of their God. They were to have no other god’s before them, not use the Lord’s name in vain, and remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. The list, of course, goes on, but we don’t need to go much further to see that they failed to keep their end of the covenant.

By Paul Nelson

I didn’t grow up on James Bond. I wasn’t allowed to watch the movies until I was a teen, and even then it was only the edited-for-television broadcasts on ABC. I may have seen one James Bond film in the theater, and I watched Skyfall on Netflix a few years ago. But in general the films have been too over the top for my tastes, whether on the scale of explosions and car chases or in the realm of drop-dead gorgeous femme fatales.  I’ve never even read any of the books.

By Paul Nelson

Legend has it that the Negroni came to be nearly a century ago when the Italian Count Camillo Negroni asked a bartender in Florence to make his favorite cocktail, the Americano, stronger. The bartender substituted gin for the traditional soda water, resulting in the Negroni. Whether or not you believe this particular story isn’t terribly important, but it’s another example of the fascinating and by and large thoroughly unsubstantiated world of cocktail lore. It’s also an example of a classic cocktail that makes gin somewhat palatable!

By Paul Nelson

There is a comfort in settling in with a set of drinks that you know you and those around you like and enjoy. It takes a certain amount of pressure off. That’s where I’ve been settled for the past couple of months. Content. Preparing a rotation of a dozen or so drinks (when we’re hosting), and more often enjoying a subset of those with my wife when we’re making dinner together (mojitos, Manhattans, pisco sours, sazeracs, and Aperol spritzes). 

By Paul Nelson

Our recent family trip to Europe cemented this reality in my mind – whether traveling through Europe, the Middle East, or the Orient, cocktails are far more of a rarity than here in the US. But one cocktail advertised heavily throughout the many countries we passed through in Europe is the Aperol Spritz – sometimes just referred to as a Spritz. We loved it there as a refreshing and light drink in the midst of a hot day of sightseeing. We continue to enjoy it now that we’re home, despite the fact that it’s not a very common drink in the US.

By Paul Nelson

It isn’t that I haven’t been drinking, I just haven’t taken the time to do anything compellingly different in a while. However Billie kindly provided me with an amazing bottle of aged dark rum for my birthday, and it seemed only fitting to find a good use for it (other than just sipping it straight and smelling it!). This led me to the Acapulco, which is quickly becoming a go-to alternative to the Manhattan  for my wife.

One of the many gifts I received from my very loving congregation this Christmas is another bartending resource guide – Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails. Being a Christian, a history buff  and a bartender, I have a natural affinity and desire to connect with those who have gone before me, whom I might benefit from and pass on to those who come after me. It’s this propensity that has launched me into my new theological reading project: The Ante-Nicene Fathers (another delightful Christmas gift from a parishioner!). 

By Paul Nelson

Every Sunday evening we host happy hour for some of the college students and recent college grads in the area. It’s an informal event – as a happy hour should be. We make popcorn, put out chips and crackers and veggies and home-made ranch dressing, slice up some salami and incorporate whatever else we have on hand or someone brings. We spend a few hours just chatting. Sometimes it’s theological. Sometimes it’s personal – helping young people find their way to surer footing after the break-up of a long-term relationship or praying with them as they struggle to find employment options and make decisions for their future. Some of the regulars are very gifted musically, and the guitar(s) come out or the piano tinkles and people are singing. 

By Paul Nelson

I was first introduced to mezcal when I inherited a half-bottle from my best friend who was moving away for work after college. I didn’t really know what it was, but it was cool because there was a worm in the bottom of the bottle.

I haven’t had mezcal in the last 20 years probably, but I happened upon a bottle of it at the local grocery store and picked it up for nostalgic reasons. Then I stumbled across this article in Slate on the burgeoning mezcal industry and figured it was time to do put that bottle to use.