What doesn’t kill you…

Normally when I see a recipe or ingredient list if the first thought that crosses my mind is “that sounds really weird” then it’s a good bet that the second thought will be “I bet it’s either really good or really bad.” The third thought is, of course, “I kind of want to try it.” Now more often than not, things that come across as weird in the culinary world actually do have some sort of taste-bud based reasoning behind them. Just because we didn’t know it when we were growing up doesn’t mean it’s gross. Every now and then though, something comes along and we can’t figure out what it’s after, something that we just don’t fully understand.

Enter (in a mysterious cloud of smoke and light): The Cocky Rooster.

No, that’s not just a blurry cell phone picture, you jerk. It’s obviously distorted by the mysterious smoke and light. Sheesh.

So what is this thing, this strange and unknown concoction, you ask? Where did it come from? And how do you make it? It’s a variant on the Michelada that gives the popular Mexican beer cocktail a Southeast-Asian/German twist. (Yes, you read correctly. I’ll explain in a bit.) As for how to make it, here you go: pour 1oz lime juice into a tall, salt rimmed glass. Add ice. Add a hefty squirt of sriracha (SE Asia). Add 3 dashes Maggi (Germany). Pour a cold lager over the top. Garnish with a couple slices of jalapeño.

Now look at it. So dark and mysterious on the bottom, with a deep, reddish color that rises from blood to gold as you approach the top of the glass.

Now smell it. It doesn’t smell like something to drink, does it? It smells like food. Spicy and herby and really kind of good. It makes you want to order a drink to go with the meal you’ve already got in front of you. Except, wait—the thing in front of you is the drink. Yes, that’s right, put your fork away and grab a crazy straw instead. Because crazy is where things are about to go with a quickness.

You see, due to the way it’s made, the drink’s flavor changes in stages as you near the bottom. The top third is dominated by saltiness and the smell of jalapeño, which eventually gives way to a beery, limey middle portion (my favorite part) before plunging into the darkest depths, an abyss where light cannot penetrate, a midnight realm where the sriracha-maggi tag team is lurking, waiting, anticipating with dark delight the moment in which the unsuspecting taste buds draw near, the moment when it can strike and deliver unto your tongue a thrashing the likes of which you may never forget.

And what happens on the other side? Well, that my friends, is a question that only YOU can answer, for spiritual journeys can be understood only by those who take them.