Where do I start? I could start with another anecdote about how I’m such a picky eater and that I’d never enjoyed lamb until the summer we went wine-touring with some friends in the Okanagan, British Columbia, and they’d brought along some lamb chops and lamb roasts from their own parents’ farm. They knew how to cook it to perfection and it was lovely and rich, not at all gamey and slightly nauseating the way I’d attempted to cook it myself, so I was completely won over.
It started out innocently enough. As I mentioned, my brother-in-law, Al, is a fabulous cook & bartender – he’d actually had a menu of drinks for us to choose from. How lovely is that? And they’d picked out a drink especially for me, since I was such a huge Fleetwood Mac fan back in the day: The Gypsy. I can’t remember much about it except there was St. Germain and lime in it and they went down really smoothly.