This is a drink specifically designed for a beautiful fall Sunday evening when my beloved Saints are doing their best to dig out of the 0-4 hole they began the 2012 season with and the hated Atlanta Falcons are sitting at 7-0. It's a potent (like the Saints offense) pre-game kind of drink based on the Black Manhattan that has a touch of sweetness (the weather), a strong balance of bitterness (the hated Falcons record), and is exceptionally boozy (to help deal with the reality that the beloved Saints are 2-4 whilst the hated Falcons are 7-0).
Thanks for inspiration around the FtF go to fellow good guy (Saints fan) Neal Bodenheimer and bad guy (Falcons fan) Brandon Herring.
The name is a shortened version of one of my favorite sayings, so please feel free to share any guesses you have in the comments below.
Mix rye, amaro, citrate, and bitters in a cocktail shaker over ice. Stir until well mixed and chilled.
Rinse a rocks glass with a splash of the Maraschino and pour off excess.
Strain shaker contents over fresh ice (one large cube if available).
Note: If you really want the full effect of this particular cocktail, you should consume at least 2 or 3 and then taunt any Falcons fans you happen to know or come in contact with.
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