Drink 6: The Old Beach Can

The Name: The Old Beach Can

The Bar: West 3rd Common (1 West 3rd Street, NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: It has been said that friends are the family that you choose. For me, this quote is summed up perfectly by my relationship with a family called the Quinns. My family became friends with David and Leslie Quinn when their daughter Leila and I were in the same playgroup as babies. Even at a very young age, Leila and I clearly developed a special bond—the two of us quickly became best friends. And just as we became friends, our parents became friends too. Before long, our families were seeing each other on special occasions, vacationing with each other, and just generally spending lots of time together. Leila and I looked somewhat alike, being the same age and both having blonde hair, and people would sometime see the six of us—our parents, Leila, and me—on the street and would ask if Leila and I were twins. Both sets of parents would answer, in unison, “yes.” When asked who the parents were, they would again respond in unison with “we are.”

"Twins"

 Perhaps it is from this joke that Leila and I grew to think of ourselves as twins born a month apart and to different parents. As babies, we even developed a secret language, speaking nonsense to each other and start giggling.

To this day, I consider the Quinns—or “Quinnland” as they are affectionately known to me—as an extension of my own family. Even though they have since moved out of NYC to Hastings, we see them often, and still vacation with them most summers. 

Vacation photo with Quinnland

There will most likely be several drinks on this blog which will pertain to stories I share with the Quinns, so you can look forward to some of those soon. But, in honor of Leila’s birthday today (happy birthday, Leila!) I’ve decided to start the list of Quinn-themed drinks with one named after one of our longest-running traditions: The Can.

One day during summer vacation, we were on the beach. While Leila and I presumably ran around and climbed on things, our parents spent a couple of hours sitting on a beach, throwing rocks at a beer can that had washed up on shore. They would throw the rocks, trying to hit the can, and would continue to do so until the can had reached the edge of the ocean. Once it was about to get dragged away by the tide, one of them would quickly run to the ocean, grab the can, and bring it back so they could start over again. It was a simple activity, but they had a grand old time doing it. When we left the beach, David secretly took the can with him, unbeknownst to my parents.

My dad’s birthday is in August, and so a few days later, Leslie baked a pie in order to celebrate. When my dad cut into the pie, however, he paused. His knife had hit something solid inside. He reached in and pulled out…you guessed it, the very same beer can from the beach, hidden there as a practical joke by the Quinns. Not to be outdone, my parents secretly saved the can and hid it from the Quinns to find later. The can became "The Can," continuously exchanged hands, and so a tradition was born.

For years and years, The Can would be passed back and forth-- hidden inside puppets, found in luggage and hidden throughout apartments in increasingly elaborate ways. In one especially memorable move, the Quinns contacted my Uncle Peter in Vermont, and had him wrap the can and present it to us one year for Christmas during a Secret Santa gift exchange, hidden in a box of maple syrup (Uncle Peter makes maple syrup and actually produces 8% of Vermont’s maple syrup crop. I’ve been known to be a bit of a maple syrup snob because of this, and can be annoyingly critical of any maple syrup I deem inferior). When Leila and I entered college (Leila actually wrote a beautiful essay about the can and its significance in her life for her college applications), there became new opportunities for us to pass the can back and forth. Roommates and significant others alike were contacted so that the can would pop up on our respective college campuses.

And throughout all of this, do not forget that this is a beer can. But not just any beer can. This beer can is now at least 22 years old, and has not aged well. It had already not been in great shape, having been weathered by the ocean when my parents decided to throw rocks at it for several hours, and is now even worse for wear after years of being passed around. It’s crumpled, crumbling, and generally falling apart. But throughout the years, the can has continued to pass between our hands, and means a lot to all six of us. This past year, as a Christmas present to our family, the Quinns had the can silver-plated so as to better preserve it. It’s now proudly displayed in my parents’ apartment (for now).

The Can, artfully displayed on a plate

And that is why this next drink had to be called The Old Beach Can, which I settled on since I think it sounds like it could more feasibly be the name of a cocktail than simply “The Can.” Most of the stories behind the names of the drinks on this blog are humorous, but this name carries a lot of significance for me, and I had high hopes that it might live up to expectations.

Ordering The Drink: I had not been to West 3rd Common before, but it has a reputation as one of the best bars for students at NYU. I was there early before it got too crowded and grabbed a seat at the bar. The bartender, Jess, seemed a bit alarmed at the request. After I explained that I wanted her to invent the drink, she asked "What is this? Some type of trivia contest?" I explained it was for a blog, and she went to go confer with some other bartenders seated at the other end of the bar. I overheard one person say "Yeah, Malibu. That'd be beachy," and also "Yes. Pineapple. Yes." There was also lots of talk about rum and I was okay with this. 

Jess confers with other bartenders as she puts the drink together.

 Soon, the floral, red drink was presented to me. 

The Drink:

So floral and red.

Malibu Rum

Meyer's Dark Rum

Pineapple Juice

Grenadine

Muddled cherries, strawberries, and lime

Served on the rocks

Assessment of Drink: The drink contains a lot of sweet ingredients, and I've previously spoken about how overly-sweet drinks are really not for me. It's not that I don't like sweet liquors-- and Malibu is certainly delicious-- but when drinks are too cloyingly sweet they're hard to take. Luckily, that's not the case here. It's a great example of how a sweet drink doesn't have to be too sweet. Adding the Meyer's Dark Rum on top of the Malibu helps make the coconut flavor not too overpowering. When I complimented Jess-- who had a really great energy and seemed quite satisfied with her handiwork-- on this, she mentioned that she added extra lime as well to help cut through the Malibu.

I was also a huge fan of the muddled fruit at the bottom. I'm a sucker for alcohol-soaked fruit, and the crushed cherries and strawberries were delicious to munch on after the drink was done.

Muddled cherries and strawberries at the bottom of the glass.

In general, I've had other drinks quite similar to the Old Beach Can. The combination of flavors are not particularly unusual. But that's because they work really well together. It's a reliable drink, and a crowd-pleaser which I have a feeling most would enjoy. A solid drink all around-- I almost ordered another after finishing the first!

Does It Live Up To The Name: When I initially thought of the name, my focus was on the "Old" part. I imagined whiskey being utilized in this drink-- alluding to an Old Fashioned. Some sort of classic, strong cocktail. But, perhaps because the tradition of The Can has taken on such a life of its own since that day where my parents pelted it with rocks on the beach, I didn't really give too much thought to the "Beach" part of the Old Beach Can. Which is why I was surprised that this is what Jess chose to focus on. But, it makes sense, and given that it was Jess' focus, this drink works. The prominent use of rum made it definitely feel like a drink one could sip on a tropical beach.

The focus on the beach aspect, however, meant that "Old" and "Can" were put on the backburner. Which is fine. I don't know if it was intentional, but I actually felt the idea of the can was present in the vessel in which the drink was served. Rather than a highball or a martini glass, it was served in a standard beverage glass that one might expect to have a soft drink in. Basically, it was can-like in appearance. Which worked (although it made it hard to get at the delicious muddled fruits on the bottom). And I guess that the "Old" part could be present considering how classic these flavors are.

Perhaps the highest compliment I can give the Old Beach Can is that it lived up to its namesake. More than any other drink, this one could have been very disappointing given how meaningful The Can is to me, but I left very satisfied. Jess and her brain trust of bartenders put together a great drink-- and the muddled fruit really put it over the edge. It had been a long day (which is why I was getting a drink in the first place) and I was tired so I left early before a crowd formed, but I can easily see West 3rd Common being filled with excited young patrons. A nice neighborhood spot, and the perfect choice for getting the Old Beach Can.

 

Leila poses with The Can. Happy birthday, twin!