title: How to Booze: Exquisite Cocktails and Unsound Advice
author:  Jordan Kaye 
description: Starred Review. In their introduction, experienced barhands Altier and Kaye state that a "good drink, when it's put together right and is suited to the occasion, transforms you into a better version of yourself," setting the tone for this sharp guide to drinks for every conceivable occasion. Buoyed by wit as bracing as a gin martini, the duo lead a tour through dozens of cocktails, offering suggestions for the end of a long unlucky streak (a Gin Rickey) and when sitting next to a movie star (the rum and fruit-juicy Mary Pickford) as well as more commonplace events like meeting the in-laws (the gin-based Fine and Dandy), a high school reunion (a Rusty Nail), or flying coach (a Madras). Rather than devolving into sheer novelty, misogyny or mean-spiritedness, the authors deftly walk the line (rare exceptions include "last drink before AA"), offering cogent information on a drink's creation and characteristics, along with sharp commentary such as "your sexual orientation is at best a self-fulfilling prophecy, and not a very interesting one at that" in the entry for sexual experimentation (calling for a rye-and-maraschino liqueur Fancy Free). The duo, veteran New York drink-slingers both (Altier currently runs a Manhattan bar), keep a canny balance between the educational and the irreverent, making for a terrifically entertaining guide to informed imbibing.
zlib_text: HooK
  By
  Annie Nicholas
  
  Chapter One
  I opened the spice cabinet, pulled out the vinegar bottle and took a swig.
  Don’t make that face. I had replaced the liquid with vodka. You’re still not
  allowed to make that face.
  Bare feet slapped on the tile floor, announcing my husband’s pending
  arrival in the kitchen. I capped the bottle and placed it among the many dusty
  spice bottles before he spotted what I had been drinking. He didn’t know my
  dry spell had ended. What would he think if he caught me swigging from a
  vinegar bottle? I had to find a better way to hide my liquor.
  “What is this?” My husband of twenty years held out his hand. He wore
  only black sleeping pants.
  Not this again. “Toilet paper.” Sighing, I eyed the spice cabinet with
  longing. This was why I couldn’t confide in Rurik. If he picked an argument
  over toiletry, how would he react when I confessed I’d picked up my
  drinking habit again? Better to stay quiet and keep what little peace I could
  find.
  “It’s one ply, Connie.” Rurik,