"It's been compared to paint thinner, lighter fluid and jet fuel, and has been pressed into service as a home cough remedy. In an air disaster scenario it might serve to disinfect a wound, or sterilize makeshift surgical tools."Ezra Glinter, Forward food section, 3/30/12
There were so many sentences I wish I wrote in this piece. A few more:
Cossa was introduced to it by Bill Radosevich, a lead contamination specialist from Minneapolis whom he met at an environmental trade show in 2002, and whom he credits as “the foundation for slivovitz in this country.”
Though Cossa was reluctant to divulge the Drinkers Association’s precise procedures for naming judges, he did say that “every journeyman’s path is different, and customized to their distinct needs in traversing towards slivovitz and enlightenment.”
Judges are instructed to determine is the slivovitz tastes like old socks or a chemical waste dump, and whether or not it makes the tongue go numb.
The piece is full delightful tidbits (“According to the score sheet, it is mandatory to make a toast before each round.”) It’s things like this that restore my faith in humanity’s capacity to hold at bay the oppressive onslaught of the forces of boringness.