Drinks

When I look back at personal favorites, at the momentary passions that have come upon me sometimes by accident, I remember when I first had a gin and tonic. It was on the terrace of the Oliver Messel Suite at the Dorchester Hotel in London, one pink-and-blue evening in 1958. The occasion was a going-away cocktail party for me before I returned to America after sixteen years away. To this day, on a hot evening after a difficult day, a tall Waterford crystal glass filled to the brim with ice, an inch of dry gin, the pulp of half a ripe lime, near-freezing Schweppes tonic water, and a few violet flowers can bring perfect peace, for a while anyway.