I forget how old I was when someone told me that too much gin would make me want to fight, or cry, or both. Either way, besides a few stray Sapphire-and-tonics in my twenties, I generally avoided the stuff.

That is, until I first sipped a crisp Plymouth gin martini. And a Hendrick's gin rickey. And then, Caledonia Spirits' Barr Hill Gin. Each has its own seductive flavor profile, from juniper to coriander to (in Barr Hill's case) the faintest hint of honey. 

That's probably what makes it the ideal spirit for the Bee's Knees, one of the simplest, most gorgeous cocktails in the universe, and one I'm slightly obsessed with at the moment. Gin, lemon and honey, shaken with ice and then strained, yields a golden, sour-sweet, magical thing that almost tastes good for you. The Prohibition-era mixologists who created it were either genius or eminently practical, as they surely researched myriad ways to deal with a surfeit of bathtub gin.

However, the very simplicity on which the Bee's Knees depends can also be its downfall — too much booze can make it harsh, while the honey can turn into a cold, hard mass in the shaker (as I learned when I first tried to make one). At Hourglass at the Stowe Mountain Lodge, bartenders counter this problem by using honey simple syrup, a clever twist that yields their stunning rendition (pictured), which has just the perfect sweet-tart-floral balance. (They use Barr Hill, by the way). 

I've watched bartenders struggle with the honey-glop thing as I did, and then deliver overly sharp concoctions. I love the citrusy, bracing version at the Parker House Inn in Quechee, where bartender and co-owner Adam Adler also makes another alluring concoction: a blend of gin, apple cider and St. Germain that I think is called a Cider Press (details are fuzzy).

Back at the ranch, I have a small jar of honey syrup at the ready. It takes only a few moments to make — just heat equal parts water and honey until dissolved. I mix it with a small sprig of rosemary to add another layer of wintery flavor.

The Bee's Knees

2 ounces Barr Hill Gin
3/4 ounce honey simple syrup (or use a warm spoon for honey, and mix fast and furiously)
3/4 ounce fresh-squeezed lemon juice
Sprig of rosemary (optional)
Lemon peel or twist (optional) 

Combine first four ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake wildly to blend, then strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with lemon peel or twist, and serve.

Maybe you're a member of the Vermont congressional delegation. Maybe you have tickets for the Obama swearing-in ceremony and an extra $100 to throw around on top of your round-trip ticket to D.C.

Either way, on Sunday you might find yourself at the Vermont State Society's 2013 Inaugural Reception in our nation's capital and enjoying a menu prepared by members of the Vermont Specialty Food Association.

And if you're staying home, consider this a recipe for a congressional-worthy meal all your own. 

Start with a cheese plate. In D.C., Shummy and co. (shown above at the ribbon cutting for the Mad River Food Hub, where a number of the featured foods are prepared) will be slicing into blocks of 2-year-old maple-smoked cheddar from Grafton Village Cheese, as well as selections from CabotCreamery and Vermont Butter & Cheese Creamery.

Those playing the home game will want to get out their fondue pots. The Washington delegation will be dipping into melted versions of the above cheeses with roasted potato cubes, Empire apple wedges from Champlain Orchards and vegetable crudités.

If that's too fancy for you, apps will also include bags of chips from Gringo Jack's with the Manchester company's own salsa. Be sure to keep your fingers clean by using a fork when digging into pickles from Lyman's Specialties.

The main course includes a pasta bar with vodka and pesto sauces from Bove's and Vermont Fresh Pasta (right) as well as spicy satay sauce from Vermont Harvest Specialty Foods in Stowe. A carving station features Misty Knoll Farms turkey, sausage from Vermont Smoke & Cure and pork from Vermont Salumi. Those wishing to go vegan and gluten-free can grab a bowl of Thai curry squash soup from Joe's Soups at Screamin' Ridge Farm. A range of Vermont dressings will top salads, including the aforementioned satay. Clearly, the lesson is that the Thai peanut sauce goes on everything.

Vermont-made (though no longer Vermont-owned) Ben & Jerry's tops the list of desserts, along with apple pies from Ma Bean's Vermont Pie Company, a variety of slices from Vermont Cheesecake Company and Liz Lovely cookies.

But, of course, what really matters is the liquid courage. Whether you're getting up the nerve to talk to one of our representatives or just steeling yourself for the work week, local liquors will be in full force.

The hard stuff comes from from Whistlepig Straight Rye Whiskey and Vermont Spirits Distilling Co. A wide selection of beers includes sips from Long Trail Brewing Company, Otter Creek Brewing, Magic Hat Brewery and Trapp Family Lodge Brewery. Cider from Essex's Citizen Cider (right) joins wine from Snow Farm Vineyard and Honora Winery.

But when it comes to free-flowing nectar, perhaps it's best to party at home, near a couch and far from lawmakers.

It's days before Thanksgiving, and we're being clobbered with recipes for steamed turkey, curried brussels sprouts and complex squash purees. Yet, while Thanksgiving surely involves cooking for days — then devouring everything in under 30 minutes — it can also be rich with awkward distant-relative encounters. What better time to get liquored up?

Yes, Beaujalois and Pinot Noir and Riesling shine ever so on the Thanksgiving table, but sometimes you need a stiff cocktail to blunt the holiday's edges.

Since I've just had a particularly trying week, I've had plenty of inspiration to experiment with that simple but gorgeous concoction, the Negroni. In its classic form, the Negroni is a sweet-bitter blend of gin, sweet vermouth and the Italian bitter Campari. A bad one can taste like airplane fuel, but a great one is bracing, juicy and too easy to make. And, since all of the elements contain alcohol, it can also get you quite buzzed, quite fast. (One Negroni is really all you need; two could cause trouble.)

Last week I undertook the brutal, grueling task of pairing local hard ciders with creamy, unctuous local cheeses. Just when I thought my stomach had recovered, I was invited to a cider pairing dinner at the North Hero House Inn & Restaurant on the Champlain Islands. It sounded too unique to pass up.

If last week's exercise taught me how well cider plays with cheese, last night's dinner schooled me in two more things: The hard, and even the sweet, stuff works equally well with savory dishes, and there's a seriously talented chef lurking inside the North Hero House. Last April, chef Tim McQuinn — who cut his teeth at Boston's Craigie On Main — joined the team here. (Even longer ago, McQuinn was a Paul Smith's College alum; one of his mentors, former NECI vice president and current consultant Paul Sorgule, was at last night's dinner.)

Let's do some word association. If I say "boy," you might say "girl." If I say "sun," you might say "moon." And if I say, "creme de menthe," you say... "blech."

Who the hell uses creme de menthe anymore? Well, at the now-demolished Harbor Hideaway in Shelburne, it was a signature spirit behind the bar, and formed the basis for one of two drink "concoctions" listed at the top of the menu, at least in 1957: the Green Mountain Boy.

The ingredients of the Green Mountain Boy are few but wince inducing: "Heavy Dark Rum," creme de menthe and lime. "This One Is Masculine!" proclaims the menu. (The other drink, the Harbor Cocktail, calls for New England rum, maple syrup and lemon — a more palatable but less interesting drink).

Intrigued, I set out to re-create the Green Mountain Boy. I assumed the cocktail drew its name in part from green creme de menthe, which is a nature-defying neon. Unfortunately, I only had clear creme de menthe on my bar, a bottle that had been bestowed on me by a neighbor cleaning out his liquor cabinet. I've had it for three years and haven't used it until now.

At first, I tried a light, aged local rum. The result was truly disgusting. The bartender who created this was on to something: dark, chocolate-colored rum — such as the Cruzan Black Strap Rum I eventually used — is necessary to stand up to the minty force of creme de menthe.

With dark rum and a generous spritz of lime — and no modern bells or whistles — this drink is actually decent, wisps of caramel flavors from the rum jostling against the vibrating menthol of the liqueur. And once you whip up one of these, you might pair it with one of the other Harbor Hideaway specials, such as "Consommé Madrilene" (.35) or Barbecued Chicken with Exotic Sauce ($2.25).

Green Mountain Boy
Makes one drink

Ice
2 ounces black-strap rum
1 ounce creme de menthe
Juice from half a lime 

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake until blended. Strain into a cocktail glass, garnish with lime wedge (not shown) and serve.

The Seven Days food writers live to eat, not the other way around. That means that at any given moment, we're probably tasting something we want to recommend — or warn you about. And it's our job to know about new restaurants, dishes, chefs. Through Bite Club, you can get that info as soon as we track it down. In other words, you can get it while it's hot. 

Alice and I are excited to collect all of our food content here on the brand-new Bite Club blog. Our staff blog, Blurt, came to be a rather serious place for pithy posts about food news we've stumbled across, a photo of something amazing we've eaten, a lament for some axed menu item, or a trailer for a new food film. 

On the Bite Club blog, we can roam free. Check in each weekday not only for Alice Eats and Grazing but for Vermont restaurant, foodie entrepreneur and ag news, recipes, and links to the sometimes-strange, sometimes-vital food and drink content we find both locally and on the interwebs. Come and get it!