I Hate Lychee. Explain the Lychee Martini.

I need to begin with a fact.
I do not like lychee.
I have tried.
The flavor by itself?
No.
The texture?
Absolutely not.
If you hand me a peeled lychee and tell me, “Just try it, it’s so good,” I will politely decline.
Probably.
Put that same lychee anywhere near vodka, citrus and a cocktail shaker?
Apparently I have no principles.
Because I love a lychee martini.
I cannot explain this betrayal.
But I have accepted it.

This Is Why Tastings Matter

There. I accidentally made this educational.
Don't worry. It won't last long.
One of my favorite things about food and drinks is that ingredients behave completely differently depending on what you put around them.
Something too sweet suddenly works with something tart.
Something rich needs something bright.
Something you would never eat by itself becomes the reason you order another one.
Apparently, lychee needed vodka before I was willing to hear her out.
And honestly?
Fair.
A good lychee martini isn't just sweet.
There's acidity.
There's alcohol.
There's usually citrus.
Everything gets cold and shaken together, and somehow the flavor I don't particularly enjoy on its own becomes crisp and floral and ridiculously easy to drink.
This feels suspicious.
But delicious.

Your Wedding Cocktail Doesn't Have to Be Deep

We've talked before about wedding details having stories.
I stand by that.
But sometimes the story behind your signature cocktail is:
We tasted it. It was really good.
The end.
It does not have to be the drink you had on your first date.
It doesn't have to represent the city where you met.
It doesn't need to be named The Future Mrs. Something.
And please know that I am saying that with love.
You are allowed to serve a drink simply because people will enjoy drinking it.
Revolutionary.

Although, If There Is a Story…

I am listening.
Maybe it's the rum punch your family makes at every gathering.
Maybe you always order an espresso martini after dinner.
Maybe one of you loves bourbon and the other thinks bourbon tastes like a wooden chair.
We can work with that.
Maybe you discovered a drink while traveling.
Maybe your favorite restaurant makes something you've been trying unsuccessfully to recreate at home for three years.
Maybe your families come from different places and the bar becomes one small way to bring those flavors together.
Those are fun starting points.
But I don't want us forcing a story onto a cocktail that doesn't need one.
Sometimes the drink is there because it is excellent.
I respect that too.

Flavor Combinations Are Where Things Get Interesting

This is the part I love.
Not necessarily what the ingredient is.
What happens when you put it next to something else?
Passion fruit can be intensely tart.
Add vanilla or coconut and suddenly it's creamy, bright and balanced.
Chocolate is rich.
Give it espresso and a little salt?
Now we're having a conversation.
Vanilla rum cake is already minding its own delicious business.
Add dulce de leche?
Unnecessary.
Excessive.
Completely correct.
And lychee?
Apparently we're adding vodka.
Because that's who I am now.

Don't Be Afraid of the Weird One at the Tasting

You know the option.
The caterer or bartender is explaining the tasting menu and you immediately think:
Absolutely not.
Try it.
Not because you have to choose it.
Not because unusual automatically means better.
And definitely not because your wedding needs to prove how interesting you are through beverages.
Just try it.
A tasting is one of the few wedding appointments where saying,
“I don't think I'm going to like that.”
can be immediately followed by,
“Wait. Give me another sip.”
That's useful information.
Also entertaining.

Your Guests Don't All Have to Agree

This is another reason I like having a couple of thoughtful drink options instead of trying to invent one cocktail every human being at the wedding will adore.
That drink does not exist.
Somebody hates gin.
Somebody thinks tequila is responsible for something that happened in 2014 and refuses to discuss it.
Somebody wants bourbon.
Somebody wants something sweet.
Somebody doesn't drink alcohol at all.
And somebody's uncle is going to order a rum and Coke regardless of the gorgeous signature cocktail menu you've spent six months developing.
Let him.
He's happy.
The signature drinks can have personality without becoming an assignment.

And Please Give the Non-Alcoholic Drink Some Personality Too

If we're having fun with flavors, everybody gets to participate.
Not drinking alcohol shouldn't mean your choices are water, soda or something that is essentially lemonade wearing rosemary.
Give me something tart.
Something sparkling.
Passion fruit.
Ginger.
Citrus.
Mint.
Coconut.
Pineapple.
Coffee.
A beautiful drink is still a beautiful drink without alcohol in it.
And unlike my relationship with lychee, this position is completely rational.

One Small Warning About Signature Cocktails

Make sure they can actually be served at a wedding.
There.
I did it again.
Education.
A gorgeous cocktail that takes four minutes, six ingredients, a smoke bubble, a hand-torched garnish and one bartender whispering an affirmation over it may be wonderful at a cocktail lounge.
Now put 150 people in front of the bar at once.
Different situation.
Your bartender should be able to tell you whether the drink works for your guest count and service style.
We want interesting.
We do not want 73 people staring at one man with a cocktail torch.

Taste First. Name It Later.

This might be my strongest opinion about signature cocktails.
Please choose the drink before we spend forty-five minutes deciding what adorable thing we're going to call it.
We need to know if it's good first.
Then you can name it after your dog.
Your neighborhood.
An inside joke.
Something in another language.
Nothing at all.
I am flexible.
But the cute sign cannot save a bad cocktail.
Taste first. Name it later.
There.
That's almost responsible advice.

As for Me and Lychee…

I still don't like it.
I feel the need to make that clear.
Do not see me drinking a lychee martini at a wedding and arrive five minutes later with a bowl of lychees because you think we've had some sort of breakthrough.
We have not.
Our relationship has very specific terms.
She gets vodka.
I get a martini glass.
We meet occasionally.
It's working.
And perhaps that's the actual lesson here.
Not everything has to make sense individually.
Sometimes you just need the right combination.
I hate lychee.
I love a lychee martini.
I contain multitudes.

A Very Lovely Wedding