Even as a straight guy, it's hard to tell the difference between gay bar George (617 Fairview, 713-528-8102) and any other neighborhood establishment (besides the complete absence of females and the open male-on-male affection, of course). My friend Craig and I had been thinking about a place to grab a drink, and he suggested "Your Country Sports Bar," a spot he used to visit when he lived off Fairview. True to its reputation, George feels like a faded pair of 501's compared to Pacific Street's Seven for True Religion scene. (Craig lovingly refers to the area's laid-back contingent as "Lone Star gays," a tag I can get behind.) And, like at any watering hole worth its wood paneling, the bartenders will make time for conversation. Aaron mixed us something he called a Raspberry Cordial while he gave us an abbreviated version of his story.
After a stint in the Army as a nuclear missile technician (in the closet, naturally), he tended bar in Las Vegas for 17 years. Less than a year ago, he visited Houston on a whim and decided to stay. He picked up a job at Mary's just before it closed and tried his best to clean it up, earning a scar on his leg when a broken toilet he was hauling out of the back yard busted apart. The first lesson I learned that night, in Aaron's words: "Porcelain is very sharp." The second, in my own: If you're at a bar like George, and the men's room (normal occupancy: three) is mysteriously locked, just go to the ladies' room, because who's gonna care?
The recipe, after the jump.
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Stir ingredients and pour over ice in a rocks glass. Delicious, but best as a dessert drink -- a little too sweet to pound all night.