If you are offended by inchoate fury, please look away now. Do not, under any circumstances read the rest of this blog.
Still with me? OK. Good.
So why am I angry?
Because of something that’s just happened in Brighton.
There are of course, many good things about Brighton, and I know because I live there. The sea. The cosmopolitan atmos. Some good coffee roasters. Brighton Gin. A premier league football team (as of one week ago). Oddball facial topiary.
But all of this good work is being undone by an inexplicably pleased-with-itself cocktail bar on the seafront that has just created what it describes as the UK’s first ‘Frosecco’ menu.
Since it is, allegedly, a UK debut, you probably don’t know what it is, so let me enlighten you. (And by ‘enlighten’ I mean ‘render you speechless with disgust and tumbling into a dark pit of existential loathing at the depths of human depravity’).
We should be doing all we can to repel this life-sapping ‘slushie booze’ concept, not encouraging it
A Frosecco is (deep breath) a slush puppy made with prosecco.
There. I said it. It’s out there now. And no matter how hard you try you will NEVER BE ABLE TO UN-THINK THIS THOUGHT. Like the time your mother put ‘pearl necklace’ into Google in search of a 30th wedding anniversary present, you will be scarred for life.
This Frosecco fruck-up follows hot on the heels of that other semi-liquid disgrace, the ‘Frosé’.
A mix of puréed fruit, rosé and, frankly, whatever crap you care to put in it (sugar? vodka? Bring it on…), this hideous drink/desert hybrid has arrived over here from either Australia or the States... science is divided on the question. Hell, it might have come from both simultaneously in a concerted pincer attack by the Forces of Darkness attempting to undermine any shred of British cultural integrity.
Frankly, aside from the fact that the perpetrators of this lurid dross should be made to stand trial at The Hague for crimes against humanity I don’t really care where it’s come from.
The point is that, like the equally dangerous Black Death in the Middle Ages, what was over there is now over here, and our very drinking culture is under attack. We should be doing all we can to repel this life-sapping ‘slushie booze’ concept, not encouraging it.
Any drink beginning with R is at risk. How long before we start to see Frieslings? Or Friojas? Hell, the linguistically illiterate and nakedly opportunistic might try Frauvignon Blancs? Or (I apologise in advance for this) a Pinot Fridgio…
If you’re a grown-up, you shouldn’t be drinking slushies
Frosé? Frosecco? This kind of frubbish is fricking awful, infantilising drinks to a degree that is unhealthy on just about all levels.
Seriously, if it’s hot outside, does anyone really find a chilled prosecco or a rosé a bit too warm… a bit too lacking in refreshment… a bit too… liquidy?
And if you genuinely believe that prosecco and rosé are a challenge to your palate that need to be helped along with half a kilo of puréed fruit and some sugar, then frankly there’s no hope for you. You might as well just mix a half-bottle of vodka with a packet of Angel Delight and wave any pretence at being a grown-up goodbye.
I have no problem with people drinking slushies. Especially if they’re under the age of ten. But booze doesn’t belong in them any more than it belongs in breakfast cereal.
If you’re a kid, you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.
If you’re a grown-up, you shouldn’t be drinking slushies.
That’s the law.
We need to band together to stop this horror now.
This whole Frozen thing? We need to let it go…