For some odd reason, during my college years, my friends and I became obsessed with bocce ball (Italian lawn bowling). There was this little Italian restaurant/bar/bocce court on the outskirts of town and somehow (thanks Scottel) it became our regular hangout. The place was an old school Italian place, with a no nonsense old timey bartender to match. You know, the kind of guy who looks you in the eye and makes you a little bit afraid. The kind of guy you probably should only order a simple drink, like scotch on the rocks or something else that would put hair on your chest.
Well, at the time, we were all slowly turning 21 (I say slowly because I was the youngest and man it was taking forever) and what in the world did we know? Our first night there, my friend Blair, high off of just turning 21 a month or so before, looked our bartender in the eye and said, "I'd like a grasshopper please." The rest of us stood still and tried hard to close our gaping mouths while the bartender said, "Boy, what in the hell is a grasshopper?" Trying to sound assertive, Blair explained that it was a minty frothy drink and our bartender, not used to seeing folks like us in his bar (like I said it was right outside of town, so most college kids never set foot inside), just sort of shook his head and said, "All right. I'll see what I can do." Fast-forward a few months and our group had been dubbed "grasshoppers", and good ol Al (I think that was his name, but you know, I'm really horrible at details) would have the ingredients ready for us when we arrived. Turns out our little ol' bartender turned out to be not so scary after all. To check out the recipe for your own grasshopper, read more