We at the Booze Quest Labs have been taking the past couple months researching the best Bloody Mary. It’s been quite painstaking and extensive, but I think I’ve found the perfect mixture of tomato juice, spices, garnishes, and any other item that can make an outstanding cocktail. Here are my findings:
Jerry’s Deli, Studio City, CA:
Glass: daiquiri glass
Consistency:watery
Strength: weak. Probably less than 1 shot of vodka
Garnish: lemon wedge
Analysis: Seeing the paleness of the cocktail got my hopes up that it would be a stronger drink, but it was just water that made the Bloody Mary at Jerry’s so washed-out. I barely tasted any kick or spices, so it tasted essentially like a watery tomato juice. Even after adding Tabasco sauce, it still was not tasty enough.
Final score: 3/10
Wood Ranch Restaurant, The Grove, CA:
Glass: pint glass, salt-rimmed
Consistency:thick, with a viscosity level of approximately 3 outta 5.
Strength: strong. Probably about 1 1/2 shots of vodka
Garnish: lemon and celery stalk
Analysis: Nothing surprising here. This is your standard, run-of-the-mill Bloody Mary that you learn in bartending school. Nothing inventive or new, but the taste was good enough to kick it over an average rating.
Final score: 6/10

The Lobster, Santa Monica Pier, CA:
Glass: highball glass
Consistency:thick, with a viscosity level of approximately 4 outta 5
Strength: strong. Probably about 2 shots of vodka
Garnish: celery stalk, lemon wedge, jumbo-sized shrimp
Analysis: The spices were well-toned and the vodka was evenly distributed. The garnish of a jumbo-sized shrimp made this taste like a shrimp cocktail with vodka. Which, in my book, is absolutely delicious.
Final score: 9.5/10
Cheesecake Factory, Brentwood, CA:
Glass: pint glass, salt-rimmed
Consistency: thick, with a viscosity level of approximately 4 outta 5
Strength: strong. Probably about 2 1/2 shots of vodka (only after I flirted with the bartender for 15 minutes.)
Garnish: 2 huge pimento-stuffed olives, celery stalk
Analysis: So close… However, there wasn’t any good kick in the mixture. I spotted that another of their cocktails on the menu came with bleu cheese-stuffed olives, so I thought I’d try an additional Bloody Mary with this garnish. This proved to be a drastic improvement.
Final score: 9/10
Sweepea’s Lounge, Los Angeles, CA:
Glass: chilled pint glass
Consistency:thick, with a viscosity level of approximately 4 outta 5
Strength: strong. I filled it to about 2 1/2 inches, with ice.
Garnish: 3 bleu cheese-stuffed olives, celery stalk
Analysis: Using Mr. & Mrs. T’s Bloody Mary mix (that you can get on any grocery store in the liquor aisle), the additional tang of the bleu cheese in the olives adds a superb taste to the mixture that can simply be stated in one word: perfection.
Final score: 10/10
Final Results: My version of the Bloody Mary was compiled by taking the above analysis and experimenting with various mixtures in numerous stages until I reached the highest exactness. Most noteworthy about the Mr. & Mrs. T’s mix is that it also comes in a bold variety. Therefore I have proven that the “Little Red Hen” philosophy is correct: If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.

Drink #2: We’re seated in a small gallery near the front. It’s a cheesy act of a George-Hamilton-type man and his typical floozy showgirl sidekick. He is holding an ashtray in his hand and then lets it go, apparently to appear as if it disappears. But I see the cord attached to his coat that helps the ashtray whip back into the folds of his jacket, and I spontaneously yell out, “Strings!” My friend next to me shushes me. “But I saw the string,” I tell her. She says to me, “You’ve finished your second Singapore Sling. How can you see anything at this point?”
Drink #3: We go to the main showroom. After a couple less-amazing acts, the main ‘illusionist’ comes on. He’s really good. At one point he looks for a volunteer and of course he picks me. I get up on stage and he asks me to close my hands into fists and put my arms across my chest. Then he proceeds to do some kind of lead-up to a trick, using pieces of paper shaped like hands. He lights the paper and it goes up into a fantastic ring of smoke with a popping noise. Then he looks at me. He has not touched me the entire time I’ve been at the castle. And he has not spoken to me since bringing me onstage and telling me to cross my arms across my chest.
But now he asks me to take my arms and hold them straight out. I do. Then he tells me to open my hands up to the audience. I do, and the audience gasps. Their faces are wide-eyed, jaw-dropping, and surprised. I’m confused, and finally I look at my hands. There’s an ashen burn mark on my palms. How did they get there? I think, as applause is ringing in my ears. I go back to my seat, my head spinning. The show ends and I make my way with my friends out of the showroom. We all head to the bar.
Drink #4 & 5: Several people stop me and ask how he did it. “I don’t know,” I tell them. “I’ve never met him before and he didn’t touch me the whole time.” An old man with his wife buy me another drink, saying the expression on my face was priceless. My friends all question me if I felt anything, if I remember him touching my hands in any way. No, I tell them. But it freaks me out, even when I make it home.
Final total: 5
Major after effects: One hell of a hangover, and I still don’t know how I got that shit on my hands. Now I think my hands are cursed. Does anyone know of a good exorcist?

Round #2: Jose Cuervo shot, Budweiser chaser
Gina is doing well – she’s now up $20 total. I decide to cash out for a while and watch her. I realize that spending the money on alcohol is better than pumping it into slot machines: the payout is much better. After another half hour I try a new machine on the other side of Gina and order another round.
Round #3: Jose Cuervo shot, Budweiser chaser
A woman sits down near us and takes out her money. Perplexed, Gina and I stop and watch her as she rubs the entire machine up and down with the money. Then she proceeds to rub the bills all over herself. The woman finally puts the money in the slot machine and murmurs: “Bonusbonusbonusbonusbonusbonusbonus…” Then she takes a finger and traces the screen gently. It may take me more drinks to get to that point of superstition, so I signal the waitress and order another round.
Round #4: Well Tequila shot, Budweiser chaser
I just hit a bonus round that gives me 70 bucks. I scream, drawing in a couple gawkers who are now wanting my machine. There’s no way in hell I’m giving this machine up now. Gina reasons with me that the likelihood of hitting another bonus round again is extremely slim. She tears me away from the machine, and I reluctantly leave the casino up $30 for the night.
It’s day two of our casino trip, and after a huge and super late lunch (that included a few Bloody Mary’s) we head to the bar and order the first round.
Round #1: Well Tequila shot, Margarita chaser
The bartender cards us, and I delight in showing him my ID. He looks at and says I look much better in person. I thank him, adding “Doesn’t everyone look better than their driver’s license?” And he says “Not this good.” I tip him an extra couple bills and promise I’ll return.
Gina and I head to the other side of the casino and try our luck on those slots. We find two machines next to each other and put in a 20 again. Immediately Gina hits a bonus round and we both scream. The man next to us covers his ears and says, “Ow, my ears.” Gina replies, “Turn down your hearing aid next time.” He grunts, cashes out, and leaves. Gina and I wonder if he realizes he’s in the middle of a casino, not a library. Another hour later, she’s up $20, I’m down $10. We decide it’s time to take a break and hit the bar again.
Round #2: Well Tequila shot, Margarita chaser
After we do our shot a man sitting at the bar looks at my t-shirt that reads ‘What’s a nice girl like me doing in a place like this?’ and says, “I give up, what are you doing here?” And I reply, “Losing badly.” He shakes his head. “I just dropped $500 in 5 minutes.” And I say, “Ooh, not that badly.” He buys Gina and me another shot, hoping we’ll bring him better luck.
Round #3: Free Tequila shot, Conona chaser
We do the shot with the man, thank him, and hit the slots again. Gina heads to another group of machines – I go back to my lucky one from yesterday. I sit down and put in a 20, just as a man sits next to me. “You’re at my machine,” he tells me in broken English. I look at him to see if he’s joking. “This seat was empty,” I tell him. “That’s my machine,” he insists. I keep playing and ignore him. Minutes later, I hit a bonus round, which angers the man even more. He says, “That’s my money” in his thick accent. “Then give me back the 20 bucks I put in the machine,” I say. But once I complete my bonus round I cash out and get the hell outta there. I find Gina and we get one last drink before calling it a night.
Round #4: Well Tequila shot, Corona chaser
We toast to a great weekend and I fill her in on the strange foreign man. She says earlier she got into a fight with an old woman over her machine, too. We learn just how possessive some people can be with the slot machines. And superstitious.
Final total: 8 rounds of shots and chasers throughout the weekend, and a couple Bloody Mary’s at brunch.
Major after effects: I pretty much broke even, leaving with about the same amount I came with including all the alcohol and food. And I depart the casino satisfied that this weekend my gambling vice has paid for my drinking vice.

Drink #2: Mmm…this time the Mojito has the perfect blend of mint, sugar, and rum. Gina is telling us about her ex-boyfriend who would say the most bizarre things in bed. This sends us all up in to laughter for a good ten minutes. Some of us laugh longer, depending how much we’ve been drinking or how much we can relate. My throat hurts from laughing so hard so I know it’s time for another drink.
Drink #3: Whoo! This one’s stronger. A great sweet minty taste – but mostly the flavor of rum. Thank you, Mr. Bartender! I could kiss you. Maybe after another drink. In the meantime I’m listening to Sasha tell us how her husband flexes in front of the mirror every morning. The waiter comes by and asks if we want one more round, but I think he’s trying to quiet us down. At any rate we order another.
Drink #4: This Mojito is poi-fect! We’re talking about horrible pickup lines. “How about you sit on my lap and we talk about the first thing that pops up?” is deemed the winner of the worst line heard. Then the conversation goes to bad first dates. Of course, I have the funniest story because I go on so many bad first dates. I realize it may be pity laughter as I’m the only real single girl in the group. I call the waiter over and order more Mojiots, and before he walks away, I ask him how he’s doing. I hope he’s not annoyed with us for being so loud. He says no and that the next round will be on him.
Drink #5: This is by far the most fantastic Mojito – maybe because it’s free. Time for the girls to complain about their men. Missy criticizes her husband’s cleanliness, saying she can’t get him to pick up his clothes. Summer complains that her boyfriend doesn’t like the same TV shows she does, so they end up arguing over what to watch. Sasha wishes her husband wouldn’t nitpick about what she makes for dinner. Score three for the single girl. I gulp down the rest of my Mojito in triumph and flag the waiter down to order another, but instead Gina gets the check and says it’s time to go home.
Final total: 5
Major after effects: Greater insight on relationships, a lot of dirt on my friends’ men, and a HUGE hangover. I don’t blame the Mojitos. I blame my friends.

I discover the worst part about being a bartender: You’re too busy mixing drinks that you don’t get to drink as much. I’m getting tired of this already. Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t graduate from Bartending School… I finish batch numbah three which means one for them and the rest for me.
Drink #2: Whoo, made this one a little strong. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, mind you. Sasha is trying to fix me up with her husband’s co-worker wearing a Polo shirt. She keeps bringing him by the bar as I’m mixing the drinks. Polo Shirt tells me how good these martinis are and I’m skeptical: what kind of man likes to drink pink martinis? I put that aside for the moment and make up a third batch.
Drink #3: I’m thinking that this cocktail is starting to live up to its name. Or is it my role as the bartender? At any rate, I already have 30 bucks in my tip jar, which is really a red Dixie cup. I call last batch of Flirtinis! And I get a few people hanging around the bar with cocktail glasses expectantly leaning in. This time I make them extra heavy and add a splash of Peach Schnapps for an added kick. Then I pour myself a heaping plenty.
Drink #4: Last Flirtini of the day; then someone else has to play bartender. The addition of Peach Schnapps gives it a more tropical, passion-fruit-type flavor and it’s really good. Sasha is certainly talking me up to Polo Shirt, almost to the point of embarrassment. I try to downplay it a bit but it just makes it worse. Oh well, after I clean up I won’t be stuck behind the bar and I can mosey off to find my other friends.
Final total: 4 Flirtinis, and then many more drinks after playing bartender.
Major after effects: A total of $45 in tips, Polo Shirt’s number which I probably won’t call (likes pink martinis for chrissake), and a hangover of an 6.5 on the Richter scale.

Drink# 2: The waitress brings me my second compliant drink, and just as she’s leaning in to tell me my total, the comedian says to her, “Hey, you make a better barn door than a window.” I’m now glad she brought me the second drink already, because this is going to be a long night. Finally he finishes to docile applause, and I try to remain positive that the next one will be better.
Unfortunately the next comic isn’t that good either. “Who chose to spell the word dyslexia? Let’s make the word really hard to spell for the people who have trouble reading and spelling.” I’m so bored that I don’t know if I can make it until Tess comes on. But then Thomas orders another round for everyone and I feel like I can make it.
Drink #4: With a new Vodka Collins in hand, I listen as the comedian is going on and on. Finally Thomas leans in and mutters, “Why doesn’t this guy go back to his job at the 76 station?” and for some reason this makes me laugh really loud. So loud that the comedian has stopped talking and is looking right at me. “You’re not even paying attention,” he tells me.
“That’s because this guy is funnier than you,” I say. The comedian throws Thomas a dirty look and then glares at me. Then – to everyone’s surprise – he throws his microphone down and stomps offstage. Everybody around me starts clapping so I join in, and the MC comes onstage and looks furtively in to the crowd. Jim is laughing so hard he’s promised to buy me my next drink. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve seen all night,” he says as the waitress brings another.
Drink #5: Three more comedians walk onstage and do their bit, but each avoids eye contact with our table. I’m surprised because when a comedian calls you out, you expect him to be prepared for someone who talks back. Oh well. I decide to focus on my Vodka Collins. The drink is very fizzy, and I find myself staring at the bubbles until Tess’ turn.
Tess finally comes on and does really well. She’s by far the funniest comedian of the night, although that’s not saying much compared to the others. Afterward, we all go outside to congratulate her, and I make sure Thomas and Jim walk me to my car so that I’m not assaulted by a bunch of angry comics.
Final total: 5 drinks
Major after effects: Hardly any effect at all, as I remained pretty sobered-up by bad stand-up comedy. Either that or the bartender was watering down the drinks, which would explain the abundance of bubbles.

Drink #2: Looks like the bartender added an extra bit of Jack; the drink’s looking darker. I turn and Sexual Harassment Sam is standing there, smiling at me. “What are you looking at?” I say, feeling like a bad ass now. “You’re looking good tonight,” he says. I give him a weak smile and steer myself away from him. I’m thinking being around Sexual Harassment Sam while drinking Long Islands is not a good idea.
Unfortunately I run smack in to one of my kazillion bosses. “How you doing?” he asks. And I’m in for a full five minutes of business-small-talk-bullshit. I finally break from him and head back towards the bar. I make sure to get the same bartender and signal him for another before we’re seated for dinner.
Drink #3: I’m seated at a table with some of my co-workers. At this point I’m beginning to feel like the smartest girl here. Hell, the bartender said so. We’re asked by a very cute waiter what we want to eat. Before anyone can answer someone spills their drink on the guy next to me. “Man, who did that?” I say, wiping off the guy’s leg. He tells me to please stop wiping his lap area. I start laughing, thinking how incredibly funny it is for someone to have already spilled their drink. I go to sip my Long Island and – wait a second. The glass is empty. And tipped over.
Suddenly I’m at a different table and I’m hugging Tall Thomas. He’s taking a picture of us, and I raise up my glass, which is now magically full, and shout “Cheeeeeeese!”
Drink #4? I inform Tall Thomas that I’ve always thought he was a nice guy, no matter what all the rumors are saying about him. He asks me to explain further, and I’m about to get in to more detail when I’m taken outside by my friend Annie. She wants to have a cigarette with me. It seems to take forever as we snake our way through the crowd. I talk to some people on the way, but I can’t remember who it was or what I said. We finally make it outside and I see that I have a new full Long Island in my hand.
Drink #5? We’re sitting outside on a patio area talking about some of the other people at work. Sexual Harassment Sam comes outside to see how I am and Annie shoos him away.
Next thing I know I’m at the valet station and my car is in front of me. My friend Rob. has offered to take me home. He’s removing the glass from my hand as I ask him, “Where’s my purse?” “It’s on your arm,” he says and shoves me into the car.
On the way home I tell him how proud I am that I didn’t make that much of a fool of myself, even though I drank three Long Island Iced Teas. Rob is quick to remind me that I had more than that, but I still don’t believe him.
Final total: 3 that I remember.
Major after effects: Reputation at work as a solid drinker still in tact. Reputation at work as “innocent” is slightly tarnished. I’ve also decided that I should never drink Long Islands in front of co-workers again.

Missy has yet to show so I order another. This time it’s with a waiter, so I tell him, “Not too spicy and no salt on the rim” just to be sure.
Drink #2: The waiter arrives with what looks like a Strawberry Daiquiri. He sets it in front of me and I’m perplexed, but the waiter confirms that it’s my drink. Have I morphed into the Bizarro World of Bloody Marys? This time the bartender has decided to blend the Bloody Mary. I’m speechless. I have never had salt on the rim of a Bloody Mary, and I was finally getting used to that. Now this guy has provided me with a whole other Cocktail Enigma to decipher. I take a sip and it’s not that bad. Weird that it’s like a tomato shake, but nonetheless… No salt on the rim, but still too spicy.
Where the hell is Missy? Looks like she’s going to be a while longer, and now I’ve got brain freeze. I break through the pain and push on. It’s for Science, people! And Sorry Drunks everywhere! Oh good, here comes the waiter. I can’t believe how specific I have to be with him now. I’ve never been this picky when ordering a cocktail. “Bloody Mary, no salt, on the rocks, not too spicy, with a celery stalk.”
Drink #3: I’m convinced that this bartender is a revolutionary in the world of Bloody Mary’s. This time the waiter arrives with a Bloody Mary, blended, in a huge oversized novelty glass, and it’s not only garnished with a celery stalk, but a pepperoncini. This is like the Kandinsky of Bloody Mary’s…it’s brilliant, yet baffling.
Finally Missy arrives. We all shout “Surprise!” and a few people look at me as I cheer a bit after the applause subsides. I don’t care because I got a pepperoncini with my drink. Did any of them get a pepperoncini with their drink? Hell, it’s just fun to say pepperoncini. The food arrives and we all get up to stand in line for the buffet. I take my drink and ask every person in line if they’ve ever heard of a Bloody Mary with salt on the rim? Or blended? Or served with a pepperoncini? At this point it’s now really difficult to say pepperoncini.
Drink #4: One of my friends has ordered another round for us, so by the time I get back to the table a brand spankin’ new Bloody Mary is waiting for me. It’s in a normal glass this time with a celery stalk, on the rocks. I’m a little disappointed. All creativity has been drained from this cocktail. Now it looks so boring. But it’s still a cocktail, right?
Next thing I know my friend is driving me home and I’m elucidating my newfound appreciation of the Bloody Mary the whole way home. What else could make this mixture distinctive? Many have substituted vodka with various alcohols, making it into a Bloody Maria, or a Danish Mary, etc. But how many have thought of adding an awesome element like the inspired pepperoncini? So much can be done with a Bloody Mary, and we have yet to explore it’s true potential.
Final total: 4 drinks of varying invention – and alcohol content.
Major after effects: Wild ideas of genius and assorted philosophies behind the power of the Bloody Mary (and the bartender), yet simultaneously drinking an exceptional portion of P3 for the week…and not a smidgen of a hangover the next morning. Yee-ha.

Drink#2: This drink looks more red. More conversation with my companions. I seem to be talking a little bit louder, but that might be because the opening band is getting louder. I order a salad to keep something in my stomach, but the salad is gross and so I don’t eat it. Instead I order another drink. Lou points out that he hasn’t even finished his first drink yet. [Ed.Note: In my defense, I was too busy staring at the female lead singer to be bothered with my little Jack & Coke]
Drink #3: The drink comes and it looks even more red than the first. This comforts me, as I know the bartender is skewing the juice-to-vodka ratio every time, and that works out in my favor because now I can just drink more. The music starts and my buddy’s band is really good. They’re playing classic songs and I find that I’m singing to myself. No one’s looking at me so I’m guessing I’m not too loud. But I decide to slow down a bit because I’m running low on cash and these drinks are way too expensive to just be cranberry juice with a splash of vodka.
My friend ends his set and we all congratulate him. We all head out onto the sidewalk and decide to continue the night at a sushi place nearby. I don’t feel like I can drive, so I give my keys to Lou. Next thing I know I’m at the Sushi Bar, ordering my fourth drink.
Drink #4: This one tastes really good, mostly because it’s made by a new bartender who’s starting their whole juice-to-vodka ratio again. The coloring looks different, and when I ask Lou why, he says I ordered a Seabreeze instead of a Cape Cod; the difference being grapefruit juice. I wonder if I just ruined my whole experiment, thereby failing my first Booze Quest. Oh well, I figure it has the basic ingredients and still counts.
I’m really hungry, and someone put a plate of sushi in front of me. It’s a friend’s and she insists I have some, so I help myself to some spicy tuna roll. I later regret the combination of alcohol, grapefruit juice, and raw fish.
Drink #5: Apparently the bartender is giving us these drinks for free as Lou is flirting with her. Bonus! Another Seabreeze appears in front of me and I keep drinking it. I’m still talking to my friends, but at the same time I’m egging on Lou to keep it up with the bartender, since I’m out of money.
Next thing I know I’m getting into my car. Lou’s driving me home. I believe I didn’t have a drink #6, but at this point…who knows?
Final total: 5 drinks – that I know of.
Major after effects: I woke up the next morning with an empty wallet, an unidentified bruise on my elbow, a medium-sized hangover, and some soreness in my legs and back. At least Lou left a note saying where he parked the car.
[Ed.Note: Of course I would leave a note. I am a gentleman after all. Shit, most girls I drive home, I have to leave a twenty on the nightstand. Hope your bruises and soreness have gotten better, and hope I had nothing to do with that. God knows I don't remember either.]