I decided to start my mocktail quest off with that simplest of drinks, the gin and tonic. With multiple nuances brought on by using different gins, it's probably my favorite cocktail -- biting, tart, and tinged with bitterness, it reminds me of myself on my best days.

Now, the main problem with the gin and tonic mocktail is the complete lack of, well, gin, so it is key that the tonic be the shining star for once. Have I bludgeoned you to death with my opinions on tonic? Yes, I know I have, so I will skip all that, because you now KNOW that Fever-Tree is the only way to go, and head right to the gin conundrum.

Enter DRY Soda. Well, the DRY Sodas are a bit sweet for me to call myself a big fan, but that doesn't mean I was against trying their newest juniper flavor as a gin stand-in. Nothing could be more simple than to measure out two ounces of Juniper DRY and mix it with Fever-Tree tonic and a wedge of lemon. (Or a lime if your intro to gin and tonics didn't start in a British pub in the late 90s as mine did.)

The result? Well, maybe it's a the taste equivalent of a placebo effect, but I was pretty damn happy with my faux gin and tonic. All I was after was something refreshing with a non-alcoholic edge to it, and the Fever-Tree tonic definitely provides that needed edge.

The only problem with this mocktail is that the lack of alcohol means I suck them down with abandon and then spend the rest of the night wearing down a path between the living room and the bathroom. Oh, well, at least I'm hydrating myself!

2 oz. Juniper Dry Soda
Fever-Tree tonic water
Lemon wedge, for garnish

Combine all ingredients over ice and enjoy.

It's always an honor to be asked to be part of or contribute to a wedding, but it's even more flattering when your culinary skills are called upon for said wedding.

In October, Kim specifically requested I bring my "famous potato salad" to her post-Scotland wedding reception, and last weekend, Catherine, Jeff, and all of us wedding guests toasted their happiness with my Lady in Red at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

Over the summer, Catherine -- for whom I once designed a simple birthday cocktail to go along with her gift of St. Germain elderflower liqueur -- asked if I would shake up a special wedding cocktail. Her only request: it had to be red to match her dress.

After first assessing what the Mandarin Oriental stocked in their bar, I set about to concocting the cocktail. Aside from staining its cheeks crimson, I wanted this cocktail to be three things: seasonal, celebratory, and reflective of the bride's tastes. Well, not all of that happened.

Ignoring sangria and all other wine-based cocktails of that ilk, I knew that the red hue was going to come from cranberry or pomegranate juice (seasonal!), and after a few (read: nine) attempts, I ditched the cranberry juice. It was too easily diluted in both color and flavor. I also had to ditch my idea of including both bourbon and ginger ale in this cocktail (the bride's signature drink) because no matter what I did, the bourbon came out too...bourbon-y.

A few weeks later, I started with a whole new plan and a whole new red. Now working with the stronger, tarter pomegranate juice, I cried, "Eureka" after three passes and then set to refining the flavors.

Victorious and hung-over, I presented the recipe to the bride along with a list of potential names: Ruby Slipper, Scarlet 75 (the drink is an adaptation of the classic French 75), Red Letter Day, and Lady in Red. (She chose "Lady in Red," so if you now have Chris de Burgh in your head, it's not my fault.)

(Okay, maybe it is.)

On my reserve list of names was Study in Scarlet, Red-dy or Knot (my husband's contribution), The Red Menace, The Scarlet Letter, The Cat's Meow, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose, and Redrum. (I will be saving that last one for a blood-soaked mojito or daiquiri in case Stephen King ever wants me to design a wedding cocktail for him.)

Lady in Red

2 oz. pomegranate juice
1 1/2 oz. gin
4 oz. ginger ale (preferably very spicy ginger ale)
Sparkling rosé
2-3 dashes Angostura bitters
Pomegranate seeds

Shake pomegranate juice and gin with ice; strain into a cocktail glass. Add ginger ale and top off with sparkling rose. Finish with bitters. Garnish with four pomegranate seeds for health, happiness, love, and laughter.

I am pleased and relieved to report that the drink was extremely well received. Even my French friend, who I thought preferred champagne to everything, was seen drinking more than one Lady in Red. Additionally, the bartender told someone else that he's seen a lot of guest-created cocktails pass through his shaker, but he had never seen one reordered so many times. Finally -- and most importantly -- the bride, the groom, and all my cocktailing friends loved it.

I hope you do, too.

When it come to ginger ale, I've had only one opinion: drink it when you're fluish. Since that was the childhood application for me, it's pretty hard to separate fever, nausea, and vomiting from those emerald green bottles.

Until now.

After my last Fever-Tree musing, I was invited to participate in intimate Fever-Tree event at Perbacco. Not only did I get to meet the charming Tim Warrilow, the Fever-Tree "plant hunter," but I got to experience side-by-side comparisons of Fever-Tree mixers against the leading brands.

I had already done the tonic water comparison myself. The only difference was that I had completely ignored the idea that Canada Dry tonic was even worth the plastic it was bottled in. To me, Canada Dry tonic water has a sweet, glue-like smell and an even worse flavor. At the tasting, it assailed my tastebuds with high fructose corn syrup and choked out my throat with unctuous spittle. Not attractive.

However, the ginger ale taste off was a completely different matter. Canada Dry's offering smelled and tasted like Sprite. Fine, but not really ginger ale, right? Schwepps' offering smelled like a cleaning product and tasted like practically nothing. However, Fever-Tree's ginger ale not only spiced my nostrils with raw, sliced, heady ginger but it actually tasted like ginger. In the past, I have held firm that ginger ale in cocktails is nothing compared to ginger beer. That is has to burn going down and make you sneeze after one sip. When it comes to Fever-Tree, I stand corrected. For this particular brand, I might actually relax my ginger beer stranglehold.

Fever-Tree's ginger ale, like all of Fever-Tree's mixers, are made from "all natural ingredients, sourced from around the world. A blend of natural botanicals, spring water and a touch of can sugar, Fever-Tree mixers are free of artifical preservatives, ingredients, sweeteners and coloring." Specifially, Fever-Tree Ginger Ale is made up of three different kinds of ginger: fresh, green Ecuadorean ginger, Cochin ginger from India, and Nigerian ginger from Africa.

After the tasting, I scuttled home to try out a new and very simple cocktail. Full disclosure: while Fever-Tree did give me tonic water samples, which I totally didn't need since my husband and I had just stocked up on a recent trip to BevMo, they did not give me ginger ale samples. Those I already had in the house, just for kicks.

While on the same aforementioned BevMo trip, I picked up a bottle of gin that had been a curiosity to me for quite some time. Tanqueray Rangpur gin has all the clean notes of regular Tanqueray, but has the added kick of being distilled with Rangpur limes. We first sampled the gin in a very dry straight-up martini, but the aggressive lime tones convinced me I was drinking some old l'Occitane verbena perfume. However, when combined with the Fever-Tree ginger ale, the lime was slightly muted but, like Eddie Murphy in Coming to America, still very happy to be there. The ginger sung out spicy and strong without being overly sweet, and the fragrant lime just played right into its piquant hands.

It's a great summer-time sipper that can be enjoyed when the weather gets hot again.

Rangpur and Ginger

2 ounces Tanqueray Rangpur Gin
Ice
Fever-Tree Ginger Ale

The Shake:
In an Old Fashioned, add the gin, ice, and fill to the top with ginger ale.

I'm a gin girl. Gin and Ginger, Gin and Sin, Pink Gin, Greyhound, Gin and Tonic -- I love them all. Yet despite that, up until a year ago I was unknowingly depriving myself of an entire world of gins. Sticking primarily with Tanqueray, I treated myself every once in awhile to cold, elegantly aquamarine bottles of Bombay Sapphire. It was my gin of indulgence. However, everything changed when I discovered a whole nother country of gin. Forget the Brit brands, I suddenly found myself swimming in premium gins in my own Californian backyard. First there was Gin 209, then Junipero, and now, a new gin.

New to me, Sarticious Gin is locally made in Santa Cruz by Jeff Alexander.

Two years ago, Peggy Townsend wrote a piece on the Sarticious guys for the Santa Cruz Sentinel and she explains where the crazy name came from:

It comes from this time Alexander is up in Alaska drinking, watching the Northern Lights and listening to this song by some guys called Dead Can Dance. And even though these dancing dead guys are singing about "her surreptitious smile," he hears them say "sarticious smile."

Then, when this Alexander guy can't figure out what in the heck "sarticious" means, he decides it's like if the word "sartorial" and "luscious" got together and had a baby and it would be "sarticious," which sounds like something you'd like.

How completely out-of-control awesome is that? Naming a gin because of a "Wrapped up like a douche" moment? I love these guys already!

I took one sip of Mathra's lovingly made Sarticious gin and tonic and breathed, "Citrus!" Kim -- the one responsible for taking our Sarticious virginity -- thinks it tastes like pine. Mathra thinks it tastes like Granny Smith apples. All reactions are true and valid ones, and now, after a brief scurry to BevMo and a slap-down of $30.00, I am a proud pourer of this amazingly fresh and complex gin.

Gin makers are notoriously secretive about what all goes into their gin. Other than the usual juniper berries, there is a dizzying swirl of botanticals that all conspire, flirt, and whisper behind painted fans to perfume the gin with their ethereal souls. Bombay Sapphire has tactile white etchings down one smooth side of the gem-like bottle. Run the tip of your finger over each rough botantical representation -- both in words and sketch -- and you will learn that Bombay Sapphire gin contains angelica, grains of paradise, lemon, licorice, almonds, orris root, coriander, cassia bark, and cubeb berries. The secret is how they are all balanced.

Sarticious, on the other hand, will only reveal that their gin contains "the artful blend of the best juniper berries, organic orange and cilantro, and other fresh botanicals." Very well, you can keep your cool shadowy shroud, Sarticious, for all I require is a moonstone of your gin in my glass. That is my satisfaction.

And just in case a single sip of this taste bud-smacking gin isn't recommendation enough, Alexander has liquor chops that run very deep -- he has made wine, beer, and even made Hanger 1 vodka at St. George Spirits back in the day.

The spare Sarticious site has a list of recipes, but quite frankly, the only accompaniment Sarticious needs is a few ice cubes and a splash of really good tonic water. More on that next week.

Sarticious Gin Distillery
427A Swift Street
Santa Cruz, CA

Sarticious Spirits is open for wine and gin tasting from noon-5pm, Friday-Sunday.