The Gin-Gin Fizz Effect
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
“Well, think about the Gin-Gin Fizz Effect,” he said.
Being on the ground floor of building a highly anticipated food establishment, it isn’t uncommon to spend an hour here or there in intense conversation about the evolution of the food-and-beverage culture surrounding us.
With keg tubage the width of a dinner plate in his hands, our newest team member contributed this theory to our discussion on the current state of the Saratoga restaurant scene.
“People go for the Gin-Gin Fizz,” he didn’t have to finish his thought, we finished it in unison.
People go to Hamlet & Ghost for the iconic cocktail, an aromatic gin and citrus cocktail chilled under a fluffy egg white froth. But they come back for the killer ambiance, the excellent service, and the no-skip menu.
We started to rattle off examples.“The Sunday Sauce at Solevo,” “The Almond Croissant at Miss London’s, ” quickly becoming “the fried spaghetti at Noah’s,” a newly opened Italian spot. And of course, our own icon: the Bear Claw at Bear’s Cup.
Some things are so good, so deeply themselves, that they become iconic, and the reason people walk through the door.
I am in uncharted territory in my life. I never saw myself working in business. Forever, I have identified as a “writer.” I am no Wolf of Wall Street, I am Jo March. I envisioned my adult life working in libraries and publishing houses, closer to the books, closer to my dreams of being an author.
Last Spring, while working as an elementary school librarian, I read Harry Potter aloud to the 6th graders. I’d had a particularly rough day at my terribly paying job, and a quote from Dumbledore hit hard.
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
I had a real identity crisis after college. I had built my identity around being a screenwriter, only to work on one short film and learn that I truly hate production and have no interest in that world.
But to give up being a “screenwriter” felt like giving up myself.
Being a writer was my Gin-Gin Fizz, but it was all I ordered for dinner. It went straight to my head, trying to fill up on foam, going hungry as I watched the egg froth melt into my bev.
I had become so invested in my “dream,” that I left my life to the wayside.
I let writing go for almost two years. No dream to cling to. No imaginary future life to daydream toward. I explored other parts of myself, interests, and curiosities previously left unexplored.
I went on long walks. I got into yoga. I tried crafts, painting, and knitting. I started making vlogs. I listened to music—so much music. And quite naturally, I found my way back to writing.
Being a writer is my Gin-Gin Fizz. It’s what I want to be known for, it’s one of the first things I’ll tell you about me, I hope it’s how other people talk about me. But it was never meant to be the whole meal.
I love you from my head tomatoes,
Gareth