If any of your friends know that you like making cocktails, there’s a fair chance that, at some stage, they are going to give you the gift of booze. And seriously, what could be better?

But if your friends are anything like ours, the booze you receive won’t be anything you usually drink. That, it seems, would be far too obvious.

Instead, it will inevitably be a liqueur that they thought was ‘perfect’ for you.

Why is it perfect? Well, it doesn’t take long to piece together their unchallengeable logic, as it usually falls into one of three categories. Either a) they’ve never heard of it; b) it was something their parents had in their liquor cabinet, but they haven’t seen around for a while or c) it comes in a pretty/unusual/totally impractical bottle.

Obscure Liqueur

Now don’t get us wrong, sometimes this can be great. Occasionally, without intending to, your friends can stumble on a liqueur you really want but didn’t think you’d use frequently enough to justify the purchase.

But, more often than not, there was a reason you never bought that bottle of … let’s say … Creme De Menthe. And strangely, it’s not the colour. Realistically, aside from making the occasional Grasshopper, what on earth do you do with it?

And this is where you start to realise the real problem. You see, without necessarily meaning to, your friend has gifted you into the Obscure Liqueur Vortex or the OLV. And trust me, once you’re been dragged inside, it’s very hard to get out.

Unlike other presents that you can easily wear or display the next time you see them, Liqueurs present a couple of unique problems.

The first one is pretty obvious. Your friend will need /request / insist on seeing evidence that you’ve not only opened the bottle but you are also using it. And unfortunately, with liqueurs, you can’t just pour the odd shot and be done with it. So what follows is where the friendship really gets tested.

Make It Work

You see, inevitably, there will come a time in the not-too-distant future when your friend will say that fatal line, “Why don’t we make something with that Creme De Menthe I got you.” And then the true nightmare begins.

Not only do you need to know what to make with that minty green goblin of the liqueur world, but it also has to be good. It needs to be so amazing that it somehow justifies their choice. Trust me; you will drink it every time you see them until that bottle is finished.

So you do a bit of research. An Emerald Isle, with Gin, Creme De Menthe & Bitters, could be OK. Even a Shamrock, with Irish Whiskey, Sweet Vermouth & Creme De Menthe, could be passable. But it’s when you start to play around with the Amaretto, Creme De Mente & Lemon Juice found in an Irish Pride, you begin to see a bit of a theme.

You see, Creme De Menthe is so rarely used in the real world that the only time it’s brought out is St Patricks Day or weird 1970s cocktail revivals.

But you forge ahead and make these drinks anyway because you’re a good friend.

The flow-on effect

So you’ve made a few cocktails with the creme de menthe, and they’ve turned out OK, so you’re hoping that is pretty much the end of it. After all, you’ve done the right thing. You’ve met your social obligation. But then, a bizarre thing happens.

Shortly after, you find yourself on your way to meet another friend for a drink at a bar, but unfortunately, you’re running a little late. You text them to be polite and arrive a few minutes after that, but in that time, they’ve bought you a drink.

And there, looking undervalued and underloved, is a Grasshopper cocktail. The bartender smirks and pushes it toward you.

And all at once, you realise, without intending it or even wanting it, that your years of fostering a good knowledge of Whisk(e)y, Rum or Tequila are no longer relevant. You see, now, you have become (to everyone in your circle … and to bartenders you don’t even know), the thing you feared most.

You are now, and forever will be, that person who is obsessed with … Creme De Menthe… and it’s a vortex from which you will never escape …