A Dutch woman gave me the lowdown on the caprioska while we were sitting at the swim-up bar, drinking caipirinhas, at a resort in Aruba last week.  Yes.  Swim-up bar.  Aruba.  Perfect caipirinhas.  Dutch people who earned a fortune making vacuum-sealing machines and now live in Bonaire.  I guess that’s how you make a lot of money when you suck.

Our bartender for the week, Lito, had learned how to make caipirinhas from an uppity Brazilian guy who once corrected his technique.  We were praising his skills, tipping well, getting free drinks, and being fat / dumb / happy.  Then the nice Dutch woman said we should try a caprioska.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a caipirinha with vodka instead of cachaça.”

Oh shit.  She said the V word.  Now I have to plaster a dumb smile on my face and pretend I’m interested.  But then we remembered.  A very generous friend had gifted us with a bottle of bison grass vodka for our last big party.  We had our doubts, but after a sip, we were sold.  Do I know what the hell bison grass is?  Fuck no.  But it makes a damned tasty vodka.  It’s got a subtle vanilla flavor, is very smooth, and feels more like a sweet (Old Tom) gin to me.  Only problem is that other than sipping, we didnt’ know what to do with it.  The delicate flavor just gets wiped out with mixers.


3 oz Bak’s Bison Grass Vodka
Half a lime (sliced crossways into six pieces)
4-5 rough-cut cubes La Perruche white sugar

Put everything in a cocktail shaker.  Muddle the hell out of it.  Stompity stomp stomp stomp.  Shake it hard with ice and pour the whole thing into a rocks glass.  Stick a couple cocktail straws in it.  Tip your bartender.  Surruptitiously pee in the pool.

If you can’t get the La Perruche sugar, plain old sugar cubes are ok.  If you can’t get the bison grass vodka, for chrissakes, make a caipirinha.