Daiquiris, Derby Day, and the Dangers of Drunk Leprechauns

In Maine, we’ve got mud season, black fly season, and now we’re ushering in Daiquiri Season. That’s right, D-A-I-Q-U-I-R-I, daiquiri, noun. Say it like you’re at the Scripps Howard spelling bee and you’ve just studied your little heart out while sipping rum.

Bob waltzed into Blueberry Broadcasting at 8:09 AM sharp (yes, A.M., like the breakfast hour) to educate Ric and Andy—standing in for the vacationing George Hale—on the fine art of shaking up a daiquiri. He came bearing bottles, ambition, and 79% Irish ancestry. But before they could say “muddle this,” the conversation veered off-road into the thorny woods of toasted vs. finished vs. flavored whiskey. Daiquiris took a backseat for now.

Instead, they sniffed, sipped, and sighed through Michter’s Toasted Barrel Bourbon and Old St. Nick’s Winter Maple Edition, comparing bourbon barrels to morning toast (yes, really). They got philosophical—esophageal warmth and all—debating whether maple-flavored bourbon counts as cheating or genius. Spoiler: They voted genius.

And no, Bob doesn’t drink on St. Patrick’s Day (despite the leprechaun jokes). Yes, Derby Day is sacred. And no, you can’t have his Old St. Nick unless you cross state lines like it’s Prohibition again.

Will he head back and talk daiquiris? You bet your muddler.  But remember, it’s not the date on the calendar that decides your drink—it’s your vibe. Call, text, spell daiquiri out loud for fun: 207-814-0177.  Cheers!