You can’t buy bourbon in Dallas on Christmas day.
We planned pork tenderloin with apricot/bourbon filling. Wonderful recipe.
But we needed a cup of bourbon, and when we got to the liquor cabinet, we had only about a quarter cup left in a bottle.
We aren’t bourbon drinkers. The last time we used bourbon was the last time we cooked pork tenderloin with apricot/bourbon filling . . .
So at about 10:00 a.m. I headed out of our nearly-dry end of the county to a precinct rife with liquor stores. If any place was selling bourbon on Christmas day, it would likely be among this small city of liquor stores just off I-35, near the sinning areas of Harry Hines Blvd. and a couple of truck stops.
A mile down the road the new quickee mart was open, selling beer and wine. No hard liquor in this precinct, though.
12 miles up the road, past the doomed Texas Stadium, I passed four liquor stores at one exit, all dark. At the next exit, the gas station at a liquor store was open. The main liquor store next door was dark, but I was hopeful.
Inside, one man with an obvious need for a hit of something bargained with one employee over the price of a can of malt liquor. Another customer queried the other counter man about where he could get a ribbon for the can of beer he’d just bought for his girlfriend, sleeping outside in the car. Merry Christmas, baby.
No ribbons. It would be an unwrapped, un-beribboned can of beer.
“What are the chances of finding some bourbon?” I asked. The guy looked at me like I came from Mars. His store was selling cheap alcohol in tiny amounts to people down on their luck, but of me he wanted to know: “What are you doing with bourbon so early in the day?”
Cooking, I told him.
“You won’t find any today. State law. All the stores are closed.”
The sauce would have been better with more bourbon, I think. What else would I be doing with bourbon on Christmas morning?