I was happy when the weather turned foul this afternoon. I had to work early, and it appeared as though it was going to be a beautiful day, which was annoying because I had the Sunday Times and there's a basketball game I'd like to watch without feeling guilty for not being outside. So when it began to rain I sighed a sigh of relief and decided that making perfect bloody mary's would be an appropriate way of taking full advantage of a Sunday indoors.

So, according to lore, a Frenchman named Fernand Petiot was the first to mix vodka and tomato juice, at Harry's New York Bar in Paris. When Mons. Petiot came to New York, specifically to the King Cole Bar in the St. Regis Hotel, sophisticated New Yorkers asked him to spice it up a bit. Mons. Petiot added pepper, cayenne, lemon, Worstchester and Tobasco, and a legend was born. I like mine with a little olive juice and celery salt, and instead of Tobasco I love Chalupa. Rob at the Redhead makes his with a chipotle infused mixer. A bar on Avenue A infuses their vodka with bacon. Some like to substitute Clamato for tomato juice; the hint of shellfish seems to work well with the spice.

The best bloody mary I've ever had was at the Cliff House in San Francisco. Tom and Jerry's on Elizabeth St. has two for one specials every Saturday. How the bloody mary became the de facto morning after hangover cure, I don't know. I think that maybe it's because they're often garnished with celery, olives, sometimes a shrimp, so even those whose stomach won't allow them a regular meal can receive some sustenance. Whether or not one could survive on bloody mary's alone is up for debate; what is not up for debate is the level of attention required to make a good one. This is why there is always a momentary pause when asking for a bloody mary. Is the bar too busy? Is the time right? Some bartenders won't make them past, say, 3 in the afternoon. Others relish the opportunity to show their skill and will keep you in the action all night long.

Mons. Petiot named the drink as he did because it reminded him of a girl he knew at the Bucket of Blood Club in Chicago. What about this cocktail was reminiscent of this girl, we are left to ponder. What we do know, however, is that Mary I of England did not kill children so that she may bathe in their blood to preserve her beauty. According to the historians, she had no beauty to preserve.