Last month, I went to a whiskey tasting event. Two hours, three pages of handwritten notes - front and back - and six pours of whiskey from Ireland, Scotland, Kentucky and Japan later, I feel like I could walk up to any mixologist behind a mahogany-paneled bar and hold my own in a convo about the "Water of Life".

In vino veritas. In cervesio felicitas. And (as far as I'm concerned) in cocktails, rebirth. Since I've expanded my repertoire to include spirits, in my brief but noble quest to find my signature drink I've gravitated toward ginger-centric libations. (The logic behind this? Ginger makes it virtually hangover-proof.)