Rita

As I sat here on my laptop, nerding away, I was suddenly struck by the desire for a fruity, alcoholic refreshment. A margarita seemed to satisfy this craving, so off I popped downstairs to put my new found bar skills to the test.
Traditional margaritas are made up of the following:

(according to the book Retro Cocktails)

Margarita
2 parts tequila
1 part Cointreau or triple sec
1/2 freshly squeezed lime juice.

Shake with ice and strain. Rim the glass with salt. Easy, right?

Not for my liquor deprived household. My parents are predominantly beer, wine, and scotch-on-the-rocks drinkers. I either drink when I'm out or at other people's houses, so my liquor stash is very minimal. It consists of a bottle of blue label Smirnoff, Jose Cuervo tequila and a horrible honey flavoured vodka.

We do not own a cocktail shaker. We do not own standard shot glasses. We do not have Cointreau or triple sec and Mum had used the last lime to cook!

I ran around the house grabbing things that could be useful. I had to make do with what looks like the love child between a wine glass and a cocktail glass, a double shot glass and a bunch of glasses to make do as a cocktail shaker. I grabbed a bottle of Jose Cuervo's finest, a lemon, orange juice, Cotttees lime cordial and a bottle of Jose Cuervo margarita mix Dad had gotten for Christmas a few years ago.

This man is responsible for many a drunken night. We salute you, Senor Cuervo!

I poured in the ice, tequila, the margarita mix, squeezed the lemon (I suppose it was a bit rich to expect that we owned a fruit muddler) and splashed in some lime cordial over ice. I squeezed a big glass over the thinner one.
"Brilliant," thought I, and began to shake.
I then discovered that there was a particular reason why cocktail shakers were invented, and that was to stop the contents from splashing out all over the floor in a sticky, tequila-y mess.

Nevermind. I tried again, this time mashing everything around with a wooden spoon. I am so professional.

Yup.

This,

instead of this:

I poured the contents into the weird glass over more ice and filled the rest with orange juice.
It tastes like a sweeter, fruitier version of a real margarita. It's weaker, of course, without the Cointreau/triple sec, and I only used one shot of tequila (hey, I'm only at home, after all. And tequila is precious).

Dan said it's a girlyrita. I prefer to call her Rita.

And there you have it. The story of how an amateur bartender made a pretty nice drink out of minimal household objects.

Note to self: Buy a cocktail shaker next time.