Emperor Nero had a certain style which I, for one, greatly admire. Consider for a moment the difficulties and inherent discomforts of playing the violin in anything above 40 degrees centigrade. For that matter, consider the difficulties of playing the violin. This contemporary notion that Nero “fiddled” whilst Rome burned is faulty and steps need to be taken to remedy it. I simply don’t see him doing anything in the vicinity of “fiddling” whilst watching the slow roast of civilisation. A nice, steady, sustained Adagio is closer to what Nero was probably doing as the flames licked higher. Something sombre yet uplifting whilst his fellow citizens burst into screaming bipedal fireballs and ran from their pizzerias, smoking like overdone calzone. It was probably quite beautiful to watch with a soundtrack. One last number from the band before the whole affair goes tits-up, as it were. Poignant. Touching. A little Apocalypse a cappella with a hint of Holocaust hoodoo. They say the band played on whilst Titanic went down and I say Bravissimo! Wouldn’t you?

Which begs the question: What does one drink whilst watching the world burn?

A visit to an old family friend in Southern California brought this conundrum to the fore as we stood out on his magnificently appointed balcony and watched most of the “SoCal” region light up like the devil’s christmas tree. People were openly sobbing and wailing as they made their way through the smoky haze, emergency vehicles drove in and out with lights flailing and sirens blaring and all the while we were thinking: What would take the edge of all the brimstone and this terrible, terrible wailing?

I struggled for some time to come up with something suitable until a public service announcement came over the radio, urging the fleeing mob to lock their houses before running into the streets for the a cappella wailing scene. It seems that with the very fires of hell on their doorsteps most Californian homeowners had thrown caution to the wind and written off the mortgage and its contents. With this in mind other Californians had taken the opportunity to avail themselves to most of these readily available “finders keepers” goodies. Although, in the current US economic climate, who can really blame them? I goes without saying that this pitiful picture needed a drink. The drink of despair, the hemlock of Sodom and Gomorra, a real Black Wednesday bracer. Any number of things raced to mind: A blue blazer? A Diabolo? A Flames Over New Jersey which, if properly made, can serve 25? No. The drink from this kind of despair is simple, easy to prepare on your way out of the house (before locking up) and not just a little ironic. It also needs to be a long drink in case the flames get too close. It should be bright so that the emergency service people can see it through the falling mansion ash and, finally, it should be quite sweet, as the acrid smell of all those burning houses really gets up the nose.

The Long, Sloe Comfortable Screw.

On your way through the flaming house, find a long glass. A vase will do in a pinch. Add to a good quantity of ice one healthy shot of each of the following: Vodka, Sloe Gin, Southern Comfort, Galliano. At this point I would caution you not to do this too close to anything that is actually on fire. Should you find your bar to be in flames, take a moment to thoroughly wet a large blanket which can be draped over the counter. This should allow you to continue undisturbed for a while. Finally, top your evacuation vase up with freshly squeezed orange juice and take regular gulps on your way towards the medical vehicles, one must stay hydrated in these sorts of situations. Should time prove not to be a major factor, you might also enjoy mixing the ingredients together in a cocktail shaker before applying them to the glass or vase. I find this has the added benefit of cooling the whole thing down rather nicely. By way of a garnish a small slice of lime and an umbrella to keep out the ashes is a very practical step to take.

This is a drink which can be both gulped in a hurry or enjoyed with a view, as I and my host did from the smoky banks of what used to be some of the most coveted real estate in the world.