LAST CALL: The Ghost Puncher, The Meanwhile Bar, East Hills

Ho, dear reader! Huddle close to this page terminus while I sit at The Meanwhile Bar, suckling at a treat of my own concoction: The Ghost Puncher.

The origin of this drink drives from a reference of irreverence against the famous non-alcoholic infusion, The Arnold Palmer.

The tee-totalitarian Arnold Palmer (or “Half & Half”) is, of course, the famous iced tea and lemonade mixture made famous by golfer Arnold Palmer. It’s a refreshing gulp, perfect for a sun-parching day on the greens. However, an age ago, I took offense at the bev’s lack of liquor. You shouldn’t have a drink named after you unless it has booze in it, unless you’re Shirley Temple.

A decade ago, a nice young lady told me about the Arnold Palmer and, upon realizing that her pause after the second ingredient was a period and not ellipsis, I took her by the hand and we rushed off to amend this oversight.

We hustled to the nearest coffeeshop and procured a bottle of lemonade and one of iced tea — they only had pomegranate. This will be important in the future. A brisk dip into an adjacent liquor store found us vodka.

The result was like a miracle. I felt the duty to spread word of the thing. Alas, few booze-slingeries held on the shelf the proper includes for the Ghost Puncher.

It was ages before I could find a bar to bear my bev. But I kept at it, defying the face of replacement of raspberry for pomegranate. My measures found fruit, though, so to speak. Once I posed the concoction to the barkeeps of The Meanwhile Bar, I was pleasantly surprised to find they had in stock sufficient supply of what it would comprise.

Thus was born the publicly available iteration of The Ghost Puncher — a bracing spray of pomegranate and spirit that smoothly possesses one’s palate. Be aware, though, it also poses a hell of a left hook.

I believe it was Charles Dickens who wrote, “An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself. If it’s had a few drinks, though, good damn luck getting it to shut up.”

And I think it was Indira Gandhi who wrote, “You cannot shake hands with a closed fist. I’d like some more of that punch, though.”

But then again, I have been drinking.


1. Choose your volume of drink and render half of such with a pomegranate vodka.

2. Elicit an equal amount of lemonade from its carry into your vessel of employ, allowing a small allot afore the rim.

3. Color the cocktail to your pleasure with a pomegranate liqueur, roaming it in languid, orbital fashions about the shallow yielding of the vessel’s brow.

4. Pour over ice. Don’t make any important plans for the rest of the night, dear reader.