A week later, when I went back to order another one (or nine), the bartender looked at me like I was nuts. Which cocktail? Never heard of it. He had to be kidding, I thought. This must be some kind of joke. The cocktail, I wanted to shout. The best one! But I didn't shout. I talked to a waiter, a hostess, a regular—and same result. No one could remember the thing. Cucumber and gin? Maybe lime? It was a mystery. And I was crushed.

Years have gone by and I’ve come to think of that mystery cocktail like that genius idea that dawns on and deserts you. You know it happened; it was amazing. And yet, what do you have to show for it? Was it all a mirage or projection or neurological lapse, I wonder. It’s hard to know.

So when my CSA box was all cucumber this past month, and I'd done so much pickling that my fingerprints were starting to vinegar-off, I decided to try to get that memory back. I tried a lot. I used cucumber water then cucumber vodka. I settled on gin. I used lemons but returned to limes. I tried Chambord and then decided against it. I switched things up with thyme and basil simple syrups but found that a whole lot of fresh mint did the trick best. And my garden thanked me. I went through a lot of blackberries. I got cankersores in my mouth from all the acid. I got drunk.

And I got really close to the original cocktail, I think—but at this point, my memory and my faith in it have faded. The good news: who cares. The Garden Kitchen Sink Gimlet, the name of my new drink, is a winner in its own right and has made me forget what I thought I remembered and move on. It's time.

Get the recipe for Garden Kitchen Sink Gimlet »