I was actually trying to find a cocktail to go with my exotic chicken couscous last night, while watching the Tour de California on Versus, and then it dawned on me that I had all these blood oranges in the fridge and a desire for a little exotic cocktail - to go with my exotic chicken couscous.

While I do like the art of “pairing” food and drinks, I am not a strict Robert Parker “red wine with red meat, or I’ll cut your willy off.” I drink what I like when I want it.

I am not into the art of accessorizing my meals either, nor my clothing - Tiger matches Tiger in MY closet.

I do love trying new things all the time and do love to use my super cool Breville Electric Citrus Press - I can juice 15 oranges in less time than it takes to open the child proof cardboard cartons the already sweetened condensed pulp comes in, and it is much, much better. Oh, you mean those things are not child-proof? That explains a lot in my life…

I am a true believer in trying anything to eat and drink, unless of course it borders on some kind of poisonous blow fish pancreas that sends you into a crocodile death roll in agony with your liver shrinking to the size of the lone Chicklet tooth in the mouth of Friday’s 270 million MegaMillions winner from Georgia. Did you see that thing dangling? Chick-let…

And what is about only poor, blue-collar, white trailer trash winning the lottery all the time? Just once, can’t someone with their own teeth, perhaps non-stained trousers, perhaps NOT holding a live chicken, that drives a freaking car that doesn’t look like it just took the 90 mile aquatic swim from Havana? Just once, can’t the lottery be fair and equal opportunistic in which a normal person stands on the platform, our eyes transfixed and we are spiritually transformed by the winner’s presence - their shiny white straight teeth, their clean hair, their pressed clothing, no barnyard buddies, and so articulate, that instead of holding a big cardboard check in the air and shouting, “woo-hoo, dang, dang having a hoo-ha”, they could be saying to us, “I’d like to thank the Nobel Peace Prize Academy…..” I don’t think I’m asking for much here…

But, I digress…

Whilst making the aforesaid chicken couscous - and boy, was it good - I took the freshly squeezed blood oranges and made the following recipe:

Blood Orange Martini

4 ounces vodka
1/2 ounce Cointreau (you can use triple sec or any flavored orange liqueur)
2 ounces blood orange juice
2 blood orange slices

In a martini shaker combine all ingredients except the orange slices with a generous amount of ice. Shake vigorously for a few seconds. Strain the libation from the ice into a martini glass. Garnish with the orange slices.

I really like this drink - and it went extremely well with the now infamous, chicken couscous. Watching the aforementioned, Tour de California.

We love cycling in this household. Not just because the Frasian (seen in the picture to the right) is a mad biker dude, but because it really is an incredible sport. I have willingly come to love and appreciate this sport so much. Sure, everyone starting following it when Greg LeMonde won and then when Lance Armstrong won 7 straight in the Tour de France, but we really get into it. We watch it every day when there is a race, not just the Tour de France, but all of them around the world, including Paris-Nice coming up, Giro d’Italia, Tour of Belgium, etc., etc.

And with cycling growing in America, we have not only the Tour de California, but also the Tour de Georgia, among other races. And I was equally impressed on how many new American-led teams are out there, including the new ones like Slipstream-Chipotle, HighRoad, Toyota United, and many others, including the hottest team with the best uniforms, logo, colors and just about everything else - Rock Racing. They could win every race on coolness alone. They are the Jack Nicklaus of cycling. Just watch the video.

I know what you are saying - doping is also at an all-time high, and for that I cannot disagree. But, unlike the European system of testing, we are finding more and more team testing with these American teams and the result is, if you dope, you are out. I hope this does elevate racing back into a sport where everyone will be impressed with the hard stance against doping and drug use. Just like Major League Baseball is doing……

Cycling is just much, much different. Where else can the world’s skinniest guys, with the worst farmer’s tans I have ever seen, get all the hot European models? Man, these guys are like Gods in Europe.

Over here in America, if a guy is riding a bike, we think he is either delivering a package or he lost his license due to too many DUIs.

I don’t care if they wear those Alien-inspired time trial helmets, or that they wear those tight bike pants that make them look like they are smuggling plums - I love cycling and I love the men who cycle.

Go Levi! - www.letleviride.com

If you have a great martini recipe you would like to share, simply comment on this post or email us at feedback@atbar.com.

Until then Dear Reader, I bid you Adieu.