Instead of teaching you how to find Jupiter, I’m about to reveal how to make a very special drink. Perhaps I’ve been reading too much Jerry Thomas ...
I’m endlessly fascinated not just by auroral beauty but also by how they ripple through culture as well as the sky. Here in Te Waipounamu, Kāi Tahu call the aurora Ngā Kahukura o Hine-nui-te-pō — the rainbow of the goddess of the night. In parts of the Far North, people once said the lights were spirits playing a great game of celestial football.
Some years ago, I gave a talk there about the aurora, and afterwards, a cheerful fellow — who turned out to be the former publican of the pub where I was speaking — came up to share a memory.
One night in the late 1980s, he said, the southern sky erupted in light so magnificent he closed the bar and ordered everyone outside to watch.
"Best decision I ever made," he told me.
Later, inspired by the heavens and perhaps by the bar’s dwindling stock, he invented The Legendary Naseby Aurora Cocktail.
Naturally, I asked for the recipe.
To make this visually impressive and dangerously potent beverage, raid your drinks cabinet for peach schnapps, Advocaat, milk, ice, cherry brandy and creme de menthe. Remember, our inventive publican measures in nips — that’s two fluid ounces, or about 59ml for the metrically minded.
In a tall, narrow glass, pour:
• 2 nips peach schnapps (for flavour)
• 2 nips Advocaat (for the yellow bands seen in the display)
Stir in 2 nips of milk and top with ice.
Now the delicate bit: gently pour a nip of cherry brandy down one side of the glass — that’s the red auroral glow. Then, with equal care, pour a nip of creme de menthe down the other side — the green oxygen light of the upper atmosphere.
If you’ve done it right, the drink shimmers like a miniature aurora in a glass.
I’ve tried it. It tastes like a boozy fruit sundae, and after one or two, you’re unlikely to remember much about the sky at all.
As Oscar Wilde once advised: "Everything in moderation, including moderation".
