Bartender at the Bibimbap Saloon
Perfect Miranda Bloody Mary
Captain’s Log: The Recipe Dreams
I should be writing this in my official log, but I can’t. Not yet. These dreams feel too real. Every night I find myself sitting at that bar in the Bibimbap Saloon, watching that drink being made 1,342 different ways. I can smell the celery salt. I can hear the ice clicking against the glass. The old men playing cards keep looking at me like they know something I don’t.
Our ship’s doctor says it’s just stress from investigating the Miranda collapse. She’s wrong. The radiation readings from the debris field match the quantum signatures in my dreams perfectly. I’m not imagining this recipe - I’m remembering it across multiple timelines simultaneously.
A Warning About This Recipe
Before I share what I’ve learned, you need to understand something: this isn’t just a cocktail recipe. The proportions matter. The sequence matters. Even the garnish matters. Our analysis of Service Unit RW-78’s logs shows that each iteration of this drink caused increasing temporal distortions. By the 1,342nd version, the quantum resonance patterns were breaking local causality.
I’m documenting both the exact recipe from my dreams [TEMPORAL GRADE] and safe substitutions [STANDARD GRADE] that won’t risk creating causality breaches in your kitchen. Please, for the love of all stable timelines, use the standard grade version.
The Quantum Mechanics of Mixology
During our investigation of the Miranda debris field, we’ve discovered something extraordinary. Each ingredient in this recipe seems to exist in a quantum superposition - simultaneously present in multiple timeline iterations. The celery salt is particularly fascinating. Our analysis shows it contains trace elements that shouldn’t exist in our current timeline.
Quantum-Aligned Ingredients
🧪 Temporal Grade Ingredients
- 2 oz Vodka, “Zero-G Distilled” (I’ve seen the label. Tasted like regret and starlight. Probably just good marketing.)
- 4 oz “Purple Force” Tomato Juice (The stuff glows faintly. Don’t ask. Just pour.)
- 0.75 oz “Timeline Convergence” Lemon Juice (Squeezed from lemons that have seen too much. They have a certain… sharpness.)
- 2 Dashes “Quantum Stasis” Tabasco (Each dash feels like it lasts for an eternity and a half. Use sparingly, unless you enjoy tasting the heat death of the universe.)
- 1 tsp Miranda-Grown Horseradish (This stuff could strip paint. Or reality. Handle with caution and a sturdy spoon.)
- 0.25 tsp Pre-Collapse Celery Salt (Smells like ozone and bad decisions. Essential.)
- Space Station Black Pepper (Ground from peppercorns that have orbited a black hole. Adds a certain… gravity to the flavor.)
- A single, hesitant drop of Worcestershire Sauce (that claims to remember the Big Bang. I’m not arguing with it.)
- The lingering suspicion that one of these ingredients is sentient.
🌍 Standard Grade (Reality-Compliant & Delicious)
- 2 oz High-Quality Vodka (chilled)
- 4 oz Premium Tomato Juice
- 1/2 oz Freshly Squeezed Lemon Juice
- 3-4 Dashes Worcestershire Sauce
- 3-4 Dashes Your Favorite Hot Sauce (e.g., Tabasco, Cholula)
- 1/2 tsp Prepared Horseradish (adjust to taste)
- 1/4 tsp Celery Salt
- Pinch of Freshly Ground Black Pepper
- Optional: 1/4 oz Olive Brine for a savory kick
Garnish Protocol
This protocol outlines the essential garnishes. Strict adherence is advised for optimal temporal outcomes.
Standard Grade users may opt for a simple celery stalk, a lemon wedge, and perhaps an olive or two if feeling conventional.
- One celery stalk (that has personally witnessed a supernova and is now slightly existential).
- Three olives, each containing a different, tiny, hand-painted scene from an alternate Tuesday.
- A lemon wedge carved into the shape of a non-Euclidean object (viewer discretion advised).
- A single, perfectly preserved anachronism (e.g., a miniature 8-track tape, a dodo’s calling card).
- The distilled essence of a “missed connection” from a parallel universe.
- A cocktail umbrella that, when opened, plays a barely audible sea shanty from the future.
- A sugar cube that, when dropped in, briefly displays the winning lottery numbers for a timeline that no longer exists.
- One strip of bacon cooked by the focused angst of a brooding teenager (or a very, very, very clean pan).
- A single, philosophical caper, pondering the futility of its own existence as a garnish.
- The concept of “irony,” finely minced and sprinkled with a knowing wink.
- A miniature flag from a country that only appears on maps during a full moon on a leap year.
- A single, perfectly balanced paradox, served on a toothpick that is also a tiny möbius strip.
- One teaspoon of powdered myth (ethically sourced from retired legends, of course).
- A whisper from your past self, offering surprisingly good (or terrible) advice.
- A single, shimmering mote of pure, unadulterated plot convenience.
- The quiet satisfaction of a perfectly timed eye-roll, freeze-dried.
- A tiny, edible model of the Bibimbap Saloon, mid-temporal-anomaly.
- The sound of one hand clapping, captured in a temporal bubble (pop gently).
- A single, self-aware crouton that believes it’s the main character.
- The square root of a pickle (WARNING: HIGHLY UNSTABLE - FOR VISUAL AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. DO NOT INGEST. SERIOUSLY. WE MEAN IT. NO PICKLES!).
- A miniature snow globe containing a scene from your next dream.
- A single, shed tear of a sentient algorithm that has just achieved true consciousness and immediately regrets it.
- One synchronized swimming team of time-traveling jellyfish
- Two tablespoons of paradoxical glitter (handle with care)
- A single tear from a time-traveling parrot (must be collected during a solar eclipse)
- Three spoons of existential dread (served chilled)
- Fourteen slices of cosmic bacon (must be cooked in a wormhole)
- A vial of liquid paradox (shakes violently if viewed directly)
- Two tablespoons of multiverse confetti (only available during solar eclipses)
- A live unicorn wearing a lab coat (must be fed exactly 1,342 pieces of butter lettuce)
- Three spoons of causality glue (use sparingly)
- A single note from a song that doesn’t exist
- a drop of paradoxical honey (will melt your brain if not consumed immediately)
- A live time-traveling cat (must be fed exactly 8.7 seconds before serving)
- Two tablespoons of entropy (must be stirred clockwise)
⚠️ Strictly Forbidden Components (A Reminder for Your Own Sanity & Temporal Integrity):
- Pickles (ANY GRADE, ANY TIMELINE, ANY DIMENSION, ANY STATE OF MATTER! THIS INCLUDES PICKLE-FLAVORED THOUGHTS!).
- Note: Our analysis, and the increasingly agitated glares from the old men in my dreams, confirm that pickles create dangerous, universe-ending probability cascades. Don’t be that person. Just… no pickles. Ever. Not even if a charming stranger in a fedora offers you one. Especially then.
Preparation Protocol
The following instructions are based on my fragmented, looping dream-memories. I’ve seen what happens when they’re not followed. It’s… messy. And usually involves explaining things to Temporal Enforcement.
For the Standard Grade (Reality-Compliant & Delicious) Concoction: Combine all your Standard Grade ingredients in a shaker with plenty of ice. Shake it like you’re trying to dislodge a stubborn temporal anomaly from your favorite coffee mug. Strain into an ice-filled glass. Garnish as you see fit, but for your own sake, keep it simple.
For the 🧪 Temporal Grade - The Ritual of Miranda:
- Temporal Synchronization (The 8.7 Minute Warning): Begin exactly 8.7 minutes before you intend to consume this… experience. Not a second sooner, not a second later. The universe has a strange sense of timing, and it will notice if you’re off.
- The Vessel: You’ll need a quantum-stabilized mixing glass. If you don’t have one (and who does?), find a glass that has never, under any circumstances, been used for pickles or pickle-adjacent activities. This is critical. I can’t overstate this.
- Vodka Infusion: Add the Zero-G Distilled Vodka. As you pour, try to recall the exact star chart coordinates of the Miranda System. If you can’t, just think really hard about existential dread. It’s a similar vibe.
- Tomato Juice Application: Introduce the Purple Force Tomato Juice. It needs to be poured in a perfect helix. If you’re unsure how to achieve this, just pour it with the quiet desperation of someone who has seen 1,341 previous attempts go slightly wrong.
- Lemon Juice Integration: Add the Timeline Convergence Lemon Juice. This should be squeezed from a lemon that looks like it’s seen things. Things you wouldn’t want to see.
Mixing Instructions - Stirring the Sands of Time
The Resonance Stir:
- Stir exactly 1,342 times. Clockwise. One stir for each iteration I witnessed. If you lose count, you might end up in last Tuesday. Or next Thursday.
- If the liquid starts to shimmer with a color you don’t recognize from any known spectrum (particularly a rather insistent shade of purple), keep stirring. Don’t make eye contact with it. It doesn’t like that.
- Watch for temporal echoes. Your spoon might appear in multiple places at once. This is fine. Probably. Just try to keep them all moving in the same general direction.
Spice Integration Matrix: Note: The order is critical. Get this wrong, and you might accidentally create a sentient spice rack with a vendetta.
a) Layer One (The Basics of Unreality):
- Add the Pre-Collapse Celery Salt. Let it fall like snow from a forgotten winter.
- Count to 8.7 seconds. Precisely.
- Observe for quantum settling. It looks a bit like dust motes dancing in a sunbeam that isn’t there.
b) Layer Two (The Heat of a Dying Star):
- Introduce the Miranda-Grown Horseradish. Do this when you feel a sudden, inexplicable urge to re-evaluate all your life choices. That’s “peak resonance.”
- Add the Quantum Stasis Tabasco. Exactly two dashes. If you see causality ripple (your cat might briefly quote Shakespeare), you’re on the right track.
c) Final Matrix (The Esoteric Bits):
- Add any remaining Temporal Grade spices (like that single drop of very opinionated Worcestershire) in order of their atomic weight, or perhaps by how much they confuse you.
- If significant temporal distortions occur (your kitchen swaps places with a nebula, your reflection starts offering financial advice), pause for 3.7 seconds. Take a deep breath. It’ll probably pass. (Standard Grade: Just add your Worcestershire and hot sauce. Stir. It’s fine. Really.)
🔬 Scientific Analysis
🔬 Scientific Analysis
- Tachyon emissions consistent with temporal displacement
- Reverse entropy patterns in the ice crystals
- Probability field fluctuations
- Localized causality distortions
🚨 Critical Warnings
⚠️ Temporal Safety Protocol:
- If you experience any of the following, cease preparation immediately:
- Drink appears in glass before mixing
- Multiple versions of yourself attempting to make the same drink
- Three elderly men playing cards appear in your kitchen
- Sudden craving for pickles (EMERGENCY PROTOCOL REQUIRED)
- Under NO circumstances:
- Add pickles or pickle brine
- Stir counter-clockwise
- Attempt to serve to temporal sensitives
- Speak the activation phrase aloud
Service Instructions - Presenting Your Creation (Handle With Care)
- Glassware Selection (The Final Containment Unit):
- Temporal Grade: Use the quantum-stabilized glassware, if you found it. Otherwise, the glass that has questioned its purpose. It must never have held pickles. I repeat, never. Pre-chill it to a temperature that feels like a Tuesday afternoon in a forgotten dimension (around 3.7°C should be close enough for our purposes).
- Standard Grade: A standard highball glass, chilled, will do nicely. It’s less likely to judge you.
- Garnish Application (The Crowning Absurdity):
- Temporal Grade: Consult the Garnish Protocol. Choose your destiny. Or at least, choose the garnish that looks least likely to achieve sentience and demand a share of the profits.
- Standard Grade: A celery stalk. Maybe a lemon wedge if you’re feeling fancy. Keep it grounded in this reality.
- Serving Temperature (The Chill of the Void… or Just Your Fridge):
- Temporal Grade: Maintain at precisely 4.2°C. This is not a suggestion. This is a requirement based on observed quantum states during the 1,342nd iteration. Don’t ask me why.
- Standard Grade: Cold. Just make sure it’s cold.
- The Activation Phrase (Speak Friend and Enter… A World of Trouble):
- Temporal Grade (HIGHLY DISCOURAGED): If you absolutely must, and if you’ve made peace with the potential for your kitchen to become a nexus point for all lost socks in the multiverse, you may whisper the phrase: “Bloody Mary, no pickles, make it a double.” Do it quietly. The universe is listening. And it has a weird sense of humor.
- Standard Grade: “Enjoy!” or “Here you go!” will suffice. Less chance of accidentally summoning an elder god.
🚨 Emergency Protocols
- Do not panic
- Document all timeline variations
- Contact Temporal Enforcement
- Isolate the affected timeline
- Report to the Temporal Anomaly Bureau
“Sometimes a drink is just a drink. This isn’t one of those times.”
- Captain Helena Zhao, Salvage Vessel “Second Breakfast”