My Pittsburgh City Paper co-workers have made their drink preferences pretty clear. Staff writer Rachel Wilkinson wants that trash, that sweet, that sugary combination of artificially flavored vodkas, unnaturally bright colors, and candy accouterments. News editor Colin Williams gets what he wants by homebrewing his craft beer and enjoys exploring what local breweries have to offer.
But what about Mandy Waltz? As someone who grew up in a dry household — a product of my cowboy father’s general sobriety after years of drinking his way across Texas — my views on alcohol would be best described as indifferent. When I turned 21, I decided Bloody Marys would be my signature drink, the genius reason being that I like tomatoes. This lasted exactly one Bloody Mary, ordered during my grandmother’s birthday dinner.
When I became a club rat, I sampled a long list of shots, cocktails, and beers trying to find what would best allow me to dance all night without flop-sweating through my going-out top. First, it was Jägerbombs, followed by cranberry vodkas, high-ABV Golden Monkey beer, Straub, and the grapefruity goodness of Greyhounds, which left me with an eye infection after I passed out in my cheap, probably expired drugstore makeup.
Finally, I found the perfect formula. My night usually begins with an I.C. Light and a shot of well vodka, and from there, I stick with bottles or cans of I.C. Light only. If the vibes peak, I may have a second shot, but no more.
The I.C. Light/bottom-shelf vodka combo offers numerous perks, the top two being it’s relatively inexpensive and never leaves me with a hangover. Despite the sideways looks I get from craft beer fans and liquor snobs when declaring my loyalty to what I’ve dubbed “The Amanda,” almost 20 years of drinking it with few to no bad outcomes can’t be wrong.
When telling a partner about The Amanda, he brought something up that I had never heard before — if you go to a bar in any American city and order “the special,” you receive an off-menu item that best reflects the region’s character, usually a locally made beer or spirit. To be fair, I found no evidence to back up this claim, but for the sake of this piece, I’m willing to believe Chicago bars are slinging Malört to open-minded travelers, and visitors to Baltimore are getting their first taste of Natty Boh.
Given that Pittsburgh Brewing Company, the company behind I.C. Light, was founded and has operated out of southwestern Pennsylvania since 1861, there is no better beer to represent the region. Pairing it with a liquor best described as “practical” harkens back to the city’s blue-collar days of communal, post-work drinking, before $15 cocktails and taprooms crowded with high ABV-loving haze boys became the norm. Even better, once the warm weather hits, you have the option of subbing in a refreshing I.C. Light Mango.
So please, when considering how to best promote Pittsburgh through alcohol, consider getting tourists somewhat buzzed on a low-carb, low-calorie lager and vodka stored in a plastic jug. Calling it The Amanda is optional.
This article appears in Oct 2-8, 2024.
