I also went to a rather surreal party put on by Betty Crocker because I grew up with that cookbook, my mom’s copy from 1956, and I just could not connect it to cocktails. And the one I tried, with sparkling wine, cranberry juice and I think curacao, was not bad. But I needed a glass of wine for the cooking demo, which actually featured mixes. For all the revolutions in cooking, we’re going seriously backward if people need to be shown how to tear open a bag and stir in eggs.