02 The story
It started at the steelworks.
A drink for the end of a shift, when the crews coming off the floor wanted something cold and sharp. It had no bottle and no label. Just an order, passed from one bar to the next, until it had worked its way into the most exclusive clubs in the country.
Somewhere along the way it became one of South Africa's great inventions. Nobody owns it. Everybody knows how to order it.
Kola tonic, ginger beer, lime and a few dashes of bitters. For years that was a Steelworks, and you only got a good one if the person behind the bar knew how to build it.
Some nights it was right. Dry, sharp, cold enough to hurt. Other nights it came back sweet, or flat, or short on bitters because the bottle had gone walkabout. Same order. Different drink every time.
We kept ordering it anyway. At the club, at lunches that ran into the evening, at the braai when someone asked what we were having.
So we took it apart. Took the sugar down. Kept the bitters where they belong. Then we put it in a tin, so the one you open is the one we meant.
Same four things. Built once, and built right.
