Ice

I've heard it said more than once that U.S. prisoners of war...upon being released...will have a first request that is so common as to be a cliche among those that administer their first moments: a drink with lots of ice cubes.

One man said that the very sound of them clinking in his glass was better than if they had tolled the Liberty Bell for his return.

I don't why this is such a Yanqui obsession but I have never been anywhere in the world (tourist resorts that cater to Americans, excepted) that assumes anyone in their right mind would have the bartender or soda jerk begin with filling your glass beyond the brim with ice. Truly, however, it is in our DNA.

My Porteña wife is of the "normal" persuasion that enjoys a cube or two...or sometimes likes to forego the thang that I absolutely require when weather turns warm. When we lived in Chicago she found it impossible to order a drink without ice. When she was successful...they brought ice on the side...just to make sure that there was no misunderstanding.