So. By this point, you may have noticed that I don’t often post about recipes gone wrong. I don’t tell you about the drinks I make that are on the “meh” side of boring, the ones that are mixed improperly or those that are just plain old bad. This information isn’t shared primarily because I’m here to share recipes along with my experiences, and most of you, I hope, don’t want to replicate a recipe that unfolds like a train wreck.

Today, I am making an exception. It’s not often that I pour something out of the shaker that is so bad it makes my breath catch, so I feel it’s only fair to post this as a warning to all of you. I found the Far East while trolling through Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide, Revised, looking for something pleasant and easy to make before dinner. This seemed like a pleasant, easy sort of drink—one of those that you feel justified taking a stab at, because you think you already know what the sum of the disparate parts will taste like. This time, I was wrong. Utterly, shudderingly wrong.

1½ oz dark Jamaican rum
1 teaspoon curaçao
1 dash Angostura bitters
3 dashes grenadine

Shake all ingredients well over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry.

Rum, curaçao, a little bit of grenadine for sweetness—what could go wrong here? Rum and orange mix well and three dashes of grenadine can’t do much beyond add some sweetness and a tinge of color, but upon tasting this my eyes watered. Imagine, if you will, a drink that has both the burn of alcohol and the flat, stale taste of cardboard. Something that smells lightly fruity but coats your mouth like so much satin-finish paint. Those sensations can just about approximate the horror that is this drink.

And yes, I did check my bottles. Nothing has gone off, so I can only speculate that whoever invented this had an exceptionally severe head cold or a complete lack of tastebuds. Either way, I’m tempted to pull this page out of the book and commit it to the watery grave it so deserves.