The saga of Colonel Green is a multi-generational one spanning 2 continents, at least, an even more cocktails.

Read the stories below of Colonel Green and the many cocktails he, and those he loved, have inspired. Somehow, each cocktail we celebrate finds its roots to the exciting life of the Colonel and his progeny.

...and the saga continues...

Colonel Green's diary was discovered shortly after our last installment of his unauthorized biography in the invitation for Pretty in Pink: Cosmopolitans in a City Garden. It surfaced from the depths of the Castle Green, in a room mysteriously sealed so long ago that it did not even appear on the Castle’s blueprints.

In this “find of the century,” the Colonel chronicles his many exploits on the high seas, and gives us insight into his life and state of mind away from his sea-faring adventures.

We stumbled upon the following entry as we poured over the fragile, aged pages and found it to be most in the spirit of this evening’s fête…

“…I just woke up from a most auspicious dream. It began with me observing Adam and Eve in paradise. Adam was trying repeatedly to seduce the innocent Eve, on whom I had designs myself… Just as I approached her loveliness, Adam arrived with a cup made of leaves, filled with a sparkling, cool liquid. Eve reached over to take a whiff of the concoction and was immediately drawn toward it…and Adam. Upon closer inspection she saw that a magical green apple slice was floating in the liquid. Apple trees were different in those days. The apples hung forbiddingly high on the trees, hence their name the forbidden fruit. But, somehow Adam had retrieved one – so great was his love for Eve. Mesmerized, she gently took the container in her hands and sipped the elixir. She was transformed, and so was their relationship. I felt as if I had witnessed history when I awoke. I ran to the kitchen to recreate the magical potion and thus created what will certainly be a most famous drink one day – the Green Apple Martini, born in the pursuit of truth and passion.”

We now know the origin of the delicious mixture created from the nectar of an apple that gives body and flavor to the clear liquid that refreshes and lifts the spirit. Join us for Midnight in the Garden of Eden: Apple Martinis at the Castle Green and celebrate the forbidden, the passionate, the good, and all that is delightful. Toast Colonel Green himself, who, once again, has proven to be the source of a wickedly delicious concoction.

The ghost of Colonel Green will certainly be present at this evening of art, drink, food, and frolic.

To read about Colonel Green in his earlier years, from “Shaken Not Stirred”, “Rocks No Salt” and "Pretty in Pink", see below.

The mysterious disappearance of Colonel Martin Green has puzzled locals for many decades. Until this past year, the charismatic community leader’s extravagances were simply scuttlebutt, but recent renovations at Castle Green have unearthed a treasure trove of telling evidence about the dynamic Colonel Green’s activities.

A national hero whose conquests supposedly included rescuing Teddy Roosevelt from certain death on San Juan Hill, Green returned to his family homestead in the hills of Altadena after the Spanish-American War. The sedate lifestyle of cattle herding and dairy farming hardly appealed to the capricious Colonel Green, though, which left him carousing and exploring the seedier sides of life.

Contrary to local folklore, an IOU found during the renovations indicates that Pasadena’s monument of luxury and leisure, Castle Green, was actually named after the mercurial Colonel Green when he won the property in a bet. Green was always his favorite color, he would tell, but even more so after they began printing paper money in that hue. After acquiring the property in the mid-20s, Colonel Green set about remaking Castle Green “in his own image” as he would tell anyone who listened.

It is said that Pasadena’s first speakeasy was located in the Castle Green basement. There, amidst the merriment of all things of ill repute, the more adventurous citizens spent many a night tasting the sweet nectars of life in various forms. It has been mentioned that Colonel Green sold a certain East Coast Irish family his recipe for bathtub gin and his eponymous drink, the Martini – therein launching a significant political and financial dynasty. Legend has it that the police force would forgive Colonel Green his transgressions in exchange for complementary Martinis to the officers every night.

Just as quickly as Colonel Green emerged upon Pasadena, he lost Castle Green back to the original owners – forever concluding a raucous and racy era in Pasadena’s history. Just as soon thereafter, Colonel Green was heard telling tale of traveling to the Far East, and was never heard from again. Many assumed his nefarious nighttime activities had caught up with him and suggested that his body might still, to this day, be found on – or under – the grounds of Castle Green.

While Colonel Green never returned to reclaim his legacy, his famous love of Martinis started a Pasadena tradition that has been continued until today. Like the pyramids of yesteryear, the Castle Green renovations yielded a feast of old Pasadena memoirs, but perhaps, most importantly, Colonel Green’s original Martini recipe was found buried at the bottom of a chest of drawers. Shaken Not Stirred, AIDS Service Center's first cocktail party, paid tribute to Colonel Green by featuring his famed Martini.

The saga continues . . .
From Rocks No Salt

and the mystery has been solved. For decades, Pasadena denizens have been puzzled by the mysterious disappearance of Colonel Green. In spite of his speakeasy antics, he had always been the beloved treasure of a community seeking charisma and charm over morality and ethics.

His sudden departure from Pasadena occurred at night — the day before the police arrived to, albeit reluctantly, close his house of carnal and lascivious pleasures. While his legend remained intact, many believed that Colonel Green ended his life in obscurity, and that he had been buried on the grounds of Castle Green in a secret ceremony. It took Jessie Nolan, an enterprising historical researcher, to prove the myth wrong. We should have known that a character who lived life as boisterously as did Colonel Green could not go silently into the twilight.

Recently, while unearthing Castle Green’s past, Jessie found an envelope containing a brilliant diamond ring among Colonel Green’s belongings — long ago locked away in a trunk hidden in the Castle Green basement. The return address on the envelope was Yptanca, Mexico, and the postmark, although faded, showed 1940. The industrious Jessie Nolan immediately booked the next flight to Mexico City, and, after a six-hour bus-ride over winding dirt roads, found herself in the mountainous Yptancan outpost.

Once there she learned that Colonel Green’s maid, Margarita, had also been his wife. She had been forced to return home when all the men in her town were enlisted in the war effort, leaving the area’s goat herding industry without a leader, and in her hands. Knowing their separation would be much too traumatic; Margarita left without saying goodbye to the Colonel. Once she reached her home, she found that her diamond wedding ring was too painful a reminder; she returned it to him just days after her arrival in Yptanca.

In the intervening months, Colonel Green had stoically mourned the loss of his beloved Margarita in silence, knowing that the news of their inter-ethnic marriage was a social boundary that not even he could cross. His only relief from the deep grief was his creation of a tropical drink of sweet-and-sour agave, lime and salt — reminiscent of delightful moments that Margarita had brought to him and his bitterness over her disappearance. The “Margarita,” as we all know it now, has become one of the most popular concoctions in both Mexico and the States.

As Yptancans told Jessie Nolan, Colonel Green left Pasadena as soon as he received Margarita’s ring in the mail. Local legend has it that it took him six months — in the days before commercial air travel — to find Yptanca. His arrival left Margarita speechless for weeks. The locals told Jessie that the couple lived a long and happy life together, and as in love as the day they met. They passed away one day apart as neither could stand the separation from the other again. Colonel Green never returned to Pasadena.

The Colonel became a local Yptancan celebrity, turning the village’s goat herding industry into one of the country’s most lucrative and productive centers of goat-cheese making. In the years that followed his arrival, he brought electricity, water and gas to the village (deals usually being made during poker games). In the course of his remaining twenty years, Colonel Green became known as Papa Verde. Legend — most likely created by Papa Verde himself — has it that he descended from Heaven’s Castillo Verde (Castle Green) to the grace and delight of the residents and the descendants of Yptanca.

Saludos to the Colonel and Margarita.

. . . and continues . . .
From Pretty in Pink

Six Degrees of Separation: There’s no drink that can’t find a link to Colonel Green.

To hear tell of it, the only thing Colonel Green ever regretted about following his beloved Margarita to Mexico was leaving his handsome son, Forest, behind. Legend speaks of an even deeper remorse, though - one which Colonel Green never spoke of until his last days. It’s reported that those select few who sat with him at his deathbed heard him mutter “Olive . . . my beloved”, over and over again, as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

Olive, Margarita revealed after Colonel Green’s death, was his long-lost daughter. The story is both a compelling and tragic one.

Colonel Green - who later went on to ride with Teddy Roosevelt and achieve unparalleled military feats - started his career as a sailor, as did many young men of his generation. A leader among men, Colonel Green soon found himself captaining his own supply frigate, (skills he later found of extraordinary use during Prohibition). During one particularly choppy journey carrying food supplies from the Caribbean to Nova Scotia, Colonel Green found his ship buffeted along the rocky New England Coast. After more than 16 hours of relentless rain, thirty-foot squalls, and wind whipped sails - he was shipwrecked on the shore of an unchartered island. Colonel Green lost his ship, The Cosmos, most of its crew, and encountered his first of many brushes with death.

Nursed to health by the local natives, Colonel Green quickly adopted them as his new family. The sweet young maiden, Tewwanee, who brought him back to health, also gave him the will to live. The Cosmos was a total loss and the shipment of beverages, fruits and other supplies from the more tropical climes had been strewn across the beach: crates of bourbon crushed under wreckage, barrels of vodka tossed into a nearby cranberry bog, in a melee of limes, lemons and other citrus. It was the latter mixture that was found to be - once the tribesmen and Colonel Green tasted it - an euphoric blend of tropical and colder climate flavors with a hefty kick. Since a majority of the vodka barrels miraculously survived much damage, islanders planted their own citrus grove from the discarded fruit, and christened the tribe’s chosen drink, Cosmos’ Pink Punch: in honor of the shipwreck that landed the Colonel and the ingredients on the island.

The island was the typical Northern New England setting - covered by a forest, butted by rocky crags and stony cliffs; cold, snowy and blustery during the winter. It goes with out saying that Cosmos’ Pink Punch not only served as an epicurean delight for the tribe, but also as warmth for the heart and soul during the cold, dreary, typical New England winter. The drink brought its heartbreak too.

Soon after Colonel Green’s recovery, Tewwannee and he began a passionate love affair, resulting in the birth of his daughter, Olive (named for her luxurious, tanned skin). Tewwannee was tragically killed when she was sucked into a pit of quicksand. Only her necklace and a pink-stained wooden punch cup were found floating on the still-gurgling mass of muck. Shortly thereafter, crews finally appeared on the island to rescue Green. Inconsolable and bereft of resources, Colonel Green left Olive with her tribal family - promising to return for her once he was settled. After he moved to New York, Colonel Green made several crossings but was never again able to locate his rocky island paradise or his beloved daughter.

As Forest shared the story years later, Olive finally thought she located her long-lost father - sadly, only to discover he had moved to Mexico and subsequently died. As Olive grew into adolescence, she told Forest, her tribe moved to the continent. Olive matured into a vivacious woman, opening a Greenwich Village jazz club, Pink House. Even as a sultry New York denizen, she was never able to forget her father or the spicy, “kick-in-the-ass” concoction he originated. Created from memory, Cosmos’ Pink Punch quickly became a favorite among her customers. Because Cosmos’ Pink Punch is so much more difficult to say after five or six of them, she renamed it the Cosmopolitan, in part, to reflect the smooth sophistication of Pink House and its clientele.

Pretty In Pink: Cosmopolitans in a City Garden, honors the spirit of adventure and commitment so tightly embraced by the Cosmopolitan, exemplified by the unforgotten love between a father and daughter, and recreating the elegant urban atmosphere of Olive Green’s Pink House.