The white russian is simple: vodka, and kahlua, and cream in a highball, right?

There is some debate as to the appropriate portions of vodka, kahlua, and cream. It varies from 4:2:1 on the strong side, to the moderate 1:1:1, to the down right wussy 2:2:7. Being the big drinker that I am, my personal recipe calls for about 1:1:10 (which ranks on the scale of hard-hitting drinks right next to yoo-hoo).

There are numerous websites describing the recipe, but none of them agree as to what the recipe should be. Cream or milk? highball or tumbler? balieys or no? This guy even has the audacity to suggest that a proper white russian includes cola!

I'd show you a picture of what one should look like but no such picture seems to exist. The best I could come up with is this micrograph of a white russian, courtesy of the drunkards at FSU.

About the only helpful information about the white russian I could find concerned caserole, bears, pie, and hampsters. So it looks like I'm on my own here. Without further ado, here is the official Mouser version of the recipe for a White Russian (not to be confused with a Chocolate Mouser):

The first thing you need for a proper white russian is the right glass. Most people think a white russian should be served in a highball. I find the highball to be too low-volume and all-together prissy-looking. The other popular choice is the tumbler, which should really be called "the glass that can be filled with 95% ice by volume." The tumbler is a joke played on us by bartenders and the people who manufacture ice.

No. To enjoy a white russian in the authentic Mouser Way™, you need to replicate the Mouser drinking experience. If you're me and I'm drinking, then you're almost certainly at a party because I'm too cheap to buy my own liquor, which means you've either stolen one of the big red plastic cups from the keg or some random glass from a cupboard somewhere. That's rule #1: If it's not in a big red plastic beer cup, then it should be in a glass chosen randomly from the nearest cupboard.

Next, and this is very important, is the alchemy stage. This is where you transmute three things that I would never drink into the world's finest beverage. The vodka comes first! This is because the kahlua is very easy to spot on the liquor table and the location of milk is obvious, so the last thing you'll find yourself looking for before you begin constructing your drink is the vodka. So as you assemble the various containers into a small collection in front of you, the vodka is inevitably the last thing in your hand. No point in putting it down; just pour.

While we're on the subject, let's talk about what constitutes vodka, and what similar drinks actually fall under the category of "crap." Finlandia is clearly the top of the top shelf, mostly because I liked Finland a lot and plus the Finlandia people make these really great vodka-filled chocolate candies that you can only buy at the Helsinki airport. Man those are good. Moving on. Absolut is also good, because they have such catchy advertising. Generally, anything from Scandinavia is acceptable (is there a Norwegian vodka?). Sky will do because it comes in that wacky blue bottle. Stoli's is good because people tell me its good. Everything else: "crap." Not more than one metric teaspoon or I'll get drunk. It is rumored that trace elements of vodka do actually end up in my white russians, but the concentration generally falls below the detection threshold of modern instruments.

Next: Kahlua. First, a breif spelling lesson. It's not kaluha.
The amount of kahlua in the glass should be enough to turn the vodka brown and no more. Kalhlua in large quantities tastes like someone spilt their coffee in your yoo-hoo and then used it to marinade a goat. Keep it sparse, it's the beverage equivalent of a garnish.

To wrap up the alchemy phase of your drink, you need cream milk. You'd really prefer cream, but no one ever has cream in their fridge, do they? If you're at someone's house who lives with their parents, there might be some half-n-half in there somewhere but chances are its really really old and besides, who wants to drink with people that live with their parents? So reach for the milk. The bastards probably don't even have whole milk because they're all worried about their fat asses (notice: that's them, over there by the keg, with the super big gulp of carb-rich beer in their hand. If you listen closely, you can actually hear their asses expanding as the beer sacks inflate). Anyway, fill it up. Fill it way up to remove all traces of potency.

The last step is the stir. You've got several options here. If you want to be really classy, you can spend the time to find a fork and take care of your business. But for the more liberal connoisseur, just stick your index finger in there and wiggle it around a little.

Hey you're done! You hold in your hand the finest drink ever conceived, or at least a reasonable facsimile - and it's done the Mouser Way™.