There's no real art to that, though. [Says he, at least.
Shrugging.] If you like it, you drink it. [Taking a glass and mixing her that blood orange martini that he learned to make somewhere, which is not the point. It does bring a slight smile to his face when he mixes it, though it fades as he hands it over to her.
It's really not funny, but then it is.] I hope you like it.