Hope & Sif
It was true, their Midgardian alcohol paled in comparison. Hope would know firsthand, though she hadn't much basis for comparison - mostly because to drink too much alcohol from Sif's homeland meant she'd be curdling her liver in short order. "Thor shared Asgardian ale awhile ago," she grinned, fondly recalling that night. "When we had a dinner party." Jane had been there too, and Scott - but well, anyway. Best to not get caught up in that.
"So yeah, you speak the truth. But let's see - " What could she recommend for a goddess? Mead x 1,000? Nothing idiotic like 'buttery nipples' or 'cum shot,' that was just utterly tasteless. "How about a little Death in the Afternoon?" she suggested. "Ernest Hemingway invented the drink. It's what people drank in the golden ages. Champagne and absinthe."
The absinthe may render Hope unconscious, but Sif could handle it. No doubt.