The tailgate drops. The cooler opens. Someone hands you a red cup that is already sweating. The game has not started yet, and the day is already perfect.

There are cocktails you study. There are cocktails you practice. And then there is moonshine and cola -- the drink you make without thinking, the one that requires no bar cart, no jigger, no muddler, and no recipe card. Just a bottle, a can, and some ice. That is it. That is the whole thing.

But here is the thing about simple drinks: they expose everything. Bad moonshine tastes bad in cola. Good moonshine tastes great. The cola's sweetness and carbonation open up the corn-forward character of the spirit, while the lime wedge cuts through and keeps it from getting heavy. It is a drink that works at a parking lot before a Griz game, on a boat in August, or standing around a bonfire in November.

No one will ever write a magazine feature about moonshine and cola. That is exactly why it is great.