My favorite uncle when I was a little boy was Snowball, thus called because of his full head of snow white hair. He was very, very old. But he was among my (and my siblings) favorite of relatives.

He suffered from hemophilia and had lost several limbs as a result. One of his legs was plastic, and just below where the knee would have been, was a hole. He encouraged us to put our fingers in the hole as, so he said, this was his ticklish spot. We did as we were told, and he roared with laughter, as did we. We would see him at big family occasions (bar mitzvahs, weddings, funerals) where alcohol would always flow. Among the cocktails was the snowball. It was only until recently I discovered it was not named after him.

Here is how it was made for me when I was a kid. It tasted yummy.

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