I ran out the back door and down the hill at full speed, jumping over the sandbox and straight for the cherry tree. Pulling ripe fruit off the lowest hanging branches before shoving them into my mouth and running toward the swings, I smiled. My sister and I played in our backyard for hours stopping only for snacks from the cherry tree. My mother, wide-mouthed basket in hand approached the cherry tree at a slower gait before selecting fruit for cherry crisp. The kitchen looked like a murder scene when she removed the pits, slicing each cherry in half before baking them with brown sugar, oatmeal and butter, so much butter. Continue reading
I spend a great deal of time thinking about food and memory. I sit and think about past meals, cocktails, glasses of wine. I think about where I was when I last had a lobster roll and who I was with and what the weather was like. I think about the first meal I ever ate with Chef Boyfriend and what music was playing and how he stood over that stupid glass stovetop sprinkling the ravioli with fresh sage.
I’m primarily a wine drinker. Red in the winter. Rosé in the spring. White in the summer. Sparkling all year ’round.
But there’s something about warm weather and patio sitting that screams “cocktail time”. After getting home from work and walking the dog, I’ve been making myself a cocktail and going out to the patio. Sipping a drink in the sunshine has become one of my favorite parts of the day and I look forward to trying out new cocktail recipes. So here we go: Rhubarb gin & tonics, Negroni Radlers, and cucumber margaritas. Continue reading