The Heatwave | A Whiskey Cocktail

You guys!
It’s Tuesday and it’s totally almost a long four day weekend! It’s almost Fourth of July, people. Or in grown-up world “America is cool, but it’s even cooler that I can BBQ these ribs in my underwear while enjoying the sweet freedom of a whiskey cocktail on a Thursday” Day. God Bless America.
Pete and I have been gearing up by trying to find the perfect summery cocktail combo. It’s hard work, but someone has to do it.  Let us do that heavy lifting for you. We’ve come up with something pretty great. Muddled raspberries mixed with lime, ginger beer and whiskey. Summery magic? Yes indeed.
We sat around sipping guzzling our creation trying to come up with a name. Since we were both sweating semi-profusely, draping our bodies carefully in juxtaposition to an AC vent,we decided to call it The Heatwave. It’s hot. I know, I’ve mentioned this. But, really. Complain, complain. We need cocktails. […]

Watermelon Margaritas

Last week.

Don’t even get me started.

I came here on Friday to write you a post about my various kitchen mishaps. The post got too long. That’s right. It was that kind of week. I found myself on Facebook complaining and insisting we all have margaritas. Yeah, I wasn’t kidding…

These drinks are what happens when you manage to make lemon bars taste like scary scrambled eggs, spend hours making gluten-free gnocchi that ends up turning into doggie treats, and make yourself a green smoothie that tastes like wet salad. Yes, I did these things. It got real. Oh, boy. I have some scores to settle with a couple of recipes. They will be mine. Mark my words. […]

Strawberry, Honey & Lime Spritzer

Sometimes, I can be a little dramatic. I’m not proud of this. It just happens.

My Italian side decides to flip a switch, and the drama starts coming out of my pores. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Let me give you an example:

Yesterday I woke up in one of those moods where everything – and I really mean everything – made me feel like I was going to lose my mind. I woke up, rolled out of bed, and seemed to be on a certain path of  emotional self-destruction. We’re not talking about big and terrible events that sent me into dramatic upheaval, but instead, basic things.

I made myself eggs. I wanted to put salsa on my eggs. I love salsa on my eggs. I opened the fridge. I couldn’t find the salsa. I almost cried…over salsa. This is never a good sign. Big, glaring red flag. […]

The Whiskey Sour | How To Combat Awkward

Hey, Friends! Let me introduce you to the peanut butter to my jelly, the spaghetti to my meatball, the polar bear to my top hat! This is Peter. He is my husband. He usually sits idly by eating my recipes and humoring me by laughing at my jokes. Today he wants to talk to you about booze. Take it away, Pete…

I didn’t grow up drinking hard alcohol. To be clear, I also didn’t grow up (from childhood) drinking. I’d probably be surlier and have more scars. When I started drinking, it was generally beer that went down my gullet, probably due to the Dutch blood pumping through my veins.

It wasn’t until I met my wife’s parents for the first time that I really acquired a taste for something more refined. Sure I’d downed some watered-down vodka tonics and dabbled with gin in college. I even insulted an old, Danish family-friend by suggesting his 30-year old Scotch tasted like rum (I was all of seventeen at the time). In essence, my alcoholic reference shelf was stocked with beer until my mid-twenties.

Gina first introduced me to her parents far before any standard of social norm or traditional scheduling. We’re talking about three to four weeks after our first date. And this wasn’t a matter of “hey, my parents are in town would you like to come to dinner?” Rather, this was “hey, I’m 400 miles from home and I’m sitting awkwardly across from your imposing, Italian father in their beautiful home.” […]