A Good Cry

I cried today.  This is not a unique occurrence, but it’s one worth mentioning.  I cried for the loss of a parent twenty years ago.  I cried for heartache.  I cried for my dad’s upcoming surgery and the quiet trepidation I heard in his voice over the phone earlier tonight.  I didn’t need any of these reasons, but they helped me release what I needed to.  

Lo and behold, I felt a billion times better.

Also, I can’t wait for a summer sky.

If I feel like a good cry, I’ll watch something like this.

When I need a good laugh, I’ll either dance in front of a mirror, or read a page of Sh*t my Dad Says, or watch an episode of 30 Rock.  It’s good to know there are guarantees like this, isn’t it? 

The Perfect Tea

What the hell?  I blinked and December happened.  Since last time, I’ve been feeling rather junky that I promised to post the recipe for this weeks ago but didn’t.  The holidays came and went, we said goodbye to 2010, toasted to a new year, a fresh start, and I still hadn’t mustered the discipline to sit down and write.  Yet.

I do want to change that.  Really.  For one thing, there is nothing like the feeling after clicking “submit.”  For another, I’ve wanted to share this recipe with you since I first tasted it back in October.   

I seem to find what become my favorite things when I’m searching for something else entirely.  You too?  A few months ago, my friend Niki and I were shopping at Surdyk’s, a favorite local cheese and wine shop, for a nice slab of chocolate to melt down to drinkable form and blend with a pinch of cinnamon and a peppering of cayenne.    It was for a cocktail article I was writing at the time, one with a hovering deadline but still without the perfect and essential recipe that would become the backbone of the piece.

That’s us above, but the set wasn’t taken on the same day as Surdyk’s.  This was at the MN State Fair after we had successfully transferred our own cans of beer into our own plastic cups in a stall of the women’s bathroom.  In the name of saving a few dollars, our deed was justified.  In retrospect, it appears much closer to a cheap act of adult rebellion.  Anyhow, it made us giddy.  Mischief is a common theme when we’re together. Always has been, come to think of it.

But back to the tea. 

We were at Surdyk’s, and thanks to Kelsey, a true chocolate connoisseur, we went home with a slab of better-than-nice.  Not before we tasted more than ten varieties of cheese, naturally.  At the cash wrap, I spotted a sign for this tea.  The ingredient list was printed below the name, and it sounded intriguing enough.  Lemon, ginger, maple syrup, and cayenne.  Yes, yes, yes, and yes.  Even with high expectations, I was in no way prepared for what would happen during the next few seconds it took me to try it.  I was……shocked.  Spicy but comforting, equally sweet and acidic, it was purely addictive, the kind of drink that satisfied a lifelong yearning I never knew was mine until I had my first sip.  It was arresting. 

If you like a good, strong, tart lemon flavor, this tea is for you.  If you would choose fresh-squeezed lemonade over Southern-style sweet tea on a hot, drippy summer day, this tea is for you.  If you get jazzed by sucking on lemon wedges with barely a pucker, to the alarm of those around you, and have been doing so since the age of three, this tea is truly, entirely, unquestionably for you.  It will warm you up and clear your head.  I would go so far as to name this the drink that will sustain you through the rest of this record-breaking winter (I hear it’s cold everywhere).  That’s how much I believe in it.     

I told you this would be worth a full week of waiting. I still believe it’s true, even after four. 

Annie’s Tea (from Surdyk’s)

2 cups lemon juice from about 8 lemons.  You could also use jarred juice, but you won’t get the same results unless it’s the organic, unsweetened, and not-from-concentrate kind.  It makes such a difference with this recipe.

1 cup pure maple syrup.  I know this sounds like an obscene amount, but maple syrup is actually quite low in calories and one of the most healthful sweeteners, rich in anti-oxidants and heart-healthy nutrients.  Use pure maple syrup, something like Anderson’s if you can find it.

3 tablespoons minced ginger.

1 pinch cayenne pepper to start.  Taste after everything is mixed and add more to your liking.

Combine ingredients above in a large saucepan with 3 cups boiling water and simmer for about five to seven minutes, allowing ginger to infuse.  You could pour the liquid through a sieve to catch the ginger if you prefer.  I skip this step - the ginger doesn’t bother me.  In fact, I like the loose pieces floating around in my drink.  Seems more natural, or easy, maybe.

*I also highly suggest that you add a bit of bourbon to your cup just before you pour the tea.  But you probably figured this out on your own.   

Sip.  Repeat as necessary.

Surrogates

Good morning, to you, whoever you are.  Can I tell you something?  I’m not sure who actually reads this besides a handful of my lovely and loyal friends (hi friends!) but that’s more than enough to keep me writing.  So thank you for coming here, for thinking of this site among all of the others that you frequent on a daily basis, for taking time out of your day to visit.  My willingness to share candidly is sustained by the thought of it.  Thank you.   

I was thinking yesterday about all of the women who have, in some way, mothered me.  I recognize immediately and relish in any momentary chance to feel mothered, and I can tell the degree to which I need it at the time when a random act of kindness will make me want to cry.  It doesn’t matter how apparently tiny the gesture.  For me, it is paramount.  It is the reason I am so drawn to my friends’ mothers.  There was a time when I was severely envious of any mother-daughter relationship, even if it wasn’t necessarily the closest kind, even if one or both of them struggled to relate to each other more than they understood each other.  Even if it was something I saw on t.v.  I wanted to have those arguments, those struggles, anything similar to what I was observing.  And I wanted it to be permanent.        

I say “surrogate” for this type of woman, and of course the traditional definition does not necessarily match what I attach it to, but I’m talking about the women who have offered or provided what I imagine a mother would.  It could be just a momentary act of kindness, or something that lasts several years, and it is also everything in between.  I’ve got hundreds of examples, I know, and someday soon I want to share a few stories of these women and what they’ve done for me.  I try to think of it as the universe giving me back a form of what it took away.  It isn’t a replacement, but it is still something I’ve needed as a result of what I lost.  Among other things, these women have set me straight when I’ve needed it and shown me how important it is to seek fulfillment from within.  I’m grateful for that.