Lemons are magical, aren’t they? They are Jacks of all trades, Masters of all, and infinitely adaptable chameleons in the kitchen. Their juice goes onto fish, into salad dressings and marinades, over pasta, into soups, and in a fit of kitchen chemistry, becomes hollandaise (the most perfect sauce of all time). Their zest is added to everything from savory sauces to fruit crumbles. They are always the strong supporting actress, but rarely the lead. When they do win that coveted role though, they always come away with an Oscar.
I spent Sunday afternoon at the Big Apple BBQ. It was a perfect, sunny, pork-infested, beer-soaked weekend summer day. But oh, it was hot. And I was sweaty. And all I wanted, all I needed, when I got home, was something refreshing. Of course, buying a lemonade on the way home would have been too easy; why would I ever take the easy road? That’s silly.
Well folks, it is officially picnic season, not to mention BBQ season and pool party season and dinner on the fire-escape season. Chances are, you’re going to need to bring some eats to a party or twelve this summer and I promise you, you want this recipe in your back pocket.
What a week. This week has been a whirlwind of work and science and clients and go go go go go go nodontstop! Truthfully, it’s been more like the last 3 weeks of insanity. My brain has officially liquified. I need a cupcake.
Oh man, I am so, so pissed. Can you see it? Look closer. Right there, near the center, but slightly down and to the right. The smudge, the slightly blurry smudge marring every. single. one. of my photos. I’m like to scream. At first, I thought I was just going blind-12 hours a day on the computer will do that to a girl. But then I realized that it was true, that evil little smudge was real and not even one of my photos escaped its greasy grip. So I guess c’est la vie; things cannot always be perfect. I still have to tell you about this food. Let’s move on.
I think I owe March an apology. It’s always been my least favorite month and I’ve not been shy about that declaring that fact. It falls at the tail end of winter, when we’re all just sun-starved and anxious for spring, and tortures us with it’s cold wind and barren trees. Usually. This year, March has been a dream-nothing but unseasonably warm weather and sun. Even if the temperature plummets tomorrow, I think March has done plenty to disprove its unsavory reputation. So I’m sorry I was always so hateful towards you , March. I’m glad you’re here.