“I’m very busy.”
Her face loomed over mine. “You’re lying on the floor.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m helping the fungus on my back flourish.”
She took a step away, but only to prod me with her foot. “You promised you’d help me write another Valentine’s Day post.”
“Two days ago.”
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
The prodding stopped. A phone appeared. A pink cocktail glowed on the screen. “Remember that first one we did?”
“Well, halfway through the night you said that you’d help me do another one if I made you a few more drinks.”
“I don’t remember that either.”
But my roommate and I do things differently. I eat pizza on the couch and watch her do P90X. She puts garnishes on bowls of vegetarian tofu-noodle stir-fry, and I drink beer. Valentine’s Day is no different.
“Look,” I said, and I even sat up, which is an effort I feel she didn’t fully appreciate. “Unless it involves alcohol, I’m not going to help you shoot glitter beams into people’s eyes.”
“It’s a food blog. We should cook.”
“I won’t do it.”
We stared each other down. I could tell she was getting annoyed, and arguing with Sarah while she’s angry is like competing for a walk through hot coals. Even if you win, you lose.
“Fine,” I relented. “I’ll do it.”
“But you’re not going to like it.”
“And I’m not going to cook.”
“Fine. I’ll cook and write it myself.”
“Then it’s going to sound like a Hallmark card.”
So, here it is. For everyone that would rather celebrate what they aren’t missing on Valentine’s Day, I dedicate this Campari blood orange cocktail to you.
Blood and Tears
A Campari blood orange cocktail
How to Put It in Your Mouth:
In a cocktail shaker, combine:
- 1 oz. of all the bitterness you hold towards your exes and lost loves. Or Campari. Whatever’s on hand.
- ¼ cup of the sour taste they leave in your mouth, via lime juice.
- 1 or 2 seeded slices of jalapeño, for the pain you endured.
- ¼ teaspoon salt for the tears you’ve shed. Real tears will also suffice.
- ¼ cup blood orange juice, in honor of all their blood you didn’t spill.
- 1 teaspoon simple syrup / Splenda, because you’ve suffered enough.
Add ice. Like the kind your ex is made of.
Shake. Strain and serve over more ice in a Rocks glass. Garnish with a blood orange and jalapeño slice. Drink and repeat several times because, hell, there’s no one to tell you not to!
(As a side note, I realize the combination of Campari blood orange and salt is sort of strange, but this drink comes together like someone after a series of crappy relationships: it’s well-balanced, refined, and just a little bitter. Give it a try; the depth of flavor is amazing.)
Photography by Sarah Alice Photography (sarahalice.net)