It’s a pretty good party.
There is good jazz playing in the background — Louis Armstrong, and Tony Bennet, and Nina Simone, with a sprinkling of Sinatra. Good stuff, but not distracting, nothing that anyone will have a deep attachment to from high school. Nobody’s going to shout, “Hey! Crank that up!” and derail the vibe.
There’s a nice blend of guests — obligatory family members, and actual friends you want to spend time with. Interestingly, your college roommate has struck up a friendship with your Uncle Charley with the conspiracy theories. They’re both smiling and gesturing wildly, so they seem to have found some common ground.
You don’t have a fireplace, but there’s a Yule log burning on the TV screen, which also keeps your cousin from switching on the game.
Everyone has brought something for the Yankee swap. You’ve got a good feeling about this year. You spent all year combing flea markets and yard sales and finally scored a brass sculpture of an exotic dancer with a clock in her belly. She’s wrapped inconspicuously in plain brown paper with a tag that says, “Open me. Or not. It’s no skin off my nose either way.”
Dinner went well — tacos, so everybody got a little bit of what they wanted. There’s tres leches cake for dessert. It took a couple of years to convince the family to try it, but now it’s become a tradition. A couple of years ago a slightly inebriated cousin spent 15 minutes enthusiastically explaining tres leches to your friend Maria, who grew up in Chiapas.
“It’s like CAKE, but it’s uh, um —,” he said for the third time.
“Wet?” Maria suggested, with a small smile on her face.
“YES! It’s CAKE but it’s WET!” he half-shouted enthusiastically.
“And cold?” Maria suggested again.
“AND COLD!!!” he agreed, beaming at Maria, filled with goodwill and Budweiser, then staggered off to find a couch.
You have three or four children at the party this year and they are so full of tacos and cake that if it weren’t for the promise of presents they’d have fallen asleep by now.
Your mother and her sister are getting along tonight. It’s always a toss-up whether they will get along, or end up looking at old family photos, which will remind them of some half-forgotten grudge from the 1970s, and releasing the Drama Kraken.
All in all, it’s a pretty good evening, as long as you keep topping off everyone’s glass. That’s why it’s a good idea to make batches of drinks ahead of time.
For instance:
- Raspberry-Rose Rickey
- 1 12-ounce package frozen raspberries
- 1 cup floral gin – I used Uncle Van’s and was very pleased
- ½ cup sugar
- ½ cup fresh squeezed lime juice – about 4 limes
- ¼ teaspoon rose water
- plain seltzer
Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Stir to combine, and leave, covered, for an hour at room temperature.
Mash the contents with a potato masher, re-cover, and leave for another hour.
Stir, then strain with a fine-mesh strainer. You will not believe how many seeds raspberries have in them.
In a rocks glass with ice or crushed ice, fill with the raspberry-gin mixture, then top with seltzer. Stir.
Roses and berries have a natural affinity for each other. In this case, the background flavor of roses should add a woody/floral note that will meld with the floral gin. In turn, gin and lime are a classic combination, as are lime and raspberries. The four main ingredients chase each other around and around, tickling your palate.
This is a fairly low-octane, not-too-sweet drink that even your most suspicious relatives will accept. Your actual friends will probably love it.
It’s like RASPBERRIES, but WET, with ROSES dunked in it!
It’s time to find somewhere to sit.
Featured photo: Raspberry-Rose Rickey. Photo by John Fladd.
