Celebrate Margarita

Celebrar Margarita

The limes I bought to make some now-forgotten recipe have seen better days, yellowed and rock-like. I do have navel oranges, not as good as the blood orange variety, but way better than any store bought mixer. Really.

I open the bottle of Cazadores Reposado tequila and measure out a shot. I cut one of the hardened limes into wedges and am happy that Ed sharpens the knives on the first of every month. I slide the wedge around the rim of an old-fashion rocks glass and then twirl the lime-soaked rim into a saucer I have layered with coarse, pink Himalayan salt. I wish for some jalapeños or maybe some chipotle salt, but this is not a pre-meditated event. I’m usually just a social drinker, but since I haven’t entertained or been anywhere in over a year, it’s been a long while (I don’t count the occasional take-out margarita from Joselito’s and La Cabinita). A margarita must have salt and I’m happy I have something better than just plain salt. 

I’m not even sure how to use the shaker I own, and I needed to look up the recipe for one margarita. I use my juicer to measure out 3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice and pour it into the shiny, metal shaker along with the tequila.

I don’t have Grand Marnier or Cointreau, nor do I have agave. I think the oranges will do the trick, and I ask Alexa to put some orange liqueur on my shopping list. 

My ice tray isn’t what it should be, but I find enough bits and shards to throw into the shaker. Shake, Shake, Shake. I put the contents into my salted glass and take an unceremonious sip. 

It’s a bit tart, and it’s definitely strong, but both seem apropos for the weight of the week, month, year. It’s been awhile, and there’s hope that this is the first and possible the last time I’ll drink alone. 

Here’s to you!