There are only five foods I won’t eat. Raisins, lima beans, cherries, liver, black licorice. People are mostly astounded by the presence of raisins and cherries on my list. Even in Door County, WI, home of the über Cherry Zealots, I hated the cherries fresh off the trees. George Washington might as well have chopped down all the cherry trees as far as my palate is concerned. They all taste like Robitussin to me. As for raisins, I ask, why ruin a perfectly good grape? There’s no raison d’etre for raisins in my book.
One thing I do love, however, is the craisin. Delightful in homemade trail mix, in steel cut oats, or atop a spinach salad. I love the craisin as much as I love its less wrinkled counterpart, the cranberry. But God help me, my love ends in the can. Congealed cranberry sauce with the can indentations around its middle are the work of the culinary devil. Fall speaks of cranberry to me. For starters, the ruby color is gorgeous. I covet a lip color that would stain my lips the color of cranberry skin. I would also love a winter coat in that glorious crimson shade. It would be the kind of coat I’d never take off. Or the kind of figure flattering coat I’d belt and wear with tall boots and nothing else to greet Mac Daddy upon his return from a business trip. Ooh la la. Cranberries are sexy, baby. The Ocean Spray commercials are a tish daft for my liking, but I can see beyond that. Cranberry juice is begging to be mixed with something more potent. Its sweet yet bitter tones pair well with spirits ranging from bourbon to vodka.
I’m stirring the spirits up a bit over here and using rum today.
Crimson Crush
3 ounces cranberry juice (Just the cranberries, its favorite compadre apple juice isn’t on the dance card today.)
1 ounce grapefruit juice (pink if you want to stay in the color wheel)
1 ounce white rum
splash tonic
lemon twist
Fill a tall acrylic glass with ice. I say acrylic because you need something unbreakable to take outside on a winsome autumn evening. Pour in the rum. Add cranberry juice and grapefruit juice. Top off with tonic. Stir ever so slightly. Garnish with a lemon twist. I don’t do math, but the proportions could easily be multiplied to suit a pitcher so you don’t need to make so multiple trips in and out.
Hail to the cranberry, the fruit that’s just as delightful fresh or all dried up. That’s more than I can say about my sense of humor.
PS
Any allusions to sports implied by the “Crimson Crush” moniker are purely accidental (I think I’m talking about Harvard and Alabama here but I’m not sure.). I don’t know a thing about sports, nor do I care.