P.S. to Sanchez and Food

Strawberry Studiola Cocktail a.k.a. Don’t Get Too Drunk Alone Apertif

For Christianne, who likes strawberries

1 part hibiscus/agave juice concentrate (I used Byssop)

3 parts (or 6—your call!) Vermouth

Lemon juice ice cube (I was bored and froze lemon juice in mini popsicle molds that come with the Baby Bullet. You could just use an ice cube and some lemon juice)

1 TB Lemon zest, grated/or slice

Spray of vanilla extract (or a drop)

5-10 roughly chopped strawberries

Put the liquids, lemon, and half the strawberries in a blender or use an immersion blender and blend.

Put ice cube(s) in a small glass. Pour into the glass. Throw the remaining strawberries (whimsically) into the drink!

Repeat 4-5 times.

And then, I found a way to combine the CJS fruit/vegetable choices, with the help of a handy online recipe.

Strawberry Onion Salsa

The sherry vinegar, I think, seals the deal. I was out of oregano, so I have no idea what it tastes like with oregano. But coriander—who doesn’t want to find more ways to use coriander? That sniffling, haunting, adorable spice.

With the rest of my two pounds of strawberries, I “made” strawberry oatmeal, and I also just ate the strawberries with some tilapia and cilantro last night.

The cashier at Whole Foods really wanted to tell me that last week they were half off. Blah.  I went to Langenstein’s, the family-owned grocery store since 1922, and yep, you can tell. It’s cool, it’s neat, and I’m glad forgetful 80-somethings can go to a place where the cashiers know them and know they already bought cigarettes yesterday, and it’s not time for them to by more, but something about it reminds me of (a tad bit unfairly?) of Calandro’s in Baton Rouge, where the cashiers comment loudly about your purchases, which is still hard for a transplanted city girl like me to deal with.

For the record, the Langenstein’s cashier did not comment loudly on my purchases. She just asked, in earnest, “what in the world do you do with that?” when they scanned things like rice sticks. But then, she said, “Oh, sounds good.”

About alison barker