Hot Bourbon

Mixology

Ah, winter time.

Look into the grim, grey curtain of a February day. The snow, once so gleaming, now looks like tattered bed sheets dripping on the pavement. The cold sneaks her fingers down your collar, into your gloves, and through your socks.

Winter doesn't play. She likes to remind you that, in fact, you are not in charge. The simplest walk is now a harrowing journey; you negotiate whether or not you really need that gallon of milk or want to see that movie.

Winter forces you to get creative. There are always choices. What can you imagine? If it's a choice between being sad and cold or being happy and warm, why choose misery?

Hey! It looks like we're in for another storm, my gentle readers. Care for a suggestion?

Hot Bourbon

boiling water

2 tablespoons of honey

1 quarter of a lemon

3-5 whole cloves

bourbon (I like Elija Craig or Makers for this-- but any bourbon will do)

1. Get that nice mug in your cabinet that you love to drink coffee/tea/hot cocoa out of.

2. Fill it with a couple of ounces of boiling water (about ¼ full of a typical mug)

3. Stir in a a tablespoon (or more) of honey. I like more.

4. Stud the lemon quarter then squeeze the lemon into the mug. Then drop it in.

5. Add bourbon until you double the amount in the mug

6. Stir-- and then sip until it's gone. Repeat as needed.

The Hot Bourbon: a great way to lean into the last few weeks of winter.

Thanks to Esquire magazine, and the entire of country of Ireland, for the recipe for Hot Whiskey Punch.

UPCOMING BLOGS:

review of True Grit and 

an essay on your least favorite food

No One Is Alone

notes from the director

Into the Woods

High schools are wild and wonderful places.

North Shore is filled with energy and exploration. Whether in the classroom, the gym, or the theatre, teenagers are dynamos engaged in the rhythmic pulse of life. I always marvel at the spectacle of starting a theatre production at school. Auditions are exciting and stressful affairs, powered by the electricity of hope and determination. The buzz in the hallways minutes before we start rehearsal reflects the intensity of the teenage life: the strong will for greatness measured by the tense fear of failure.

What happens in our school reflects what happens in our homes, with adults and children. We all want to dare to be wonderful. But we're also afraid that our mistakes will keep us from happiness.

Which do we want more?

Do we want to be daring? To chase adventure and all the risks that come with it? Or do we want to be safe? To protect what we already have and try to avoid losing our most precious treasures?

Welcome to thrilling and terrifying woods of our lives.

Stephen Sondheim, composer and lyricist of Into the Woods, has left out no terror or joy in this piece. We'll watch the characters leave home, lose friends, make new friends, fall in love, fall out of love, and lose their parents.

It's heavy stuff. But we are comforted by the presence of many of our favorite characters: Cinderella, Little Red Ridinghood, the Big Bad Wolf, and Jack and the Beanstalk all walk the stage in this piece. The Baker and His Wife are also here, although we don't celebrate their story too much anymore. Look carefully in our production and you'll see the playful Three Little Pigs, the careless Hansel and Gretel, the graceful Little Bo Peep, and the brave Woodsman.

And the Giant is going to knock your socks off.

So will these kids. They're working for themselves, these actors and musicians and crew members, but they are also working for you. Enjoy them. And, if you can, listen to what they say.

They'll tell you that we must be careful what we teach our children. That being nice and being good are not the same thing. That being brave sometimes requires being vulnerable. That saying hello to new experiences requires us to say goodbye to old experiences.

And they'll tell you that no one is alone.

Welcome to another wonderful season of North Shore Masquers' theatre! We're delighted to begin our Year of the Family with one of the greatest theatrical works of the 20^th Century, Into the Woods.

We dedicate this piece to the children who became our parents. May we remember that they were kids who braved the woods of their own lives. They might leave us, but they are always here.

The Coronet

Mixology


So, I like to make drinks.

I've decided that this blog could use some refreshing, especially given the sub-tropical climate as of late. It's fun to say that something needs 'refreshing.' I'm worried that this word is being hijacked by the internet browser brigade. The purpose of a good drink, a clever rejoinder, or a sparkling introduction is to refresh. To refresh something else is a beautiful, generous thing. It is at the center of hospitality and civility.

Here's to iBlogAmerica's first drink- an original creation! And here's to you.

The Coronet

2 oz. Gin (preferably Hendricks)
a healthy splash of Rosemary infused simple syrup
a cucumber
club soda
ice

To make the syrup, heat a cup of water until it simmers. Slowly add a cup of sugar and kill the heat. Stir until the sugar has melted. Get a handful of rosemary, tear it up, and toss in the syrup to steep for as long as you like. Let syrup cool and bottle it. Some people like to strain the herbs out. Do your thing. Then...

Fill a shaker with ice. Add the gin, the Rosemary syrup, and one or two thin rounds of cucumber, cubed. Shake it like you mean it-- until your hands hurt from the cold of the ice.

Strain into a highball glass (or a glass slipper, a coiled palm frond, or what have you) over ice. Top with club soda and garnish with one or two thinly sliced rounds of cucumber.

Ah, the coronet. Bright, cheery, a little sophisticated, and wildly refreshing.

Sigh. I love the summer.