It’s Saturday. And tomorrow is Sunday — Cinco de Mayo, to be exact. That means you still have all day to collect the ingredients for this fiery cocktail that’s sure to light up your weekend fiesta!
First, we have agave: 100% agave tequila (I prefer the bold, biting flavor of blanco for this recipe) and agave nectar, which adds a touch of sweetness. (If you don’t have agave nectar, you can substitute simple syrup by boiling equal parts sugar and water on the stove until the sugar is dissolved.)
Then we add a jalapeño for kick. And for an even bigger kick, we salt the rims with spice rub. That’s right, it’s getting hot up in here! I like to use a smoked spice rub to complement the punchy-ness and tartness of the grapefruit, the same kind of spice that I rub on my meat. Think ancho chiles, chipotle chilies, paprika, cumin, garlic… something along the lines of smoky, spicy, and slightly sweet. Use a pre-made rub or freestyle your own, but if this is all too weird for you, an old-fashioned salt rim works too.
Then head out to your garden (or the store) and pick a couple of grapefruits and limes to top off what I like to call a gartending concoction — garden bartending, that is.
I guarantee you will be the most popular peep at that party tomorrow. Better stock up.
I’m starting my first series on the blog today, and hopefully I’ll be disciplined enough to keep it up!
Five Things Friday will be a new feature every other Friday that recaps the five little things that made my week. It’ll give you a glimpse into the goings-on in my life… things that don’t need a whole entry to themselves, but are still worthy of sharing because they put a smile on my face.
1. The first tomatoes of the season.
Actually, make that two and a half years… Back in September 2010, I rooted a bunch of lemongrass stalks (purchased from the produce aisle) and planted them in the ground. They were given ample sun, weekly watering in the summer, no (or hardly any) watering in the winter, and quickly grew into something that kinda resembled Cousin It.
Let’s be frank (actually, Bu) here. There’s not really a cow that surfs in Malibu (at least, none that I’ve ever seen when I’ve been paddling out there). But there is a cow (make that many cows) that enjoys a happy existence on a Central California farm, grazing on non-genetically modified feed and pooping to its heart’s content.
Cow poop is probably not something you think about much, but picture this: That happy cow sends its food through a complex digestive system that breaks it all down into a nutrient-rich mass. That mass becomes cow poop. That poop is amended with yarrow, chamomile, valerian, stinging nettle, dandelion, and oak bark herbal preparations to help bring in beneficial microbes. That in turn is composted with a lot of love and gratitude on a biodynamic farm, under a cosmic cycle that follows the rhythms of nature and respects the life forces that sustain the earth — the forces you cannot see but can still feel, that work meticulously to provide you with good soil and garden bounty.
This entire process, my friends, is what makes Malibu Compost so special.
Sometimes I wonder if these types of posts need any narration at all. Sometimes I feel the pictures tell the full story, and they do a better job than I ever could describing the grandeur and beauty of the Eastern Sierra backcountry. So, I’ll try to let them do most of the talking…
I only go backpacking once or twice a year, and every time I do, I wonder why I don’t do it more often. Backpacking takes me deep into the dream worlds I can’t see from the road or experience on a day hike. Backpacking feels like a secret society of sorts; where only you and your fellow Bonesmen know what gems lie beyond the trail and just over the ridge.
Every season, I let a few of my radish plants flower and seed. Some I leave to collect seed for next season, and some I leave to harvest the pods. Amid this tangled mess of vines is a handful of daikon radish plants — plants that had grown over 4 feet tall, full of little white blossoms and slender green pods.
I had a visitor in the garden yesterday. Or rather, my chickens had a visitor… in their coop, nestled deep in a corner with just a small tuft of fur sticking out.
At first, I didn’t even see this little critter. I was making my way down to the chicken coop to rake out the sand and tuck the girls in for the night. When I bent down, I saw a ball of black fur that barely moved. I couldn’t really tell if it was breathing, and I couldn’t even tell what it was. It was too small to be anything but a mouse or a rat, but the fur was unusually long and spiky for the rodents I’ve seen scurrying in the yard.