Here, there are small beaches where you are frequently the only person on them. Seagulls caw and while I’m sure they’re saying, “Over here! There’s a chubby baby boy napping and he looks very tasty!” I like them anyway. There are enough wineries that if you tried to hit two a day for a week, you wouldn’t get to all of them (but you should try, anyway) and every farm stand brags about their blackberries. There’s an old-fashioned chocolate shop with an actual old-fashioned looking guy in the next room, making your daily dose of dark chocolate turtles. We’ve passed something called a Farm Preschool which I’ve decided I’ll attend instead of the baby because why should he have all the fun? I’m reading a book I was sure I’d find unendurable and actually liking it (though likely because I’m still on the part about the eatin’). And there are 7-11’s all over this town.
If I have accidentally given off the impression that I was cool growing up, let me set it straight right here: my idea of a good time was going to 7-11 with my friends and getting Slurpees. Sometimes we’d take them out to the beach and play Skee-Ball on the boardwalk, exchanging a wad of winning tickets for useless junk that we’d find in the back of a car years later, sometimes we’d idle in the parking lot until the owners frowned at us, but always, there were Slurpees. I only drank mine in cherry, because that’s what Veronica did in Heathers, but I’d settle for any flavor that came in that neon red color that made me look like a little kid that had gotten into her mother’s lipstick again.
I never once thought about recreating my own at home until we were cleaning out the fridge (or trying to) on the Friday before we left and I saw that I had a half-pint of raspberries and a cup of freshly-squeezed lime juice that’d I’d been saving… for that day, clearly. I’m pretty sure people have been trying to sell me on the raspberry-lime combination for years but I’d never actually crashed them into each other until that day in my blender and hot damn people, that was a huge mistake. I cannot get over how made for each other these two flavors are, blended with sugar, ice and well, honestly, a little too much water. I was kind of making it up as a I went along and didn’t exactly achieve perfectly emulsified Slurpeedom but we could not care. It has been well over a decade since anything both frozen and fizzy tasted that good.
* For those of you in woeful 7-11 free places, Slurpees are a no doubt horrid HFCS-laden concoction of super-sweet brightly-colored soda and slushy ice that came forth from knobs so powerfully that only regulars knew how to get that all in your overly-large plastic domed cup. I’ve got mad skills, is what I’m trying to say here.
One year ago: Lobster Rolls and Espresso Chiffon Cake with Fudge Frosting
Two years ago: Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake
Three years ago: Brownie Mosaic Cheesecake [The above archives brought to you by Alex’s birthday week. Lucky dog, isn’t he?]
Raspberry Limeade Slushies
Serves 4, generously
1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice
1 cup raspberries
1 cup water
4 cups ice
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup soda water
Lime wedges, for serving
4 chilled glasses, if you’re feeling fancy (or are interested in your slushie staying slushy longer)
In a blender, blend the lime juice, raspberries, water, ice and sugar until slushy. Pour into glasses. Top off with about 1/4 cup soda water and garnish with a lime wedge. Drink quickly enough to get a brain freeze.
If you’re averse to raspberry seeds (I generally am, but was feeling rushed that day), you can puree the berries first, press them through a fine-mesh strainer to remove the seeds, then put them back in the blender and add the rest of the ingredients. I will note that the seeds were far less annoying than I’d expected them to be, likely because they’re less noticeable with the added texture from the ice.
Also: I probably don’t need to tell you how good this would be with booze.