Bloody Mary — A Raised Glass for the Last Day of School

Sean's school year ended Friday. Last day of classes, last grade submitted, last desk cleaned out. He came home at 4 PM with a cardboard box of end-of-year student cards and a Starbucks gift card from one kid's parent and the specific relief of a teacher who has just finished. He collapsed on the couch. He said "we made it." I brought him a beer. I said "we did."

Summer schedule begins. Sean at home most days. Liam in day camp two days a week at a place in Quincy — a gentle, small camp, mostly outside, run by people I have known of for years. Nora still at preschool three days a week because her program is year-round. The logistical footprint of the summer is the reverse of the school year. Sean does most of the kid-time. I work my normal clinic schedule.

The tomato plants are now four feet tall and I have spotted the first little green tomatoes. Six on the Early Girl, three on the Sungold, a few buds on the Cherokee Purple. The lettuce has given us three salads already. The radishes are in their second wave. The peas have been prolific — a cup and a half a day for two weeks now, which is enough for both kids and for the big bowl of peas I make for dinner and for the cold pea soup I intend to make soon. The spinach bolted on schedule. I planted a second row. I am gardening.

I made a garden salad Friday — everything from the raised beds, plus some farmer's-market cucumber and radish, a hard-boiled farm egg for each of us, a simple red-wine vinaigrette with shallot, and a crusty loaf with butter. It was the best salad I have made in years. Because it was mine. Because I had grown half of it and chosen the rest carefully. Because Sean had come home from school to eat it with me. Because Liam ate a lettuce leaf and said "this is the good one, Mommy." Because Nora asked for a radish, tried it, and spit it out on the floor, which is a repeat performance I find comforting.

The MRI is June 29. Five days. I am not writing about it. I am not. I am writing about the garden. I am writing about the salad. I am writing about the day camp Liam loves.

Liam reported from day camp Wednesday that he had made a friend named Henry who was five and who knew how to whistle. Liam is campaigning to learn to whistle. He is not yet succeeding. He is producing an air hiss with sincerity. I have not corrected him. The whistling will emerge when it emerges.

The clinic had a patient-family conversation Wednesday afternoon I will not describe. I came home and sat on the back step for ten minutes. Sean found me. He did not ask. He sat next to me. He put his hand on my knee. We watched the light fall. He said "you okay." I said "yeah." I said "the MRI is the 29th." He said "I know." We sat. The garden was in front of us. The tomatoes were working at being tomatoes. The light was the specific June light that Boston gets. I loved my husband. I love my husband. I will keep writing about the garden.

I brought Sean a beer that Friday, because it was what I had and what he needed, but the drink I kept thinking about — the one that matched the mood, the tomatoes working at being tomatoes out back, the specific relief of a school year finally finished — was a Bloody Mary. Something with a little ceremony to it. Something that tastes like a garden and feels like an exhale. If you have a Friday in June that deserves more than a beer but less than a whole production, this is the one.

Bloody Mary

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 1

Ingredients

• 2 oz vodka
• 4 oz tomato juice
• 1/2 oz fresh lemon juice
• 1/2 oz Worcestershire sauce
• 1/4 tsp prepared horseradish
• 3–4 dashes hot sauce (such as Tabasco), or to taste
• 1/4 tsp celery salt, plus more for the rim
• Pinch of freshly ground black pepper
• Pinch of smoked paprika (optional)
• Ice
• Garnishes: celery stalk, lemon wedge, green olives, pickled pepperoncini

Instructions

1. Rim the glass. Run a lemon wedge around the rim of a tall glass, then dip into a small plate of celery salt to coat. Fill the glass with ice and set aside.
2. Mix the drink. In a cocktail shaker or a separate tall glass, combine the vodka, tomato juice, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, horseradish, hot sauce, celery salt, and black pepper. Stir thoroughly until everything is well combined.
3. Taste and adjust. Before serving, taste for balance. Add more lemon for brightness, more hot sauce for heat, or a touch more Worcestershire for depth. This is a drink that rewards a moment of attention.
4. Serve. Pour the mixture over the iced, rimmed glass. Dust lightly with smoked paprika if using.
5. Garnish. Tuck in a celery stalk, a lemon wedge, and any other garnishes you like. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 135 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 510mg