Green Margaritas

February. Luis Jr.'s deployment is halfway done. Four and a half months gone. Four and a half months remaining. The halfway mark feels significant — not mathematically (halfway is just halfway) but emotionally, because halfway means the descent has begun, the return is closer than the departure, and the closer is the only direction I want. He calls on Sundays when he can. The calls are five to seven minutes. He says he's fine. He says the food is bad. He says he misses my tortillas. The three constants of every call: fine, bad food, tortillas. I have come to love these three words the way I love the three ingredients of a tortilla — flour, salt, water. Simple. Essential. The whole story in three words.

The bakery had its best January ever — eleven thousand in revenue, up from eight thousand last January. The lunch service is the engine: soups and tortas driving the growth while the conchas hold steady. Sofia's farmers' market is contributing two thousand a month. The total picture: a bakery that is not just surviving but thriving, not just getting by but getting ahead, and the getting-ahead is new and slightly disorienting, like driving a road you've only ever walked — faster, smoother, but the same road.

Camila's chorus rehearsals continue every Saturday. Ms. Torres has moved her to a more prominent position in the choir — second row, near the sopranos who carry the melody, because Camila's voice carries melody the way bread carries butter: naturally, completely, as if it was designed for exactly this purpose. The spring concert is in April. Camila is practicing at home, which means the house vibrates with scales and arpeggios from 7 AM to 8 PM and the dog next door has started howling at the A above middle C, which Camila considers "harmonizing."

I made chicharrones en salsa verde this week — the pork cracklings softened in tomatillo sauce, a variant on Rosa's red-sauce version, adapted by me because the tomatillos at the market were perfect and perfection demands adaptation. The chicharrones absorbed the green sauce and became tender and tangy and the dish was somewhere between Rosa and Maria Elena — a hybrid, a bridge recipe, the food of a woman who honors the past and cooks in the present simultaneously.

After I made the chicharrones en salsa verde—after the tomatillos had done their work, after the dish turned into something that was both Rosa and me at once—I stood in the kitchen and thought: halfway deserves a drink. Not wine, not beer. Something green. Something tart and bright and a little unexpected, the way this whole season has been. The bakery is thriving, Camila is harmonizing with the neighbor’s dog, and Luis Jr. is closer to home than he is to departure. A green margarita felt exactly right: the same color as the sauce that started the evening, and the same spirit as a woman who honors where she came from while living fully in the present.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup fresh tomatillo juice or green grape juice (about 4–5 tomatillos, blended and strained, or substitute cucumber-lime juice)
3/4 cup silver tequila
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (about 4–5 limes)
1/4 cup triple sec or Cointreau
2 tablespoons agave syrup, or to taste
1 cup ice, plus more for serving
Coarse salt or Tajin, for rimming glasses
Lime wedges and thin cucumber slices, for garnish
Small bunch fresh cilantro or mint leaves, optional garnish

Instructions

Prepare the glasses. Run a lime wedge around the rim of each glass. Dip the rim in coarse salt or Tajin spread on a small plate. Set glasses aside.
Make the green base. If using fresh tomatillos, remove husks, rinse well, and blend until smooth. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve, pressing solids to extract all juice. Discard solids. You need 1 cup of liquid.
Combine the cocktail. In a cocktail shaker, combine the tomatillo (or green) juice, tequila, fresh lime juice, triple sec, and agave syrup. Add 1 cup ice.
Shake. Seal the shaker and shake vigorously for 15–20 seconds, until the outside of the shaker feels very cold.
Taste and adjust. Open the shaker, taste, and add more agave if you prefer a sweeter drink or more lime juice for extra tartness. Shake briefly again.
Serve. Fill the prepared glasses with fresh ice. Strain the margarita mixture evenly over the ice. Garnish each glass with a lime wedge, a cucumber slice, and a sprig of cilantro or mint if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Green Margaritas — A Toast to the Halfway Mark, Tomatillos, and Coming Home