Strawberry Brambles

First week of June. Hartford settled into real warmth — seventy-eight on Tuesday, eighty on Wednesday, a beautiful breeze on Thursday. I ate lunch on the back porch Thursday with Eduardo. He had a sandwich. I had a salad I had made from Eduardo's first lettuce harvest — he planted lettuce this year in addition to tomatoes, and the lettuce came in fast, soft, bright green. I tossed it with vinaigrette and served it alongside his sandwich. He said, "Carmen, the lettuce is correct." He meant the vinaigrette. He meant the whole thing. He meant his own work on the lettuce. He meant my work on the vinaigrette. He meant the porch and the breeze and the afternoon. He meant everything.

Lucas came Wednesday. We made mofongo together for the first time. The simple kind — no stuffing, just the mashed plantain with garlic and chicharrón. Lucas mashed the plantains in the pilón with the heavy pestle. He said, "Abuela, this is hard." I said, "Yes, mijo. Mofongo is hard. That is why we do not make it every day." He mashed for eight minutes. His arm got tired. I took over. We finished together. He ate three bites and declared it "good but chewy." I said, "Mijo, mofongo is not chewy." He said, "A little chewy." I said, "Maybe you mashed too softly." He said, "Maybe." Fair.

Food bank Monday and Thursday went well. Monday was asopao. Thursday was pernil again (demand). We had 146 on Thursday. The word is out. Amelia said, "Carmen, we need more tables." I said, "Amelia, or we need to cap service." She said, "I refuse to cap service." I said, "Then we need more tables." We are getting two more picnic tables next week.

Mami Sunday was present but tired. She ate. She said little. At one point she looked at me and said, "Carmen, I am not going to last forever." I said, "Mami, do not say that." She said, "I want to say it. So you hear it. So you are ready." I did not cry. I had prepared. I said, "Mami, I know." She said, "Good." She ate another bite. She said, "But not soon. I am not saying soon. I am saying eventually." I said, "Okay, Mami." She nodded. She asked for coffee. I made coffee. We moved on.

Saturday I wrote in the notebook. I wrote a small essay at the back of volume two titled "Things Mami Told Me That I Want to Remember." I wrote down twelve things. The things her mother told her that she told me. The things I had not known Abuela Consuelo did. The things about my father. The things about Héctor. The things about her own childhood in a sewing-shop house in the mountains before she married Papi and moved to Bayamón. The things are not recipes. But they are the archive. They are in the notebook. Wepa.

That Thursday porch lunch with Eduardo — the lettuce, the breeze, the way he said “Carmen, the lettuce is correct” and meant absolutely everything — that is the kind of afternoon I want to hold onto. The week had been full: Lucas and the mofongo, the food bank, Mami’s quiet words on Sunday, the notebook. Full and good and a little heavy all at once. So I want to leave you with something light and summery and easy, the kind of thing you make when the afternoon is warm and you just want to sit outside and feel grateful that the week happened the way it did. These Strawberry Brambles are exactly that.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
1/2 cup fresh or frozen blackberries
2 oz gin (or vodka for a lighter flavor)
1 oz blackberry liqueur (crème de mure or blackberry brandy)
1 oz fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
3/4 oz simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water, dissolved)
Crushed ice
2 oz club soda or sparkling water, to top
Fresh berries and lemon slices, for garnish

Instructions

Make the simple syrup. Combine 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 cup water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar fully dissolves, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool completely.
Muddle the fruit. Add the strawberries and blackberries to a cocktail shaker or a sturdy glass. Muddle firmly until the fruit releases its juice and breaks down, about 30 seconds.
Combine and shake. Add the gin, blackberry liqueur, lemon juice, and simple syrup to the shaker with the muddled fruit. Fill with ice. Shake vigorously for 15 seconds until well chilled.
Strain and serve. Fill two rocks glasses with crushed ice. Double-strain the cocktail through a fine mesh strainer into the glasses, pressing the fruit solids gently to extract all the juice.
Top and garnish. Add a splash of club soda to each glass. Garnish with a fresh strawberry, a few blackberries, and a thin lemon slice on the rim. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberry Brambles — Something Cool for the Porch After a Full Week