Virgin Mojito -- The Island in a Glass, Far From Vieques

Bayamón trip. Week one. I flew down Friday night because the fare was cheaper on Friday and because I wanted Saturday to sleep and to ease into the island. Marisol picked me up. The February light was the softest light I have seen in months. The coquí were singing in her hedges. I slept nine hours the first night.

This trip is shorter than usual — one week instead of two — because of Mateo, because of Mami's fall, because of the imminent retirement and the work I need to do at the hospital to plan the transition. I told Marisol I only had a week. She said, "Then we eat twice as much per day." Fair.

Sunday I went to the market in Plaza del Mercado. I bought four pounds of culantro. Six pounds of ají dulce. A small bag of achiote that is better than anything I can get at the Park Street bodega. Two bottles of vanilla. A sack of coffee beans from Yaucono, because my annual supply of island coffee is a promise I keep to myself. I packed these things carefully in my suitcase lining on Thursday night for the flight home.

Monday Marisol took me to Vieques on a day trip. Pablo drove us to the ferry. The water was turquoise. The beach was nearly empty. We ate mofongo at the kiosk in Esperanza where we ate last year, and the chef recognized me — "Doña Carmen from Hartford, back again" — and served me a plate with extra garlic because he knows I like it. Marisol ate a plate too. We sat at the plastic table and we did not talk much. We ate. We watched the ocean. We thought about Héctor, both of us, who used to come to Vieques with his friends when we were young, who would be in his late fifties now, who is not anything now, because he has been gone for twenty years.

Thursday I visited Julio in San Juan. Sixty-two, semi-retired, runs a small hardware store. He took me to lunch at his favorite place in Santurce — a cafeteria that serves what we call "comida criolla," the everyday Puerto Rican rice-and-beans-and-a-protein lunch. I had pernil with arroz con gandules and the pernil was exactly the pernil of my childhood — not better, not worse, the same — and I thought: I made this. I have been making this pernil for forty years. I have traveled 1,700 miles and ordered lunch and been served my own childhood.

Friday morning Marisol drove me to the airport. She hugged me. She said, "Come back in the summer?" I said, "I will try." I know I will not come back in the summer. I am retiring in June. I will be in Hartford all summer. But I said "I will try," because that is what sisters say. Wepa.

I came home Thursday night with my suitcase full of ají dulce and Yaucono coffee and the smell of salt air still somewhere in my coat. The mofongo at the Esperanza kiosk — all that garlic, all that plantain, the sound of the water while Marisol and I sat quietly and thought of Héctor — is not something I can replicate in Hartford, not exactly, not yet. But when I want to close my eyes and put myself back on that plastic chair with the turquoise water in front of me, I make this: a Virgin Mojito, mint bruised hard in a glass, lime squeezed over ice, a little cane sugar, cold water, and enough green and citrus to remind me that the island is real and I was just there and I will try to go back.

Virgin Mojito

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

Ingredients

• 10 fresh mint leaves, plus 1 sprig for garnish
• 1 oz (2 tablespoons) fresh lime juice (about 1 large lime)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons cane sugar or white granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup cold sparkling water or club soda
• 1/2 cup cold still water or additional sparkling water, to taste
• 1 cup ice cubes
• 1 lime wheel or wedge, for garnish

Instructions

1. Muddle the mint. Place the 10 mint leaves and the sugar in the bottom of a sturdy highball or rocks glass. Use a muddler or the back of a wooden spoon to press and twist firmly — bruise the leaves well to release their oils, but do not shred them into pieces.
2. Add lime juice. Pour the fresh lime juice directly over the muddled mint and sugar. Stir briefly with a spoon to help dissolve the sugar into the juice.
3. Fill with ice. Add the ice cubes to the glass, filling it about three-quarters of the way up.
4. Top with water. Pour the sparkling water (and still water if using) over the ice slowly, starting from the edge of the glass to preserve the carbonation. Stir once gently from the bottom up.
5. Garnish and serve. Tuck the fresh mint sprig and lime wheel or wedge onto the rim or into the glass. Serve immediately while ice-cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 30 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 10mg