Homework

Whooboy, it’s been a time around here, chickens.  I’m deep, deep in the crunch, though not yet in the weeds thank God, with a book deadline July 15.  So if postings get a little catch-as-catch can, fear not, it’s just that the book has eaten my head, my hands, and probably my cooking time, as well as pretty much everything else.

I did get to cook yesterday, though, as a celebration of both my finally finishing a complete draft of the whole book (cue vuvuzelas!) and a dear friend’s birthday (cue birthday cake!).  I made a Mexican feast: carnitas, frijoles, pico de gallo, veggies from the garden, sliced avocado, and bought a kilo of fine, fine tortillas from Tortilleria Sinaloa across town in Fell’s Point.  (I never want to live in a town without a good tortilleria again.)

So tonight I’m having leftovers.  Chopped chard and purslane from the garden topped with a bunch of carnitas and several large spoonfuls of pico de gallo.  In the little dish, some Korean-style pickled daikon.  And in the big quart Mason jar, a big ol’ vat of iced tea with plenty of lemon juice.  Just think of the pickled daikon as Korean curtido.  Muy rico no matter what.

On this Cinco de Mayo, I want to make a public service announcement in the form of a drink recipe.

There is only one recipe for margaritas.  Or at least only one worth bothering with.

I know what you’re thinking, and possibly saying to yourselves, but bear with me here.  Like the Caesar salad, which which it shares a more or less Mexican identity as expressed through a plethora of origin stories, the margarita has suffered many indignities at the hands of those who claim to love it.  And like the Caesar salad, underneath the heaping piles of versions and alternatives and cracked-out variations, there is actually a classic recipe that is very simple and very good.

A margarita consists of three things.  Four, if you absolutely must indulge your sweet tooth.

First, it consists of two ounces of good tequila.  I enjoy Don Julio Añejo.

Second, it consists of one ounce of Cointreau.  (Triple Sec is also an option.)

Third, it consists of an ounce of freshly-squeezed lime juice.

Fourth, and optionally, it consists of a small amount, a teaspoon or so, of sugar.  Superfine sugar will dissolve most easily.

A margarita is made thus: place the above ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice, and shake well.  Strain into a glass.  The glass need not be rimmed with coarse salt although you may if you like.

That is a margarita.

Other things may be mixed drinks containing tequila, but they are not margaritas.  Mostly, what is served under the name “margarita” in the USA seems to be a Slurpee with a hard-on.

If that’s what you want to drink, more power to you.

But if you want to drink a margarita, now you know how to make one.

Salud!