We did our annual ski trip last week and YAY!
|Someone's excited. And colorblind.|
|For a brief moment, we behave.|
|What's that old saying about Wrangler butts? Yes, that. But for ski pants.|
|I guess learning to snowboard and then jumping drops is no biggie when you're used to riding bulls.|
|We don't use words so much as middle fingers.|
|Why wouldn't you learn to ski and then, in one hour, throw yourself off of mean drops?|
|Even if you're a chick.|
|I so enjoy being photobombed by friendly skiers.|
|If it's not going to snow, at least there is a great view beyond our fire pit.|
|Also slopeside partying and acting like asses.|
|And s'mores. There's always s'mores.|
|Bubba says YAY to s'mores. And yellow legs.|
|I say just TRY to out-Apres Ski me, people. I know this sport and it is MINE.|
Also, nice job not snowing until Day 5, Steamboat Springs, Colorado - since I had a 3 of 4 day lift pass.
|Photo taken from our condo's window SINCE I WASN'T ON THE SLOPES DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.|
That is no nice.
But even with no new snow until Day 5, we still skied and rode our faces off and that is the important part.
Also cocktails. Cocktails are always the important part regardless of whatever it is we're saying we're doing. And Vacation Cocktails are always fancier than regular At Home On A Tuesday Night Cocktails - just FYI.
|You don't get a lot of this on a random Tuesday night.|
In this case, Vacation Cocktails are more firehole-y than At Home On A Tuesday Night Cocktails, too, even though I promised you a recipe for habanero margaritas that won't give you the condition known as firehole, as I so sorely discovered on Day 5 when I was trying to soothe my OH SURE NOW IT SNOWS sadness with extra tequila.
I should have known that this was not the way to soothe anything. Particularly holes.
But so as not to segue into a delicious recipe on the cusp of flaming butthole talk, I will say that IN MODERATION (something I'll have to become more acquainted with), these cocktails are absolutely yum. Spicy, tangy, sweet, salty and spicy again. Which is why you keep sipping. Because of the spicy. And then it runs the gamut again until you end up at spicy and have to take another sip to cool it down and enjoy it some more and much like anything in life that is both pleasure and pain, you forget the pain when you experience the pleasure and then sometimes you overdo it.
Try not to overdo it on these cocktails because of the aforementioned condition known as firehole.
Maybe only have one or two but definitely not three or five.
Maybe only have one or two but definitely not three or five.
4 shots of premium tequila - not the shitty stuff.
1 1/2 cups All natural margarita mix that doesn't have anything nasty or fake in it.
Juice from 1 fresh lime
1 habanero seeded and thinly sliced
2 lime wedges
Crushed sea salt
In a cocktail shaker add: tequila, lime juice, 1/3 of the sliced habanero and enough ice to fill the shaker to just below the brim. Put on the two piece lid and shake.
Rub the rims of two martini or margarita glasses with the lime wedge, press the rims into a plate of sea salt and coat it how you like it. For me, I like A LOT of salt because I'm a heathen, but you do what you like.
Remove the lid cap and pour the strained cocktail into the glasses, dividing evenly so that you don't hog it all for yourself JERK and add a few rings of habanero (DO NOT TOUCH WITH YOUR FINGERS OR ELSE YOU'LL BE SAD LATER WHEN YOU RUB YOUR EYES OH MY GOD) and the lime wedge.
But only twice at most. I'm telling you that the third one is a bad idea. After two, I felt great and had an amazing day the next day riding the mountain. After three, I had a migraine (oh hooray) and wanted to die and take people down with me.
|ONLY TWO I SAID.|
And now that I've filled your eyes with snow and cocktail based goodness, let me fill it with disbelief:
I am SO over bacon on everything.
Yes, you read that correctly. I am taking a bacon break. Because it's fucking everywhere and on everything and every restaurant and soul on the planet thinks that the way to improve all foods and drinks and sexual experiences is to put bacon on it or infuse bacon in it or wrap bacon around it and, people, NO.
It's not the Make Everything Better Machine.
It's not the magic ingredient in The Perfect Food.
It's not how you rescue a horrific meal crime from the grips of catastrophic failure.
It's also not how you "improve" already amazing things, for example a brownie sundae.
Brownie sundaes are amazing tasting things. They're horrible for you, yes, and not a culinary creation requiring masterful skill and French training, but they taste like heaven. Gooey rich brownie hiding under cool vanilla bean ice cream melting beneath warm velvety fudge sauce and maybe some crushed walnuts. THAT is amazing.
It's perfect. Even when judged by my Roman friend who is at once a talented chef, experienced and discerning fine diner and certified sommelier.
It doesn't need anything else other than maybe a bigger spoon and a dark room in which I may sit and quietly activate the conveyor belt in order to get it into my naked waiting body as fast as mechanically possible.
Maybe that. But nothing else. And certainly not crumbled bits of meat.
Bacon needs to be put back on the shelf because, in addition to the potential complications it may cause during naked brownie sundae ingestion, it's just not a necessary enhancement for ice cream, hot fudge and brownies.
Or shrimp, poutine, hot dogs or TV shows.
Why in the ever-loving fuck do we have a show about some poor soon-to-be-flat lining dude going around our ever-swelling country eating his ever-swelling weight in bacon?
Because we're sick fucks, is why. But that's beside the point. I'm not going to go on a rant about all that. You can look around at your fellow Americans and think about the implications of the ever-swellingness on your own time.
All I'm saying is that I am taking a break from bacon until such time that it, once again, feels and tastes like the uniquely sensational and otherworldly experience that I remember from the Pre-Bacon On Everything times before it jumped the shark more dramatically than the saying's namesake and became the "Uh, I dunno - put bacon on it. Everyone seems to like it so much. We'll sell a million of last year's ski parkas if they just have bacon on them somewhere." answer to all of life's questions.
And I say this with a chest freezer full of bacon, more than a few posts involving bacon and a history of buying into a bacon of the month club, friends. That bacon is just going to have to sit out in the freezer until such time that it's special and new again and I'll thank the restaurants and people of the world to find themselves another menu darling until such time that bacon isn't the default ingredient in every dish, drink and home remedy.
OK, I'm done now.