A Toast to Spring: Rhubarb Whiskey Sour
Yesterday, as I walked though my little town, I became light-headed with the scents of spring. Every tree and shrub seemed to have exploded into shameless bloom almost overnight, and the air was heady with sweetness. The days have warmed considerably and the peas and lettuces I placed, with petitions of strength to weather the frosts, in my garden not quite a month ago, have shot up through the earth and are happily drinking in the sun and occasional moisture. While I was partaking of my first iced coffee of the season at my friend's cozy shop, a woman came in with a basket of rhubarb. Grown in a spot perfect for catching sunlight, her rhubarb was already rapidly producing, and she had come to share her first harvest. (My own plant is still in its alien stage, pushing creepy, red pod-like growths out of the earth.) My friend and I looked at each other and started gleefully listing the things we might do with the fruit (which is truly a vegetable) and after discussing my mother'