Once
upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over
many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly
there came a tapping,
As
of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“ Tis
some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
-Edgar
Allen Poe’s The Raven
Springtime
showers and late May flowers typically bring
snuffly noses, watery eyes, and an endless bombardment of sinus pressures. Pollen
falls like star dust. The sensation of change trickles down cheeks like cool
spring rain. Goosebumps cascade along the spine. The skies are an ember gray
and laced with dark emotion. The smell
of lavender and daisy fill the room, but I can’t smell their intoxicating scent.
The bed sheets lie gently over the top of
my torso as I close my eyes, praying the coming of darkness and sleep. I take a
breath through my nose. Nothing. Stopped by my inability to breath with
regularity. My head is pounding. Cement that seems to be filling my sinus
cavities. Times trudges slowly as the day ticks calmly
forward. I curl up and try to sleep, but the light refuses to dim.
Folks, I’m sick.
It’s cold and
flu season here in the Midwest. Pollen floats by like snowflakes in December, and the air is thick with the heaviness of life and the coming of rain. Like
clockwork, I perpetually get a cold towards the end of May and into early June.
My sinuses swell, and I feel like I’m
dying. I can’t breathe, and my throat
feels more like a scratching post than a channel
way for air. After the guys getaway trip to Cincinnati this past
Memorial Day weekend, I was greeted with a generous case of the sniffles. As an
adult, being sick is worst. All I want to do is lie in bed for hours on end,
but the hovering notion of responsibilities
and the plethora of unfinished work that isn’t being done makes it worse. I get
sucked into this vortex of imaginary pressure. My solution: I just sit and have
an emotional breakdown. Whenever I spiral into one of these breakdowns, I reach
for one of either two things: apple juice
or a Blue and Mellow.
My addiction to
lemon-lime soda is a borderline
obsession. I order it in every restaurant. There is something strangely comforting
about the perfect balance of lemon and
lime flavors. It’s a fresh burst of flavor as the bubbles fizzle gently towards
the top of the glass. That moment is tantalizing. The particular soda I used
for this recipe came from the Homer Soda Company, a local business that sells
nostalgic bottled sodas. Lemon-lime soda is the other half to the Blue and Mellow. I came up with this
drink when I began food photography over
a year ago. It was late summer, and I was
crazing soda and blue Gatorade. Not just any flavor of blue Gatorade, the icy
blue colored ones in the tall bottles
you only can find at gas stations. That flavor is my favorite. Critics may claim
that it tastes the same as all the other
blue colored Gatorade, but they would be
completely incorrect. There is a defining
difference between the two. You can’t beat the sour tartness mixed with the sweeter
notes of honey and acai. When you pair it with
lemon-lime soda, perfection has been achieved.
This drink is
perfect for the upcoming summer months. It’s cool and refreshing. A touch of
lemon juice pulls the flavor profiles all together in a symphony of carbonated
joy. Even better, this drink is only three ingredients. I usually make the Blue and Mellow in one glass batches. I would suggest
even making it in a punch bowl and serve it at your next backyard BBQ or lazy
evening sitting on the front porch while watching the twilight sky saturate
into complete and surreal darkness.
__________________________________________________________
The Blue and Mellow
Ingredients
1
20oz bottle Cool Rush Gatorade
1
12oz bottle lemon like soda
1
teaspoon lemon juice
½ cup ice
Lemons and cherries to garnish
Directions
Pre-step:
Turn up the stereo and grab a box of tissues because today is a sick day.
Step One: In a mason jar or any 16oz jar, pour in 12oz of the lemon like soda. Pour
in the remaining 4oz of Gatorade. Add the lemon juice and top with ice. Serve
immediately.
