Heirloom Tomato Bloody Mary

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Like I said yesterday, I could not resist the stunners that were these yellow heirloom tomatoes at The Green City Market and thus, they became a Bloody Mary too. What can I say? When Williams-Sonoma asks what unique spin you can put on a Bloody Mary, you go for it. And going for it is always a good move, in life and in cocktails. The proof is in the glass in this case.

yellow tomatoes

yellow juicer

yellow juice

First thing’s first: juice these bad boys. I felt like the yellow tomatoes were special in their own right so I kept the recipe pretty traditional on this Bloody Mary with one exception: Old Bay. I have always loved Old Bay but my husband grew up in Chesapeake Bay country and is deeply devoted to this combination of spices. We put containers of Old Bay in our wedding gift bags and I keep small packets of it in a majority of my purses because God forbid we’re out for brunch and a restaurant doesn’t have it for his Bloody Mary.


As a result, I absolutely had to include it in this recipe and I am so glad I did- it adds so much more flavor than celery salt does. To get mixing, I added 2 tablespoons lemon juice, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce to taste, a Tablespoon of salt, pepper and at least that of Old Bay. I finished it off with Sriracha because I like a little heat at the end of each sip. As always, add, taste and repeat until the flavor is where you want it!


I kept the garnish simple with a single piece of bacon but it was sort of special bacon. I tossed the bacon (turkey, in this case) in a ziploc with dijon mustard, brown sugar and a little bit of maple syrup. Once evenly coated, I put them in the oven at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. The brown sugar mixture caramelized and I had a stick of sweet bacon to pop in the drink instead it being curled up the way it ends up when you cook it in a pan. I also think a skewer with shrimp, maybe wrapped in bacon or prosciutto, would be great with this Bloody Mary and the seafood would play off the Old Bay well. Ooohh, maybe top the Bloody Mary with fresh crab.

Almost as great as the fact that Bloody Mary’s can be made from entirely fresh ingredients? That the weekend is upon us and it’s time for brunch. I’ll have a Bloody Mary, please…

Marathon Sunday

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Marathon Sunday. Nothing makes me want to be great more than watching cheering on runners who have spent months preparing for this morning, this run and freaking doing it. It’s just a beautiful and inspiring reminder that pretty much anything is available to us if we decide we want it and do what it takes to get there.

Related: while I had a blast dancing and cheering my heart out this morning, I had serious “I wish I was running!” envy. I had a great experience on 10-10-10 so maybe another Chicago marathon is the best way to close out my 20s next year…

Congratulations, runners! You rocked every one of those 26.2 miles and now you’re marathoners! High fives and ice baths, all around!


The Invitation

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It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

– Oriah Mountain Dreamer