Please Welcome Sweets & Bitters Intern Caroline Lange for her first Blog Post on Sweets & Bitters.
There are some songs that I can only listen to at certain times of the year — and only then, because they’re so distinctly and inextricably linked to those times of year. I first heard “Someday” by The Strokes towards the end of my senior year of high school, and now it’s forever an end-of-April song, and I only ever want to listen to it when I’m driving around my hometown with my car’s window’s open. Feist’s whole last album, Metals, makes me think of the fall of my freshman year of college, when everything was new and exciting and a little scary — so I can only listen to it in the fall (and also sometimes when everything feels new and exciting and a little scary). It’s like couples that have “their song,” the song that always makes them think of each other and that they can barely listen to alone. I have that with the seasons.
There are of course, a few exceptions. The Beatles, for example, and the Amélie soundtrack. And limeade.
Limeade I want when it’s hot out and when it’s cold, rain and shine, sickness and health. And conveniently, there are always limes available, even at corner bodegas. So whether you have 32 limes hanging around (we did, here in the Sweets & Bitters test kitchen) or two you found in the bottom of your refrigerator’s vegetable drawer, you, too, can have limeade. It’s always in season and always a hit.
- Caroline Lange, intern at Sweets & Bitters
- 1 part freshly squeezed lime juice
- 1 part simple syrup (or other cocktail syrup)
- 2 parts water
Combine all ingredients in a pitcher and serve over ice.