I Believe in Bloody Mary

Feeling hung over?  Yes? No? Maybe for the next four years? Well, my dad believed that a good Bloody Mary prettbloody-maryy much cures what ails you, and if not cures, then you care a whole lot less about almost anything.

The Bloody Mary tradition started with my dad Christmas mornings. As a child, I never understood or noticed this because there were cookies and milk and PRESENTS.  (My family was a bit pagan, and Jesus was a kind of a side note to our season, ergo, Bloody Mary Christmas traditions.) I remember watching dad put together my Barbie RV. There were like a million parts and stickers, and it took hours and hours. A fine cloud of expletives filled the holiday air and of a tumbler filled with “tomato juice” was my dad’s constant companion.

Once we were older, dad came bearing cards and his famous Bloody Mary concoction which we were quite grateful to have.  My dad’s recipe was pretty simple: Tomato juice, olive juice, beef bouillon, hot sauce, onion powder, horseradish, and salt. I don’t know his secret to the mixture, but somehow it came out delicious.

This is definitely not Christmas morning, well, maybe for some. But perhaps a strong Bloody Mary is needed to, regroup say. The best Bloody Mary starts with the vodka. Heavens, the irony of vodka and this election. But nevertheless, pick your best poison. My husband and I like to create not only a strong drink, but a little salad that rests in the glass: olives, celery, pickles, small tomatoes, and more olives.

I know there are a lot of recipes out there which are far more intricate as Ina Garten’s but there are some that are just as simple as my dad’s classic recipe.

I am not very good at wrapping up, so a if you don’t believe in Bloody Mary, then here are other post elections drinks available: Cheers!

 

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