Getting on a jet plane tomorrow to spend the weekend in the D.C. area. Then it's onto I-95 to NYC with my sister and the kids to meet my dad and grandpa, plus more mishpucha time in Jersey to celebrate Passover with the extended fam.
Not that I expect y'all to pay much attention, but posts of late have been fairly light on the booze talk. See, these days I longingly stare into the wine fridge thinking about the bottles we haven't yet gotten to. Reading restaurant wine lists is a purely intellectual exercise, and I fervently smell cocktails. Seder will be a strictly grape juice affair por moi. This is what happens when you have a biscuit in the oven (due in October) and along with it, a hearty appetite and restricted food choices.
Add alcohol to the list of verboten foods Americans are so friggin' neurotic about, along with sushi, raw milk cheeses, and regular coffee. (That being said, Cold Turkey really does work.) Driving is more dangerous than any of the above items, but it's all about your individual comfort level with risk.
I still add a small spoonful of espresso into my steamed milk to get the day started. You gotta live a little, right?