Slingin’ the Euros and Hash
Vell, vell, vell. It seems that all the Almiralls are ‘officially’ on holiday. Janey, Annabelle, & Juan ventured over to Massachusetts, Gnatalie finally dropped his day job for moonlighting as a Speed-a-way undercover cop, and yours truly is visiting Michigan this month. Originally, I had anticipated a three day drive from OR to MI, but ended up driving straight through with the exception of ‘resting’ for three hours at a rest stop in Montana. Taking the Northern route was ideal, as I was kept entertained (not awake, but entertained) by amusing road names. Bad Route Rd., Oink Joint Rd., and Nimrod 19 were among the fortunatez to make the Frothy boards. My largest reward was during the last leg of the trip in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Da UP is tops in my book and about three-thirty in the morning I was treated to a meteor shower AND the Northern Lights. Say ya to da UP, eh?!
Now, I’m over to Northern Michigan recording highlights of my holiday thus far. Buckle up, kiddies, boss times ahead.
One of my best chums, Erica, married a Brit. (I know, ‘A horse walks into a bar’, right?) I like the Brit for a number of reasons; a few choice ones being his Brother & Sister. The Brits are a blast to have around always, but they are even more so when the alkey-halls are introduced into our gatherings. Show me a new and glamourous way to drink booze and I’m down.
Understanding that, I’ve got three words for you: Sambuca and fire.
I believe the first time I met Brother Mark he was running around like a crazed British chicken, fueled by an impressive amount of Budweiser. As I recall, I had known Marky for about thirty-seven minutes before he unearthed the question, ‘Would you like to do a shot of Sambuca…the British way?’ Now, being the type of Girl I am, I’ll pretty much do anything ‘the British way’, so my response was a guaranteed positive.
For those who haven’t ventured into the British bat cave of Sambuca Slingers, lemme ‘splain. You will need one glass in which the circumference can fit underneath your palm. Pouring about two (or six) ounces of Sambuca into said glass, tip the glass to rim the edges with alkey-hall. Light the rim with fire, let the flame catch, and quickly place your palm over the top of the glass. (Be warned, there will be suckage as you’ve just cut off the fire’s oxygen supply.) Next, lift your hand from the rim while inhaling the sweet aroma and, finally, drink up.
Sound kinda terrifying? Yeah, it sorta is until you get the hang of it. However, I don’t recommend getting the hang of it three times within fifteen minutes. I also don’t endorse driving/walking/bicycling/breathing for at least a day after the Sambuca injection.
Nevertheless, this was my first introduction to the Brits and their fine olde tradition. Nevertheless-less, this was also my evening last Wednesday. Couple Sambuca Slingers with the Brits’ going away party and you have one epic extravaganzor.
What comes after a hard night of Slingers? Well, if you live how I live a proper going away party is followed up by egging on other best chum Erin to cook. Erin’s a top notch chef and, at sixteen, we shared a habitual adventure of breaking and entering our neighboring camp’s Dining Hall for omelette ingredients. (My theory/defense on this is that I used to work at said Hall and I was shafted on some tips years ago. So, Erin and I have spent the last thirteen years trying to collect via foodstuffs.)
I’ll say this; it’s pleasing to know my relationships with my best friends haven’t altered much from sixteen to thirty-two. Praise be to Higgins.
Normally, breaking into the Pinewoods Dining Hall would entail me climbing up and through a window above an industry dishwasher. (Let’s just say that being flexible aids greatly in this area.) However, we bandits were thrown a bone when we discovered an unlocked door and just moseyed on into the goody cavern.
Being very early in the morning, Erin had the good sense to recommend we leave the lights off and make with our goods by way of light from an open micro-wave. Brilliantly played. So, we loaded up our stuffings, procured an extra onion for Erin’s own kitchen, and hijacked two very good chocolate chip cookies. As you can read, I was off the Macrobiotic diet for the evening/morning.
Clearly, at least in my humbling opinion, my Michigan chums are awesome and I can count on many adventures Frothy style. Now, imagine what damage my Portland pals and I could to that city. I look forward, my friends, I always look forward.