This one came about as a result of a groin injury. I've never had a groin injury before - lucky, really, what with the rock climbing and the rugby and the surfing and the running. It took me a couple of hours of "what the hell is this new pain?" to realize what it was. I don't even know how I got it - my guess would be from surfing the day before. The sad part was that I didn't even surf, not technically - I took Beth out, and sat on my board, giving her some coaching while she tried to catch some waves. (It was mixed up, with a pretty nasty south-to-north longshore current that made paddling a bitch; impossible for even a good surfer to do much.) My first groin injury came at 40 years of age. That's something, I suppose.
I hobbled around for most of the day and once the kids were asleep, decided that we needed to finish off the day with a couple of cocktails. In one of those happy confluences of events, Beth had picked up a container of lychees from Trader Joe's. Lychees are one of those weird foods that you'd never think of buying...unless you were entertaining the possibility of making lychee Martinis.
37. Make Lychee Martinis
This is a lychee:
Like I said, lychees are weird. Unpeeled, they look like something that a lowland gorilla might eat. Peeled, they look like something that Bear Grylls might eat. They taste like the bastard lovechild of a menage a trois between a grape, a banana, and a coconut. They are from China - the China of myth, British traders seeking the mysterious lychee-nut from the deep forests that grow only on the slopes of the dark mountains of Cathay, that sort of thing.
The first and only time I've ever had a lychee martini: an evening with friends at Jack's in La Jolla. Beth and I dropped $300 (for the two of us) on dinner and drinks that night, and it was easily the best meal I've ever had. At the bar, there was a giant vat of lychee Martini - whole unpeeled lychees suspended in a milky boozy fluid. It looked like a North Korean black market eyeball vendor's stash. Of course I had to have one - it looked both beautiful and repulsive, and I'm drawn to weird food and drink. I think I had a couple. There was also Johnny Walker Blue involved, so the details remain sketchy. I don't remember everything we ate that night, but those lychee Martinis stayed with me.
Making a lychee Martini is a pretty straightforward process. Peel and pit the lychees, throw 'em in a blender with some simple syrup and a bit of lemon juice, puree, strain, pour into a shaker over ice, add a few shots of vodka and a splash of Triple Sec, shake, pour into chilled martini glass, serve while watching Top Chef Masters.
As I move further along the 40/40 path, it occurs to me that a lot of things on the List are relatively basic, simple, sometimes head-scratchingly so - anyone can make a lychee Martini. Some of the stuff I'll be attempting, without giving anything away, will be true challenges, the sort of trials I used to put myself through when I was younger, possessed of more vim and vigor. But that's not the point, really. Anyone can make a lychee Martini. But not a whole lot of people will. I did.
(And they were excellent.)
