"When I make the lemonade again, I'm going to add some club soda and possibly a little vodka."
After last Monday's riveting cherry adventure, I decided blending produce with lemonade should usurp crying about the Mets as my primary hobby. It's tastier, cheaper, and most definitely healthier. (Confidential note to the Queens faithful: You know it's bad when you catch yourself thinking, "Man, I miss Armando Benitez.")
I'd only read about basil lemonade before last week and decided it sounded better as a sauce for chicken than as a drink. But that was before I accidentally bought two extra lemons and 18 metric tons of basil. Part of the herbs went toward basil fried rice, and another part toward stuffed eggplant. Still, there was a good cup-and-a-half left over, and I wasn't in the mood for pesto.
Enter the aforementioned lemonade. (The basil one? Top of the second paragraph? Right.) It might only use two basil leaves, but that's two less I have to worry about rotting.
Admittedly, the taste was kind of strange at first. The flavor is very subtle and I'm not accustomed to herbed drinks. After two or three sips, though, I really started to like it. All three major components--lemon, basil, agave nectar--meld quite nicely, with none competing for dominance over the others. Plus, it's refreshing as all get out. So that's fun.
When I make the lemonade again, I'm going to add some club soda and possibly a little vodka. Then, when I'm feeling good and toasted, I might flip the Mets game on. These days, it's really the only way to watch 'em.
- 2 lemons, juiced
- 2 basil leaves, washed
- 2 pints ice cold water
- Agave nectar, to taste
- 6 ice cubes
Blend the lemon juice and basil leaves together until completely pulverized.
Add ice cold water and ice cubes.
Blend until ice is completely crushed.
Add agave nectar (or sweetener of your choice) to taste.