Reflections on mixology and fiction

Starting a novel is a bit like edging out to the end of a high quarry on a hot summer's day, contemplating the 20-foot drop.  You're not quite sure how deep the water is. Or what happens if you don't get that slight push off the edge to miss the rocks that are staring up at you, just beneath your toes. 

Still, we take the plunge.

New York has been a steam bath of late. The asphalt is sludge under your feet. The humidity could soak a bale of hay and submerging into the subway is like crawling into a pizza oven. I got home to my block in Brooklyn last night drenched, the sweat literally pouring from my forehead. My mind went straight to...a refreshing cocktail!

I have never made a drink from a grapefruit. I have never made a drink with a raw egg. I am not sure what made me think of it, but I decided to try something completely different. A ruby red grapefruit fizz. The ingredients are simple. Exactly what is pictured above.  Add ice. Shake vigorously. See what turns out. Sort of like starting a novel.