Pineapple Jam

I turned twenty-five years old yesterday. I have been on this earth for exactly a quarter of a century. In many ways, I am having a difficult time wrapping my mind around it. For the first time I feel, well, older. Perhaps, somehow, more grown up. I am wrapping up my final semester of graduate school, focusing on coursework much more than the social life I prized during university. Soon, however, the shoe will move to the other foot. I have been offered a job teaching high school science this fall and will very soon have lessons to plan, homework to correct, and students of my own to tend.

The times they are a-changin'.

I feel very much an adult, as if the child within me has headed off to summer camp and I've been left behind, waving her goodbye. I go to bed at a reasonable hour each evening, balking at the idea of staying up beyond one in the morning for any reason whatsoever. My refrigerator is full of fruits and vegetables; I optimistically pack a healthy lunch each morning so I'll be forced to eat it when hunger kicks in (this trick, by the way, works wonders). My work ethic is an employer's dream, but I find myself working so frequently that I rarely let loose, leave the house, and do something fun. It's easy to get caught up in responsibilities and forget there is anything outside of them.

Perhaps, you could say, I'm learning how to become an adult, learning to take on new obligations, but not allow them to slowly take over the other pieces of my life. Trying to find a sense of balance in a world that is leaning too far in one direction. Growing up is hard.

I think we should all be allowed a moment to say goodbye to the age we are leaving behind, a moment to grieve, a moment to celebrate, a moment to embrace the future, a moment to call our own and for which no one can judge us. Turning twenty five caught up with me last weekend. I realized, for the first time, that any sense of childhood was officially behind me. I filled up a glass of red wine, and then filled it up again, lamenting my burgeoning spider veins and faint laugh lines to my boyfriend. I walked out on the third story balcony to the apartment, bemoaning my impending old age as the lights in the courtyard made slow circles through air.

As if to show my despair at leaving childhood behind, I threw baby carrots at a neighborhood rabbit who was scampering through the grass below simply because an adult would never do that (the rabbit, I might add, did not seem to appreciate the free dinner). I gave up when I ran out of carrots, collapsing on the couch in front of an episode of Game of Thrones. I had my moment then, a little messy, a little unrefined, and then it passed as if it had never arrived.

The birthday has come and gone since then. The gifts have been unwrapped, the wishes wished, the candles blown out, and the peace made with growing older. Twenty five no longer feels so old anymore and I feel ready and even a little excited to embrace a new number. Thirty? Now that's old. :)

Pineapple Jam has a unique flavor, both sweet and acidic, and complements a toasted English muffin well. Fresh, ripe pineapple is blended into small pieces and cooked down on the stove until it thickens and slightly caramelizes. The addition of vanilla adds a bright tone while a touch of molasses adds a greater depth of flavor. The jam can be finished with a bit of lime zest for a bold twist, but it isn't necessary to create a rounded flavor.

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Sparkling Pineapple Rum Cocktail

I used to be the girl who preferred the shadows. I drew comfort from the anonymity, from the lack of attention, from the invisibility cloak I chose to wear around my shoulders. I shied away from conversations, preferring to observe rather than participate. While I often wished I could be the boisterous and reactive one in the room, it was enough for me to simply watch them. As an observer in the shadows, I learned of the nature of those around me. I pinpointed those who filled the lulls in conversation, afraid of the silence, afraid to be left with the sound of their thoughts. I identified with those who were quiet just as myself, knowing their minds were buzzing with unsaid thoughts and opinions.

Then one day I stepped out into the light.

It is hard to say when or why it happened. I certainly did not anticipate it coming. While debating dinner plans with friends, I noticed a quiet girl nearby listening, wearing the cloak of shadows I knew so well. I had seen her before, here and there, as we went about our days. This time, however, I felt an unfamiliar pull to talk to her, to invite her to join our dinner plans. And so I did. And so did she. I may never be the boisterous one in the room, but I am no longer afraid to expand my comfort zone to include new people and situations.

While I still retreat to the shadows now and then, I find the light brings a certain warmth.

In some ways, this cocktail reminds me of an unnoticed person, hiding in the shadows. It is not flashy or showy. It does not sparkle in the light like a glass of white wine or feature hundreds of fizzing bubbles like a flute of champagne. It does not have layers like a rainbow or feature bright, bold colors. It is a simple drink. A subtle drink. Pale yellow and opaque, it may not seem like much to the unaided eye.

To give it a hard look, to take a sip, opens your eyes to something you may not have considered before. You may even find it beautiful.

Sparkling Pineapple Rum Cocktail is a balanced, fizzy cocktail. Pineapple juice and ginger ale come together, effortlessly mixing together the sweetness of the soda and the tartness of the juice. With a shot (or two) of dark rum thrown in the mix, the cocktail can hold its ground. When I had my first sip, I was pleasantly surprised. The bright flavor drew me in and it truly felt like something special.

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Mai Tai & Hawaii

It's always strange coming home after a long vacation. It's the simple things that throw me off guard, making me aware of just how long I've been gone. Opening the door to the house and recognizing the scent of my home, a smell so familiar to me that I fail to notice it in my day to day happenings. It's in the act of opening the refrigerator, with no faint reminder of what lies within.

The mundane and ordinary life of mine becomes surreal to my jet-lagged mind. For a moment, I feel like I don't belong in my home. Not yet. Not while my heart is still across the sea, not ready to give up the holiday and return to reality.

I spent the last week and half in Hawaii, vacationing on Oahu's north shore. There was sand and sun, water and waves, and a tropical breeze that refused to relent as it whirled my hair around my face. It was a vacation I didn't know I needed until I waded into the cool waters of the Pacific. There were historic towns, long drives up and down the length of the island, and endless miles of beach.

My boyfriend's family invited me to come with them to his sister's destination wedding and I simply couldn't refuse.

The wedding was gorgeous. Tropical flowers, bright and blooming, and loose white linens blowing in the wind lined the arch under which the bride and groom stood. The wedding overlooked the ocean and the waves crashing over rocks became the backdrop for the scene unfolding. There were leis, tears, tender smiles, and blissful expressions that couldn't be removed from the bride and groom's faces.

I couldn't help but grab a photograph of the wedding cake. I also couldn't stop myself from eating two pieces.

I climbed a few hills, overlooking the city of Honolulu and the wide never-ending ocean. I wandered the touristy beach of Waikiki, walking hundreds of feet out into the shallow waters, trying to jump over the waves before they swept me back to shore. I went on a shark tour and was carried a few miles out to sea to jump into a shark cage, Discovery Channel style.

Never one to shy from risk and adventure, I climbed into the cage and found the metal bars were the only barrier between me and half a dozen full-grown Galapagos sharks. One came near enough to touch, as it swam only a foot beneath the cage. Did you know Galapagos sharks have brilliant yellow cat eyes? Neither did I.

I also tried my hand at surfing one particularly windy morning. Though I had never been near a surfboard before, standing up was easier than I ever expected. I caught my first wave, feeling the swell of the ocean beneath me, and held onto it as long as I dared. It was paddling back out to sea that was the hardest; more than once the surfing instructor took pity and carried me and my surfboard out when he swam back out to sea.

After swallowing a mouthful of water fighting against the waves and crashing into sharp rocks beneath the surface after falling off my board, I had enough. For those of you who surf, you have my utmost respect. It's hard.

As the sun set on the Hawaiian beaches, my thoughts always went to the food. The fish was so fresh, the pineapple so juicy, the shrimp so spicy, the shaved ice so refreshing, that it was devoured before a second thought could be given to my camera. On vacations, I think that's the way it should be. Living in the present, reveling in the small moments of the sand between your toes, the scent of the salty sea, and the feel of a cold cocktail in your hand.

There are many more stories to tell, of wild adventures and vacation mishaps, but I'll let those tales rest for now. I'll bring them out on a rainy day, when I can only dream of taking tropical vacations and leaving reality for just a moment to swim with the sea turtles.

There is quite a bit of controversy surrounding what defines an "authentic" Mai Tai, most of it revolving around orgeat syrup and the presence of fruit juices. I'll start by saying that this particular Mai Tai is nowhere near authentic, but it is reminiscent of the ones I had in Hawaii, lying under beach umbrellas and listening to the roar of the sea (and, most importantly, it can be made with ingredients lying around the house). Light and dark rum booze up pineapple and lime juice, with a hint of orange liquor to round out the sweetness.

If you find it too strong (and you may), add more pineapple juice until it suits your taste.

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