Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary

I haven't had a Bloody Mary since I was about 7. Partly because no one makes them as spicy as my dad, partly because I swore off vodka when I was 13 but mostly because I had simply forgotten about how good they are.

Bloody Marys were my mom's drink of choice when I was a kid. They would appear early on in the meal at special dinners-- at the Lobster Pot on our first night in Cape Cod every year, perching on the edge of the table among the appetizers on New Year's Eve or hanging out on the kitchen counter while my parents prepared Christmas Eve dinner. I'd clamor for the tall green stalk of celery soaking in the spicy brine and someone would usually pass it to me and replace it with another- I'm pretty sure there were times when entire packs of celery lived in a pitcher of the stuff in our fridge. Most kids ordered Shirley Temples; I ordered Virgin Marys, two stalks of celery, extra spicy.

I experimented with V8 and horseradish sauce a few times as a teenager, but something was always missing; occasionally I overcompensated by eating cocktail sauce piled high on lettuce leaves once everyone else had finished off the shrimp at family parties. When I learned to like shrimp at some point in college I started perfecting my own spicy dipping concoctions, never realizing that I was trying to fill the Bloody Mary void.

This afternoon Julie and I decided to chance taking The Little White Rabbit out for brunch at the Birdsall House. (We are currently limited to restaurants that serve pizza, pita and taziki sauce, pickles or pancakes). Birdsall offers a price fix- $19 for an appetizer, an entree and your choice of a mimosa, a beer or a Bloody Mary. After deciding on a cup of chili and some corned beef hash (what can I say, I'm Irish!) I was stuck on the drink. For some reason, I was leaning towards the Bloody Mary.

"Virgin?" Julie asked

"No.... I don't think so..."

It didn't take long for our drinks to arrive and Holy Mother of God, this was no ordinary Bloody Mary.

Cocktail glass? Check.
Tall stalk of celery? Check.
Deep red flecked with off-white? Check.

What first caught my attention was what I assumed to be a halved cherry tomato sitting next to the straw. I poked at it a bit with my straw and was surprised to see it burst apart into a number of tiny seeds and 5 or 6 round red discs. What the hell? I fished out one of the disks and bit into it; I still can't be sure, but I think it was pickled horseradish. By this time all of the tiny balls had sunk to the bottom of the glass, so I gave them a swirl and took a sip. My eyes watered, my nose burned, I took a deep breath and grinned. Mustard seeds! It was love at first sip.

In addition to the cherry tomato surprise, a cornichon (teeny tiny pickle) was floating alongside the straw. Knowing that my Little White Rabbit has no desire to eat celery, I offered the pickle to her and she devoured it while waiting for her pancakes.