Today's 5:00 Fridays post is lovingly dedicated to Mac Daddy, my husband of nine years. Well, tomorrow will be nine years. We got married in Key West. It was kind of on a whim.
You see, we had been living together, taking turns going to graduate school. We had just turned 30. Being a woman whose eggs were 30 years old at the time, we started doing the math. Well, Mac Daddy did the math as I am the only Indian in the world who is bad at math. Anyway, we figured that we wanted to be married a while before having kids. Considering we weren't even engaged at the time, we thought that it made sense to get married while Mac Daddy was in graduate school. That was just in conversation mode though, not planning stage.
Well we awoke one morning and, Mac Daddy having had the epiphany sometime in the middle of the night, jolted out of bed. He exclaimed, "Let's get married in Key West!" I rolled over and laughed. Hardy har har har. Mac Daddy promptly logged on (dial up, mind you) and printed out a wedding planner's contact information in Key West. And so our engagement was official.
We had already planned our annual Key West vacay with our dear friends Chris and Shan. And so we called them up. I believe Mac Daddy's words were, "Um, do you guys mind if we get married while on vacation?" And so Chris and Shan were our best man and matron of honor.
Six week countdown to our wedding, and I didn't even have a dress. In typical Mac Daddy fashion, he got married in a black suit. His logic was that if a simple black suit was good enough for JFK Jr., it was good enough for him. Do you now understand the many reasons I love this guy?
We had a fantastic ceremony in the gardens of the Audubon House. We wrote our own vows. We all sobbed. Chris wiped streams of sweat from his brow, but I still contend that some of that runoff was comprised of tears. We had our ritual sunset margaritas at Mallory Square before heading to dinner at Louie's Backyard. In fact, our wedding night menu is signed by the chef and framed in our kitchen right now.
If you haven't been to Key West, you should know that the margarita is the signature cocktail. Consumption is appropriate at all times of day. On the rocks, with salt. The frozen crap is for sorority girl prisspots who come get wasted under age and flash their boobs to the dozens of gay men who don't give a hoot for hooters. Our favorite margarita joint is Willie T's. One night after a few of those libations, Chris took the mike and sang Sinatra to the spring break denizens, girls in short shorts and tube tops swooning. Good times.
And so today, I toast my husband, the amazingly patient, kind, funny, optimistic, supportive, brainiac Mac Daddy. And I toast him not with champagne, but with a Key West margarita.
Margarita (makes a pitcher)
2 cups sweet and sour mix
1 cup triple sec
1 1/2 cups Jose Cuervo
1/3 cup Grand Marnier
splash of Sprite (just a splash!)
2 limes, quartered
Salt the rims of 8 margarita glasses. Never salted a rim? Just pour coarse sea salt onto a small plate, rub the rims of the glasses with lime, and press them into the salt. Fill the glasses with ice. In a blender, combine sweet and sour mix, triple sec, tequila and Grand Marnier. Blend until mixed thoroughly. Pour into glasses, squeeze a quarter lime into each glass, and serve.
Now you know how I feel about garnish. Today's drink has a special garnish created by my dear friend Shan, who is a kicky designer and overall creative spirit. She made a Conch Republic flag that could be yours for free. Just click here on her Freebie Fridays post to download the flags, print them on labels, wrap 'em around a toothpick, and voila! You'll be chilling with your feet up on the docks of Mallory Square too.
Cheers to nine years and counting! I love you, Mac Daddy.
Addendum: If you really want to party like a mom star, check this out on May 5. Nothing says Cinco de Mayo like a cold margarita! Oh, chips and guac are a requisite munchie at my table.