In a restaurant, my mother would scoop her painted fingers into the glass and bring out a slightly grayed, fully marinaded section for me to eat (along with the Maraschino cherry).
At home, however, she just reused a slice. pushing it through the evening's three or four Old Fashioned's then pitching it.
Here I sit at noon with a navel orange sliced neatly into my Blue Willow bowl—so refreshing after lunch.
But it still tastes like whiskey.
