Raspberry Limeade Slushies

I have decided not to leave. Yesterday, I was eating a drippy peach we’d bought from one of those roadside stands that have baskets of homegrown stuff and instruct you to leave your money in a little container (you know, just like in Manhattan!) over the sink and two tiny deer and a bunny appeared in the woodsy area next to our house and seriously, I cannot believe that people own these places and willingly rent them to strangers. Where else could they possibly want to stay?

Here, there are small beaches where you are frequently the only person on them. Seagulls caw and while I’m sure they’re saying, “Over here! There’s a chubby baby boy napping and he looks very tasty!” I like them anyway. There are enough wineries that if you tried to hit two a day for a week, you wouldn’t get to all of them (but you should try, anyway) and every farm stand brags about their blackberries. There’s an old-fashioned chocolate shop with an actual old-fashioned looking guy in the next room, making your daily dose of dark chocolate turtles. We’ve passed something called a Farm Preschool which I’ve decided I’ll attend instead of the baby because why should he have all the fun? I’m reading a book I was sure I’d find unendurable and actually liking it (though likely because I’m still on the part about the eatin’). And there are 7-11’s all over this town.

If I have accidentally given off the impression that I was cool growing up, let me set it straight right here: my idea of a good time was going to 7-11 with my friends and getting Slurpees. Sometimes we’d take them out to the beach and play Skee-Ball on the boardwalk, exchanging a wad of winning tickets for useless junk that we’d find in the back of a car years later, sometimes we’d idle in the parking lot until the owners frowned at us, but always, there were Slurpees. I only drank mine in cherry, because that’s what Veronica did in Heathers, but I’d settle for any flavor that came in that neon red color that made me look like a little kid that had gotten into her mother’s lipstick again.

I never once thought about recreating my own at home until we were cleaning out the fridge (or trying to) on the Friday before we left and I saw that I had a half-pint of raspberries and a cup of freshly-squeezed lime juice that’d I’d been saving… for that day, clearly. I’m pretty sure people have been trying to sell me on the raspberry-lime combination for years but I’d never actually crashed them into each other until that day in my blender and hot damn people, that was a huge mistake. I cannot get over how made for each other these two flavors are, blended with sugar, ice and well, honestly, a little too much water. I was kind of making it up as a I went along and didn’t exactly achieve perfectly emulsified Slurpeedom but we could not care. It has been well over a decade since anything both frozen and fizzy tasted that good.

* For those of you in woeful 7-11 free places, Slurpees are a no doubt horrid HFCS-laden concoction of super-sweet brightly-colored soda and slushy ice that came forth from knobs so powerfully that only regulars knew how to get that all in your overly-large plastic domed cup. I’ve got mad skills, is what I’m trying to say here.

Raspberry Limeade Slushies

Serves 4, generously

1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

1 cup raspberries

1 cup water

4 cups ice

2/3 cup sugar

1 cup soda water

Lime wedges, for serving

4 chilled glasses, if you’re feeling fancy (or are interested in your slushie staying slushy longer)

In a blender, blend the lime juice, raspberries, water, ice and sugar until slushy. Pour into glasses. Top off with about 1/4 cup soda water and garnish with a lime wedge. Drink quickly enough to get a brain freeze.

If you’re averse to raspberry seeds (I generally am, but was feeling rushed that day), you can puree the berries first, press them through a fine-mesh strainer to remove the seeds, then put them back in the blender and add the rest of the ingredients. I will note that the seeds were far less annoying than I’d expected them to be, likely because they’re less noticeable with the added texture from the ice.

Also: I probably don’t need to tell you how good this would be with booze.

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