Around this time of year, when the snow shrinks into pockets of soil-infused ice piles and constant, quiet ropes of water thread through the gutters, I am suddenly faced with an optimistic realization: though it’s muddy and sloppy, spring is coming.
Winter here is long and the days are short. Though sometimes overwhelming, the indescribable innocence and beauty of a fresh night snowfall is sure to keep your head up and your feet moving. Now that daylight saving time has passed, I’m starting to get excited for the upcoming summer.
A change in season, in my opinion, calls for some good transitional music, and a little something to drink. The White Russian is thick and comforting enough to warm you in the winter, but cool and refreshing enough to be an early spring favorite. I’ve also served them warm before, so if you’re up North and still cozied inside blankets by the fireplace, I suggest heating the ingredients gently over the stove.
To continue with this theme of seasonal passage , I provide you with a fitting album.
I’d describe this album to be an intimate mix of folk and alternative. The album is shared by two voices, a man and a woman’s, which weave together the edgy romance of their words and instruments. I’ve enjoyed this album in many settings—a late night winter drive, a bright afternoon in the park, cooking slowly in the kitchen—and it works with everything. It’s easy on the ears, and puts a restful smile on your face.
Listen to “Love Comes to Me”
Listen to “Cursed Sleep”
Listen to “Then the Letting Go”
~ ~ ~
1/2 to 1 oz. chilled vodka
1.5 oz. Kahlua
3/4 cup whole milk
1/8 tsp. ground nutmeg
Into a tumbler, drop 2 large ice cubes. Add vodka, according to your preference (I used 1 oz. and I found the vodka flavor quite strong, so I tightened it to 1/2 oz.) Add the Kahlua, then stir gently, so as not to foam the mixture. Sprinkle the nutmeg on top, serve.