Over the years, the significance of Mother’s Day, to me, has changed. As a kid, Mother’s Day meant handmade cards and goofy crafts. As a teenager, it meant being reminded by Dad to not be jerk, just for a day. As a 20-something, it meant a phone call from across the country to say, “I love you.” But to me today, as a 31-year-old adult, it means friendship.
How did it take 31 years to get here? I guess it’s because I was busy building a life. The angsty too-cool teenager years. College, blurry but breathtaking, attempting to figure out who I thought I wanted to be. A near decade across the country, still searching for “me”. Embarking on a career. Forming friendships. Falling in love. The million messes and successes in between.
After all that, my mom was here waiting for me, waiting to start the next chapter of our relationship. That’s the great thing about moms: Patience. They sit quietly on the sidelines, cheering along the way, until you slide back into home. Take your time, I’ll be here, I’ve felt her silence say to me so many times.
And finally we are here—no longer just mother and daughter, but friends. A friendship that means time spent together not because you have to but because you want to. It means honest conversations about difficult topics. It means less motherly advice (though there will always be some of that), and more I’m here to listen.
I imagine most mothers look forward to the point in the relationship when the switch is finally made from parent to friend. When she can finally just be her, instead of mom.
Though this friendship has really only started to take shape over the last few years, I love seeing glimpses of her that I couldn’t see in mom. She’s funny, so sassy. She’s incredibly smart, more than she or anyone else gives her credit for. She’s confident in her character, never wavering in who she is. She’s strong, kind, and full of a joy and wonder that you don’t encounter many times in your life. She is, simply, her.
So, Mom: Thanks for waiting out the last 30 years, and for being a great friend to me now. I hope I can be one to you, too.
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In honor of my mom, I had to create one of her favorite drinks! My mom love-love-loves a sidecar. Traditionally made with brandy, lemon juice, orange liqueur and simple syrup, it’s a classic. But of course, I had to put a little twist on it!
I didn’t have and brandy on hand, but I did have Pisco, which is a type of brandy—even though doing a little reading made it clear they are certainly not one in the same. Still, onward I went!
I’ve been noticing the use of demerara syrup in a lot of cocktails lately—a brown sugar that has a toffee quality to it—so I subbed that in instead of simple syrup. The result, I think, is fantastic. It has a little extra bite from the pisco, and a subtle caramel essence from the demerara syrup—while still clearly retaining a traditional sidecar flavor profile.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of the wonderful moms out there—including so many of my friends with little ones!—and especially to my mom. I love you.
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Pisco Sidecar
- 1.5 oz pisco – I used Barsol Pisco
- 1 oz Cointreau
- 1 oz fresh lemon juice
- .5 oz demerara syrup; recipe follows
Assembly
Rim a coupe or martini glass with lemon juice, then demerara sugar. Add all ingredients to a shaker with ice. Shake until very cold, about 20 seconds. Strain into the demerara sugar-rimmed glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Demerara Syrup
You can find demerara sugar at most gourmet markets; Whole Foods should have it too.
In a small saucepan, combine ½ c. demerara sugar with ¼ c. water. Stir over medium-low heat until sugar is completely dissolved. Store in an airtight container in the fridge. Should keep for about 10 days. Makes about ½ cup.
Barware notes: Coupe glass and small pitcher were both thrifted. I scored the vintage shaker at one of my favorite local antique shops, Lost & Found. Napkin is from Anthropologie.