It’s that time of year when everyone seems to be in the south of France (I mean, what the hell do I need to do to be one of these people?!), gallivanting about in sundresses with a rosé IV stuck in their arm from yacht party to yacht party. (Disclaimer: I work in advertising and it happens to be the Cannes award festival this week…so that’s maybe why you don’t know someone jet-setting off to the French Riviera right now.)
When your Instagram and SnapChat feeds are full of images of rosé and beach shots from the French Riviera, there is nothing to do but get yourself to a similar locale as soon as possible. So, this past weekend when several of my coworkers were traipsing along the Mediterranean downing pretty pink wines, I returned to LBI for a weekend of bike building, yacht club cocktail hours, and as always, more grilling.
Last week a few pals and I went out to a Mexican restaurant and did what everyone does at a Mexican restaurant – drank entirely too many margaritas. It was fun while it was happening…not so much the next morning. So I did what every sensible person does to cure a common hangover; I had hair of the dog that bit me. And, no, I’m actually not talking about margaritas (although, that would have been a welcome addition). I made a nice, hearty, totally americanized version of a Mexican brunch!
A Pinch of This 