Kommst Borscht Sunrise

I am still drifting, my current residence Toronto Pearson Airport, soon to be NH Hotel du Grand Sablon, Brussels. In less than 48 hours (that is as accurate as I can be, not yet having sorted out the time change) I will be worshipping at the shrine of U2, screaming at Bono's pant legs if I'm lucky. I will not be singing / yelling along to "Breathe" as an opener this time; I hear they are debuting something new instead. "Moment of Surrender" has lasted as the finale, though, thank the Lord. It was written for me, I believe. Not just for me - I'm not completely delusional - but for me and for a bunch of other me's around the world, who needed it, I am convinced. It was written and recorded all in one take, supposedly; more delivered from heaven than written, really. Brian Eno confirms it.

I listened to The Clash's "London Calling" for the first time ever today - how could I have not had that experience to date? Sophisticated misfits. Beautiful dreamers.

I will not be making a cocktail, obviously, here at my table in the Wolfgang Puck Cafe overlooking the Starbucks' trash receptacle. I thought for this week I'd pass along Bruce Kliewer's recipes for "cocktails in honor of our Menno heritage" instead. Brilliant, all of them, I'm sure, though I have to admit I haven't yet had the opportunity to actually try any out. Please let me know if any among you (3) readers manage a test and have an opinion.

First off, "Kommst Borscht Sunrise": Fill a tall glass with lukewarm kommst borscht, add two ounces of amber tequila, then carefully pour two ounces of grenadine down the inside of the glass. Watch the "sun rise" as you enjoy this fine breakfast beverage, preferably while rocking in your chair on the front porch and watching the real sun rise over a field of tall ripening sunflowers.

No ripening sunflowers in my world, and I've never made kommst borscht, but perhaps one of these days...