Reunion Beach by Elin Hilderbrand (english novels for students .TXT) 📕

whisk together the mayonnaise, onion, vinegar, sugar, salt, pepper, and celery seed until well blended. Pour the dressing over the cabbage and stir until well coated and combined. Cover and refrigerate until needed.

When the pork is done, you can either pull it right away if it’s close to serving time, or leave it on the cooled grill or in a 170°F oven for up to 2 hours (wrap it in foil if it’s going to be sitting longer than that). About 30 minutes before serving, use two forks or your hands to pull the meat, discarding the bone and any big pieces of fat. Drizzle 1 to 2 cups barbecue sauce over the meat to keep it moist. Warm the remaining sauce in a small saucepan.

To serve, set out the pulled pork, warmed barbecue sauce, coleslaw, and buns, and let people assemble their own sandwiches.

Dorothea Benton Frank’s Favorite Cocktails: Peach Season

While you fire up the grill for that pork shoulder, why not toss on some fruit for a cocktail as well? Fresh peaches take on great depth of flavor when grilled—their sugars caramelizing, the fruit taking on a bit of char. All that flavor translates into a lively summer cocktail when shaken with vodka, lemon, and mint, with a bit of club soda to lighten it all up. The fruit’s natural sweetness and the bright burst of lemon are a perfect counterpart for rich, smoky pork.

½ peach, cut into three slices (plus additional for garnish) Vegetable or canola oil

1½ ounces vodka

¾ ounce fresh lemon juice

¾ ounce simple syrup

8 mint leaves

Club soda

Lightly brush peach slices with vegetable or canola oil (to prevent sticking). Over high heat on a grill or grill pan, cook until well-charred on one side, then flip and repeat, approximately 2 minutes per side. Remove from heat and let rest until cool enough to handle.

In the bottom of a cocktail shaker, muddle the grilled peach until fully broken up. Add ice and all remaining ingredients other than club soda and shake vigorously, at least 15 seconds. Double-strain into a rocks glass with fresh ice. Top with one ounce of club soda. Garnish with a peach slice and three large sprigs of mint. (Tap the mint firmly against your hand before adding to the drink.)

By Carey Jones and John D. McCarthy, authors of Be Your Own Bartender: A Sure-Fire Guide to Finding (and Making) the Perfect Drink for You, published November 2018; johnandcarey.com

Afterword

Understanding My Mom

William Frank

What can I say about my mom? At least what can I say that hasn’t already been said? Mom was beyond measure. She was more than just a mother to me; she was my best friend. She taught me so much, not just the standard things but stuff like how to draw, how to sew on a button, and how to cook a steak. I got a lot of mileage out of that last one. Rather, the most important thing she taught me was how to laugh. I’ll never figure out how she was able to make me crack up no matter how I was feeling. Mom turned humor into an art form and could wield it with surgical precision. I cannot stress enough how necessary this was to parent me. Every time I came home from school and told her about some drama that felt like the end of the world she would roll her eyes, give me a nudge, and make me laugh about how something virtually identical happened to her. This would pull me out of my head and back toward what mattered. Mom was at heart a teacher and a storyteller and perhaps the only way to convey what she meant to me is through stories of how she impacted me.

When I was six, I loved Transformers. Hasbro was in the process of reissuing some of their older stock and I wanted one called Silverbolt. Silverbolt was a robot that turned into a jet and could combine with four other robots into a bigger robot. It was all I wanted in the world ever since I saw it at FAO Schwarz. Furthermore, at the wise old age of six, I was becoming wary of Santa. I told Mom that I was testing to see if Santa was real. If I got Silverbolt then I would know for sure that he was real. This sent Mom on a mission. The only problem? Silverbolt wasn’t for sale. It was a display model only and would never be released in stores. But that wasn’t so much a problem for Mom as it was for Hasbro. First, she called FAO and they didn’t have it. Then she called FAO’s parent company until she finally got to Hasbro itself. The salesperson at Hasbro stated plainly that it was impossible to send one out as only a few were made. Mom’s response was that then they had to tell me that Santa and Christmas weren’t real. At that moment they suddenly found one for me and on Christmas there he was. I exploded. I had never been so happy in my life. I believed in Santa for way too long after that and I still have Silverbolt to this day.

Mom had a tenderness that was impossible to measure but she didn’t have a tolerance for, let’s call it nonsense. She suffered fools as well as ice cubes tolerated lava. She could always see right through me, which made it very hard to get away with anything. As a child I liked exactly three things: movies, comics, and action figures. Getting me to try anything new was akin to pulling teeth. When I had to try something new like football or soccer, I would usually respond with a halfhearted attempt. Followed by complaining that it was too hard, and it was like Sisyphus pushing a rock up the hill. Mom’s response was that’s nice, but the rock is going up the hill. I hate to admit it, but she was usually right. Mom