chasing Jupiter + a recipe for Rosé Spritz
Borrow binoculars from friend. Feed the cat and make a spritzer because it’s hot and because you have nowhere to be. Blitz some radish greens into a pesto and tell the world about it 'cause food fucking turns. you. on. Make note of the number of clouds in the sky and make note of the disappointment that maybe you're a day too late. Feel soft and safe in your home and put away the laundry and finish off those chicken adobo leftovers that are definitely questionable but you are on a mission to not waste any food. This feels like accomplishment.
Send the text
I don’t think I’m going to see Jupiter.
The sky is overcast and your bones know that a storm is pushing in and a weather app that is mostly inaccurate confirms this fact. Netflix and ice therapy because you can’t say no to gluten and the inflammation is burning a hole in your hip. Prepare for bed and glimpse that bright star through the window in the nook, completely unexpected, and try not to get too excited but what the hell you’ve been waiting for this all day.
Turn off the lights and grab the binoculars and hold your breath because you can’t stop shaking and adjust the lens until, there it is, there are the swirls and Jupiter is in focus. And even though you are tired and it’s past your bedtime, stay up an hour later to worship the planet that is at its closest to Earth and text the excitement and keep holding your breath because it’s the only way to see the storms.
- 2 oz. Campari
3 oz. dry sparkling rosé
Fill a rocks glass with ice. Add Campari, rosé, and lemon. Top up glass with lemon soda. Play bocce ball.
* recipe adapted from Bon Appétit