Sorry I didn't post a story on Sunday. I just couldn't come up with an idea I liked and I am tired of posting stories that I don't really like. I will still try and write a story every week, but I won't guarantee it, especially these next few weeks.
Yesterday I went to a department potluck. I was feeling slightly ill because one of my coworkers had been cooking brats all day. His cooking secret, beer. I don't drink and haven't been around alcohol very much, but I could smell the beer. Everyone could smell it. And it was making me sick to my stomach though the majority of my other coworkers couldn't get enough of it.
I was looking forward to the potluck. One of my coworkers made wassail. I love wassail and I don't get it too often, unless I buy the Stephen's Citrus and Spice. Homemade wassail is wonderful. I would say 90% of the people who came to the potluck had no idea what it was. The few of us who did know were explaining it to everyone. I was so confused as to why no one knew what the traditional drink was. I was talking to my boss later that day and we came to the conclusion that my coworkers, including my boss, didn't know what it was were the ones who drink alcohol. Those of us who knew what is was didn't. (Though there was one fellow, who makes the beer and brats, who knew what wassail was.) It was just an interesting coincidence. Or maybe it was a correlation, but everyone who tried the wassail wanted the recipe so I think it turned out well.
We bought the Stephen's version. Apparently Ian has never had it before. He said, "Wassail, where have you been all my life?" I just laughed.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love the Stephen's version. I just remembered a funny story relating to wassail. Mom and I were helping out at a wedding reception for a daughter of my mother's friend. They wanted wassail and had a great recipe, the one problem was it called for the individual packets of apple cider and like two tablespoons of orange concentrate. Perfect for a family of four, not so good for a wedding. My mother spent what felt like the first hour of the reception calculating out how many packets for each container of concentrate. It was bothersome.
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