But back to my new enemy: key limes. Sure, hubby, I say! Great idea! We're cutting back on drinking these days, and a nice minty limeade truly does sound like a perfect Fourth of July beverage. For forty-five fucking minutes, I cut these little dudes, try to pry out the tiny seeds, scrape out any pulp that wasn't selfishly hanging on to the skin, and squeeze until my fingers were shriveled like dead worms. I end up with, I'm not joking here, less than a half-cup of pulpy lime juice, and this is of course before I have to pick out all the seeds I missed, which much have displaced a good one-fourth cup themselves. Needless to say, this exercise was about as productive as milking a guinea pig for cheese. I realize this was a fool's errand. I should have given up. But what the hell else were we going to do with the limes? Make one of those key lime pies everyone talks about? I don't even know how those exist at this point. Why aren't these pies rare and costly?
But I'm done bitching. On to some instruction! After harvesting a tiny ti
t's worth of lime juice, I muddled about a dozen large mint leaves from our herb pots in the bottom of the bowl. Next, realizing that there was no way this would be enough lime, I added some lemon juice we had in the fridge. Awful stuff. I don't know how you can make "real" lemon juice taste processed, but evidently you can. A tear might have dropped into the mixture as I tasted the new formula only to find that the lemon stuff completely masked my 45 minutes of limey hell. From here, there's really not much more to say than 
add a crap load of agave nectar--keeping in mind that it's sweeter than sugar, so don't go too overboard--and a crap load of water. Just keep tasting and modifying to your liking. While the beverage itself is healthy and delicious, I can't say it wins in the ol' aesthetics department. At best, it looks like a urine test gone horribly wrong... so make sure you enjoy such a libation with friends who are open-minded, as our dinner partners are tonight.
