Justify your summer binge drinking with fresh fruit

It's super warm in Anchorage and between Full Circle and Costco (and a massive backlog of good dietary intentions), I have a house full of fresh fruit. More fresh fruit, in fact, than two people could possibly eat unless they were doing a fruit fast, and a fruit fast won't work out for us because, as it turns out, one of the rules is you can't eat steak.

Fortunately, I also have a well-stocked liquor cabinet, a really kick-ass blender and a basic understanding of mixed drink composition. Which is why I'm kicking back in the sun right now, misting the dog with a spray bottle (you'd need misting, too, if you were covered with a thick coat of Siberian fur) and sucking down my second daiquiri of the evening, which I refuse to feel guilty about because news flash, y'all: This drink is almost entirely made of fresh, healthy, fiber-rich FRUIT.

Purists might complain that a traditional daiquiri is made with lime, it's not blended, etc., etc. To that I say: You're right. This is an incredibly lazy adaptation of what is already a bastardization of the drink whose name it bears. But it is so delicious, and so easy, that I really don't care.

If you'd like to join me on the guilt-free bar tour of summer produce, hop on board.

How to make the easiest strawberry daiquiri in the whole world

Get out your blender. Actually, start by getting a really great blender. If you get married and you're not sure what to put on your registry, may I recommend a spectacular blender? It will change your life.

Got your blender? Great. Dump a tray of ice cubes into it. (This is why you need a quality blender. There's nothing worse than trying to crush ice with an ineffective blender.) Then add about twice the volume of fresh strawberries (one part ice, two parts berries, more or less). 

Once you've got your fruit in there, splash in some liquor. I used rum, because this is a daiquiri, and that means rum. As far as measurements go, I don't want to tell you what to do (and I've never measured the liquor myself), but I usually put in enough that there's a puddle about an inch and a half deep at the bottom of the blender.

At this point, depending on the natural sweetness of my berries (which I have, naturally, pre-sampled; that is called quality control), I will probably add some kind of sweetener. I generally add a couple of packets of Stevia in the Raw. You could also use sugar or honey or agave or whatever hippie natural sweetener you like, but for God's sake, don't use Sweet 'N' Low. This is FRESH FRUIT. Don't wreck it.

OK, now set your blender to pulse mode (what's that? Your blender doesn't have pulse mode? See the first step. You need a better blender) and puree that bad boy until it's smooth. Then TURN YOUR BLENDER OFF and stick your finger in the top to taste it. (The finger part is imperative, which is why it's majorly important that you turn the blender off before you taste. Your evening of delicious homemade daiquiris will be ruined if you have to spend it in the emergency room.) If it's not sweet enough, sweeten it. If it's too thick, add more rum. (It should be thicker than extra pulp orange juice but not as thick as a Jamba Juice.) When it's perfect, pour it into one of the margarita glasses you got as a wedding gift. Take a photo and put it on the Internet so your relatives will know how much you like those glasses. Instagram it first so you feel extra arty.

Guess what? You just made a motherfucking strawberry daiquiri.

You are now awesome at concocting frozen blended alcoholic drinks, so take your skills out into the world and do good works. You can alter the basic recipe to change it up. Sub tequila for the rum and call it a strawberry margarita. Sub vodka for the tequila and call it amazing. Last night I used all fresh strawberries, but tonight I mixed it up (because I used most of the strawberries last night) and tossed in some seedless black grapes as well. And, OK, most of a SpongeBob Push-Up Pop. Listen, I just go with what feels right. And it felt so, so right. I also like to add a splash of liqueur in a complementary flavor; Chambord for your frutti di bosco, Triple Sec for your summer/citrus fruits, et cetera. If you're daring (or severely, depressingly alcoholic), you can even take it to work in the morning and call it a "smoothie." Just don't let anyone smell your breath.

Take the genius one step further:

Want this mind-numbingly simple process to be even more stupidly easy next time? Get a clean ice cube tray and fill it up with your leftover daiquiri.

OK, who are we kidding? There is no leftover daiquiri. Which is why you always make extra. So take your extra daiquiri and fill up an ice cube tray (or two). Stick it in the freezer. When the cubes are frozen, dump them into a Ziploc bag and keep them frozen.

Pop quiz, hot shot: What do you have now?

That's right. One quick and easy, ready-to-blend daiquiri. So next time all you have to do is pop those frozen daiquiri cubes in the blender and hit "puree." So easy a child could do it. In fact, if you have children of blender-operating age, I recommend teaching them to do it right now. That way you don't have to get out of your deck chair for the rest of the summer, and they'll have something to talk about with their therapist someday.

You're welcome.