In honor of the newly-fallen star (and one of the rare child actors who made her life into something great) I made a Shirley Temple the other evening. A simple glass of ginger ale with a splash of grenadine, and an obnoxious Maraschino cherry – as unnaturally fire-engine red as possible – it was certainly on the sweet side of things, but the ginger cuts it just enough to make it tolerable.
Once again, the first time I had a Shirley Temple was with Suzie, at a Friendly’s as a teenager. Apparently by that point we’d outgrown Mary Poppins, but not Friendly’s or its Fribble. She was astounded that I’d never had the pink non-cocktail, so I ordered one and embarrassed myself in front of a server for about the cabillionth time.
