Weather: 29 degrees, cloudy
What I’m listening to: Gimme, Night Lights
The first time I ever sipped a jalapeño margarita was in Balboa Park in San Diego. It was dark, the twinkle lights were casting a dim yellow glow throughout the park, and we sat on the patio of The Prado surrounded by old world architecture. My friend casually ordered his usual – a jalapeño margarita on the rocks – and when it arrived at the table I asked for a sip, captivated by the fresh jalapeño slices bobbing in the highball glass. When the salt on the rim, the acidity of the lime and the sweetness of the simple syrup met with the heat of the tequila and fresh jalapeño at the back of my palate, it was a revelation.