Border Security and Strawberry Mojitos
One thing to know about me is that I don’t break rules. I always do my homework, I never park illegally, and I won’t connect to your unsecured network.
When I find myself among a group of people proudly telling stories about their teenage misbehavior, I’ll laugh and play along. I’ll consider sharing the time I knocked over a lamp in our family room with my overstuffed backpack and broke the lampshade. I pieced it back together perfectly, or so I thought. But when night fell and my dad flipped the switch on, every crack was illuminated, casting abstract shadows on the walls. He took one look at it and said, “What the hell happened to the lamp?” I confessed, of course, and my dad laughed hysterically, probably at the relief of realizing I would never dare to get into real trouble. Then I’ll recognize my story is not the same as, say, stealing cars and smoking various substances, and decide not to contribute.
When I was twenty-seven I did consider dying my hair a “classy” pink, subtle and in the style of certain fashionable celebrities, and getting a tattoo on my wrist inspired by a Taylor Swift lyric, but the urge passed three hours later. Which is all to say that if you think for one second that I am going to try to pull a fast one on United States Border Patrol, you have put your faith in the wrong person.
To celebrate the 4th of July this year, we went to Canada. It felt rebellious in these times, but in reality we simply wanted to take a trip within driving distance that wasn’t northern Michigan, for a change. As we had both just renewed our severely expired passports, we looked across the border and thought a visit to Niagara Falls fit the bill. It was magnificent, majestic -- of course.
After we admired the falls from the left, right, above, below, in front of, and behind, we spent our last day exploring the surrounding rural area. We sat on the south shore of Lake Ontario for a foggy view of Toronto across the bay, visited a maple syrup farm, considered tasting at one of the many wineries (were it not for our impending four-hour drive), and picked up a jar of rhubarb jam and a pint of the sweetest, most petite, jewel-like strawberries I ever did see. They were going to be muddled into my favorite summer cocktail that evening, and further, bring a taste of vacation to upcoming breakfasts at my desk.
When we were halfway back home we started to talk through the logistics of our return to America, specifically the border crossing.
“I’ll let you do all the talking, unless the guard specifically asks me a question.”
“Definitely.”
“How much did you say we could bring back without declaring?”
“$500.00.”
“Ok, we have the gifts for my mom and sister, our Lululemon outlet purchases, my two Canada sweatshirts...”
“You bought both of those?!”
“Yes. The maple syrup, maple candies, and maple butter, and the jam and strawberries.”
(Opens calculator. Opens foreign currency exchange app.)
“Ok! We’re good!”
I go back to reading Bad Blood, a story about someone decidedly not risk averse, when I’m interrupted. “Hey babe, does the customs website say anything about bringing fruit into the U.S.?”
It did, of course. It wasn’t allowed, obviously. And that’s how a pint of the freshest, cutest, sweetest, little strawberries became our Canadian highway snack.
An hour later we crossed the Ambassador Bridge, ready for questioning. In my mind, ok, two Canada sweatshirts, no strawberries. When it was our turn, we rolled down all the windows. Jeff said hello, I gave a friendly smile.
“Where are you coming from?”
“Niagara Falls.”
“How long were you there?”
“Three days.”
“Welcome home.”
The gate flips up and we drive through. You can never be too prepared.
STRAWBERRY MOJITO
If I had dared to bring home the perfect strawberries from Canada, this is the drink I would have made. It’s inspired by a disgraced super-chef who once hosted an excellent show that rhymes with Bolto Bario.
Muddle 3 ripe strawberries (hulled) and 5 fresh mint leaves in the bottom of a drinking glass. Add 2 tbsp agave, 2 oz of rum, and a splash of ginger beer. Mix well and enjoy.