My buddy down the street left a gift for me on my door this morning: chili and cornbread. I'm assuming it was prompted by Purim, a holiday where, among other things we are admonished to drink until to drink until they do not "know the difference between 'cursed
be Haman' and 'blessed be Mordechai,'" according to Jewish doctrine.
(Haman is the name of the official in the story, and Mordechai is
In that vein, I will raise a glass this evening of the apple vodka. L'Chayim!