Edible Flower Lemonade

There are certain danger zones for me, certain walks that if I take them, I know what will end up in my belly. So after meeting my new friend Jeffery Self, co-star of the hilariously irreverent new Logo show "Jeffery and Cole Casserole," for coffee at Joe in the West Village last week, we found ourselves walking west. That is dangerous. If you walk west on Waverly, you will end up at an offshoot of the City Bakery called Birdbath. And you will be face-to-face with buttery cookies, crumbly scones, and David Lebovitz's favorite: pretzel croissants.

But on this visit, we found ourselves face-to-face with something unexpected: edible flower lemonade.

"Edible flower lemonade," I said.

"Sounds weird," said Jeffery Self.

"What is it?" I asked the man behind the counter.

He said, rather cheekily: "It's lemonade with edible flowers in it."

"Does it taste different?" I asked.

"Not really," he said.

It wasn't what you'd call a hard sell or, even, a soft sell. But still, I was curious, so I ordered a glass and indeed, when I tasted it, it tasted mostly of lemonade, with maybe, just maybe, the subtlest hint of edible flowers.

Ok, who am I kidding? It just tasted like lemonade and tasted nothing of flowers. But it looked gorgeous, right? And if it's a hot day and you're craving lemonade, why not order some with edible flowers in it? Or serve some with edible flowers in it? Your guests might be puzzled--even I'm still puzzled--but it'll look pretty and sometimes that's all that matters.