Two thousand and nine started oh so sweet, but finished crushingly bitter - the failed relationship, internal strife, and finally being drugged and robbed left me more than a little melancholy. Cliché as it sounds, the internal world does indeed start expressing itself in the things we do, in the product of our hands. So it's pretty unsurprising that one particularly dreary December evening I decided that mixing Cynar and salt would be a great idea.
