Pretty in Pink: A Cranberry-Prosecco Sparkler

I’m super excited.

Pretty in Pink:  A Cranberry-Prosecco Sparkler

Pretty in Pink: A Cranberry-Prosecco Sparkler

Tonight I am meeting twenty or so women who are guests of Westminster College’s “Party Board” for a gal’s night out fundraising event supporting the general scholarship fund.  I’m a huge fan of the liberal arts—my undergrad years were spent at Rhodes College in Memphis, TN—and I’m an even bigger fan of women getting together for some fashion, fun, and Autumn-inspired cocktails mixed up by Yours Truly.  I promised them in advance I’d post the recipes on the blog so they can look ‘em up later.  Here goes, ladies!

Pretty in Pink: A Cranberry-Prosecco Sparkler

0.5 oz cranberry vodka*

3-4 oz. Prosecco

To a champagne flute, add 0.5 oz. cranberry-infused vodka.  Top with the Prosecco (how much depends on the size of your glass).  Garnish with a skewer of sugar-dusted vodka soaked cranberries left over from your infusion.  When you drop the skewer into the Prosecco, the sugar reacts to the carbonation of the wine and makes it bubble up even more.  Festive!

*To make cranberry vodka:  (Easily halved if you only need enough for a few cocktails) To a large clean quart lidded glass jar add 10 oz. dried unsulfured low-sugar cranberries.  Pour over enough vodka to fill the jar (about 3 to 3 ½ cups).  Place in a cool place away from direct sunlight, and shake daily for 1 week.  After a week, strain the vodka through a fine mesh strainer, reserving the vodka-soaked cranberries to make lovely garnishes.  If you are going to use the vodka immediately, it does not require refrigeration. If you are going to keep the vodka for longer-term storage, remove all sediment and fruit residue by filtering through a triple layer of cheesecloth or a coffee filter.

The Wasatch Mule

The Wasatch Mule

We also made Pear-Ginger Mules:  Here’s a link to the Wasatch Mule recipe on a past blog post. 

XOXO, y’all!

Simple Syrup in a FLASH!

Mmmm - smells like fall in here.  And booze.

Mmmm – smells like fall in here. And booze.

We’re taking a quick break from our tour of my tiny household and how I can get ‘er done in the midst of harvest, canning, etc.  Are y’all as crazy as I am this time of year?  Fortunately, The Macallan built some handy new shelves in the cellar for me – it’s a perfect temp year ’round for my various brewing, fermenting, and infusing projects.  Let’s just hope the cable guy doesn’t need to get to those wires behind my cider any time soon….

This week’s H.O.A.G.Y (Help Out a Gal/Guy, Yeah?) comes from a friend who needed to make simple syrup LIKE RIGHT NOW in preparation for a cocktail party, because the stuff she’d made a week earlier had already developed a Kombucha-like sugar mother alien thing and she was scared to use it.  I’d be scared, too.

So, here’s how you make simple syrup in under 30 minutes:

Four steps to FAST simple syrup

Four steps to FAST simple syrup

1 – into a pint Mason jar, fill half-way with sugar (your choice)

2 – fill with boiling water up to 1″ from the rim of the jar, stir to dissolve

3 – add ice cubes to the rim of the jar, gently stir to dissolve and cool

4 – place a lid on the jar and the jar in an ice-water bath

It will be ready in 15- 20 minutes.  Enjoy!

The Wasatch Mule: a pear-ginger white whiskey cocktail

The Wasatch Mule

The Wasatch Mule

After posting my call for bourbon cocktail requests in honor of National Bourbon Heritage Month I learned quite a bit about y’all via your feedback. Mostly that:

1) your time, storage space and/or desire to mix up a bunch of esoteric syrups, shrubs, and bitters is limited;

2) y’all don’t like to purchase or wash any more cocktail equipment than necessary; and

3) you are curious (dare I say suspicious?) about how I manage to make this shit happen on a regular basis in my tiny kitchen with all of those kids and dogs underfoot.

So, for the rest of this month at this here blog we’ll go through each of these concerns and talk it out. And drink some bad-ass cocktails. We’ll tackle the time/space issue this post.

Before I call y’all out as the laziest bunch of sorry cocktail geeks I’ve ever known, I’ll make some of excuses on your behalf. In fact, they’re excuses I use for myself, all the time. Rare ingredients and random specialty booze like that 12-year-old crusty Blue Curaçao bottle with only 3-4 oz. used up take up a lot of space, and if you live in a 1940’s Sugarhouse cottage like mine, that’s at a premium. We were lucky enough to buy a house that the previous owner had obviously fitted with some SERIOUS food storage/hoarding capabilities, which my boys promptly filled with Legos in various stages of completion. Also, most syrups and some shrubs experiments require refrigeration, and if you are an infrequent cocktail mixer this seems like a waste of space that could be used for cheap white wine, expensive beer, and your Costco-sized bag of lettuce. I get it, so I’m gonna go full disclosure on y’all so you don’t get all frustrated about the physical and emotional space you are in.

The booze: You know why bars have that huge shelf of hundreds of bottles behind them? Because a bar needs them to serve the whim of folks who wouldn’t ever use Fernet or Aperol (both of which are next to impossible to source for the home consumer in Utah) for in a cocktail at home, but like to order the most complicated cocktails ever made when they’re out. A good barkeep will also have a wide price and flavor range within a booze category, e.g. several kinds of gin, bourbon, etc. Unless you are having outrageous cocktail parties every weekend or write a booze blog you don’t need all that shit at your house. Figure out what you like, and just keep that on hand. If you don’t know what you like, go to a very good bar early on a not-very-busy night and talk to your bartender. They’ll be happy to help you find your groove – most mixologists love to share their knowledge and recipes. Only buy the random stuff when you have a big party and want to make a signature cocktail, then at the end of the night give a guest who loved it (and whom you love) the random bottle(s). You get your space back, and make a friend for life. Win-win.

The mixers: I started out making my own shrubs, syrups, and bitters because when I first moved to Utah years ago there wasn’t much of a cocktail scene here and these things were hard to come by for the average home consumer. Thanks to Amazon.com, Etsy, and great local small-batch producers all over the country, it’s getting easier every day to source great ingredients. For instance, here in Salt Lake, you can buy Sugarhouse Libations cocktail syrups at the Downtown Farmer’s Market on Saturdays, or order their delicious syrups online. No, they didn’t pay me to say this, I just like their stuff. And the packaging and recipes that come with the heavy sexy bottle are feckin’ killing it. Get some. Then make this with it:

The Wasatch Mule

This cocktail is a play on the Moscow Mule, which you’ve seen served in pretty metal cups. To make it Utah Wasatch Mountains style, I used High West Distillery Silver Oat Whiskey instead of vodka, and Sugarhouse Libations Pear-Ginger syrup, and mix up the whole thing in a pint Mason jar. Yes, you can make your own pear liqueur (which, yes, I do, and it’s the BOMB), but you can also find it at big liquor stores.

5-6 leaves mint, spanked
2 oz. Silver Whiskey (or moonshine)
1 oz. pear liqueur
4 oz. pear-ginger syrup
2 oz. club soda

Spank the mint between your palms, as if clapping. Throw it in the bottom of a pint Mason jar. Add the whiskey, pear liqueur, and pear-ginger syrup. Fill almost to the top with ice. Close up with the jar lid and shake like crazy. Uncap the jar and add club soda. Replace the lid and gently tilt to combine ingredients –don’t shake it or that shit will explode all over you! This can also be made in a traditional cocktail shaker (minus the club soda—again with the exploding) and poured into a mule cup or julep cup with a floater of club soda swizzled in.

Peach & Basil Bourbon Smash

Peaches & Herb: A Peach-Basil Smash Cocktail

Peaches & Herb: A Peach-Basil Smash Cocktail

Another H.O.A.G.Y (Help Out a Gal/Guy, Yeah?) from a friend, “I’ve got a sh!tload of peaches.  What to do?”

Well, mix ’em with bourbon, of course!

Make a Peach and Bourbon Smash cocktail, perhaps we’ll call it Peaches & Herb? (Get it? #weareold) Celebrate the end of the week -or just getting through 4th grade homework- with this refreshing seasonal cocktail.

In a cocktail shaker muddle together:

1/2 very ripe peach

4-5 basil leaves

2 tsp honey or agave syrup

Add:

1.5 oz bourbon

0.5 oz Lillet Blanc

and a bunch o’ ice

Shake like crazy & strain into a pretty glass.  Garnish with a peach wedge and sprig of basil.

TGIF!

Jalapeño-Cucumber Gimlet

Paraphrasing my ole’ buddy Cole Porter, It’s Too Damn HOT!

Jalapeño-Cucumber Gimlet

Jalapeño-Cucumber Gimlet

I was chatting with a gal in the produce section of Trader Joe’s the other day, and we were talking about Persian (cocktail) cucumbers – namely about how delicious they are and how nice it is not to have to peel them.  But, it’s also widely know that those temperamental bastards won’t last more than a couple of days in your fridge before they get moldy spots and you’re throwing them into the compost bin.

Sure, they are delightful in salads (especially with a little feta and some melon or tomatoes this time of year).  If you think they are getting borderline funky, you can slow down the decay trajectory by making a quick refrigerator pickle:  slice or sliver your cukes, then add some chopped scallions and about 2 teaspoons vinegar—I like rice wine vinegar or white balsamic—per cucumber ratio; toss to combine and refrigerate.  Add a bit of red or black pepper before serving and a pinch of sea salt.

I also like pulling out a couple to make cocktails, a few of which I’ve talked about here before.

You’ve probably seen the studies quoted that hot foods actually make you feel cooler and have natural antimicrobial qualities.  Hence, spicy food preferences in cultures living in warmer climates.  Right now, Utah’s about as hot as I can take it—and this from a gal who lived in muggy Memphis and the ‘dry’ heat of Arizona for years.  I made this spicy-cool version of a gimlet to at least give me a modicum of gracious respite last night.  It’s cool and bracing at the same time.  I like using vodka instead of gin for this gimlet recipe; it makes the jalapeño taste cleaner and brighter in contrast.  It’s fabulous with half of the martini glass rim coated in a fragrant smoked sea salt.

Jalapeño-Cucumber Gimlet

1 Persian (small cocktail) cucumber, sliced

½ jalapeño, seeded

2 oz. vodka

1 Tbs. agave nectar

Juice of 1 lime

Smoked sea salt

 

Throw the cucumber and jalapeño in a cocktail shaker and muddle the bejesus out of them with a pestle or wooden spoon.   Meanwhile, rub ½ of the rim of a martini glass with half of a cut lime, then dip in smoked sea salt (I used a Durango smoked salt for this, but it’s also great with a black Salish smoked salt).  Add the vodka, agave, and lime juice to the shaker with a few cubes of ice.  Shake like crazy.  Add a few cubes of fresh ice to your pretty cocktail glass, then strain your cocktail over the rocks.  Garnish with cucumber and jalapeño.

For the rest of September, I’ll be featuring Bourbon cocktails and recipes for National Bourbon Heritage Month!  Email, Facebook (“A Bourbon Gal”), or Instagram (abourbongal) me your requests for the next bourbon-based H.O.A.G.Y. (Help Out a Gal/Guy, Yeah?)  You can also find abourbongal on Twitter, but I suck at it.  #sorrykinda

Ratatouille. Or, How Thomas Keller Made My Life Hell

Ratatouille: The case for Smell-o-vision

Ratatouille: The case for Smell-o-vision

Ratatouille.   Conjured in savory memories, it’s a fragrant eggplant-basil-and-tomato-y meal, served with crusty bread and a big glass of house red wine at a laid-back Montmartre bistro.  It’s 1987, and I’m with my girlfriend Woodford Reserve (on the rocks with a splash of spring water) knocking around Paris.

Me (far right) with my gal Woodford Reserve's parents (Bob & Penny Miller) and their famous friends: Paul Levy, Michael Holroyd, Margaret Drabble, and Georgia Levy. England, summer 1987

Me (far right) with my gal Woodford Reserve’s parents (Bob & Penny Miller) and their famous friends: Paul Levy, Michael Holroyd, Margaret Drabble, and Georgia Levy. England, summer 1987

We were in France and England during the summer between high school and college, and thanks to her parents’ superb restaurant picks, progressive ideas and generous wallet we travelled, and ate, and drank very well on our jaunt.  Well, better than I did for many years to follow, anyway.

Paris, 1987.

Paris, 1987.

Fast forward to 2007.  Over 20 years, I’ve finally (in my humble opinion) mastered a pretty kick-ass ratatouille in my home kitchen, a fact of which I’m inordinately proud.  I revel in finding the perfect glossy eggplant, the juiciest yet firmest plum tomatoes, and most gorgeous zucchini my garden or the market has to offer.   It’s wonderful atop a graceful swirl of pasta or buttery mound of polenta; or served as I remembered it in France, sopped up from a shallow bowl with generous crusts of bread.  For the longest time, my kids thought it was just another chunky pasta sauce; and until Sprite started eating only white food in first grade, both boys ate it all the time without question.

And then along came Thomas Fecking Keller.  Mastermind chef behind the food styling for Disney/Pixar’s 2007 film Ratatouille.

Ratatouille "All Stacked Up" in the movie.

Ratatouille “All Stacked Up” in the movie.

Don’t get me wrong.  I will eat Keller’s food whenever I get the chance.  And, I LOVE this movie.  I love the theme behind it; that “anyone can cook.”  I love the message—even preschoolers get it—that great soul-and-body nourishing food is about balance and flavor and freshness, not about how fast you can get it from a cardboard container into your mouth.  I love that drinking the occasional glass of wine by reasonable adults is neither demonized nor glorified; it’s just part of enjoying a great meal.  I love that the main female character is a culinary badass and has short hair, clogs, keeps her clothes on for the entire movie, and does NOT sing a goddamn peep.

And I loved hearing my children say as the credits rolled, “Mom, let’s make ratatouille!”

I spent all day with them making it: chopping, then individually sautéing each vegetable until just al dente.  We gently folded each perfectly cooked vegetable into an enameled Dutch oven, then covered it with parchment paper and slowly roasted it at a low temperature for most of the afternoon.  My boys took one look at the glorious results and said, “what’s THAT? ”

They were expecting Thomas Fecking Keller’s version:  as they call it “Ratatouille, all stacked up.”  Which I eventually figured out how to make, and it’s also pretty kick-ass.  But now they expect EVERY thing in our tiny kitchen to come out plated as beautifully as a goddamn Bon Appétit feature spread.  When I told this story to my buddy French 75, he said “what did you expect?  You brought this shit down on yourself.”

And I totally did.

I entirely support the notion that you eat with your eyes first, and that a beautifully composed plate should be at every meal served at our table.  It really doesn’t take that much longer to orient your vegetables attractively and put a little saucy swirl and some herbs on the plate, and I think in the long run it makes great food more attractive, accessible and approachable for more people.  Especially the shorties.

I just wish I didn’t feel backed into a corner to do so by a little rat named Remy, who’s possessed by a plating genius.  Fecking Keller.

Thomas Keller (left) constructing the ratatouille dished used for the film.

Thomas Keller (left) constructing the ratatouille dished used for the film.

Ratatouille “All Stacked Up”  (serves 4)

Keller’s version is a gorgeous layered casserole, which he then deconstructs for plating.  That’s beautiful and awesome, and is a great way to make this recipe, too.  I use 4” round mini springform pans with removable bases to bake the vegetable layers in, which the kids love to pack themselves for individual flavor preferences.   I also add mozzarella cheese and sometimes a sprinkling of Panko to this dish, even though it’s not at all authentic (hell, nothing about this is authentic, so why stop there?)   It just makes it more gooey, crunchy, and yummy.

4 Tbs olive oil (plus more for drizzling)

3 cloves garlic, sliced

1 medium eggplant

1 medium zucchini

1 medium yellow squash

3-4 plum tomatoes

1 red bell pepper, cored

1 medium onion

2 medium balls fresh mozzarella (or 1 cup shredded mozzarella)

1 small bunch basil leaves (12-16 large leaves)

½ cup Panko (Japanese bread crumbs) – optional

Ratatouille towers, ready to go in the oven (I hadn't added the Panko yet).

Ratatouille towers, ready to go in the oven (I hadn’t added the Panko yet).

Slice the eggplant into very thin (as thin as possible) rounds.  Spread in an even layer on a rimmed cookie sheet and sprinkle generously with kosher or sea salt (about 2 tablespoons).  Let sit for about 20 minutes, then turn over the eggplant slices and sprinkle with a bit more salt.  Let rest for another after 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, slice all of the remaining vegetables cross-wise with a very sharp knife or mandolin, making your rounds as thin as possible.  Sprinkle all of the vegetable slices with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Slice the mozzarella balls into thin rounds (or crumble) if using fresh cheese.

Preheat an oven to 350 degrees.

Remove the eggplant slices from the rimmed cookie sheet, and squeeze gently to remove as much liquid and salt as possible.  Don’t worry about completely removing the salt from the eggplant slices, it will add great flavor to your dish.   Wipe all the excess liquid from the cookie sheet.

In a large cast iron skillet, heat about 2 Tbs. oil over medium heat.  Add garlic slices and stir constantly to avoid burning; when the garlic starts to soften and brown (but not burn!) remove it from the oil with a slotted spoon and set aside in a small bowl.   In batches of 3-4 slices of eggplant per time (so as not to crowd your skillet), add eggplant to the oil and cook gently until slightly softened on each side and just starting to brown.  Repeat with remaining eggplant slices, adding more oil if needed.

Slightly oil the rimmed cookie sheet with olive oil.  Place four 4” mini springform pans WITH THE BASES REMOVED on the sheet pan, spacing equally.   Starting with a slice of eggplant on the bottom, fill each pan (or stack) with equal parts of each vegetable type and basil leaves, alternating layers of each type of veggie, and layering about halfway through with half of the cheese.  Put more cheese near the top layer, and press down gently as you go to compress the layers as much as possible.  If using springform pans, really pack those suckers full, the veggies will cook down quite a bit.  Drizzle the top of each tower with about 1 tsp. olive oil, the reserved garlic slivers, and sprinkle on top about 1 tablespoon Panko if you like a little crispy accent.

Place on the center rack of your oven and bake for 35-40 minutes, or until brown on top and bubbly.  Remove from oven and let cool for about 5 minutes to let layers settle.  To plate, slide a wide spatula underneath the tower (or underneath the edge of the pan), gently wiggling to make sure the eggplant is not stuck to the cookie sheet.  Run a small sharp knife around the inside edge of the springform pan to prevent sticking, then gently slide the spatula-laden tower to your serving plate; pull the spatula free from under the tower, then pull the springform pan straight up to release that baby onto your plate.  Garnish with a drizzle of oil from the pan and a sprig of basil.

Now grab a big glass of wine – you deserve it!

Plum Lucky

local plums

local plums

We were on a plum glut for a while here at my tiny kitchen.  My girlfriend Pink Lady has a friend with a super-prolific plum tree and he basically gave her– and by extension, me, though I’d never met this scion of generosity before—carte blanche with his crop before the birds got ‘em all.

We’re talking plums for DAYS, friends.

Nice, small–about the size of a walnut– dark ones, which were delightfully sweet out of hand.  A large portion of the less-gorgeous specimens* I used to make a big batch of thick cocktail syrup, which I then processed in half-pint jars to keep shelf stable for the year.  I’m sharing here with y’all a small-batch recipe which will keep beautifully in your fridge (if you’ve strained it well) for 3-4 weeks.

This syrup will make you look like a cocktail rock star: the gorgeous deep purple-to-pink color practically glows in the glass, even when it’s shaken vigorously with liquor.  It pairs especially well with an English dry floral gin (think Plymouth, or Broker’s), or with vodka if you want more of the ginger notes to stand out.  It’s also very refreshing mixed with one part syrup to two parts club soda, poured over ice: a super elegant and tasty option for your friends who’d like something non-alcoholic at the party.

The Plum Lucky (makes one)

Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup and Gin
Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup and Gin

2 oz. gin

2 oz. Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup (recipe, below)

To a cocktail shaker filled half way with ice, add gin and plum syrup.  Shake the bejeezus out of it until your hands can hardly hold that shaker ‘cause they are so icy cold.  Strain into a martini glass; garnish with a cube of candied ginger pierced on a narrow skewer.

Plum Crazy- a bourbon & plum cocktail.  Thanks to The Macallan for the awesome coaster.

Plum Crazy- a bourbon & plum cocktail. Thanks to The Macallan for the awesome coaster.

Plum Crazy

2 oz. bourbon

2 oz. Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup (recipe, below)

2 oz. club soda

In a large glass filled with ice, swizzle together bourbon and plum syrup with a long spoon until well combined.  Pour in club soda and gently stir to combine.

 

 

Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn Cocktail Syrup (makes about a quart)

One pound plums, any color- pitted and cut into quarters

1/3 cup fresh ginger root, peeled and rough chopped

1 tsp. pink peppercorns

2 ½ cups water

1 ¾ cups granulated sugar

Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup on the stovetop.  Smells so good!

Plum-Ginger Pink Peppercorn syrup on the stovetop. Smells so good!

Combine all ingredients in a heavy medium saucepan.  Bring to a low boil, and then reduce to a simmer.  Let simmer for 30 minutes or more, or until fruit is very soft and broken, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking.  Remove from heat, uncovered, and let sit until it reaches room temperature (about an hour).  Pour initially through a mesh strainer to remove large solids.  Strain again through a double layer of cheesecloth or a jelly bag; don’t be tempted to push your liquid through the strainer or scrape the goo off the bottom (that will make your syrup cloudy- yuck!).  Store in a sealed glass jar or bottle in the refrigerator.

*You can use fruit that’s a little bruised or smooshed to make this syrup, but throw any fruit showing rotting or mold in your compost.

FrankenFruit & Fennel Salad

Watermelon-Tomato & Fennel Salad

Watermelon-Tomato & Fennel Salad

It seems like every damn food magazine/blog/tweet I’m getting this summer is featuring a watermelon-tomato salad variation.  Watermelon and Tomato!  I KNOW tomatoes are fruits, but that combination still freaks me out on principle.  Sometimes it’s featured with citrus.  Sometimes cheese (usually feta).  In various combinations of heirloom this and locally-sourced that.  Which is awesome, but hard to get the kids to eat, quite frankly.  I finally caved a few weeks ago and made this fecked up Frankenfruit combination salad for a dinner party at our place and it was a WINNER!  Even in the under-21 demographic.  Here’s the version I made (which is surprisingly vegan and gluten-free), but you could totally sub out other kinds of melon.  I personally like it served alongside a nice, bloody, grilled T-bone steak.

FrankenFruit & Fennel Salad

3 cups watermelon, cut in 1” cubes

1 fennel bulb, sliced into 2” long very narrow slivers, plus some of the chopped fronds

1 cup (about 2 medium) heirloom tomatoes, cut into 1” pieces

2 oranges supremed*, with juice

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 tsp. champagne vinegar

A generous pinch of Hawaiian Alaea sea salt or kosher salt

Fresh ground black pepper

Toss all ingredients in a large bowl, fold gently to combine.  Awesome additions:  kalamata olives, feta cheese, or steak.  Hells yeah. 

*Supremed citrus= cut off all of the rind of the fruit, including the white pith.  Holding the naked fruit in your hot little palm over a small bowl, cut in between the white section walls, releasing the bare fruit sections.  Squeeze the remaining juice from the sectioned hull into the bowl.  Put all the fruit sections and juice in your salad.  Throw the rest of that shit in your compost, or feed it to the chickens.

Firecracker Moonshine Jell-O Shots

Layered Jell-O shots.  Party like it's 1847!

Layered Jell-O shots. Party like it’s 1847!

July 24th:  Pioneer Day.  It’s a Utah state holiday commemorating the triumphant arrival of Brigham Young and his band of pioneers to the Salt Lake valley on July 24, 1847.  After he declared “This is the right place,” floods of Mormon emigrants and immigrants followed him to Utah.   Most Utah towns of any size (except for the Independent Republic of Park City, but that’s another topic altogether…) host parades and associated “family-friendly” festivals.  The Salt Lake City parade is the biggest community event of the year.  Last year, lawmakers extended the period during which residents shoot aerial fireworks so that citizens could blow shit up from the  4th to the 24th of July without interruption.  Folks who celebrate Pioneer Day host parties that fall into two camps directly divided by modern religious affiliation, rather than pioneer ancestry:  Pioneers vs. “Pie and Beers.” Makes me want a good, stiff drink.  Or some Jell-O shots. That’s right, Pie & Beer Camp: We are making Freaking Moonshine Jell-O Shots.  With PopRocks on top!

The verdict:  Pretty damn good

The verdict: Pretty damn good

I made the ones photographed here for a July 4th party hosted by Lemon Drop and IPA (a.k.a. Hoss on Hops).  They were a freaking HIT.  Half I made without alcohol; those were topped with cherries (to make sure the kiddos, pregnant women, recovering alcoholics, and Mormons didn’t get the boozy ones by accident).   Half were made using 80 proof white corn whiskey (commercially available “moonshine”) instead of the frat party favorite Everclear.   I left those unadorned until just before serving, then I scattered about ¼ teaspoon of Pop Rocks (yes! The exploding in your mouth candy!) on each shot.  The combination of the whiff of Moonshine with the sweet gumminess of the Jell-O was perfectly balanced by the acoustic and sensory bang of the Pop Rocks.  And nobody died from combining Pop Rocks and alcohol, so take that, urban mythologists. As a basis for this recipe, and for help figuring out how to make the “white” layer, I turned to a Wiki-how tutorial on making Patriots football Jell-o shots.  Of course, you can substitute any colors/flavors you want, and you can always use plain old vodka if you don’t have corn liquor on hand. This recipe makes about 35 shots, depending upon what kind of containers you use and how full you fill them.

Layered Moonshine Jell-O shots

1 – 3 oz. box blue Jell-O

2 packets plain gelatin

1 can (1 cup) sweetened condensed milk

1 – 3 oz. box red Jell-O 3 cups boiling water (divided use)

2 ½  cups clear relatively flavorless liquor (corn whiskey or vodka)

3-4 packages Cherry or Watermelon (red) Pop Rocks

To assemble your shots: Place 35 small plastic cups on a large rimmed sheet tray.  Lightly spray all of the cups with flavorless cooking spray to reduce sticking.

Blue layer

Blue layer

For the blue layer:  combine blue Jell-O with 1 cup boiling water; stir until completely dissolved.  Let cool slightly (otherwise your liquor will evaporate from the heat- we don’t want that!!).  Add the liquor, and pour equally into small cups.  Refrigerate for about 2 hours, or until set.

For the white layer:  sprinkle gelatin packets over 1 ½ cups water just off the boil; whisk quickly to dissolve completely.  Keep whisking and add the condensed milk and ½ cup liquor.   After it’s all combined, pour gently over the blue layer 2/3 the way up the cup.  Refrigerate for about 2 hours, or until set.

White layer

White layer

For the red layer:  combine red Jell-O with 1 cup boiling water; stir until completely dissolved.  Let cool slightly.  Add the liquor, and pour equally into small cups.  Add fruit to top at this point, if desired.  Refrigerate for about 2 hours, or until set. For the PopRocks Firecracker finale!  As you are serving the Jell-O shots, have guest sprinkle about ¼ tsp. Rop Rocks on their Jell-O shot.

Everything was a little blurry by this time, including this shot

Everything was a little blurry by this time, including this shot

Cherry-Basil Syrup for Cocktails

There’s nothing quite like the tart juicy burst of a sweet, musky—and the best are almost over-ripe—cherry bursting on my tongue.  Each bite followed by the quick rip-pull of the stem from between the teeth and a never-graceful pucker to release the pit.  Fresh cherries piled in a bowl of ice are the perfect snack for a blazing mid-summer afternoon.

Leifheit didn't pay us to use this pitter.  We just think it's wonderful.

Leifheit didn’t pay us to use this pitter. We just think it’s wonderful.

Cherries have been starring in quite a few dishes in my kitchen already this summer.   My neighbor has three ancient sour-cherry trees in her yard; one day last summer we picked 16 pounds (yes, pounds!) of fruit from her trees, fighting off the birds as we went.   After my boys spent a half-hour using one-at-a-time pitters that fell apart after 50 cherries, I purchased a Leifheit Cherry Stoner.  Those clever Germans know what they are doing in the cherry processing department:  we pitted the entire mess in a little over an hour.  Best $29.95 I’ve ever spent on a plastic kitchen appliance that Alton Brown would no-doubt classify as a “uni-tasker.”

This summer we’re using both farm-stand purchased sweet cherries and sour cherries.  We’re making the usual cherry preserves, cherry jam, and cherry-rhubarb chutney.  But every year I also put up several cherry applications specific to cocktail making:  Cherry Heering (which we made in a previous post), Cherry Bounce (the Appalachian infusion of one part cherries in two parts white corn or bourbon whiskey), and I make cherry syrups and shrubs, which are classic Southern cocktail mixers.  Although I use basil in this recipe, a plain cherry syrup is just as delightful and a bit more flexible for general cocktail use.

Cherry, Basil & Pink Peppercorn Syrup.

Cherry, Basil & Pink Peppercorn Syrup.

Cherry-Basil & Pink Peppercorn Syrup 

This jewel-toned syrup is gorgeous mixed into Manhattans, or used instead of simple syrup to jazz up clear soda-based simple cocktails in the gin and vodka varieties.  See recipes, below.

2 cups water

2 cups sugar

2 cups cherries, pitted and rough-chopped

1 handful of basil leaves

1 tsp. pink peppercorns

Over medium heat, bring all ingredients to a low simmer, stirring continuously to dissolve the sugar.  Once the mixture comes to a light simmer, reduce heat to the lowest setting and let barely simmer for 5 minutes.  Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.  Rest for at least one and up to three hours to let flavors meld.

Strain through a fine mesh strainer into a large non-reactive (ceramic or glass) container.  Do not be tempted to press down on the solids or scrape the bottom of the strainer — this will give you a cloudy (although still delicious) syrup!  Just let gravity do its work.  Store in the refrigerator for up to three weeks.

Basil-Cherry Bellini.  Yum!

Basil-Cherry Bellini. Yum!

Basil-Cherry Bellini

1 oz. Cherry-Basil Pink Peppercorn Syrup, strained

3 oz. chilled Prosecco

Pour cherry syrup into a chilled champagne or coupe glass.  Slowly add the Prosecco (take your time, this will fizz a lot!).  Garnish with a small basil leaf or two.  Gorgeous!