Ever want a nice silky mocha when all you have is rum? Happens to me all the time. And everyone else too, I’m sure. Here’s the solution.
Mocha Flip
Dry shake the first 5 ingredients. Add ice, shake, and double strain into a cocktail glass. Dash chocolate bitters on top. Use a microplane or grater to grate some dark chocolate over the top of the drink.
* – Make coffee syrup by combining equal parts brewed coffee and sugar in a bottle larger than the combined volume and just shaking (for a long while) to combine. It’ll last in the fridge for quite a while. Use a lighter roast or cold brew to minimize bitterness. (A coffee liqueur could be used instead of this, but it’d have to be exceptionally high quality or homemade. Use Kahlua in cocktails at your own peril.)
Coconut syrup was one of my primary cocktail revelations of the last year. It’s a flavor that generally evokes in me an absolute numb, deadened sensation. Total ennui. It’s not that I hate coconut: I just don’t like it, and it’s never done much for me.
But last January or so, I had some ideas for drinks based off of coconut ranging from mixing it with rum and Aperol to using it in an egg white foam atop bourbon and chocolate bitters with fresh chocolate for sort of a German Chocolate Cake flavor. I found earlier this month that I, much to my surprise, missed having coconut syrup around.
So I made more and decided to start making drinks based upon it again. Of all the cocktails I’ve made recently, this is surprisingly my favorite, a nicely balanced drink that really only hints at coconut. The absinthe rinse is crucial: Minus that component, this particular recipe comes off as a just a touch flabby. Somehow, the absinthe highlights the citrus without adding much of the characteristic anise/licorice flavor. Pretty much awesome.
I’m calling it the Drunken Angel. Here’s the recipe.
Drunken Angel
Combine all the ingredients save the bitters in a shaker. Dry shake. Shake with ice. Swirl a bit of absinthe in a coupe and discard any that immediately puddles. Double strain the drink into the coated glass. Gently dash the Peychaud’s over the top of the drink, trying to concentrate several dots in the center. Use a toothpick to draw the bitters out into a nebulous, heavenly shape. Discard the toothpick, pick up the glass, and get your drink on.
To make coconut syrup, heat up equal parts sugar and water to create a 1:1 simple syrup. Give it a stir and don’t let it boil. As soon as all the sugar is dissolved, add unsweetened, unadulterated, flaked coconut to the syrup and let it sit for about a half hour to an hour until your kitchen smells like coconut.
Every Saturday for a couple summers in a row now, I’ve gotten herbs, baby bok choy, beans, and other greens from Vang Family Farm at Eastern Market. And every Saturday, I stare quizzically at the bumpy “Bitter Melon” bundled into packs of three with a rubber band and stacked neatly at the end of the table.
No longer.
Drawn in by its strange appearance — it looks like a brain mated with a cucumber — I bought my first bitter melons last Saturday. Not knowing where to begin, I took to the internet, where I discovered this particular gem:
Stir fry seemed like an easy, ideal preparation for my first foray into bitter melon, so a few days later, I surveyed the fridge and decided on a bitter melon stir fry with egg, shrimp, onion, garlic, and ginger. Aiming for something a bit more “Thai” tasting, I threw together a “sauce” of tamarind paste, fish sauce, soy, rice vinegar, siracha, and sugar.
Everything I read indicated that scooping out the spongy interior and the seeds was a “must,” but opinions were divided on the notion of parboiling or steaming the melons for a couple of minutes to remove some bitterness before frying. I figured I’d start out with the unadulterated melon, so we fried them without any prior heat treatment.
Accurately named, bitter melon is remarkably bitter. It’s not at all sharp like a grapefruit or charred like some coffee. Rather, it has a sort of dull, earthy, chalky bitterness that reminded me of a beer flavored excessively with Chinook hops. Larger pieces (and/or pieces with some of the white interior still clinging to the fruit) seemed to retain more bitterness throughout the process, which made sense.
We served it over rice and with some fresh cilantro on top, both of which were fine compliments. Next time, I might consider using pork to get some extra fat to help buffet the bitterness back a bit. That seems to be a common recipe combination for bitter melon online, and it certainly would hold back that chalky flavor more than shrimp and siracha.
Regardless, the bitterness after stir frying isn’t overwhelming by any stretch. I can understand why people sweat it with salt and cook it before completing the stir fry, but even without those measures, the bitter flavors are simply intense, not offensive.
While there appear to be no studies to corroborate the claims, many Asian countries ostensibly consider this fruit to be quite healthy. Regardless, while I’m in no rush to add bitter melon to my list of staple ingredients, I’ll be trying to use it more in the future. It’s truly unique and unquestionably interesting.
Several of my colleagues are in love with Hello Kitty.
In the 2 seconds it took to digest that sentence, you’ve surely thus realized that also means they’re in love with the color pink. So infatuated with both every shade of pink and every incarnation of Hello Kitty are they that the two are practically inseparable in my mind.
Thus when I came up with a drink so very vibrant and self-assured in its own pink-ness, I had to come up with some kind of title that properly honored these friends of mine.
The Bitter Kitty: A Campari Swizzle of Sorts
I prepared this drink for the GU Detroit picnic this year, and over the past few weeks, I’ve had a few people ask for the recipe. So I figured it’d be worth posting here. (In fact, I’d actually already posted this recipe, but since that time, I’ve altered it a bit and greatly prefer the newest version.)
Mess with the preparation notes at your own risk. I use my own homemade falernum in this drink, which is heavily rum based, so that’s basically more than 2.5 ounces of hooch. Without that dilution from swizzling or shaking, this gets aggressively boozy. Of course, when properly diluted and chilled, it’s poundably quaffable, and you’ll be drunk as hell in no time. Not that such a state of being is a problem.
Enjoy!
This post originally appeared on the Sugar House blog of cocktails and other things that start with the word cock.
Sweet Lo Jay told me a while back about an arugula gimlet he had at the library bar in LA. I tried to make it a few times, but was always sorta disappointed. Sure, it tasted okay, but arugula isn’t something that can be easily muddled (compared to say mint or cilantro), so I never really achieved a strong arugula flavor.
Two weeks ago Brother Nature, a CSA a few blocks from the bar, returned to Eastern Market, selling their exotic greens by the pound. This stuff is insane – tons of varieties and beyond spicy. Tastes like flaming hot cheetos, without the cheetos part, in the best possible way. I figgered I’d take another pass and see what’s what.
Arugula Gimlet
2 oz. Gin
.25 oz. Green Chartreuse
.5 oz. Demerara
.5 oz. Lime
Small Handful Mixed Greens
Muddle the greens in the lime and sugar. Add the gin, chartreuse and ice. Shake, double strain, garnish.
Here’s a tip… If you muddle both green and purple leaves in your drink, it ends up looking like poop soup. Which maybe – but probably isn’t – the look you are going for.
Suz went to try out Bikram Yoga somewhere tonight on some sort of trial basis. She enjoyed it. Sounds like living hell to me. Free or not, my ass is remaining firmly planted on the couch or behind the home bar.
Regardless, while working on some freelance projects, I decided that her extended absence meant it was a perfect night to experiment with some drinks. After all, I’ve been writing about natural meats, traveling in Texas, and cellared wines. It feels wrong to go two weeks without a blog post on making cocktails. Really, really wrong.
Bitter Kitty
I had a great campari swizzle in Austin, TX, and I wanted to make something similar but a bit more citrusy, since that’s what first drew me to cocktails. This is the result. It’s tart and bitter with a crazy bit of spice at the end. I shake it and strain it over crushed ice like a swizzle.
Silk Boxers
The first thought I had when trying this drink, shaken and served up, was that it was surprisingly silky for a drink with three-quarters an ounce of lime juice in it. So the “Silk Boxers” was born. A quick Google search found a few disgusting party shot recipes with the same name, but screw those guys. You deserve to have your drink reclaimed if your drink sucks. I’m a sucker for all of these ingredients, and they’re working for me together.
Cheers!
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, though it’s also my most commonly forgone.
Or somewhat often, a weekend may see me eat a bagel, a scone, a bowl of Simply Suzanne granola.
This morning, though, I found myself craving something substantial. Digging through the kitchen, I found a few ambulatory balls of Tribble-like fur, some lunch meat of questionable province, and not much else. The salvage total read like this: A freezer burned half loaf of bread, 3 eggs, half an onion, and left over cider-braised beef from dinner at Grange.
Sounded vaguely like time for some “steak and eggs.”
So I heated the beef, cooked the onion, and added them with some dried basil, thyme, salt, and red pepper flakes to some beaten egg whites, discarding the yolks. Then I poured the mixture into two medium-sized pastry cutters set into a pan of olive oil. I cooked them slowly over low-medium heat to get them to set up into little egg-beef cakes. Those went onto two slices of toasted all-grain bread with some olive oil and a bit of white balsamic.
The results? Amazing. One of the better spontaneous lunch or breakfast meals I’ve made. I suggest you give it a go. That is, if you happen to have some stale bread and left over cider-braised beef sitting about.
Deadwood, the HBO series that I’m finally getting around to watching, has been on constant playback in my house of late. So I’ve been drinking an awful lot of whiskey. What better way to turn an otherwise passive television experience into an interactive one?
But when Sazeracs, Old Fashioneds, and straight up bourbon aren’t cutting it, I’ve also been tinkering with some new ideas as well.
Variations
Tentatively and uncreatively titled “Rumbaroni,” we have:
Foams
Fairly famous west coast bartender Jamie Boudreau invented a drink at his former place of employment, Vessel, called the Vessel 75. The drink is stirred bourbon and Peychaud’s served in an old fashioned glass and topped with a foam made of egg whites, water, lemon juice, and maple syrup. Having just acquired an iSi cream canister, I made a couple to excellent results.
But then it got me thinking about other possible variations. Here’s my first stab, a delicious but yet-to-be-perfected variation on the Mojito / Gin-Gin Mule theme.
Thoroughly Modern Mojito
Coffee and Coffee Syrup
My friend John shared with me some coffee syrup he used to re-create a drink he had at the Violet Hour in Chicago. Here’s our effort at duplicating it:
Still having tons of syrup left, I’ve played around a bit more. Thus far, my favorite original drink using the syrup is as follows:
I also took a stab at a few coffee-based drinks, one of which I’ll mention here.
This post originally appeared on simmer down! (a food lover’s blog).
In my last post I alluded to a picnic with some fellow Detroit gourmands, some of whom I introduced to you in this post. We’re a growing group, and we decided to have a potluck picnic on Belle Isle as an excuse to eat, drink and get to know each other a little better. Molly and Todd scoped out the perfect spot under some willow trees, on the banks of the Detroit river with a view of the city.
Knowing this group, I had high expectations, but wow… I have to say I was pretty blown away by how much everyone put into it. Dave (aka Captain McBoozy), James and Evan ruled the drinks department- Dave made a Rhubarb Rum Punch and some Prescription Juleps, Evan brought a chartreuse-and-pineapple juice concoction, and James (our resident coffee-roaster and token Romanian-American) made a fabulous cocktail with cold-brewed coffee, vodka, passionfruit syrup and Romanian mountain mint.
The food was no less spectacular… I displayed an incredible amount of willpower and paced myself perfectly so that I was able to nibble and sip on and off all day while never feeling uncomfortably full or overly tipsy. This was no small feat, since it was pretty much a spread to end all spreads. My contributions were a big bowl of chlodnik and a mess of honey, cumin & lime-marinated grilled chicken (grilling courtesy of Todd, thanks dude!). The rest of the food I almost hesitate to list for fear of inadvertently leaving someone out, but there were homemade sausages, pizza on the grill (organic dough courtesy of Strawberry Moon in Ferndale), Vietnamese fresh rolls, an Israeli couscous salad with shrimp (don’t tell the rabbi!), bruschetta, gazpacho, Korean beef tartare lettuce wraps, grilled steak with arugula, a huge bowl of guac, and an assortment of gourmet ice cream courtesy of Jeni’s Ice Creams in Columbus. Jarred also brought an assortment of wines provided by Western Market- score!
We whiled away the afternoon until it slipped into evening, and somehow managed to dispatch almost all of the food. We were even making ham sandwiches towards the end of the day, with leftover marble rye, mustard, and some J&M German bacon (not really “bacon”; more like the best ham you’ve ever had). As the sun set over the city, we packed up our belongings and mused about how perfect the day had been, and wondered aloud how soon we could do another picnic.
Back to the chicken- this isn’t the first time I’ve made this chicken, but I usually make it with wings for a better meat-to-marinade ratio. The drumsticks weren’t bad, but I think I’ll revert to using wings from now on. It was hard to “name” this recipe because all of the marinade ingredients are bold and prominent- the sweet-tart punch of honey and lime, the toasty warmth of the cumin and cayenne, and the savory hit of garlic all contribute to a sauce that sings with flavor. The elements are inspired by Middle Eastern cuisine (in fact, once or twice I’ve added a pinch of cinnamon), but I’ve never had anything like it in a restaurant or come across any similar recipes in any cookbooks or blogs, so for now I’ll claim it as my own. We couldn’t do this at the picnic, but if you’re near a stove, the leftover marinade (boiled and reduced) makes a killer dipping sauce.
To see the full set of photos from the picnic, check out my flickr set.
Honey, Cumin & Lime Grilled Chicken
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4-5 lbs chicken wings (or drumsticks), preferably free-range or organic
1 cup freshly squeezed lime juice (4 large limes should yield this, unless they are particularly dry)
2 Tbs honey
1 Tbs ground cumin (seeds toasted & freshly ground if possible)
½ tsp cayenne (or more if you like it spicy)
2 Tbs minced garlic (2-4 cloves depending on size)
1 tsp kosher salt
2 Tbs olive oilCombine marinade ingredients in a small bowl or glass measuring cup, stirring to dissolve the honey. Taste to see that the sweet/sour flavors are balanced. It should taste pretty pucker-inducing, but the heat will tame some of the acidity. Taste for spiciness as well, adding cayenne as you see fit.
Wash and pat the chicken dry. Place in a sturdy Ziploc-type bag with the marinade and seal, expelling as much air as possible. Marinate for at least an hour, longer if possible.
Grill the chicken over medium heat, turning frequently and basting often with the marinade (this should take about 15-20 minutes for wings; slightly longer for drumsticks. If unsure, use a meat thermometer and cook to 160°). If you like, boil down any remaining marinade on the stove until slightly thickened and use as a dipping sauce.