Until a few years ago.

My friend Noelle has written about a similar transition she made as a result of some cauliflower I made at a dinner party about a year back, and I have to say, that recipe is still one of my own favorite ways of preparing it. I decided to make it tonight, so despite our somewhat unintended decision to not frequently do recipe write ups here, I’m throwing down a recipe post.

Ingredients

• Shocker, I know, but you need a head of cauliflower
• A tablespoon or three of capers
• 1-3 medium sized cloves of garlic to taste
• 2+ tablespoons olive oil
• 2-3 table spoons white balsamic vinegar… or not.
  Note: Any white vinegar can do here, but the higher the acid flavor, the more you might need to cut back on it or add more oil to diminish the intensity. I’d even so far as to add a pinch of sugar if it seems too bright.
• Salt and pepper

Cookery & Shit

• Fair warning: I don’t generally measure anything except when baking or making ice cream, so the quantities here are kind of made up.
• Pre-heat the oven to 450 F
• Cut or pull the cauliflower apart into florets. Not too small, or they just get soggy between the long cooking and the dressing later.
• Toss it in olive oil inside a baking pan of some kind until gently but entirely coated.
• Roast the veggies for about 15 minutes or so, pull them out, toss them around a bit, and get them right back in there for another 10-15 minutes.
• While that’s cooking, mince the living shit out of that garlic. I mean, cut that up like the garlic ran over your dog or your sister or something. It’s not getting cooked, so fineness is key. And use less if you don’t love garlic. (Duh.)
• Mix the garlic in a bowl with the remaining olive oil and the vinegar. It should be a bit acidic but, especially if using the balsamic, very round in flavor. This part is really just a balancing act, and you need to balance it to your taste.
• Mix in the capers. I use a fairly immodest palm full of the little guys because the briny flavor is what actually makes this whole dish go. But whatever you want.
• Season the dressing with salt and pepper.
• When the cauliflower’s done, toss it with the dressing.
  Words of caution: (a) Don’t toss it too much because the capers will fall to the bottom of the bowl, and you want to EAT THE CAPERS because they are DELICIOUS and (b) don’t use all the liquid dressing if it looks like it’s too much. I mean, that’s obvious, but still. Soggy cauliflower is sad cauliflower.
• Serve it up to your guests, who will probably take one little floret just to be polite, and then they’ll eat it, say nice things to you, and take more. (If that doesn’t happen, you have quite probably screwed the whole thing up.)

I wouldn’t be so brazen in extolling the virtues of this super simple cauliflower dish except that: (a) Noelle and about 4 other people really, really seemed to like it, so I know I’m not alone, and (b) I realized in trying the cauliflower at Girl & the Goat that the principle behind this is really quite sound: roasting earthy veggies and giving them bright accent flavors kicks ass. Mine is nowhere near as good as Stephanie Izard’s, of course (she puts pickled peppers and mint in it… mad genius) but it has the same general idea behind it. And it’s a good fucking idea.

Hope you actually enjoy it as much as I do! Now I’m going to finish my delish Beaujolais. How’s that for a Wednesday?

Mocha Flip

• 2 oz El Dorado 12 year aged rum
• .5 oz creme de cacao
• .5 oz coffee syrup*
• .5 oz milk
• Whole egg
• A chunk of dark chocolate
• Chocolate bitters (optional)

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.)

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

• .75 oz aged rum (not too flavorful – in this case, I used Appleton 12)
• .75 oz white rum
• .75 oz lime juice
• .5 oz yellow chartreuse
• .5 oz coconut syrup
• Absinthe
• 1 egg white
• Peychaud’s bitters

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.

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.

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

• 1.5 oz white rum (I used Mt. Gay)
• .75 oz lemon juice
• .5 oz falernum (I made my own, but look for Velvet Falernum)
• .5 oz Campari
• .25 oz lemoncello (I used Luxardo)
• Prepare as you would a swizzle, which is to say the ingredients should be added to a glass with crushed ice and stirred until the glass has acquired a frosty chill.
• Alternatively, if you’re not in the mood to crush ice, you can simply shake the ingredients and pour over a few large ice cubes.

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!

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.

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

• 1.5 oz white rum
• .75 oz Campari
• .75 oz lemon juice
• .5 oz limoncello
• .5 oz falernum

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

• 1.5 oz Zaya aged rum
• .75 oz Rothman & Winter Orchard Apricot
• .75 oz lime juice
• .5 oz falernum

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!

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.

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:

• 1 oz aged rum
• 1 oz Carpano Antica
• 1 oz Zucca rhubarb amaro
• Stir with ice, strain, serve over up or on the rocks with orange twist
• This is pretty much awesome.

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

• Muddle mint with a modest dollop of 2:1 simple syrup and Bob’s Peppermint Bitters
• Add to that 3 oz aged rum
• Stir with ice and strain into an old fashioned glass
• Apply a ginger-lime foam to the top
• Garnish with fresh mint
• The foam as currently constructed, using very similar proportions to Boudreau’s maple foam, is too loose.  The ginger syrup was too strong in flavor and too watery in body.  With a bit of adjustment there, I think this will be in great shape.

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:

• 1 oz blackstrap rum
• 1 oz tawny port
• .5 oz coffee syrup
• Whole egg
• Shaken, served down, grated fresh nutmeg over the top

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:

• 1 oz cognac
• 1 oz rye
• .5 oz coffee syrup
• .25 oz maraschino
• 3 drops lemon juice
• Stirred and strained

I also took a stab at a few coffee-based drinks, one of which I’ll mention here.

• 1.5 oz aged rum
• .5 oz green chartreuse
• 1 oz room temp coffee
• .5 oz pineapple juice
• Shaken, served down
• The proportions could stand to get some adjusting, but on the whole, this crazy thing is actually pretty good

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
printer-friendly version

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 oil

Combine 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.