Take your New Year’s Eve party up a notch (if that’s possible–knowing the readers and pals I have, your New Year’s Eve parties are already notched up so high the belt might break. But even so, you still might like a new New Year’s bubbly beauty) with the Valencia, a drink I think sounds like it refers to an old, but somewhat shadily classy, apartment house, probably a brick brownstone, where the serious parties have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen as long as we’re lucky to walk and drink on this earth. Valencia the drink contains a captivating combination of apricot brandy, orange juice, orange bitters, and Champagne or sparkling wine (the latter being why it’s so fitting for the last day in December). In the below video, which is posted via the fine folks at How2Heroes (a site you should check out if you like drinking and cooking videos) you can see me making one of these sparklers.
If that’s not enough, and if you really want to start your New Year right (or oddly), check out this video of me (also from How2Heroes) talking about how I got into cocktail love and booze-writing and all that liquor madness. I’m also wearing a pink tie and straw hat and name dropping the Essential Dr. Strange Volume I.
And if that’s not enough, know that I’m wishing you, from a distance, if not in person (though I wish I was), the happiest and most wonderfulest 2009 imaginable. And then some. Cheers!
As the holidays are almost here (yay!) and as it’s snowing like the Dickens (what does that mean, by the way? I mean, Charlie D wasn’t known for his weather-creation abilities was he? And did I really just call Mr. Dickens “Charlie D?” His ghost is gonna kick my ass), who knows how many posts will find their way up on this blog in the next few weeks. But don’t fret pals, the following drinks from the blogosphere will get you through the lean times in high fashion.
Gin Punch: Speaking of Dickens, Cocktail Chronicles is talking about Mr. Micawber and David Copperfield (one of my favs, if not as good in my opinion as, say, Great Expectations) and the hot gin punch recipe from the book (which I myself am pretty fond of, as you’d expect, me being all Dickens’ up) Drinking with Dickens. Whew, that was long-winded. Go read the recipe and blog–it’s much tastier.
Hot Buttered Rum: The rollicking ladies of LUPEC Boston are talking toddies, which only seems appropriate this time of chilly year. And, they’re also providing a really right on recipe (in that fine LUPEC style) for hot buttered rum, as well as a recipe for making holiday compound butter, which makes that very rum drink very much above the average. So, why not warm up?
Rutherglen’s Border Cocktail: It shouldn’t just be “oh it’s cold out” and “give me a hot drink” this time of year. Which is why I suggest heading over to SpiritsandCocktails for the festive Rutherglen’s Border Cocktail, which uses Cognac and Muscat (a dessert wine that mixes well in mixes) and pear and bitters (oh my). Not only will the post give you the recipe for this cocktail that’s a right fit for any swank seasonal soirée or meal’s end, but wow, the picture of it is dreamy, too.
People always feel bad about riding the pine (meaning, sitting on the bench during a sporting event), but golly, someone has to be there to support the team with yelling and clapping and general enthusiastic behavior right? Without that, how could those stars actually playing get the energy to keep at it? Because, everyone needs support now and then, and, for that matter, everyone needs to sit and take a load off now and then. Heck, even Captain Marvel (the red-costumed one) needed to be Billy Batson on occasion. And when you’re hanging out on the bench in support style, or hanging out to catch your breath for a bit, you should have a drink that’s named for this very scene. Or, named because I had some lovely fresh pineapple that I thought to use in a drink, and this name made sense in that situation cause of the “pine.” One of those two reasons.
The first sounds better, doesn’t it? Like I wasn’t just whipping together a drink, but really thinking deeply about what it means to be a supporter of star players, instead of actually a star, combined with what it means to take a break from stardom, and trying to distill those notions into an ideal liquid form. Now that, friends, is deep (a deep load of crap some might say, but those “some” are probably creepy teetotalers). And, sort-of a lie, because there wasn’t “one” ideal liquid form but two, as I made the drink two ways. The first was muddling up some fresh pineapple, then adding a bit of simple syrup, a touch of pineapple juice for juiciness, and some dark rum (I used Mount Gay Eclipse, cause I’m pretty fond of its mixability, though it’s not super dark–white rum could have been used, too, but the dark gave it a touch more flavor) and shaking it up. The second was adding all of the same, plus some ice, to a blender and blending it up. Wife Nat had an urge for a blended drink (even though it’s freakily freezing out here) and far be it from me to talk her out of it. Drinkers deserve what they want. Both versions, I have to say, came out darn delicious, and tropical, and warming all at once. Which is fitting for the “Riding the Pine” moniker (well, you’re probably dreaming of the tropics when there, and your hindquarters are warm, and the drink is delicious). This drink, probably, could have been called a “Pineapple Daiquiri” or some such. But that’d be awfully boring.
Riding the Pine #1
1/4 cup fresh pineapple, plus one or two cubes for garnish
Ice cubes
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1/4 fresh pineapple juice
2 ounces dark rum
1. Put the pineapple in a cocktail shaker. Using your favorite muddler, muddle well.
2. Fill the shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add everything else. Shake really well, and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a pineapple cube or two.
Riding the Pine #2
1/4 cup fresh pineapple, plus one or two cubes for garnish
Ice cubes
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1/2 fresh pineapple juice
2 ounces dark rum
1. Put all the ingredients in a blender. Blend well.
2. Pour the Pine into a chilled glass of your choice, or a cocktail glass, or a basketball cut in half (but only if it’s been well-cleaned). Garnish with a pineapple cube or two.
Okay, I can throw this out there for all the William Makepeace Thackeray fans to get up in arms about (cock your slings and arrows-delivering devices now): I’m not a huge fan of Vanity Fair. I mean, I like it all right. But Mr. Thackeray just doesn’t get me involved in the way other novelists (English novelists, two specifically, and if you’ve read this blog you can guess who I mean) do. He always feels like he’d sit in the corner at any party pooh-poohing the people laughing loudly and spilling peanuts on the floor. And I’m usually one of those people. But, I did buy some maraschino liqueur last Friday, and I do really love it, and at least like Vanity Fair better than, say, 92.3% of the books published last year. And I would thoroughly enjoy having someone administer maraschino to me. That sounds divine. So, this quote seemed well-timed:
“The cook was there with blackened face, seated on the beautiful chintz sofa by the side of Mrs. Raggles, to whom she was administering Maraschino.”
This holiday helper was created for a winter parties class I’m teaching tomorrow and Friday at the wonderful and worthy Dish It Up (if you’re in the Seattle area, or visiting, be sure to check them out not only for a wide range of kitchen gear, and kitchen classes, but also for their selection of wines). The class was featured in the most recent issue of Traditional Homes (cause we all know for a real traditional home, you need lots of booze), and I had to make up some new mixes (and snacks) for the occasion. Funny enough, when the creation took place it was summer (ah, those long-lead mags) and I was drinking and mixing with rosé quite a bit (a good dry rosé, like one from those madcap vintners at Trio, is a dandy mixer), which led to the rosé-backed Saint Nick’s Rosy Cheek.
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounces rosé wine (be sure to get an actual rosé and not a blush wine)
1 ounce citrus vodka
1/2 ounce simple syrup
2 dashes orange bitters
Maraschino cherry, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rosé, vodka, simple syrup, and bitters. Shake well.
2. Add the cherry to a cocktail glass, interesting cordial glass, or anything you won’t drop. Strain the mix over the cherry. Kiss Santa’s cheek.
I used Regan’s orange bitters here, and it worked wonders. I suggest you do the same. I like the little ting the citrus vodka brings, but think straight vodka would be good as well, and would be interested to try this with gin (I mean, I tend to like gin better anyway, but for some reason reached for the vodka originally. Now I feel sorta bad, like I’ve let gin down. Gin, I love you. Forgive me).
I have two quotes from John Betjeman’s jolly essay, “Unwise and Wise Drinking,” printed in The Complete Imbiber #1 (a collection any drinker should invest in, if they can find it. I pulled my copy from the basement shelves of a bookstore in York, England). These two seem ideal quotes to have at hand for the holidays. The first just in case you have a really vocal TT (teetotaler) at your holiday feast:
“I expect you know that story of the ancient and reverend head of an Oxford college, a man of few words and those remarkable. Someone had brought a guest to the high table who was a confirmed teetotaler. At the end of dinner he was offered a glass of port, and proclaimed in a loud voice ‘I would rather commit adultery than drink a glass of port.’ Then, that ancient and reverend head of the house broke the silence by saying ‘And who wouldn’t?’”
and the second to remind us not to forget the important “drink” part of the feast (though he doesn’t mention cocktails specifically, they should recognized as an “essential” part of any holiday meal along with the wine family):
“And there we are all ranged round the tables, how essential a part of the feast is the drink: sherry, the wines, and the port and brandy. What a beautiful procession they make, often so much better and more digestible than the food! How dull the feast would be without them. And how the tongues are loosed, the hearts warmed, the better qualities brought out . . .”
It’s almost become a cliché, how much I like the booze-fueled hot apple cider within the colder months (in that it’s utterly expected that when one walks into my house they’ll smell the cinnamon, apple, and rum on the air during holiday-season gatherings). But you know what? I think being a cliché is just fine (in this one instance that is. Don’t be calling me cliché any other time. Unless my love of genius British television character Dean Learner becomes a cliché. Which would be awesome, cause the world would be a better place if everyone, when asked what they loved, said “Dean Learner.” But I digress), when the word revolves around this cider recipe, which is from the GS. It’ll warm you and your guests (and works darn well as a pre-Thanksgiving-meal sipper, too. Especially in chilly KS, Jen, if you were wondering).
4 quarts fresh apple cider
20 ounces cinnamon schnapps
16 ounces white rum
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
10 cinnamon sticks
10 apple slice for garnish
1. Add the cider to a large nonreactive saucepan. Heat over medium heat for 5 to 10 minutes
2. Add the cinnamon schnapps, rum, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon sticks.Simmer for 15 minutes, but don’t let the mixture boil.
3. Once thoroughly warm, ladle the mixture into heatproof mugs, making sure that each mug gets a cinnamon stick. Garnish each with an apple slice.
A Note: Here are three things to remember: 1. Be careful with the cloves when scaling (meaning, too many cloves can take over the flavor). 2. Use apple cider (which is good and cloudy) not apple juice. 3. Boiling boils off some of the alcohol. If getting mistakenly to a boil, or leaving the cider on the stove for an extended period, add more rum as needed.
A Second Note: This may be too much cinnamon for some. I see no problem, for balance, in upping the rum.
Just two to make it through the weekend with (well, two plus the gazillion others you can get to via the links on the right and the electric byways of the web), but two fantastic mixes (and, by the way, let me officially blame my day job for only having two).
Jasper’s Jamaican Cocktail: There’s actually a recipe for the Lion’s Tale in this post from the mysterious and awfully artful Dr. Bamboo, as well as the jumping Jasper’s Jamaican Cocktail, so it’s really bringing the Friday total up to three. Both of these tasty tastes utilize St. Elizabeth Allspice Dram, which I’ve been enjoying lots–you should, too.
Greenbriar Cocktail: From the Underhill Lounge, where you’ll find one of the most dedicated bar-writing-and-sipping ideas of all time: going through the Savoy Cocktail Book one drink at a time. That’s just out-of-sight amazing. Sort of like this drink, which uses sherry, dry vermouth, mint, and peach bitters. Really.
