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| 8 hours later |
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| Fresh banana peel |
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| 8 hours later |
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| Fresh banana peel |
I should probably read less, because sometimes reading gets me in trouble - especially if I'm reading about food and drinks. I read an article about tacos al pastor, and suddenly I'm trying to source ancho chiles and achiote powder. Or I read about re-purposing banana peels by turning them into simple syrup, and then I have a fridge full of banana sludge (more on that next week). Over Christmas, I read an article about savory cocktail ingredients, specifically using garum as a seasoning agent in cocktails. Garums are essentially ancient fish sauces (they can be made from lots of different matter however, including beef or mushrooms) that are made by fermenting proteins in their own enzymes (sometimes with koji added).
I understand if throwing fermented anchovy guts into a cocktail sounds gross, but the people in the article swore by the process (LINK). That was intriguing enough to get me started searching for recipes. I read through a few, and I found that most of the creators made their way to garums through the Noma Guide to Fermentation. With my curiosity sparked, I spent the better part of my Christmas break reading the 300+ page reference library of a book, learning about techniques I'd never have the time or space to master. It was a fun learning experience, but I ended up just buying some high quality colatura di alici (Italian fish sauce) instead of dropping $400 trying to make a home fermentation rig with buckets of meat slop. Maybe not the best overall use of my time, but at least I didn't add a greenhouse rig to the garage to harvest barley spores for fermenting.
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| Failed Batters |
But was this just Stockholm syndrome? Had we invested too many hours into making garums work and trick ourselves into thinking that they added anything? Happily, I can report that I made another batch of Nui Nuis at our last club, when we had a few extra visitors. Despite being completely grossed out at the thought of adding fish sauce to a drink, our guests both preferred the garum dosed version, and finished their whole drinks happily. Add the gut sauce, you won't regret it!
Ingredients: 2 oz rum (I used a blend of .75 oz aged Jamaican pot still rum, .75 oz Haitian column still rum, and .5 oz Charanda blanco), 1 oz orange juice, .75 oz cinnamon syrup*, .75 oz lime juice, .25 oz allspice dram, .25 oz vanilla syrup**, less than one half barspoon of fish sauce (between 1/8 and 1/16 oz), tiki bitters.Preparation: To make the Cinnamon Syrup - add two cinnamon sticks, roughly broken (not pulverized) to .75 cup of sugar and an equal amount of water (by weight). Allow to simmer on stove until sugar is completely dissolved, then remove from heat and allow to steep for 30 minutes until cool. Strain and bottle.
Combine all ingredients except the bitters in a Boston shaker with ice. Shake and strain into a Pearl Diver glass filled with crushed ice, and add bitters to top. Garnish with a lit cinnamon stick or (if the fish scent is too strong) a bouquet of mint.
If I've learned anything from The Cocktail Codex, it is that there are really only a few unique types of drinks out there. The folks from Death and Co. list their six fundamental drinks as: 1) the old fashioned 2) the martini 3) the daiquiri 4) the sidecar 5) the whiskey highball and 6) the flip (I'm still working on mastering a flip I really love - drinking whole egg is tough - but keep an eye out in this space for one made with sweetened condensed milk coming soon). Understanding these "mother" drinks makes creating new variations easier, and it also makes me less hard on myself when my ingenious creation is just common "well" drink with a new spirit. If there is really nothing that new, then why be mad that I didn't come up with a 10 ingredient bespoke drink? Why not just swap out vodka for Ancho Reyes, fancy it up with some Tajin and a muddled jalapeno coin, and call it a day?
That was the inspiration for the drink this month, La Mula Verde (literally the green mule, but it can also be a green tough guy, - helpful to remember if you're afraid of spice!). This drink takes the classic Moscow Mule formula, and subs out vodka in favor of Ancho Reyes liqueur. Ancho Reyes comes in Original (using fully ripe ancho chiles that are sun dried) or Verde (using immature chiles that are fire roasted and mashed). Either works for this recipe, but I find that the earthy, vegetal notes of the Ancho Verde pair nicely with ginger beer and lime. For an extra kick, you can amp up the flavors of the drink by muddling a jalapeno coin and a lime wedge before pouring your highball and/or crust the rim with Tajin. In the instructions below, I'll do both.
Looking for an accompaniment for your drink? I've been on a salsa verde kick for the last few months, and I'm pretty happy with my oven roasted recipe, which you will also find below. This recipe makes excellent chilaquiles (another food product that comes in green or red!). Instead of avocado toast and mimosas for your next brunch party, why not make chilaquiles verde with la mula verde instead? Afterall, variety is the spice of life (and Tajin is the spice on the rim of your drink).
Ingredients: 1.5 oz Ancho Reyes (original or verde), 4 oz ginger beer (Goslings preferred), lime wedge, jalapeno coin, Tajin for rim.
Preparation: Slice the lime wedge down the middle and run the cut ends around your glassware (clay mug if you have it, otherwise a Moscow Mule mug or a highball glass). Sprinkle Tajin on the now moistened exterior of the mug. Put the used lime wedge and a jalapeno coin into your vessel and lightly muddle. Add Ancho Reyes (add up to .25 oz lime juice as well, to taste) and top with ginger beer. Add ice to fill glass and serve.
Notes: Note the option to add lime to taste. Too much and you overwhelm the ginger beer, but I do enjoy a little extra lime in my life. And use your own favorite ginger beer, but stray away from ones that are very ginger forward (Q) or overly sweet (Reeds).
Bonus: Here's a brunch pairing for your La Mula Verde. To make my salsa verde, start with the following ingredients: 12 tomatillos (husked and cut in half), 2 medium jalapenos (stemmed and seeded), 2 serrano peppers (stemmed and seeded), one half onion (peeled, quartered), 3 cloves garlic (peeled and smashed), .25 cup cilantro leaves (stemmed, tightly packed), juice of two limes, 1 tsp coarse sea salt. Prepare the ingredients as indicated above. On a roasting pan, place tomatillos, peppers, onion, and garlic. Set oven to broil and roast ingredients for five minutes. Flip and return to broiler for five additional minutes. Put remaining ingredients in a blender, add roasted vegetables and their juices, and pulse until smooth. Store overnight in refrigerator before serving, ideally over old tortilla chips (because chilaquiles is delicious). If no vegans are around, then top it with a fried egg and come crumbled cotija cheese for a magical brunch.A happy new year to all five of my dedicated followers. My New Year's resolution this year was to do more writing, and that means a return to the blog - among other efforts. Careful observers may have noticed a concrete life event that precipitated my writing falling off a cliff - the arrival of my second child (born July 2020) in the midst of early COVID isolation. Two children, global pandemics, two parents trying to work from home with a very active three year old and infant, and supply chain shortages meant that my opportunities for creative drinking fell by the wayside for some time.
With some creativity in the early pandemic months, we were able to resume our cocktail club, even if that meant meeting in partially open garages in the middle of winter. And as the world has opened back up, we've managed some pretty excellent creations. If only I'd written them all down! A few things I picked up over the past few years that will likely be featured in the coming months:
1) I like gin now. The cocktail club rejoices. I still don't like Campari though, so don't look for a Negroni recipe any time soon. However, variations on the Gin Fitzgerald are common in the bar, including this month's recipe.
2) Did you know rice washing was a thing? I think rice washing makes everything better, more to come on this.
3) You can make a syrup out of almost anything. My personal favorite odd syrup ingredient is fennel fronds, which also feature in the recipe for this month.
4) My efforts at making a sourdough started during COVID cratered quickly, but I've found a use for many other ferments in the bar. Funky old fish sauce punches up tiki drinks in amazing ways, who knew!
5) We just began dabbling in fat washing. My first attempt was a whole cocktail that was milk washed. It, um, didn't go well. We sat for an hour and waited for milk solids to strain out of a clarified cocktail, and all I got was a heavy cream drink with a little wine float. Going to work on this some more, maybe starting a little more basic with a bacon wash and moving on from there.
I hope that gives you a small taste of what is to come for the next few months. For today, I'm featuring a Bar Kiley special, the Nine Herbs Charm. Named for an old Anglo-Saxon healing incantation, the drink features fennel, chamomile, and juniper. Juniper isn't one of the nine herbs in the charm (fennel and chamomile are), but its English as heck, so it worked in my head. If you feel the need to add crabapple, mugwort, nettle, and others for authenticity, be my guest. The drink is a play on the Fitzgerald formula (a gin sour with 2 oz gin, .75 oz simple syrup, .75 oz lemon, and 3-5 dashes of bitters), and makes great use of discarded fennel fronds left over from your latest meal. This was one of the recipes we gifted to the Imfelds at their wedding shower (along with the Mrs. Rita), and I hope you enjoy it too!
Ingredients: 2 oz gin (Drumshanbo Gunpowder Irish Gin preferred), 0.75 oz lemon, 0.75 oz fennel syrup (see notes), 3-4 dashes chamomile bitters.
Preparation: Combine all ingredients in a Boston shaker over ice. Shake and strain into a Nick and Nora glass, garnish with a dehydrated orange wheel.
Notes: To make the fennel syrup, you will want the tops and fronds from one bulb of fennel. Save the lower bulb for making an awesome pasta sauce or for your next taco night. In a saucepan, combine 1.5 cups of water with an equal weight of sugar. Bring to a simmer until the sugar is completely dissolved. Add the fennel fronds, simmer for four minutes, and then remover from heat. Allow to completely cool, then strain out fronds using fine mesh and cheese cloth. Syrup will keep for 2-4 weeks.
If you'd like to watch the video, you can find it here: https://vimeo.com/427125156 (I'll be awaiting my call, Next Food Network Star). The whole series can be found on the parish vimeo page (I also make a "Scofflaw" (rye, dry vermouth, grenadine, lime, orange bitters), Navy Grog, French 75, and a Last Word). For now, try out the Casanier, which was my first experiment in using grape juice in place of sweet vermouth (for shelf stability reasons).
For now, here is the recipe for the Mrs. Rita - a simple, smoky drink with a savory backbone that sips
Happy quarantine month two everyone! I've been very envious of my friends without kids during this time - friend of the blog Zack has been incredibly industrious during his time apart, testing out different shrubs, citrus-cellos, bitters, and oleos. I've had time to make... one batch of juniper syrup, using dried juniper berries that I bought back in November. Our little person has decided to push back his bed time, so our adult time has been slightly curtailed (and we're still working during the day, thankfully). However, our new normal doesn't leave a lot of time for bar exploration (and my normal drinking partner is pregnant, so I'm drinking for one).
We've self-isolated pretty hard with Ann being pregnant. That means I'm drinking alone, if I choose to visit the bar. I'm sure I'll get more playful as our isolation stretches out, finding weird or unique ingredients on Amazon or Cocktail Kingdom. But for now, I wanted something simple and comforting. My drink this month was the last cocktail I had out in the wide world - a Lynchburg Lemonade. Fat Cam's called it something different (so that they didn't have to use Jack Daniel's), but the simple combination of lemon-lime soda, lemon, triple sec, and whiskey is easy to make and incredibly refreshing - until I ran out of lemons (I caved and bought shelf-stable lemon juice late last week). And even my pregnant, whiskey-hating wife took a (small) sip and admitted she didn't hate it. High praise from Ann!
In order to allow Ann to still join in on the fun, my cocktail club spent the month of February playing with shrubs and other low/no ABV options. According to the various publications that I read, the "sober curious" movement is growing. One way to get interesting flavors without using alcohol is with shrubs, sometimes know as "drinking vinegars." There is also a whole range of new "alcohol substitutes" available on the market, the granddaddy of which is Seedlip. For this month's concoction, we combined both of these alcohol-free options to make a pretty tasty little drink that even the pregnant ladies can get behind. This is definitely a case of a drink that is "greater than the sum of its parts." One of our club members described my bottle of Seelip Grove as "herbal hint water," but when combined with the kiwi shrub, it made something magical (we tried swapping Seedlip for gin later, and somehow the "herbal hint water" version was better!).
Our renters' gift allowed me to play down in the bar one night, and the result was a pretty tasty bubbly drink - just in time for New Years! It is a mix of sweet (passion fruit & simple syrup), sour (lime and passion fruit again), bitter (grapefruit), and dry (champagne). It's a lot all in one glass, but the tropical flavors all pair well, and champagne bubbles keep it light, and there is a strong backbone of vodka to keep it boozy enough. This is what I'll be drinking on NYE if I have my way!![]() |
| Showstopper! |
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| Photo Credit: Ann Kiley |
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| "Scientific Method" Round 2 |
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| "Scientific Method" Round 1 |
So there you go! Why not make one at home if you have the freezer space? Note: the recipe is for a batch, as freezing individual drinks is a foolish venture (and since breaking up the slush with a spoon is half the fun of making these drinks):
When deciding on what to do with the Sotol, we borrowed from some of our old favorite recipes. I had just made a batch of hibiscus-habanero syrup for a frozen watermelon cocktail a few days before. The heat from the syrup and the sweet and floral hibiscus complimented the smoke and vegital notes in the Sotol, similar to the way the hibiscus and Signani play in the Blade. Add a little lime, and we were fairly well satisfied with our initial attempt. However, for the sake of science, we played a bit. Remembering one of our favorite original drinks, the Smoke on the Water...Melon, we tweaked the drink by adding a pinch of sea salt. The salt livened up the flavors nicely, but we were still having trouble finding the hibiscus (the syrup I made was admittedly on the spicy side, but I liked it!). Zack had recently acquired a few "Fruitlab" bottles from Greenbar Distillery in LA, including a hibiscus liqueur. We added just enough to make the hibiscus stand out, and declared ourselves satisfied.
The first success story from this process began with a bottle of Wood Smoked Apple Spirit (called Fumus Pumila) from the Baltimore Spirits Co. We both enjoyed the apple brandy, and it lived up to the name - it was smoky as heck! Almost to the point where you could lose the apple flavor, but that was more of a problem from me than it was for Zack. We added ginger liqueur to the mix (who doesn't love apple and ginger?), lime juice, sparkling cider, and a little simple syrup (stuck on flavor combinations? I've been using the Flavor Bible more to help me with ideas). The result was tasty, but very smoky - and not terribly "apple-y," despite the addition of the cider.
Since the drink is defined by the ice used in preparation, I had to get this right! I inherited a late-60s era ice crushing machine from Ann's grandfather, and I debated breaking out that bad boy for the project... but the last time I brought this particular model to the club, it was mocked pretty substantially (it still works, but VERY slowly). I also have a Lewis bag, which is a canvas bag used in conjunction with a mallet to crush ice - but the resulting crushed ice is fairly inconsistently sized. Instead of settling on any of these options, I decided to go for maximum uniformity, and did something silly - I went to my favorite gas station and bought five 44 oz Styrofoam cups full of "pebble ice" for the reasonable sum of $2.50 (50 cents a cup). Pebble ice is perfect for swizzles, as it is consistent in size and results in a dense fill. It is also fun to eat, if that is you jam (and it is very much my jam). My giant Styrofoam cups ended up being mocked just as much as Ann's grandpa's ancient ice machine, but no one was disappointed with the finished product, a swizzle recipe from Imbibe called the Schwifty Swizzle that combines mezcal, falernum, lime, and Green Chartreuse. Try the recipe below, and let me know if you splurge on the ice - it is worth it!There is an old axiom: never let your idiot friends name your drinks when they are sleep deprived and watching old Marvel movies. Blade is made from hibiscus syrup (more on that in a moment), so it has a really pretty ruby hue. Hypothetically, if you and your friend are both sleep deprived because of travel and small children AND you happen to be watching the 1998 super hero/horror classic Blade, you may be tempted to imagine your drink as a goblet of blood, and name the tipple in honor of the movie. But that would be an incredibly dumb name, so no matter what you do, you should probably never promise your friend that they can name the drink you’ve handed them. Otherwise you’ll end up writing a 150 word essay in a cocktail book on why your drink has such a dumb name…. hypothetically.
I intensely dislike naming drinks because my naming conventions often come down to terrible puns, and no one needs more of those in their lives. With that as a given, I'm going to leave the name of the D'Angelo shrouded in mystery. I will say that it is an homage to one of the worst professors I ever had at Notre Dame, but the drink has nothing to do with her personality, subject matter expertise, or dress. It was a name association/pun, which I had better keep to myself in order to continue to project an aura of mystique.