Leprechauns and Sunshine

Going on the premise that everyone is a little bit Irish on St. Patrick's Day, I thought some playing around with the bottle of Jameson Caskmates Irish whiskey would prepare me for celebrating on the 17th.  Having been aged in craft beer barrels, the Caskmates Stout edition has notes of cocoa, coffee, and butterscotch.

With Winter being the height of citrus season, I tend to have more than a fair share of oranges in the fruit bowl.   Orange and chocolate pair well, and with the chocolate bitters in the pantry, tools for a concoction were right at my fingertips.  This Saturday, don a little green, make some colcannon, and whip up this easy cocktail that I've dubbed...the Sunkissed Leprechaun.  A little Irish mixed with a dose of sunshine.

The Sunkissed Leprechaun

Makes 1 drink

1 oz Jameson Irish Whiskey (Stout Caskmates used)
2-3 oz orange juice
3 dashes chocolate bitters
orange slice for garnish, optional 
ice

On the three occasions when I made this drink, I did not use a cocktail shaker.  You absolutely could, if you wanted to.  I mixed the whiskey and bitters together in a glass, added the orange juice, mixed again, and added an ice cube or two.  If you use a shaker, mix all ingredients in shaker with ice, strain into glass and enjoy.

Broken Records

Another year coming to a close, another year where I'm still in the same rut, the same stagnant space, the same state of discontent.  You'd think I'd learn by now.  You think I'd set goals that were more concrete, more specific...so much less nebulous.

It's the last Tuesday of December, the last Tuesday of 2014...it is a cold, blustery night in Los Angeles.  The weather widget on my phone says that at 8:15pm, it is 49 degrees, but with the winds, feels like 39 degrees.  Cold.  Can I take these winds as a sign?  A sign that I'm finally ready to blow all the crap out of my life...make definitive goals, figure out where it is I really want to go, and stop thinking that life will fall into place by a magical snap of my fingers.  I don't expect 2015 to kick off without a few bumps and rough starts, but I do expect 2015 to turn into an infinitely more productive year than 2014, 2013, and even 2012.  That's a lot of time.  I have a lot of making up to do.

But before I get to work, there needs to be a drink.  A drink to say, 'so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye' to 2014 and all the fear, anxiety, and unhappiness I have poured into too many of its 365 days.  Bring out the bubbly, let's toast to a new year where I worry less, see more sun than clouds, see more good in me than bad, and appreciate the person I am, instead of sinking so much energy berating myself for what I'm not.

Let me be the first to wish you a happy new year...a truly fulfilling 2015.


A New Leaf Cocktail
Makes 2

6 fl oz cava (though Champagne or prosecco will do)
2 fl oz sweet vermouth
2 tbsp citrus simple syrup
2 tbsp fig jam
4 fl oz orange juice, fresh squeezed (about 2 medium oranges)
orange peel for garnish

In a small lidded jar or cocktail shaker, add the orange juice and fig jam.  Shake vigorously to break down the jam.  If you think you've shaken enough, shake more.  With each coupe glass, rub a strip of orange peel along the rims to transfer some of the oils to the glasses.  Into each glass, pour 1 oz vermouth, 1 tablespoon of the citrus syrup, and 2 oz of the orange and fig juice.  Stir to mix well.  Top each glass with 3 oz of cava and garnish with orange peel.

Note:  The citrus syrup is something I had left from making candied citrus peel a couple of weeks ago.  You can substitute simple syrup or make your own syrup with the peel from one medium orange (pith removed), 1 cup water, and one cup sugar.  Bring to a simmer, stirring to make sure the sugar dissolves, then simmer over low heat for 10-15 minutes.  Strain peel and store in refrigerator.  

Hiding in the Shrubs

Up until a couple of years ago, the only definition I knew for 'shrub' was something along the lines of 'a woody plant smaller than a tree.'  Thanks, Dictionary.com.  A shrub was something green, generally round, and bordered your property line or was planted in neat rows down the length of your driveway.  Then I discovered a whole new definition:  '...a sweetened vinegar-based syrup, a drinking vinegar...often infused with fruit juice, herbs, and spices for use in mixed drinks.'  My first reaction?  'Hell, yes, count me in!'

So it was the October 2012 issue of Sunset magazine where I first discovered this mysterious shrub.  Considering how I've rarely used vinegar for more than salad dressings or for pickling, I was very interested in trying it.  The Sunset recipe is for a cranberry shrub and since it was perfect for Fall, I jumped right into making it.  Happily, it's easy-peasy to make and it truly is a great mixer for cocktails.  I also love drinking them as a soda, where one part shrub to 2 parts sparkling water or club soda on ice is a treat.

1've used the Sunset magazine recipe as my base for the shrubs since that first time.  Over the past couple of years, there has been cranberry, raspberry, Italian prune plum, and the latest incarnation...gala apple.  A little swap of apple cider vinegar for the red wine vinegar, the addition of an overripe Bartlett pear, and this mix is so, so, so perfect for Fall.  I also took it upon myself to make a little Fall cocktail that's perfect for sharing.


Gala Apple Shrub
Adapted from the Sunset recipe
Makes about 2 1/2 cups

3-4 Gala apples, cut into small pieces 
1 pear, cut into small pieces
1 cup sugar 
3/4 cup apple cider vinegar
2 cups water

In a medium saucepan, add all the ingredients and bring to a low boil over medium heat.  Stir occasionally and with the back of the spoon, smash the fruit as much as you can.  Let simmer for about 10-15 minutes, making sure all the sugar has dissolved.  Place a fine mesh sieve or a medium size bowl and pour the shrub into the bowl.  Let the shrub drain and press the fruit to get as much liquid from them as you can.  Allow to cool, then store in a bottle in the fridge.  Lasts at least 2 weeks.

Note:  You don't need to peel the apples or pear.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apple & Rye
Serves 2 (and maybe a wee bit more)

1 fl. oz ginger simple syrup
4 fl. oz gala apple shrub
2 fl. oz rye whiskey
tonic water
ice
apple slices, thin, for garnish

Throw all the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice.  Shake vigorously to mix.  In two old fashioned glasses, add ice cubes and a thin slice of apple.  Pour in cocktail three-quarters of the way and top with tonic water.  Toast.  

Note:  If you don't have the ginger simple syrup, I recommend making some.  It will last for awhile and you'll be able to use it in many drinks.  If you don't want ginger, make a plain simple syrup and muddle a thin slice of ginger in your glass and discard before adding ice and the cocktail.  To make the ginger simple syrup, in a saucepan, add one cup water and one cup sugar.  Bring to a boil over medium heat and stir frequently to allow sugar to dissolve.  Add 3 or 4 3-inch pieces of ginger. Allow mixture to come to a simmer.  Remove from heat.  Let mixture steep for half an hour or so.  Discard ginger and store syrup in the fridge.  

Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant

...is the name of a wonderful book edited by Jenni Ferrari-Adler.  Subtitled 'Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone,' the book is filled with essays from writers and foodies, including Marcella Hazan, Nora Ephron, and Amanda Hesser among others.  I think of this book quite a bit when I'm home cooking for myself.  I love how these people admit to making strange concoctions, sharing their recipes, or admitting to the world that there's nothing wrong with the occasional can of Spaghetti O's.

I find myself alone in the kitchen with eggplant--literally--on a regular basis.  One of the grocery stores that I shop usually have eggplant on sale inexpensively.  I picked up another pair this past weekend since they were two for a dollar. I'm not talking about those small Indian eggplant, these are hefty vegetables.  I'm still experimenting with uses for eggplant, but since I'm close to obsessed with baba ganoush, it's what I make more times than not.

I have no hard and fast rules for what goes into this recipe except for roasted eggplant, minced garlic, and a couple of tablespoons of tahini.  I'll see what's in the Italian Pantry and add as the mood strikes.  This version leaned towards Mediterranean with the addition of olive juice.  I had a huge jar of Seville olives and after the olives were gone, I still had a jar of juice.  The juice was an excellent addition to the dip along with an excuse for a dirty martini (as if I needed one).

Roasted Eggplant Dip
(Makes about 1 1/2 cups)


2 large eggplant
2 tablespoons tahini
1 teaspoon minced garlic
3 tablespoons olive juice
Olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste


Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.  Slice eggplant in half lengthwise and place on baking sheet.  Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper.  I don't draw the moisture out first, as I like the juice produced from the roasting.  Roast eggplant for about 30-35 minutes.  Remove from oven and scoop eggplant out of skins.  Add eggplant, tahini, olive juice, and minced garlic to blender or food processor.  Puree until smooth, slowly drizzling in olive oil to reach desired consistency.  Add salt and pepper to taste.


Serve with baked pita chips, baguette slices, or crackers.