Showing posts with label cocktail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cocktail. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

•not your mama's apple•

Photos taken at Full Belly Farm on October 1, 2011.



A half-assed Happy-o-versary to us, to us! And to you lovely readers, thank you. Our first post was also about pomegranates... in a way... :) Thanks for making all of this possible.

Pomegranates. Not my native apple. A seedy, grainy, medieval French pain in your ass? Maybe. (I know a secret for opening these. Think water birth.) When I was growing up in New Hampshire* in the 80s, pomegranates were expensive and misunderstood. Now they grow like weeds on the walk to and from Penn's preschool.

What's weird to a native New Englander is that *apples* don't do well in Northern California. Macintosh at the grocer are bruised beyond recognition, and there are no real tart options beyond Granny Smith, and her tarted-up cousin, the (unbelievably hued, yes) Pink Pearl. Pomegranates, on the other hand, grow magnificently in the Mediterranean clime. They're everywhere, including hedgerows meant as boarders. Throw-aways. In the same way rosemary is grown as a landscape feature, pomegranates are low-maintenance shrubs. They don't like much water. They love sun. And pomegranates are ripest when they split (and look over-ripe). Kinda a cool signal: they flash their ruby jewels to the world. That means you need to live near a tree, for close monitoring. Lest you miss it. (All the poms in the pictures above are still ripening. Note the one with the hexagonal flower opened, vs. the closed-flower orbs...)

Now, a simple recipe:

Maple Pomegranate Cocktail

rum
cognac
pomegranate juice
maple syrup (grade b works)
a lime
a few pomegranate arils, if you have the means

In a shaker, put 3 ice cubes. Cover with one ounce cognac, one ounce rum, about a half-cup of pomegranate juice, and 1-2 teaspoons Grade B maple syrup. Squeeze a quarter of a lime o'er top, and shake the beeejeeezus out of it for at least 7 seconds. Strain into an up-glass, with pomegranate seeds in the bottom. It is worth making one serving at a time, but I'm sure a pitchered approach would work.

Currently in the oven: granola with pomegranate pulp. There's a company based in Sacramento that makes granola using fruit juice in place of oil, and I've wanted to try that at home ever since I sampled the results. Pomegranate juice yeilds a lot of pulp: the chown up bits of aril and seed casings, plus bits of juice. What a perfect reason to stir with oats, maple syrup, vanilla and...?? I don't think I included anything else. Although pecans would have been nice. Stay tuned! Update: that granola was spectacular. Next time, I'll add unsweetened coconut!

xox

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

•kissing onions•


Just a photo-toast, to better days. Get well soon, everyone! (Myself, included.) xox

Sunday, July 10, 2011

•sparkle•


Sometimes, the glass makes the cocktail. In this case, it was both the glass and the rhubarb-raspberry gastrique (with a little help from rum, seltzer and tarragon). I have a weakness for shiny things. xox

Friday, July 8, 2011

•water cocktail•


Cantaloupe, tarragon, cucumber, ice. Air-conditioning in a glass.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Thursday, March 17, 2011

•corned beef and caterpillars•


Lavender "lemolade," with seasonal garnish.

The photos I wish I had from this week include:

20 pounds of dripping-red brisket, and me, hunched over and gently lowering those giant Jabba tongues into the bazillion-gallon steel pot that currently holds the brine, beef, and promise of tonight's American/Irish dinner.

Last night's cognac sidecar with pomegranate seeds (and orange juice, lemon juice, Cointreau, and a measure of ginger/galangal/tumeric simple syrup).

Our first flight on a UFO: Penn & I discovered the half-buried spaceship in Arroyo Park yesterday, and he piloted to the moon. Then we got out, so we could fix something. Because that is what astronauts do.

xox

Friday, January 21, 2011

•cat bar•

Overheard: "The cats do have their evening cocktail hour around here, don't they? A certain time of the evening, they like to gather..." For car-top lounging, rat kvetching, tale (tail?) swapping, and a nip or two of collected rainwater from the concave base of a basketball hoop. Jack, Henderson, Sophie, Deja Mu... the whole gang, in the waning sun. xox