Ina First Fridays: The Juice of a Few Flowers

Because I usually make an appetizer for this round of Ina's First Fridays, I tend to forget it also includes drinks. So I thought it would be fun to do a drink this month. Enjoy!

Several years ago I posted a rather lengthy piece about the famous Juice Of a Few Flowers and its origins. It was the story of Gerald and Sara Murphy and began in the 20's. This young, newly married couple wished to escape the snobbish, elite world into which they were born (which, one must keep in mind, supported them) and the strictures of their parents. And so they moved to Paris, soon to become the darlings of that era, hobnobbing with Picasso, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Cole Porter et al. Their generous hospitality, spontaneity and extraordinarily adventurous spirit made them the trend-setters of the time. F. Scott Fitzgerald famously quipped about the Murphys saying: “The rich are different from us.” But the Murphys weren’t really filthy rich, just well off and knew how to live with great flair and style.

It was a fun post and if you'd like see some photos, read about their fascinating life, the gaiety, the tragedy and their final years, click HERE.  

At any rate, cocktail hour became quite a performance with Gerald Murphy at the bar and he was very mysterious and secretive about his concoctions. When someone would ask what was in this or that drink he would always answer: "Just the juice of a few flowers."  Murphy eventually turned this favorite description of  "Juice of a few flowers" into  a cocktail. It was made of freshly squeezed juices -- one ounce orange, one ounce grapefruit, a half ounce lime, a half ounce lemon -- together with an ounce of gin. Gerald Murphy's instructions:
"The mint should be put in the shaker first. It should be torn up by hand as it steeps better. The gin should be added then and allowed to stand a minute or two. Then add the grapefruit juice and then the lime juice. Stir vigorously with ice and do not allow to dilute too much, but serve very cold, with a sprig of mint in each glass."

In 2008, I watched Ina Garten make a drink she called Juice of a Few Flowers and, having read all about the Murphys in several books,  I smiled and knew I had to try it. You're going to love it. It’s a drink with a tart citrus punch and a nice kick of vodka. An ice-cold glass, a sugared rim, a sprig of mint. Pretty darn close to Gerald Murphy's description.

Juice of a Few Flowers

2008, Barefoot Contessa, Back to Basics

Ingredients:
1/2 cup (125 mL) freshly squeezed orange juice (2 oranges)
1/2 cup (125 mL) freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice (1 grapefruit)
1/4 cup (50 mL) freshly squeezed lemon juice (1 lemon)
1/4 cup (50 mL) freshly squeezed lime juice (2 limes)
1 cup (250 mL) vodka
extra lemon juice
granulated sugar
fresh mint sprigs

Method:
Combine the orange juice, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, lime juice and vodka in a pitcher.
Dip the rims of 4 martini glasses first in a dish of lemon juice and then in a dish with sugar. Set aside to dry.
Pour the cocktail mix into the glasses, garnish with mint and serve.

                                              ******************************************************

Ina Fridays participants:

•  Alyce @ More Time at the Table
•   Anna @ Cheese with Noodles
•   Barbara @ Moveable Feasts  
•   Bhavna @ Just a Girl From AAmchi Mumbai..
•   Chaya @  Bizzy Bakes
•   Linda,  @ Tumbleweed Contessa
•   Mary @ The Egg Farm
•   Minnie @ The Lady 8 Home
•   Mireya @ My Healthy Eating Habits
•   Patti @ Comfy Cuisine
•   Peggy@ Pantry Revisited
•   Rocky Mountain Woman @ Rocky Mountain Woman
•   Veronica@ My Catholic Kitchen

Long Island Iced Tea Sorbet

Ahhhhh. Don't you love a lovely glass of iced tea?

But here's something better, and there's not a speck of tea in this iced tea either, honey.
So what's up with that? 

In 1976, a bartender named Robert “Rosebud” Butt at the Oak Beach Inn of Hampton Bays, Long Island, N.Y., threw together equal parts vodka, gin, rum, tequila and triple sec, plus a little cola to give it a tea-like color and invented Long Island Iced Tea. By the mid-1980s, the popularity of Butt’s invention far outweighed that of his last name (poor man), and had become hugely popular, especially among college-age drinkers.....traditionally around the time of spring break. Supposedly, the beverage allows covert drinkers to imbibe with a concoction that still looks as though it were non-alcoholic, just in case family were to arrive and catch you sipping the thing. A warning from the experience of age: it may look innocuous, but trust me, Long Island Teas aren’t for the faint of heart or amateur drinkers. They're deadly. There are lots of versions but here's the recipe we used to use:

3 parts Triple Sec

1 part Light Rum

1 part Dark Myers Rum

1 part Vodka

1 part Gin

1 part Vermouth

3 parts Sweet & Sour Mixer 

6 parts Coca Cola (like Classic; do not use Pepsi!)

1/2 part Tequila 

Ice

Oh the memories.  I'd probably drop on the spot if I had one now. :)
So I was thumbing through Marcel Desaulniers' lovely book Desserts To Die For and was intrigued to find those memories in sorbet form. And here it is, in all its glory....Long Island Iced Tea....frozen. Definitely an apt sorbet in a book with that title. My oh my.

Long Island Iced Tea Sorbet
From Desserts To Die For by Marcel Desaulniers

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1 cup Myers dark rum

1 cup good quality tequila

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup Rose's lime juice

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 teaspoon finely grated lime zest

12 ounces Coca Cola Classic

1 1/2 cups cold water

1/4 cup Kahlua

Method:

Heat the sugar, rum, tequila, lemon and lime juice and zests in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve sugar. Reduce heat a bit and allow to boil for 13 minutes. You should have about 2 1/4 cups syrupy spiked tea. (At this point, your entire house will smell as though you've had a very big party.)

Cool the mixture over an ice bath until it is 40 to 45 degrees. (About 15 minutes) When chilled add cola, water and Kahlua.

Freeze in your ice cream freezer. Place the semifrozen sorbet into a container and freeze for several hours before serving. It will never freeze completely hard. Serve with a mint sprig and a slice of lime. Serve within 24 hours.

The Juice of a Few Flowers

Near the beginning of the last century, 16-year-old Gerald Murphy met beautiful 20-year-old Sara Wiborg at a party in East Hampton. Eleven years later in 1915, they were married. In June of 1921, Gerald and Sara and their three young children, Honoria, Baoth, and Patrick, set off for Europe. They wished to escape the snobbish, elite world into which they were born (which, one must keep in mind, supported them) and the strictures of their parents. Gerald had always been aware, and often troubled, that he was not exactly the typical hearty American male. It turns out they were both looking for the inspiration of a fresh and fertile creative landscape.

They found that inspiration in Paris. The Murphys quickly found themselves embraced by the city and its most talented international residents. They were called the Golden Couple: worldly, artistic, bohemian, glamorous.

Gerald and Sara thrived among this wide and eclectic circle, finding their roles as friends, sponsors, confidantes, muses, and co-creators as modernism in all its forms bloomed around them. They never asked for favors in return, but they actively supported the careers of such “unknowns” at the time as Ernest Hemingway, Fernand Léger, Cole Porter, John Dos Passos, Picasso, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dorothy Parker, Archibald MacLeish, John O'Hara,  Jean Cocteau and Robert Benchley.

Gerald developed into quite the dandy...his resort wear even inspired Coco Chanel. He “arranged himself like a work of art,” says curator Deborah Rothschild, in clothes that were varied but “always informed by the highest aesthetic sensibility.”  Murphy's looks were distinctive but he definitely wasn't handsome. There are few images of him smiling...he always deprecatingly described his own face as an Irish moon face. Hats played a key role in Murphy’s wardrobe, which his daughter later explained was because of his thinning hair and the chubby appearance of his cheeks.

Picasso adored Sara, as did everyone else, and admired Gerald’s idiosyncratic flair. Sara's penchant for wearing pearls draped down her back while sunbathing inspired drawings and paintings of the period as well as Fitzgerald's prose. Sara with her famous pearls:

During a walk soon after they got to Paris, Gerald caught a glimpse of paintings by Picasso, Braque, André Derain, and Juan Gris in a gallery window. “If this is painting,” he announced to Sara, “then this is what I want to do.” Gerald (and Sara as well) began to study modern art under a Russian artist. Between 1924 and 1929, Léger, a major influence, encouraged Murphy's shared enthusiasm for mass-produced objects, advertising, and design. His first works, displayed at the 1923 Salon des Indépendents in Paris, “Turbines” and “Engine Room,” portrayed the dynamism and precision of machinery.  The next year, his 18-by-12-foot canvas “Boatdeck” literally overshadowed everything else in Salon. In its depiction of an ocean liner’s towering smokestacks, rigging, and ventilation funnels, the piece reveled in pure geometric forms and flat, poster-like expanses of color. It was a sensation. (Like many of his smaller works, these larger works have been lost.) So 40 years before Andy Warhol, pop art was born.  Murphy painted 14 pieces, but only 7 survived. Although this is a small body of work, he has been recognized as a significant artist. I thought you might enjoy a slideshow of his work:



Now I certainly don't want to leave out Sara. She was considered one of the great American beauties of her generation.

She became muse to Picasso, F. Scott Fitzgerald and a number of others. The Murphy's generous hospitality, spontaneity and extraordinarily adventurous spirit made them the trend-setters of the time. F. Scott Fitzgerald famously quipped about the Murphys saying: “The rich are different from us.” But the Murphys weren’t really filthy rich, just well off and knew how to live with great flair and style.

In 1923, Gerald and Sara bought a seaside chalet at Cap d'Antibes in southern France, named it Villa America and continued to host this elite circle of friends who defined art and literature in the 1920's. The trendsetting Murphys transformed the French Riviera in summer into a chic, if not mandatory, destination. Equal parts artistic salon and lavish family picnic, Villa America embraced everyone for whom Gerald and Sara cared.  They spent their time sunning on the beach and enjoying impeccable dinners under the grand silver linden tree in the garden of the villa.

But before every delightful dinner at Villa America, there were cocktails. 
Cocktail hour became quite a performance with Gerald at the bar and he was very mysterious and secretive about his concoctions. When someone would ask what was in this or that drink he would always answer: "Just the juice of a few flowers."  Murphy eventually turned this favorite description of  "Juice of a few flowers" into  a cocktail. It was made of freshly squeezed juices -- one ounce orange, one ounce grapefruit, a half ounce lime, a half ounce lemon -- together with an ounce of gin. Gerald Murphy's instructions:
"The mint should be put in the shaker first. It should be torn up by hand as it steeps better. The gin should be added then and allowed to stand a minute or two. Then add the grapefruit juice and then the lime juice. Stir vigorously with ice and do not allow to dilute too much, but serve very cold, with a sprig of mint in each glass."

A little side note: Have you ever seen the 1940 movie "The Philadelphia Story"? (There was a musical remake in 1957 called "High Society" starring Grace Kelly, which was her last film before her marriage.) The original starred Katherine Hepburn. In one scene, a woozy Tracy Lord, played by Katharine Hepburn, has a hangover and her ex-husband, played by Cary Grant, makes a Stinger for her as a hangover remedy. Hepburn asks what's in it, and Grant replies: "The juice of a few flowers."

It happens that Philip Barry, the author of "The Philadelphia Story," was one of Gerald Murphy's closest friends and had taken particular note of Gerald's way with a cocktail shaker, which Barry described as being "like a priest preparing Mass"  and so wrote that famous line into the script. Murphy would later give his painting "Cocktail" to Ellen Barry, Philip Barry's widow.  (It now belongs to the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York.) Murphy arranges the tools of pleasure (a silver shaker, corkscrew, cocktail glass, and five cigars) with a presentational precision that reflects the seriousness with which he approached the ritual of mixing drinks. (See the above slideshow.)

Many years later, in 2008, I watched Ina Garten make a drink  she called Juice of a Few Flowers and I smiled and knew I had to try it. You're going to love it. It’s a drink with a tart citrus punch and a nice kick of vodka. An ice-cold glass, a sugared rim, a sprig of mint. Pretty darn close to Gerald Murphy's description.

Juice of a Few Flowers

2008, Barefoot Contessa, Back to Basics

Ingredients:
1/2 cup (125 mL) freshly squeezed orange juice (2 oranges)
1/2 cup (125 mL) freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice (1 grapefruit)
1/4 cup (50 mL) freshly squeezed lemon juice (1 lemon)
1/4 cup (50 mL) freshly squeezed lime juice (2 limes)
1 cup (250 mL) vodka
extra lemon juice
granulated sugar
fresh mint sprigs

Method:
Combine the orange juice, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, lime juice and vodka in a pitcher.
Dip the rims of 4 martini glasses first in a dish of lemon juice and then in a dish with sugar. Set aside to dry.
Pour the cocktail mix into the glasses, garnish with mint and serve.

And just in case you'd like to read the end of the Murphy story:

The Murphy's  were the inspiration for Nicole and Dick Diver in Fitzgerald’s masterpiece “Tender Is the Night” , which caused a rift between Fitzgerald and the Murphys, although they remained supportive of Fitzgerald for many years, through all his drunken episodes.

Another old friend, Ernest Hemingway, in his posthumous memoir, ''A Moveable Feast,'' called them rich ''bastards.''  (Hemingway’s hunger to bolster his own machismo led him to grow more suspicious of Murphy’s sexuality over the years of their relationship.) 
There were some deleted passages never published in which Hemingway unforgivably, considering their generosity to him, commented, ''They were bad luck to people but they were worse luck to themselves and they lived to have all that bad luck finally.'' 
Gerald Murphy reacted by saying: ''What a strange kind of bitterness -- or rather accusitoriness . . . . What shocking ethics! How well written, of course.''

The bad luck Hemingway referred to was the unexpected deaths of their two sons. (As if to bargain his first ill son back into health, Gerald abandoned painting in October 1929.) Which makes the first photo above very poignant. The second piece of bad luck was the near bankruptcy during the Depression of his family's business (Mark Cross) which forced Gerald's grudging return to America to save, and spend the rest of his life preserving, the family business.

So as an elderly man, Gerald lived the life he had fled as a young man, going to an office and lunching every day at Schrafft's.  Sara threw herself into volunteer work with children. The hospitality of their home  in Snedens Landing, just up the Hudson from New York City, seems to have been a sweet but pale afterimage of their former salon.  Five of Murphy’s works were among the “American Genius in Review” exhibit mounted at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Art in 1960. From then on he found himself the object of serious critical interest. He supposedly announced at a family luncheon, “I’ve been discovered. What does one wear?”

Gerald died October 17, 1964 in East Hampton, courtly to the last; his final words to his wife and daughter were “Smelling salts for the ladies.”
Sara died on October 10, 1975 in Arlington, Virginia.

  
Additional reading about the Murphys...I loved both these books:
Living Well is the Best Revenge and Everybody Was So Young: Gerald and Sara Murphy, a Lost Generation Love Story. And if you haven't already, you certainly should read A Moveable Feast.
Photo and informational credits: 
 http://identicaleye.blogspot.com/2010/03/summer-by-sara-gerald-murphy.html
 http://theerrantaesthete.com/2009/02/16/the-golden-couple/
 http://mondo-blogo.blogspot.com/2011/05/gerald-and-sara-murphy-superfreaks.html
 Some photos by Man Ray
http://www.ucpress.edu/content/chapters/10873.intro.pdfhttp://www.nytimes.com/books/98/05/24/reviews/980524.24allent.html

http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/artworld/2007/08/06/070806craw_artworld_schjeldahl
http://nymag.com/arts/all/features/17561/
http://www.dandyism.net/?p=1080

http://www.ucpress.edu/content/chapters/10873.intro.pdf

Eaux de Vie (Eau de Vie)

It's said that back in the 17th century, an Alsatian monk boiled some fermented cherries in the hopes of producing an elixer to cure cholera. He named it "eau de vie" or"water of life." It may be a tall tale, but for several hundred years, the Alsace region has been producing unsweetened fruit brandies called eaux de vie. (Not to be confused with liqueurs.) This legacy continues in France, Switzerland and Germany and, more recently, on America's West Coast.  Eaux de vie are arguably one of the world's finest digestifs and are silky, with a heady aroma, a taste of fruit and they pack a powerful wallop; it's almost like biting into a ripe fruit.

My daughter Tracy was home for a few days last week and we got into a discussion about eaux de vie (pronounced oh duh vee) and how much she enjoyed it when she lived in Paris. This is not going to be news to you European bloggers because it is commonly on your wine menus and many of you probably have a bottle or two at home. We are not so fortunate. Tracy has asked for it frequently in New York City restaurants but few include it on their wine list. Because I knew very little about it, she suggested I blog about it.

And so we did some investigating while she was visiting here. Five wine stores later we found one lonely bottle. And it was French, rather expensive and a poire (pear) eaux de vie. In a couple other places we got blank looks, but in most we were told there was no demand for it so there was no reason to stock it. My daughter said she can find it in her favorite wine shop in NYC- Chambers St. Wines  so it's available at your better wine merchants, especially for you lucky people on both coasts. Another helpful manager suggested we try www.winesearchers.com to see who carries it in Florida. Guess what? Hardly anybody. It may be offered more frequently in restuarants on the west coast because there are some distilleries in Oregon and California that produce it. And there are some mail order opportunities as well. I'll give you their websites later in the post.

But back to my story. In the heart of Alsace, eaux de vie is produced in profusion. The many fruit flavors include: Poire (pear), framboise (raspberry) Mirabelle (yellow plum), fraise des bois) wild strawberry), quetsch (purple plum),prunelle (blackthorn or sloe plum), even sapini (pine buds) and gratte-cul (rose hips). Really, the flavors can be just about anything. There is also a Douglas Fir and a rosemary-infused eaux de vie.

The rules that apply to the production of these white alcohols in France are quite strict: absolutely no sugar but there is no requirement that the raw material be locally grown. So the raspberries may come from Romania and the mirabelles from Lorraine, where summers are cooler and plums ripen slower resulting in more flavor. The quality of the fruit is what makes a premium eaux de vie. The fruit has to be free from bruises or cuts. So it's of prime importance to have fine fruit to start with.

It takes 8 hours of continuous distillation to turn fermented fruit into eaux de vie. The fruits are mashed and fermented and then distilled twice in traditional copper pot stills that render a clear, intense spirit.

After distillation, the new eaux-de-vie rest a few months to become mellower, smoother and rounder, while developing a complex, many-faceted character, but really without anymore aging than that.

It takes about 20 pounds of mirabelles, 18 pounds of wild raspberries and 30 pounds of pears to make one bottle of eau-de-vie. Connoisseurs, and of course Alsatians, argue that their fruit alcohols are superior to those made in Switzerland and Germany. Those countries, they say, allow artificial fruit essences to be added. Eaux de vie are strong, hovering around 45 percent alcohol. They are very pure, the Alsatians say, because they have none of the chemical or color additives normally added to Cognac, Armagnac and Calvados.

Another way to describe eaux de vie is to say they are the anti-vodka. The point of vodka distillation is to remove all the flavors; the point of eaux de vie is to preserve as much of the original fruit as possible. Because it is a digestif, it is usually served after dinner. But in Alsace, the locals often sip them with cheese, or with one of their tarts. They should be served cold but never over ice. And serve them in chilled glasses. What's important is that the glass and the eaux de vie be the same temperature so as not to shock them.

There is also something called a poire prisonniere. Unlike other eaux-de-vie, poire prisonniere captures the fruit itself. Early in the growing season, when the pears are just forming on the trees, glass bottles are tied over some of the most promising buds. The pear grows inside the bottle, and when it is ripe, it is cut from the tree-still in the bottle. Both bottle and pear are washed and pear brandy is added. The whole pear is in the bottle you buy, its beauty and flavor completely intact. Some French firms say this doesn't change the flavor one bit and one says: "C'est un gadget". (It's a gimmick)

My daughter, son and I had a tasting of our purchase the other night.  We had been advised to use either small brandy snifters or some small tulip shaped glasses, which I have. The initial sniff was of fresh pears. The first sip takes your breath away. (This is strong stuff!) And the aftertaste is pear. It was delicious! But be careful, remember this is a digestif, not something you gulp down and ask for another.

In the meantime, satisfy your craving for fresh fruit and find some "water of life". Who knows? It may stave off a cold!

Did you think I was going to leave you without a recipe today? Nay, nay. And it's a dandy too.

Eaux de Vie Pear Compote with Eaux de Vie Pear Sorbet
From Pastry Chef Alba Estenoz, ZINC Modern American Food

 Ingredients for compote:

6 Bartlett or Anjou Pears
Juice of 1 lemon
2 Tablespoons Poire Eaux-de-Vie
½ cup Sugar
2 Tablespoons Butter
¼ teaspoon salt

Method for compote:

Peel pears and cut into small dice. Toss with lemon juice. Caramelize sugar in pan over medium heat. First the sugar will melt, then crystallize, then begin to melt again and turn golden brown. When it is completely melted, add the butter and salt. Then add pears and you will find the caramelized sugar will seize but that's OK. Stir a bit and then add Eau de Vie and continue to cook until pears are slightly translucent and much of the fluid has dissolved. Remove from heat, cool, serve at room temperature or refrigerate until you are ready to use.

Ingredients for Pear Sorbet:

1 ½ cup water
1 ½ cup sugar
2 Tablespoons light corn syrup
4 ½ cups ripe pears, diced and peeled
½ teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons Poire Eaux de Vie

Method for Pear Sorbet:

Combine water, sugar, syrup and salt in large saucepan. Bring to boil; add pears and simmer until pieces are very tender. This took about 45 minutes. Let the mixture cool slightly; puree in blender or food processor; use caution when blending hot mixtures in blender or food processor.
Cool puree for at least 3 hours; freeze.
Serve frozen sorbet with pear compote; compote should be served at room temperature.

Here is Food and Wine's list of the best eaux de vie producers, plus some additions from other sources. You can check out these websites and find out where you can buy locally or order online.


Clear Creek Distillery
Steve McCarthy founded this Portland, Oregon–based distillery in 1986, when he decided to experiment with his family’s pear crop. He now produces seven kinds of eaux-de-vie from local fruit, including blue and Mirabelle plums. clearcreekdistillery.com. (Top Picks: Kirsch (cherry), Blue Plum, and Douglas Fir


Peak Spirits
This new western-Colorado producer buys only organic fruit grown within 20 miles of the distillery, including pears, cherries and the Rosa and Cresthaven peaches it uses for its summery peach eau-de-vie. peakspirits.com.


Purkhart
This Austrian distillery makes the deeply flavored Pear Williams eau-de-vie and the excellent Blume Marillen (“Blossom of the Apricot”), a floral, apricot-based brandy with fruit from the Danube Valley. alpenz.com.


Reisetbauer
Many think fastidious Austrian distiller Hans Reisetbauer makes the world’s best eau-de-vie (at up to $170 a bottle, it’s priced accordingly). Reisetbauer’s enormous portfolio includes classic eaux-de-vie varieties and bottles featuring unlikely flavors like carrot, ginger and the piquant rowanberry. reisetbauer.at. (Top picks: Pear, Plum, and Rowanberry (complex, with fruit and marzipan notes); also Ginger and Carrot (both are fascinating, if not typical flavors for an after-dinner drink)


St. George Spirits
Alsace native Jörg Rupf, who founded this Alameda, California, distillery in 1983, has helped spread the eau-de-vie gospel to many other microdistillers. In addition to crafting cherry, pear and raspberry eaux-de-vie, St. George offers experimental brandies, including one derived from Thai basil. stgeorgespirits.com


Meyer
Alsace, France; Top picks: Kirsch (cherry, with a delicious touch from the cherry stones) and Quetsch (dark red plum


Etter
Switzerland
Top picks: Fruit Tree Blend, Zuger Kirsch Three Year Old (cherry)


Westford Hill
This 10-year-old Connecticut-based distillery bottles four kinds of premium eaux-de-vie, including the fragrant Pear Williams, made from ripe Bartlett pears. westfordhill.com.


The two most well known firms on the west coast are St. George Spirits (http://www.stgeorgespirits.com/) and Clear Creek Distillery. (http://clearcreekdistillery.com/index.php) Both of these sites will list stores where their wines are available to those of us who can't find them locally.

Photo credits for this post:
http://www.cocktailia.com/articles/clear-creek-distillery
http://www.eaux-de-vie.com/

Source information for this post:
http://www.nytimes.com/1998/04/01/dining/eau-de-vie-fruit-s-essence-captured-in-a-bottle.html?pagewanted=1
http://www.sallybernstein.com/beverages/spirits/eau_de_vie.htm
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1365/is_n9_v23/ai_13869737/http://www.cocktailia.com/articles/clear-creek-distillery
http://www.cocktailia.com/articles/clear-creek-distillery
http://www.nytimes.com/1984/08/26/travel/alsace-s-eaux-de-vie-pack-a-fruity-punch.html
http://www.eaux-de-vie.com/

A Book, Bubble Tea and Sympathy

So. As the title indicates, I am going to share three things with you.

The book: put in simplest terms, it's wonderful. I just finished it. Anyone interested in food or cooking should race right out and buy it. Saying it is merely a book about a cooking class is a gross understatement. It's a book about understanding food and how it's cooked. It's enticing. It's charming. It's sensual. It is NOT a book of recipes. And it's a lovely story about everyday people who share a love of cooking coming together with all their individual problems. You'll adore it. After you read it, pass it on to a foodie friend. Maybe even someone who isn't. Buy it for a Christmas or birthday gift. The name? The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister.



The sympathy? I am going to take a short break from my blogging to have a hip replacement. Not something I am looking forward to, but as everyone informs me- ad nauseum- it's better than a knee. (Which doesn't give me much comfort, but fine.) And remind me never to say this to anyone else who is having a hip replaced. It's annoying. It makes you feel as though you will be the dunce of the class if you are not up and walking without aid in a week and driving in three weeks. Sans pain. Oh well, hopefully I will be back sooner than I expect, cooking, writing and reading about your cooking experiences.

Which brings me to the third item: Bubble Tea. I think the best thing about cooking, cookbooks, cooking blogs and cooking shows is you never stop learning. Every day there is an unfamiliar recipe, a little known ingredient, a remake of an old favorite- you never know what's coming next. And so it is with this unique and delicious recipe called Strawberry Basil Bubble Tea.

Have you ever heard of Bubble Tea? I bet those of you who live on the west coast have. How best to describe it? It's part drink, part dessert snack and all fun! It's non-alcoholic, non-carbonated and sweet, although it has much less sugar than a typical soft drink. The unique ingredient in Bubble Tea is the large tapioca pearl, which has a consistency of gummy candy. Being heavier than the drink, they tend to always stay near the bottom of the glass. These drinks are served in see-through glasses with an extra wide straw to slurp up the tapioca pearls.

The Bubble Tea craze has been huge in Taiwan and other parts of Southeast Asia for 15 years or so. The original Bubble Tea consisted of a hot mixture of Taiwanese black tea, brown large pearl tapioca, condensed milk and honey. Iced versions appeared soon and then along came green Bubble Tea which uses jasmine-infused green tea instead of black tea. Peach or plum flavoring began to appear, then more flavors were added. Flavors may be added in the form of powder, fruit juice, pulp or syrup, then add to the hot black or green tea, shake or blend with ice until chilled. Cooked tapioca pearls are added at the end.

Much to my surprise, the most recent issue of Veranda magazine had a Bubble Tea recipe in its excellent, albeit small, cooking section. It jumped right off the page at me and I couldn't resist trying it.

First, find the straws: specially made fat ones so you can suck up the tapioca pearls. Which does not sound enormously appealing at first, but turned out to be fun.




Then find the large pearl tapioca; I couldn't find anything but small pearl around here so I mail-ordered it.



Now the strawberry purée might have been a problem but I had ordered three purées from The Perfect Purée Company in California and one of them was strawberry. The magazine says you can find this item at speciality stores, but I can't find it here. (I bet you could improvise here with no problem.)


So, with all the ingredients lined up, I made my first Bubble Tea. It was refreshing, delightful, unusual and I can't wait to serve it to company. I was floored when I tasted this recipe- I loved the flavors. And now that I have the big straws- such fun- everyone will want to take some home. Thank God they come in enormous packages.



Strawberry Basil Bubble Tea
(Adapted from Veranda Magazine, July/August 2009)

Make a simple syrup: 1/2 cup water with 1/2 cup sugar. Bring to a boil, remove from heat and cool completely.

For the Bubble Tea:

Ingredients:
1 quart fresh strawberries, washed and hulled
1/8 cup fresh basil
1/2 cup fresh mint
3/4 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon brewed, iced tea ( I used pomegranate flavored tea; use any you like but the original recipe called for passion fruit tea.)
1/2 cup simple syrup (see above)
1/4 cup frozen, prepared strawberry purée, thawed (available at specialty stores)
1/2 cup large tapioca pearls, cooked per instructions on the box

Method:
Puree fresh strawberries and strain through a fine sieve. Pour 1/2 cup of this purée into a small shallow container and freeze to make granité.

Using a mortar and pestle, combine basil, mint, sugar and 1 tablespoon of iced tea to make a syrupy paste.

In a large mixing bowl whisk together the remaining purée, basil-mint mixture, the remaining iced tea, simple syrup and the thawed, prepared purée. Chill at least 30 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

To serve: fill the bottom of each glass with 1 tablespoon of the cooked large pearl tapioca. Top with the strawberry- basil tea mixture to about 1/2 inch from the rim of the glass. With a spoon scrape the granité and place on top. Add a mint garnish and serve with a wide-gauge straw. (Available at tentea.com or bobateadirect.com.)

Serves 6-8 as a pre-dessert or 4 as a dessert.

Milk Punch

We had some wonderful friends many years ago who had a New Year's Day party every single year. Talk about good buddies! We loved having someplace to go for football, food and the requisite rehashing of New Year's Eve, but let's face it: is there anyone you know willing to entertain after they have been up nearly all night? And in those days we drank; not wine either. Aside from champagne, I'm quite certain I don't remember wine being an available libation on New Year's Eve. How odd. Well anyway, New Year's Day Lynn and Tony would set up two large white crocks with overly-long ladles and served Bloody Marys in one and Milk Punch in the other. Didn't that go down smoothly! (And way too quickly.) The Bloody Marys were ice cold and spicy with celery sticks in a dish next to the crock; the first time we were invited, Milk Punch was new to me so it was quite a surprise. When I glanced in the crock I thought at first it was egg nog and was about to pass it by, expecting it to be super sweet and on the heavy side as I think all egg nogs are, when someone told me to try it, I would love it. They were right; the Milk Punch was much lighter and not all that sweet. I was a convert. And as I recall, the group was about half and half- both crocks needed refills about the same time. After we served ourselves, everyone knew what to expect: football was on a couple of screens in different areas of their home, snacks scattered about and we settled in for a relaxing afternoon. How we looked forward to New Year's Day with Tony and Lynn!

Lynn was a lovely cook and always served a buffet late afternoon- invariably beef stroganoff- her specialty (she made the sour cream kind rather than the tomatoey kind which I abhor) along with any number of delectable side dishes. I remember it like it was yesterday; the men watched, cheered and talked football (sort of) and the women got laughing hysterically while discussing what went on the night before- or as a young friend of mine put it recently- we "deconstructed" New Year's Eve (don't you adore that expression?). I love memories like our New Year's Day party- they make me smile. It's not that we're not creating memories anymore, or enjoying annual parties, or laughing and having fun with our friends; it's just that these were friends from my young married life- all of us raising children together, most of us were stay-at-home moms and we did everything together. You never forget those days. What makes this particular memory melancholy is that Lynn is no longer with us and we all loved her; as well, most of us have moved from the area and we only stay in contact with a few of our dearest friends from those days.

After I moved to Florida, I invited everyone to join us at my house for dinner Christmas day. I always had champagne for my dad and an open bar for everyone else. But for me (and for a few discriminating members of my family) I always made a punch bowl of Milk Punch. Because I didn't have a wonderful old crock, I served my punch in a pretty glass bowl with a whole nutmeg and a grater next to it. Frankly, there were some years I don't know how I managed to get dinner served- I do so like this punch. Nowadays, my parents are gone, my relations have gone in different directions or have their own celebrations so it is just my immediate family and Milk Punch is really for a crowd, so I don't make it anymore. But in case YOU are having a crowd over the holidays, pass on your old standby egg nog recipe and try this one. It's easier to make anyway! This is not Lynn and Tony's secret recipe, but one I found many years ago in a newspaper. It's every bit as good, if not better.

Milk Punch
Ingredients:
8 cups milk, very cold
1 pint coffee ice cream, somewhat softened
2 cups good quality bourbon
1 cup good quality rum
freshly ground nutmeg
Method:
Blend milk, bourbon and rum in a punch bowl. You can float the ice cream on top or, if you like a sweeter drink from the first, blend the ice cream into the milk mixture and serve. I like to float the ice cream on top; it melts quickly and sweetens the punch. Sprinkle with freshly ground nutmeg and serve.