A Four-Course Elegy to Gourmet Magazine

October 5, 2009, the day that Gourmet Magazine announced that it was throwing in the towel, our hearts all skipped a beat. Was it really possible, or, like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby, were we all in a feverish nightmare trying to wake up to the smells of something good coming from the kitchen? No, it wasn't a dream; it was really happening. We had just renewed our subscription (for two years . . . we loved it that much) just the day before. What would we do now?

Cousin Barbara e-mailed us the press announcement as reported by the New York Times. She suggested that we should come together to celebrate the life of this golden magazine by cooking our favorite recipes culled from shelves of dog-eared magazines, compilation books, and stained recipes printed from Epicurious. A gustatory feast? What an inspired way to eulogize the years of culinary inspiration, for not only did Gourmet provide each and every one of us with recipes to provoke, comfort, and challenge, it also gave us glimpses into the world of top-notch chefs, food writers, growers, butchers, and manufacturers. Every time we opened the mailbox and saw the latest issue awaiting us, our hearts aflutter, our eyes glued to the cover dish, we’d wonder what photo or seasonal veggie would inspire us to make our shopping list and walk to the local market in preparation for our next Gourmet meal.

Every Gourmet reader had their favorite month. Traditionalists loved November, filled with Thanksgiving side recipes and new ways to make the turkey tender and savory. For some, fall’s orchard recipes would inspire pastry chefs of all ages to break out the rolling pin and start dusting the counter with flour. For others, many would count the days before the first spring issue arrived, excited for new recipes with peas, asparagus, and artichokes, almost forgetting what these harbingers of spring tasted like after a surfeit of winter root veggies.

We decided to wait until spring to break bread. The season of renewal would inspire us, even if some of used fall recipes. Just so long as we made some of our favorites. It didn’t matter that none of us made a meat dish, or that there were two pasta dishes. This was about love and loyalty and getting together with friends to share an evening hanging out in the kitchen, and moving into the dining room when it was time. For a challenge, we’d also have to pair our dish with a beverage, either alcoholic or non-.

To read more about this adventure of 4 foodies and the amazing dishes they made, plus two delicious and refreshing drink recipes, click here.

Fava Bean and Pecorino Bruschette, plus recipes for Oysters Rockefeller, the Tom Collins, The Mocktail, and links to recipes for the very best Macaroni and Cheese; Almond-Crusted Shrimp Cakes with Lemon Soy Mayonnaise; and Mushroom, Radicchio, and Smoked Mozzarella Lasagne. Click here.

The Aviation Cocktail Gives Birth to the Kitty Hawk

The Kitty Hawk Cocktail is the spawn of the classic Aviation.

Spring has arrived and although it can still be a bit chilly, we’re getting a glimpse of what’s to come—clear blue skies, mild days, and, of course, refreshing cocktails. On that note, let us extol the virtues of the Aviation Cocktail. But first, a little history. It first appeared in print in Hugo Ensslin’s 1916 Recipes for Mixed Drinks containing four ingredients: gin, lemon juice, maraschino liqueur, and crème de violette. It is this last ingredient that lends the drink a pale pale pale sky-blue hue, ergo the moniker “Aviation.” Over the years however, especially in The Savoy Cocktail Book of 1930, we see that crème de violette is left out of the drink since it was difficult for many bartenders to find.

On a side note, we’ve talked about crème de violette on “Buzzings” recently—it’s redolence is unmistakably floral. It’s not called crème de violette for nothing. Just a little bit can change the entire flavor profile of a drink. We use a fairly good amount of it in a Marianne at Midnight, an after-dinner drink in which the violet stands up to the strong peaty taste of scotch and the dark caramel notes in the Italian liqueur Tuaca. But since gin is more delicate than scotch, and its nose and flavor are already botanical, only a small amount is called for in an Aviation.

So, getting back to our history lesson, during those lean decades, when the reality of reading a recipe that called for crème de violette was just a tease, we had to settle for Aviations without it. No pale blue color, no slightly floral whiff. Just the delicious melding of sour lemon juice, bittersweet maraschino cherry liqueur, and junipery gin.
creme de violette

But behold, the Aviation has returned to its roots; now that the violet liqueur has resurged, we can enjoy the Aviation in its original splendor. Drop a maraschino cherry in it. It will look even prettier. (Even though bright-red maraschino cherries are considered gauche at this enlightened moment in Cocktail (and culinary) history, and although we are not big fans of them, we say fu@k it. You don’t have to eat it. Just let it sit on the bottom of your coupe. Every time you take a sip, pretend there is a treasure awaiting you once you reach the bottom. And by the time you do reach the bottom, you will have forgotten everything there is to know about the Aviation and not care a lick that a glowing red orb is staring back at you. (By then, you might eat it too.)

The Aviation

(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce lemon juice
2 teaspoon maraschino liqueur
1 1/2 teaspoon crème de violette*
maraschino cherry, as garnish

Method
Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full with ice and add all the liquid ingredients. Shake for 15 seconds and strain (or double strain for a smoother drink) into a chilled coupe or cocktail glass. Garnish with a maraschino cherry.

* If you cannot find crème de violette, you can, alas, omit it.

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For a slight variation, we add Catdaddy Carolina Moonshine to the gin and rechristen it the Kitty Hawk, in honor of, what else, the Wright Brothers, and because Piedmont Distillers, the makers of Catdaddy, are North Carolinian as well. The Catdaddy, with hints of cake frosting, or perhaps flan, adds a sweetness that is only hinted at in an Aviation. We’ve swapped out a maraschino cherry for one that’s boozy—a brandied cherry. For extra credit, try making some cocktail cherries with Catdaddy and spices that will complement the uniqueness of this flavored Carolina Moonshine, such as vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

The Kitty Hawk

 (created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1 ounce gin
1 ounce Catdaddy Carolina Moonshine
1/2 oz. lemon juice
2 tsp. maraschino liqueur
1 tsp. crème de violette
brandied cherry, as garnish

Method
Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full with ice and add all the liquid ingredients. Shake for 15 seconds and strain (or double strain for a smoother drink) into a chilled coupe or cocktail glass. Garnish with a brandied cherry.

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Either way you like your sweet and sours, both of these drinks pair well with a variety of party food, from oysters to mini fish sandwiches to salty chips with dip. The world is your cornucopia. Have some fun and experiment before the spring is over with a cocktail party that takes flight with Aviations and Kitty Hawks.

All Hail the Dammit Cocktail

The Dammit Cocktail touts itself as the most intriguing, cutting-edge, eye-opening, exquisite, trailblazing, and downright delicious cocktail in the world. It has survived centuries of eager bartenders and home enthusiasts vying to create the perfect blend of spirits and mixers.

But what exactly is in the Dammit Cocktail?

Have you ever stumbled upon a description of a cocktail that sounded so tantalizing, you just had to make it immediately? You quickly eyeball the recipe, read down the list . . . so far so good . . . you have these ingredients at the ready. Then you look upon your bar, find the right bottles, but only a drop is left in one of them. It is in this very moment that the cocktail acquires its name as you utter, “Dammit.” You can improvise and substitute a similar spirit, but deep in your heart, you know you will be missing out on something special. Similarly, and worse because you cannot make substitutions, is a Dammit Cocktail that consists of a nonalcoholic ingredient you thought you had in your fridge, but cannot find despite rummaging through it three times. This cocktail is called the “Dagnabbit Cocktail.” For those of you hellbent on making the drink exactly according to the recipe, take comfort in knowing that you can always jump in your car or run to the corner store for that Holy Grail of missing ingredients.

But never despair, dear reader, for we have a simple solution for you. Experiment and turn your Dammit Cocktail into something new. It may become the most intriguing, cutting-edge, eye-opening, exquisite, trailblazing, and downright delicious cocktail in the world.

Two Irish Whiskey Cocktail Recipes for St. Patrick’s Day

Neither of us grew up in families that celebrated St. Patrick’s Day, with the exception of the occasional bowl of dyed green mashed potatoes at Steve’s house. And no one drank Irish whiskey. We both had to come to it later in life. It was about five years ago that Paul brought home a bottle of Jameson. It sat on the shelf for a spell before he decided to mix a cocktail with it using pears as the theme. Thinking about pears mixed with whiskey made him reach for that bottle from which poured a slightly earthy but clean taste somewhat reminiscent of a smooth blended scotch, but without all the peatiness. Jameson makes for a good mixer. It really enhances the flavors of the other ingredients in a cocktail. So Paul thought about how much he liked the sweet, peaty Drambuie–Scotch blend that makes a Rusty Nail. Why not apply the same principal to a cocktail using Irish whiskey in lieu of the Scotch, and embellish the Drambuie with 2 blasts of pear: from a liqueur, and from freshly pureed Red Bartletts. What then became the “Oh Pear” would further become the third-place winner in the USA Pears/Imbibe Magazine Pear Cocktail Contest.


Oh Pear
(created by Paul Zablocki)

Ingredients

2 ounces Irish whiskey
1 ounce pear puree (try Red Bartlett)
1/2 ounce pear liqueur (try Belle de Brillet or American Fruits)
1/2 ounce Drambuie

Method

Shake in ice for 15 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with pear slice, if desired.

We’re not going to lie; the Oh Pear is a strong drink, but the alcoholic strength is tempered by the sweetness of fresh pears and the incredible Bartlett richness of a good pear liqueur, such as Belle de Brillet, American Fruits, or Clear Creek. If you cannot make pear puree at home from ripe pears such as Bartlett, Comice, or Anjou, then find a pear puree that doesn’t contain added sugars and other juices, if possible. Even though we consider it a fall cocktail, there’s still enough of a chill in the air to warrant a round of Oh Pears with your friends. And if possible, you can make Cheddar Blue Fricos to pair with them. Fricos are wafer-thin lacy fried-cheese crisps you may have had using the traditional Parmesan. But we’ve embellished a bit, to go with the Oh Pear, and have blended some sharp Cheddar with a hint of blue cheese, and some herbs and spices.

So you don’t want to whip out the juicer to make an Oh Pear? Okay. Here’s an easy twist on a classic Manhattan that brings a big Erin-Go-Bragh grin to our faces. Irish eyes are smiling this month with a forgotten classic, the Paddy Cocktail. What better way to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day than a cocktail named after an Irishman. When you first bring a Paddy Cocktail to your lips, you’ll smell the caramel, with hints of vanilla and cherry. The first taste will prove that you weren’t imagining the aroma, and it will bring you back to the holidays . . . as if you were drinking a whiskey-soaked cake. It’s perfect before or after your meal, or both if you’re St. Patrick’s Day revels are happening at home or close to a cab (it’s a strong drink, after all). The Paddy Cocktail is now one of our favorites, and it’s a great addition to your Irish whiskey cocktail repertoire.


Paddy Cocktail
(adapted from Mr. Boston’s Official Bartender’s Guide)

Ingredients

1 1/2 ounces Irish whiskey (try Jameson)
1 1/2 ounces Carpano Antica (a sweet vermouth from Italy)
1 dash Angostura bitters

Method

Stir in ice for 30 seconds and strain into chilled coupe or cocktail glass. (If you cannot find Carpano Antica, just use your favorite sweet vermouth.) Bottoms up!

photos © Cocktail Buzz

The Srirachacha Lights Up Our Lives

The Srirachacha, a savory Martini with just a drop of Sriracha chili sauce and a dash of celery bitters, garnished with a pickled green tomato.

One cold Sunday night this past January, we were too lazy to go out and brave the frigidaire that was Brooklyn, so we quadruple-locked the door and said to each other “Let’s make a Martini . . . but not a Martini Martini.” Something a little more exotic. So we looked in the frigidaire that was in our kitchen and Steve whipped out a jar of Rick’s Picks Pickled Green Tomatoes. Acknowledging his choice, I espied a brightly vermilion-hued squeeze bottle of Sriracha hot sauce. We know you’ve seen it. If it’s the original from Huy Fong Foods, it’s got a big outline of a rooster on the front and a neon green cap. It’s actually an American invention, by David Tran, in 1984, who wanted to make a ketchup-like condiment, but one that reminded him of the chilies back home in Vietnam. (There are other Sriracha chili sauces on the market, such as Roland, which looks similar, but has two yellow Chinese dragons on the bottle, and a mustard yellow cap.) Well, we decided that this sauce (pronounced SIR-rotch-ah) was going to some how mix with gin and dry vermouth to create a new cocktail, based on an old favorite.

We had some Dolin dry vermouth in the fridge, and some sample mini bottles of Death’s Door gin that we picked up at Tales of the Cocktail last summer. If you haven’t had a drink made with Death’s Door, you must seek one out. The gin, from Wisconsin, is made with organic wheat and juniper berries found wild on Washington Island. You can taste the juniper, along with zingy fennel and bright coriander, in the gin, and it mixes extremely well with the Dolin. Old-school Martinis have a dash of orange bitters, but we decided to wait on adding bitters until we added the hot sauce.

Deciding on old-school measurements, we gave the gin and vermouth a ratio of 3 to 1. Since dry vermouth loves to swish around with gin, why not send the two into quivers of sprituous delight. In thinking of the amount of Sriracha, we decided on but one drop per drink. Why overdo a good thing. After a quick shake and a taste, we were pleasantly surprised at how much we liked it. And only a hint of the Sriracha came through, just enough to elevate this drink to something more complex. However, we both knew that a little bit of bitters was needed, but not orange. Celery would be more befitting. Just a dash did the trick. And adding a nibble of pickled green tomato made the last bite a perfect end to a harmonious drink.

Steve dubbed it “Srirachacha” (stress on the final syllable), and we proceeded to do some not-in-synch, pseudo-sixties parlor-hipster Cha Cha moves. It proved to be a great pre-dinner appetite stimulator (the drink, not the dancing), because as soon as Steve was making up another batch, I was sauteeing up some chicken cutlets piccata-style, with a little Singapore seasoning added to the flour, plus more as the chicken lay sizzling in the butter-drenched skillet. And to top off those golden moist cutlets: Sriracha sauce, of course, and a little candied citron, for good measure.

So, when there’s still a nip of cold in the air, but the promise of spring teases us with a sunny day, heat things up with the Srirachacha. A drop of Sriracha chili sauce is all you need. Think of it as a a crisp martini with a warm glow. And don’t forget to treat yourself to some Seared Singapore Chicken Cutlets as a little side. Bon appetit.

Srirachacha
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1 1/2 ounces Death’s Door gin
1/2 ounce Dolin dry vermouth
1-2 dashes Bitter Truth celery bitters
1 drop Sriracha chili sauce
1 piece of pickled green tomato, such as Rick’s Picks

Method

Add all ingredients except tomato to a shaker. Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a pickled green tomato.

The Srirachacha perfectly pairs with an appetizer of Seared Singapore Chicken Cutlets.

Seared Singapore Chicken Cutlets
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients 

1 package of thin chicken cutlets (about 5), cut into bite-sized pieces
1/2 cup flour
1/8 cup Singapore Seasoning from Penzey’s, or another spice mix that contains curry flavors
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Sriracha chili sauce
bite-sized candied citrus peel, as garnish (citron works beautifully with the Sriracha)

Method

Melt butter in a pan over medium heat. Meanwhile, mix flour and Singapore Seasoning in a bowl. Dredge chicken pieces in flour mixture, and add to pan when butter starts to sizzle. Cook on each side for about 3 minutes. Sprinkle more seasoning on each side. Remove from heat. Drizzle with Sriracha. Scatter with candied peels. Serve immediately with Srirachacha cocktail.

Mixology Monday XLVI: All About Absinthe! (and mules too!)

The Old Mule blends aged rum and ginger beer with a touch of absinthe.

Lucid was the first legal absinthe reintroduced to the United States a few years back, and since then, dozens of brands of the green-eyed fairy have been appearing on the shelves of liquor stores across this nation of discriminating and indiscriminate drinkers. For those who are discriminating, such as Sonja Kassebaum, distillery owner, blogger, and host of this month’s Mixology Monday, Lucid is a perfect start for mixologists and dabbler’s alike. We bought a bottle of it at Lenell’s in Red Hook, Brooklyn, for 60 bucks right when it came out, and starting looking up old-school recipes that called for a dash here, or two dashes there. The Rattlesnake is a perfect example of what absinthe can do using such a small amount: rye, egg white, lemon juice, simple syrup, and last, but not least, absinthe to give the Rattlesnake its bite.

Alone, absinthe can be a bitter comfort for some who like their way-high-in-alcohol spirits to lull them into a sleepy state of confusion. But turning the high-octane of this anise-flavored spirit into a louche will turn any pre-dinner or postprandial tippler into a believer. Recently, at Hotel Delmano in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Paul ordered some St. George Spirits absinthe verte, and it came complete with the multi-spigoted urn filled with icy tap water, holey decorous absinthe spoon with a sugar cube placed atop it, and a glass of absinthe poised under the spigot to collect the water slowly dripping onto the eagerly awaiting cube, and then through the spoon. Watching the sugar cube slowly dissolve is half the fun; the other half is watching the absinthe turn opalescent. It does this because of insoluble components in the spirit. It’s a neat effect, and with the addition of the sugar water, the bitterness naturally abates. Drink slowly or you’ll be drunk faster than you can say “Oscar Wilde.”

A big fan of both playing with absinthe and coming up with mules (highballs with ginger beer), Steve plied his mixology skills by coming up with two devilishly delicious drinks. We’ve written about his Lancaster’s Mule, named after a character in Allan Gurganis’s White People, and how rum and absinthe marry well when ginger is introduced. This mule is made with white rum, but what if you’re jonesing for an aged-rum libation? Look no further, for the Old Mule delivers lots of deep flavors and a nice bite.

Old Mule
(created by Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1 1/2 ounces aged rum (try Flor de Caña 18 yr.)
1 teaspoon absinthe (try Lucid)
3 dashes Angostura bitters
4 ounces ginger ale, or a mild ginger beer
ice

Method
Stir rum and absinthe in ice for 30 seconds. Strain into an ice-filled highball or double rocks glass. Top with chilled ginger beer.

❤ ❤ ❤

Does absinthe make you hallucinate? Not in the LSD sense. But at about 124 proof, if you drink it enough at one sitting, you may start seeing Salome dance for the head of John the Baptist. You’ve been warned.

Sparkle, Neely, Sparkle! Pouring Fun at Fermented Grapes, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn

Many people believe that New Yorkers lack a sense of community, that we’re constantly rushing to and fro, hither and yon, and as a result, we don’t get to know the people round us. Well, that may be true for some, but most people who work in New York live somewhere within city limits, in a section of one of the five boroughs, perhaps on a small block, or a busy high rise. They say hi to their neighbors with a wave of the hand, or a polite nod. Some even hug.

There was a whole lot of hugging happening recently at a gem of a wine and spirits shop on Vanderbilt Avenue in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn. Debbie Summer of Fermented Grapes asked us if we would pour some delicious sparkling wine, among other elixirs, for the neighborhood patrons that were willing to brave the cold last Saturday at one of Fermented Grapes’s well-attended tastings. We were happy to take on the challenge. In the lineup: a relatively unfamiliar sparkling Grüner Veltliner, Dolin White Vermouth, and Winter & Rothman Crème de Violette. The lovely Eudocia Rodzinak of Theo Chocolate was on hand to offer samples of some amazing organic, fair-trade delights.

We decided on pouring the sparkling Grüner first, as it was light and effervescent, like a frizzante, a perfect way to get this party started. Most patrons loved its light crisp fruit, the aroma of freshly peeled apples, and a finish that tasted of a lovely fruit salad. This sparkler’s name is Punkt Genau,which translates as “On the dot,” and it lived up to its name. For those who need to know, it is produced exclusively from Grüner Veltliner grapes grown in the heart of Austria’s Weinviertel. It can be served to celebrate any occasion, including something as simple as getting home from work. (We love sparkling wine, and don’t feel the need to drink it on special occasions. Have it with dinner!)

We then decided to pour the Winter & Rothman Crème de Violette, but wanted the patrons to try it mixed with the Grüner (we tried this the night before and were pleased with the results). A little crème de violette goes a long way—it tastes of old-school violet candies you still see at corner bodegas in the city. Most sippers were tickled by the combination (we weren’t sure if it was the exotic flavor of the violets, or the bubbles hitting their noses), and many felt like the combo produced a pleasant grape flavor, with a hint of violets. We’ll call this drink the “Violet Sparkler.”

Violet Sparkler
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1/2–1 teaspoon crème de violette (your taste buds will let you know)
3 ounces sparkling Grüner Veltliner (Punkt Genau), or other sparkling wine

Method
Add crème de violette, then chilled sparkling wine, to a champagne flute. Toast.

Paul talks shop with two delightful sisters, Emily and Melissa Elsen, who opened Four & Twenty Blackbirds, a bake shop in Park Slope/Gowanus.

We informed Debbie that we went a little crazy the night before with our friend Curt when we decided to top the Violet Sparkler with some resposado tequila, so she came back to the tasting station with a bottle of Corazón Reposado. For a spirit to mix well with crème de violette, it needs a strong character, so scotch, aged tequila, and gins with high juniper notes blend well—the violet flavor is chastened, but not lost). So we added about a half ounce to start and loved the results, and dubbed it “La Violeta.” If you really love the taste of 100% blue agave tequila, go ahead and add a bit more. It’ll be a great way to start a fiesta!

La Violeta
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1/2–1 teaspoon crème de violette (your taste buds will let you know)
3 ouncessparkling Grüner Veltliner (Punkt Genau), or other sparkling wine
1/2—1 ounce resposado tequila

Method
Add crème de violette, then chilled sparkling wine, to a champagne flute. Top with chilled reposado tequila. ¡Salud!

❤ ❤ ❤

We poured the Dolin White Vermouth next. Many of the guests at Fermented Grapes that night were confused by this vermouth—they had only heard of and tasted dry and sweet vermouths—so this one was a revelation. Imagine sweet vermouth made with white wine, not red. The herbs and spices used to fortify white vermouth play very well with tequila. As barkeep Phil Ward once exclaimed to us about mixing the two, “It’s a no-brainer.”

Luckily Debbie opened that bottle of Corazón Reposado, because after she sipped a little of the white vermouth (aka blanco or bianco vermouth), we topped her glass with some of the tequila. As she proclaimed, “This is my new favorite drink,” others took notice and extended their empty glasses out to us. We were more than happy to oblige them. One of our favorite cocktails, Cut Flowers, uses white vermouth and tequila, and it’s a terrific alternative to a margarita.

Steve, happy about tasting Theo Bread & Chocolate with Dow’s vintage 2004 Port. Thanks, Eudocia.

So after each patron sampled the wares, they looked to Eudocia and her ten samples of chocolate with eager smiles. If they had a little of their vermouth and tequila samples left, she encouraged them to taste it with the spicy chocolate that started with hints of orange, then finished with a chile bang. Of course we sampled most of the bits she had on hand, and our favorites were the dark chocolate with fennel seeds and figs, and the dark chocolate with french breadcrumb bits. (The slightly saltiness of the bread worked wonders on that bit of chocolate.) Also try the milk chocolate. It’s making a big comeback and Theo’s version is mouth-watering. And paired with Dow’s late bottled vintage 2004 Port, the smiles grew even wider. We had a splendid time meeting some of our neighbors, some newbies and some old friends.

When you’re in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, and if you see us walking around, stop to say hello. We can exchange neighborhood faves, and point you in the direction of Fermented Grapes where you can give Debbie and her partner Jan McGill a visit. (If we’re cooking, say, a Turkey Tetrazzini or grilled lamb chops, they know exactly what’ll dance perfectly with it.) The entire staff (including Mathew, Donna, and Eileen who all got to taste that night) is incredibly helpful and knowledgeable, the store has the feel of a laid-back pouring room, and nobody leaves empty handed, including the patrons that night who never in a million years thought they would need a bottle of créme de violette and white vermouth for their home bars.

Steve, calm before the crowd at Fermented Grapes, 651 Vanderbilt Avenue (between St. Prospect Place and Park Place), Brooklyn NY 11238, (718) 230-3216.