Cocktail of the Irregular Time Interval: Whiskey Sour!


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For this one, I was inspired by my friend Heather Sperling’s feature on Tasting Table Chicago about September being Bourbon Heritage Month. As the autumn starts to sneak in, I tend to find myself craving darker drinks based on whiskey or rum, as well as the darker ales. Somehow, they just give you a warm feeling that a gin and tonic can’t manage, you know? Anyway, I am not fully ready to commit to the fall season yet, so I think this is a good crossover drink that, depending on the audience, can be a crowd-pleaser. Sure, bourbon isn’t for everybody, but I know that I have attended more than one wedding back home that had a fountain of Whiskey Sour.

A fountain, yes.

Seems like a bad idea, huh? Probably, but it was a good way to get people on the dance floor for the Hokey-Pokey and the Electric Slide!

Per usual, I use the freshest stuff I can find, but I think you can make a close approximation with a little sugar and store-bought orange and lemon juice. These don’t require the best bourbon, but certainly don’t get something from the bottom of the barrel. Get a middle-range example and kick back somewhere in the sun, even if it is just in the window of your apartment.

Combine in a cocktail shaker:
1/2 cup of bourbon
Juice from 1 and 1/2 lemons (1 lemon, if they are large)
Juice from 1/2 an orange
1-2 teaspoons of sugar (or to taste)
A few drops of Peychaud’s or Angostura Bitters

Stir this mixture together with a long spoon until the sugar dissolves. Add:
1 cup of ice cubes
Place the lid on the shaker and shake until it is too cold to hold, then strain into two rocks glasses filled with ice. Garnish with an orange slice and a maraschino cherry.

Weekend Eggs


Brunch is definitely one of my favorite meals to make, though I don’t feel like we have as many opportunities to host as we do for dinner. That might change as the weather gets colder and we feel less and less like leaving the Taupe Tower. Part of my problem in making brunch for people is that I usually bite off more than I can chew and some brunch items tend to be finicky. (I’m talkin’ to you there, eggs.) I once mistakenly took on making individual omelettes for six guests, which had me in the kitchen the entire time and feeling like I was posted at a catering station. They were delicious, though. The key is lots of butter. =)

Some of the great standbys we’ve come to rely on over the years are Egg Stratas (which can easily be made meatless), Strawberry Panzanella from 101 Cookbooks, Oven-Roasted Potatoes with Rosemary, and my Huevos Rancheros. We’ve also discovered that a whole ham is perfect for brunch, since people can make sandwiches with good store-bought rolls, or have a slice or two alongside their egg dish. You just throw it in the oven when you wake up and it is ready by the time the guests arrive, and everyone is impressed. Well, not the vegetarians, but you’ve made everything else meatless, right?

Though we tend to only make big brunches with guests for special occasions, I don’t see a reason to put the effort in only for company. The key is planning ahead. On your way home from work on Friday, stop at the store and get everything you need to spoil yourself on Saturday morning – eggs, some good bread for toast, a little canadian bacon, a bunch of asparagus and a few lemons. Make sure you have some butter on hand (it’s the first meal of the day, so you’ll burn it off). Oh, and why don’t you grab that cheap bottle of sparkling wine and some OJ? You won’t be sorry. You’ll be making Weekend Eggs:

Weekend Eggs

Weekend Eggs

I won’t say that Hollandaise Sauce is super easy to make, but it isn’t rocket science, either. You’re just making this for yourself, right? So go for it, and if it fails, it fails. Try again. Maybe some day you’ll have the gumption to make this for six other guests. Just have some deep breaths and a lot of coffee on hand.

BL(FG)Ts


'Maters

'Maters

Sense memory is pretty interesting. I think we often take for granted our sense of sight and hearing so much that a familiar face or tune never has the same kind of profound effect as a smell or a taste from the past.  A few weeks ago, I was reminded, through scent, of a time in my life that seems so long ago as to never have happened.  As I breathed in the scent, I was uncontrollably thrown into a moment where I was standing on a sleet-covered sidewalk in the Back Bay of Boston, bathed in the light of a shop decorated for the holidays, holding onto someone who seemed like the love of my life at the time.  For a smell to transport me so quickly through time and space, without the struggle of trying to remember, was almost too much to take.  How does your brain do this to you?  Sure, it happens with an old photograph or a melody every once in a while, but never as much as taste or smell, I think.  

Bread and Butter (Lettuce)

Bread and Butter (Lettuce)

When I got back to my computer, I couldn’t help but reconnect with the love in that memory and tell him about what happened, and how I was taken back to a time so long ago.  His response sort of took me by surprise, but in a great way.  He said he understood sense memory like that, and spun it back to me with a taste memory.  He said that he always thinks of me, with the same kind of intensity, when he makes the fried green tomato BLTs I invented years ago.  When he said that, it dawned on me that I had not thought of those sandwiches in years, perhaps because of broken-hearted connotations.  With so much water under the bridge, I immediately found myself craving one.  

Fried Green Tomatoes

Fried Green Tomatoes

Unfortunately, I had to wait to make the sandwiches, as it took a few weeks to get real green (unripe) tomatoes from the farmer’s market.  We shared the bacon, lettuce, and fried green tomato sandwiches [BL(FG)Ts] at Sunday supper with Meggie and David recently.  They were better this time, for some reason – maybe fresher tasting.  The sense memory took me back, though, and I was suddenly in my huge, old, greasy kitchen in Boston, sitting in the first chill of late summer and devouring my new sandwich invention.  If you’ve seen Ratatouille, there is a scene near the end where Anton Ego, the food critic, has a moment with the title dish.  He takes one bite of that meal and is transported to his childhood, to his family, and to his own fledgling tastebuds.  Perhaps my reaction to the taste of those layers of goodness was not as overwhelming as Ego’s, but I felt assured that, even in my adult life, I am building memories of moments with food.  

BL(FG)T

BL(FG)T

BL(FG)Ts

If you are new to fried green tomatoes, don’t be scared.  They are not easily messed up, provided that you have a non-stick skillet.  Perhaps a bit obnoxiously, I do make my own tomato chutney, mostly because I like it the way I make it.  You should feel free to swap out a not-too-spicy store-bought chutney of any kind (not only tomato).  If you need recommendations, just let me know.