Category: Drink

My blender died last summer.

I’m not sure what I asked it to do — scramble a couple of eggs, maybe? — but it made a sound like a dying frog, and slowly ground to a halt.

Oddly, I took this as a good omen. I had been dropping 25-pound hints to my wife about how great it would be to have an upscale, professional-grade blender. I’m not 100 percent sure if these thoughtless, insulting references to ambitious blending are what broke my old blender’s will to live, but I feel guilty about it anyway.

But not too guilty — I had that particularly dangerous gleam in my eyes that only 16-year-old boys and middle-aged men get. I really, really wanted a new blender, which my wife was fine with.

Until she found out how much it would cost.

At which point she gave me an ice-cold, steel-spined glare that the above-mentioned 16-year-old boys and middle-aged men are extremely familiar with.

A little more research on my part revealed that there is such a thing as reconditioned, high-end, professional blenders, that are slightly cheaper.

This revelation relaxed my wife’s glare by about 12 percent.

I suggested that I could put a little bit of cash aside each week and save up for one of these almost-new über-blenders, and got cautious, provisional permission to move ahead with this plan. Frankly, I’m pretty sure she thought that I didn’t have the attention span to follow through with it and would forget about it eventually.

Except that I found a loophole.

I had been throwing all my spare change in a large jar on my bedroom dresser for the past year or two — by definition saving up money, bit by bit. I made an appointment, then went to our bank to get the change counted.

When I got back, my wife asked, “How’d it go?”

I responded that unfortunately we’d need to go to the post office and get a change-of-address form.

Another confused but cautious look. “And why is that?” she asked.

“Because we’re moving to BLENDER TOWN, BABY!,” I responded, fluttering a handful of cash in her face.

Which is how I got Steve.

Steve is not a patient appliance. Every time I blend something, he urges me to use his highest setting — “C’mon, boss! Let me loose!” I quickly learned that while I could probably use Steve to grind a broomstick into sawdust, that much power isn’t all that useful for many of the things I actually want to blend. He is so powerful that on the highest settings, cavitation from the blades will lead to an air pocket that keeps the food from getting as blended as you’d think.

All of which is more or less beside the point, except to say that your blender — OK, my blender — is your (my) new best friend when you make this week’s recipe: boozy ice cream.

Rum Cheesecake Ice Cream

Put the canister of your blender on a kitchen scale and zero it out.

Add the following ingredients to the blender jar, taring the weight each time:

• 1 block / 8 ounces / 230 grams cream cheese

• Zest of 1 lemon

• 1 cup / 8 fl. ounces / 240 grams sour cream

• ½ cup / 125 ml sugar

• Pinch of salt

• 3 Tablespoons / 1½ ounces dark rum – I like Myers’

Blend. (At this point Steve chuckled evilly, and I indulged him. I turned the dial up to 8. Steve had a Very Good Afternoon.)

Put the blender jar in the refrigerator and chill thoroughly.

Blend again, briefly, then pour into your ice cream maker and turn it into ice cream.

Harden in your freezer.

So, here’s the thing about using alcohol in ice cream:

Sugar and alcohol have very important roles in ice cream, apart from tasting good. They affect the freezing/melting point and texture of the finished product in extremely weird ways. You are extremely limited in how much you can or cannot use. Do not try adding more rum to this recipe. Don’t try to find a loophole (yes, I’m aware of the irony here) and use a higher-proof rum – the amount of alcohol will seriously mess up your texture, and possibly your ability to make ice cream at all. Even the fairly modest amount of rum in this recipe dramatically altered my ice cream maker’s ability to freeze it. Normally it takes me about 20 minutes to freeze a batch of ice cream. This took close to an hour. (Steve did not help the situation by shouting disrespectful comments to the ice cream maker, across the kitchen, implying that if it was better at its job, it would have a name.)

This cheesecake ice cream is really delicious — it tastes spot-on like actual cheesecake — but the rum is definitely a subtle, background flavor.

That’s where the topping comes in.

A Possibly Misguidedly Boozy Blueberry Topping

Ingredients:

• 2 cups frozen wild blueberries

• 1/2 cup water

• 1/2 cup sugar

• 2 Tablespoons fresh-squeezed lemon juice

• 2 Tablespoons cornstarch, mixed with 2 Tablespoons cold water

• 8 Tablespoons / 4 ounces Golden Rum

• Zest of 1 lemon (about 1 tablespoon), optional

In a small saucepan, over medium heat, stir the blueberries, water, sugar and lemon juice, until it comes to a gentle boil. Let it boil for another 10-15 seconds, to make sure the sugar is completely dissolved.

Stir in the cornstarch/water slurry, and keep stirring, until the mixture thickens noticeably – about three minutes.

Remove from heat, then add the rum and lemon zest. Let the mixture cool slightly before topping your ice cream.

Blueberries and lemon go together extremely well. This is a fantastic topping. Yes, you can make it without the rum for the kids – sub in a tablespoon of vanilla for the alcohol – but this is a really, really good Thursday night, bracing-yourself-for-one more-day, grownup sundae. The rum is deceptive. You’ll taste a spoonful by itself – this is inevitable – and say, “Yup, that’s a good sauce,” then go to put the spoon in the sink, only to be stopped in your tracks by a hands-on-hips, steely glared reaction from the sauce.

“Good? That’s what you have to say? Good?”

The ice cream maker might not have a name, but I call this sauce Frida.

Featured photo: Boozy ice cream. Photo by John Fladd.

Finding food wines at Angela’s Pasta & Cheese

If you haven’t visited Angela’s Pasta & Cheese, on the corner of Chestnut and Appleton streets in Manchester’s North End, even once over its 40-year history, you have seriously deprived yourself of a real indulgence. Upon walking in, you are greeted by competing aromas of pasta and cheeses, imported meats and local breads. You are on “sensory overload” taking in the savories and sweets, competing for a primary position in your brain as you tour the store.

Angela’s is an institution that has endured but is also quietly evolving, having recently been purchased by Steven Freeman. The wine offerings are taking a slightly different course. Freeman is looking to offer wines that can be easily paired with the many food offerings the store has, creating an entire meal for you.

Our first wine, Cadre 2019 Stone Blossom Sauvignon Blanc, from Edna Valley, priced at $22.95, is described on the label thusly: “A new life of fragrant blossoms emerges from the rock and sea.” The color is very pale, a silvery light straw. Its nose is citric with a touch of grapefruit with floral, citric blossom notes. These citric notes carry through to the tongue, along with hints of green apple and a slight sweetness of a sugary melon. It is incredibly fresh with a long finish and with notes of minerality.

Paragon Vineyard, designated as Certified Sustainable, was planted by Jack Niven, who brought vineyards and wine-making to San Luis Obispo’s Edna Valley 48 years ago. The root stock is gamay noir, with the sauvignon blanc grafted in the early 1980s. Photos of the vines are impressive, as the trunks are thick, rustic and sculpted by the weather and time. The soils are described as clay with limestone, which impart their mineral nuances to the wine. Additional plantings of stock came from the Loire Valley, vines nurtured from mineral-laden soils.

The Edna Valley is unique in California in that it is but 5 miles from the coast and runs to the coast, as opposed to the many other valleys that run parallel to the coast. This geological formation allows the cool ocean breezes to bring the Pacific fog into the valley morning and night. Edna Valley was cited in a study by the University of Southern Oregon as the coolest growing region in all of California. This climate allows for bud break in February, with a growing season that can extend to the end of October.

Our second wine is a box wine, and why a box wine? For starters, it will allow you to pour a glass without exposing the rest of the bladder to oxidation. If you finish the three liters before 30 days, you are good! I do not believe a box wine has ever lasted 30 days for me!

Quandrum Red Blend, priced at $21.95, is a superb value as the box contains three liters of wine! This is also a wine made from sustainably grown grapes, from the dry, sunny region of La Mancha and the central inner plateaus of Spain. It is a blend of 80 percent tempranillo with 20 percent garnacha. The color is a dark, opaque maroon; the nose is rich with dried fruits that carry through to the tongue. This is a wine to stand up the Italian sausages and salamis of Angela’s but will also hold its own against any backyard burger, joined with a slice of Spanish manchego cheese.

Featured photo:

Random beers to help with outdoor chores

My wife and I decided this would be the year we would beautify our landscaping. Mulch! Fresh loam! Grass seed! New shrubs! Flowers! And even a fancy sprinkler that sits on a tripod! This would be the year.

Well, some of those things have actually happened but others, sadly, have not. The area right in front of my house looks like a construction site. No, not a construction site; it looks like something exploded in front of my house.

There are two giant holes from removing a couple stumps, except that I’ve only been able to get one of the stumps out. I’m told I need a “come-along” and a “winch.” And then I guess I’m going to crank it right out, so says YouTube. I can’t imagine anything could go wrong.

OK, so there’s been a lot of digging and just generally tiresome labor, and that means I’ve needed to whet my whistle with some beer from time to time. My selections have been completely random and maybe even questionable but I regret nothing.

I know I’m not alone in trying to beautify lawns and landscaping this year and so I know I’m also not alone in needing something to quench my thirst.

Here’s a look at some brews that helped reward me after attacking some stumps.

Harpoon UFO by Harpoon Brewery (Boston)

I found this in the back of my dad’s fridge and when I saw it I immediately harkened back to the college days when I had far too many Blue Moons and UFOs with orange slices sitting on the brim of the glass. I think we all went to the well on this style too frequently and just got sick of it. So, probably 15 or maybe more years since I last had one of these, I dove in, and it was refreshing and tasty. There is absolutely nothing offensive about this beer. It’s definitely got a little sweetness but it’s not nearly as overpowering as I remembered. On a hot day, yeah, I think this is a winner.

Holy Donut Imperial Stout by Lone Pine Brewing Co. (Portland, Maine)

Brewed in collaboration with the famed Portland doughnut shop that gives this beer its name, this is an imperial stout brewed with dark chocolate toasted coconut doughnuts. Honestly, I’m not sure whether it’s dessert or breakfast and who really cares anyway? The main problem with this beer is that I was halfway through it when I realized it was 10.5 percent ABV — that sort of made for an interesting afternoon. This is a rich, decadent bomb of a beer that still manages to be dangerously easy to drink.

Newcastle Brown Ale by Lagunitas (Chicago)

This is another one I found in the back of my dad’s fridge — honestly, what’s in the back of this guy’s fridge is absolutely wild: Mike’s Hard Raspberry Lemonade from probably 2008, some kind of hard root beer and then some Heady Topper sitting right next to it. It’s incredible. This was one of my first favorite beers during and after college. My whole family loved Newcastle. We got kegs of this stuff for all family graduation parties, I think. And then one day I bought a six-pack and every beer in the pack was skunked, and it’s just really hard to come back to a beer once that happens to you. But you know, again, years later, this was perfectly fine! (It’s also now brewed with a different recipe.) It’s got a subtle nuttiness and a little bit of malt — extremely easy to drink. This is a perfectly pleasing if not especially remarkable beer.

What’s in My Fridge
Wachusett Blueberry Ale by Wachusett Brewing Co. (Westminster)
My wife saw this in the fridge and asked why I don’t keep the fridge stocked with this beer at all times. It’s a great question and there’s really no excuse for my lapse. If you’ve never tried this, please do. It’s super-refreshing, very easy to drink and features the extremely pleasing but not at all overpowering flavor of blueberry. Cheers!

Featured photo: Holy Donut by Lone Pine Brewing Co.

A look at American takes on French-style blends

While blending of grape varietals is not new to California winemaking, Thomas Jefferson would be pleased with some of the latest refinements to this exercise in creating nuanced and complex wines.

A lover of all things French, Jefferson was a true champion of the Bordeaux style of making wine. His favorite red wines came from the left or west bank of the Gironde River, where the blends consisted of cabernet sauvignon, merlot and petit verdot. His favorite white wines came from the Entre-Deux-Mers region that lies between the Gironde and Dordogne rivers, with sauvignon blanc as the dominant grape. From Jefferson’s day to today, French wine has been the standard by which all wines are judged. When the blind tasting of the Judgment of Paris, formally known as the Paris Wine Tasting of 1976, rated a California chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon best in each category, that standard was questioned. So is it odd that winemakers from California still try to emulate the French manner of blending grapes? Not at all, as blending adds much to the structure and complexity of the wine.

Our first wine, a 2013 Carte Blanche Proprietary White Wine (originally priced at $39.99, reduced to $12.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets) is a classic white Bordeaux, inspired by the blend of 68 percent sauvignon blanc and 32 percent semillon. The sauvignon blanc grapes come from the Blau Vineyards of Knights Valley, an AVA name that is incongruous, as this AVA is at a high elevation between Napa and Sonoma counties. The semillon grapes come from the DeLorimier Vineyard of Alexander Valley, an AVA immediately west of Knights Valley. The higher elevations and cooler climates of the Knights Valley allow for slow ripening, coaxing a full range of flavors that result in this vibrant and full-bodied wine.

Nicolas Allen Wines, the maker of this exceptional white wine, is based in the Carneros region of Sonoma County, but the family that makes this wine has been in business for nearly a century. Carte Blanche is a label from the fourth generation of vineyard owners, the first being Clarence Dillon, an American financier who purchased Chateau Haut-Brion in Bordeaux, the only first-growth Bordeaux owned by Americans, the first of several other French wineries he acquired over the course of years.

At 8 years old, this is an older version of a white wine, which may contribute to its dark straw-like color and floral, yeasty nose. The semillon calms the familiar citric or grassy notes one usually encounters with a sauvignon blanc. To the tongue it is soft and buttery like a croissant. Also, in another departure from traditional American sauvignon blanc that is fermented in stainless steel tanks, this wine was barrel aged for 10 months in 20 percent new oak manufactured by the famous Taransaud barrel makers. At only 150 cases, this is an extremely low-production wine. When chilled it can stand alone,or be enjoyed with a salad or grilled fish on the patio.

Our second wine, a 2016 Petite Cote Napa Valley Red Blend (originally priced at $49.99, reduced to $22.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets) honors the heritage of Bordeaux’s finest Right Bank wines that is based on a blend of 75 percent merlot, 15 percent cabernet sauvignon and 10 percent petit verdot. Created for restaurants, the wine has a subtle nose of plum and blackberry. To the tongue it is full of notes of vanilla and chocolate, lasting in a long finish. Its tannins are present with a light, dry sense of leather. This is a wine to be enjoyed with grilled steak and will complement lamb well. It can be cellared for a few years and still retain its rich fruit.

Produced from vineyards throughout the Napa Valley with its warm days and cool nights, and with great blending skill, this wine can stand up against any production-focused Bordeaux red. Created by Jean-Charles Boisset, the Boisset Collection of wines counts among 15 California-based wineries and 13 French wineries, a true blending of cultures and expertise.

These two perfectly balanced wines are to be enjoyed with the onset of warmer weather, relaxing in the afternoon, or over an early evening dinner on the patio.

I have a theory that the greater the classic rock anthem, the less objective sense it makes.

Remember in seventh or eighth grade? That school dance? It was probably the third or fourth one that you had gone to, but this was the first time you were brave enough to dance with someone. And, of course, you waited until the very last song, which was — obviously — “Stairway to Heaven.”

It doesn’t matter if you are a man or a woman. Or whether you were a boy or a girl at the time. Even if you haven’t thought about that moment in years, it is etched in your memory. As are a series of questions you had at the time:

Geez, how long is this song? (Just over eight minutes.)

Is there something special I’m supposed to do with my feet? (No. You’re 13. Just stay upright.)

Can this person see how much I’m sweating? (Yes.)

What’s with this weird bit at the end, where the music goes from slow, to fast, then back to slow, just long enough to make dancing incredibly awkward? (Art.)

And most importantly:

What does that whole line about a bustle in your hedgerow and the May Queen mean? (Nobody knows.)

Great song.

No objective sense, whatsoever.

While this isn’t universal, I refer you to the entire catalog of Paul Simon — or for that matter, Toto.

All of which is pretty irrelevant, except to say that this week, when I saw a little pink house, it seemed important to memorialize it. And my faded youth.

Little Pink Houses

100 grams strawberries — fresh are good, but frozen might be even better; they break down better in a drink.

4 grinds black pepper

2 ounces gin

5 to 6 ice cubes

¼ ounce white balsamic vinegar — regular balsamic will work too, but your drink will end up looking a lot like root beer.

1 ounce strawberry syrup or 2 Tablespoons strawberry jam

~3 ounces plain seltzer

Muddle the strawberries and pepper in the bottom of a cocktail shaker. If you are using frozen strawberries, you might want to let them thaw slightly first.

Add gin, stir, then walk away for five minutes. This will give the gin time to extract some of the flavors from the berries and pepper.

Add ice, vinegar and syrup/jam.

Shake thoroughly.

Pour, unstrained, into a tall glass.

Top with seltzer, and stir gently.

Garnish with songs from your playlist that will drive your children from the house.

This is a refreshing, spring-like drink. It’s not too sweet, and the notes of black pepper and balsamic vinegar keep it from tasting domesticated. It’s an outstanding Zoom meeting book club drink, but also excellent for sitting on the porch and watching the bird bath. As John (still “Cougar” then) Mellencamp would say:

Aw, but ain’t that America for you and me

Ain’t that America, somethin’ to see, baby

Ain’t that America, home of the free, yeah

Little pink houses for you and me

Oh yeah, for you and me, oh

Great song. No objective sense.

Featured photo: Little Pink Houses. Photo by John Fladd.