Because I am a humble man, I don’t often bring this up, but it has bearing on today’s topic, so I’ll say it now and get it out of the way, so we can move on.
I make the World’s Best Breakfast Sandwich.
I know; it seems unlikely. You’d expect the inventor of such an important — dare I say, landmark? — development to be a tall, handsome, strapping man of great intelligence and taste. You’d be disappointed.
And, of course, you’ve got the lunch-counter lawyers who will want to get into the whole, “How can you quantify matters of personal preference?” Some people might even argue, “How do you even define the word ‘sandwich’, anyway?” — you know, the same people who like to start the argument about whether a hot dog is a sandwich or whether breakfast cereal is soup. Those jerks. [Editor’s note: Hippo totally and with troublemaker intent stirred this pot in our Best of 2022. Hippo readers pretty definitively said 76 to 24 percent that a hot dog is not a sandwich.]
But the fact remains that there is one clear best breakfast sandwich, and I’m the guy who invented it. I am so confident of this that I have it on my resumé, which has provoked several extended discussions during job interviews. I haven’t always gotten those jobs, but by the time I left, the various hiring committees knew what to make for breakfast the next morning.
Here is how you make it:
Toast one slice of plain, ordinary, white sandwich bread. If you try to use a snobbier, artisanal bread, this whole dish will collapse philosophically.
Spread the bread with a confident layer of peanut butter — natural, processed, it doesn’t matter. It has to be actual peanut butter, though. Almond butter, sunflower butter, tahini, these are all fine, admirable ingredients but this is not the job for them.
On top of the peanut butter, arrange a layer of pickled jalapeños — not fresh ones, not a splash of hot sauce. Pickled. Jalapeños.
Top the jalapeños with a fluffy scrambled egg. Not egg whites. Not whipped tofu.
Scrambled. Egg.
“Yeah, but I like a fried egg, and I don’t really see why—”
Shhhh.
One. Scrambled. Egg.
Season with a pinch of coarse salt and fresh ground pepper.
You and I both know how this is going to go down:
You’re going to try to prove how open-minded you are and you’ll make this — well, a version of it, anyway. You’ll substitute a self-respecting slice of sourdough for the sandwich bread, or you’ll use some fresh chiles you’ve got growing in your garden. You’ll make it, and eat it, and shrug your shoulders and say, “It’s OK, but I’m not sure what he’s making such a big deal about.” And you’ll move on with your life, burdened with just a little less respect for me than you had before.
And then, one day, when you need it most — when it is freezing rain outside, and the character you love the most on that show you like has gotten herself killed by a radioactive wombat, and work is terrible, and you just had a big fight, and you hate the world — on that day, you will make this sandwich the way it was meant to be eaten and you will feel the fragments of your broken heart start to slip back into place.
“OK,” I hear you say. “This is all certainly very … colorful and all, but what — if anything — does this have to do with cocktails?”
Oh, right.
I’m sure you already know this, but this Friday is the 94th anniversary of the first commercially sliced bread, which is, of course, one of the key developments that make this sandwich possible. And as long as we’re talking, in a roundabout sort of way, about bread that doesn’t get enough respect, let’s make a cocktail that honors another forgotten hero of the bread world: pumpernickel.
Pumpernickel Manhattan
Ingredients
1 Tablespoon caraway seeds
1 Tablespoon cocoa nibs
1½ ounces rye whiskey – I like Maker’s Mark
1½ ounces red vermouth
10 drops cardamom bitters
10 drops orange bitters
Thoroughly muddle the caraway seeds and cocoa nibs in the bottom of a cocktail shaker. (You could also use a mortar and pestle for this.) Add the rye, and swirl to combine.
Leave the whiskey, caraway and cocoa nibs for at least an hour, to get to know each other better.
Using a fine-meshed strainer, strain the rye over ice, in a mixing glass. Add the vermouth and bitters, then stir gently.
Pour into a rocks glass, and sip slowly.
Pumpernickel — the bread — is a close cousin of rye bread; that’s why we’re using rye for this Manhattan, rather than the more traditional bourbon. Its dark color comes from cocoa powder, and like all self-respecting ryes, it has caraway seeds to give it some [vague, punching motion]. As with any self-respecting Manhattan, the predominant flavor here comes from the whiskey — this is why we’ve used a fairly upscale rye — but the caraway and cocoa linger and remind you who you are dealing with. They are subtle about it — it doesn’t shout, “CARAWAY! WE’VE GOT CARAWAY, HERE!” but they leave you thinking about the finer points of pumpernickel bread.
As you should.
Featured photo. Pumpernickel Manhattan. Photo by John Fladd.
There was always something about cracking a Budweiser on the Fourth of July. Don’t deny it, it felt good to grab “the King of Beers” as you celebrated our country’s independence. You could basically hear the chorus, “I’m proud to be an American,” in the background the second you took a sip.
I made that last part up, of course, but obviously Budweiser was effective for years in marketing its beer as the most American beer you could drink. I’m not really sure the beer changed but the whole thing where it’s owned by a company based in Belgium now does take away some of that ’Merica feeling when you drink one.
Budweiser is crisp and refreshing — it tastes like a beer — and especially when you’re enjoying a Fourth of July cookout, I think we all just want a beer that tastes like a beer.
There are countless craft breweries cranking out all-American lighter brews to whet your whistle on the Fourth of July and really all summer long.
Might I also add that while the price of IPAs and other craft brews has continued to climb to unprecedented highs, lighter styles, like Pilsners and kolsch, have remained closer to what I would call reasonable, when it comes to price.
Lighter brews in the mold of Budweiser, if I’m allowed to say that, are also lower in calories and in alcohol, making them more sessionable than a double IPA. Plus, on a screaming hot summer day at the beach, beside the pool or in the backyard, light and refreshing is the name of the game.
Here are three New Hampshire craft brews you can proudly crack on the Fourth of July as you watch the fireworks or listen to “I’m Proud to be American.”
Dad Reflex American Lager by Portsmouth Brewery (Portsmouth)
This “is a macro-style American Lager brewed in honor of the superhero dads out there who deserve a cold one after a long day of saving lives without trying, or mowing the lawn,” according to the brewery website, and while I haven’t actually had this, that description spoke to me as a dad. I keep reminding my wife I’m basically a superhero but I do think the third-party validation here might have more of an impact. Cold and refreshing, that’s what beer is about on the Fourth of July.
Beer Hall Lager by 603 Brewery (Londonderry)
Get out the frosted glass; this features your classic straw-yellow pour. The brew is light, crisp and flavorful with some lightly sweet fruity notes, balanced by subtle breadiness. Picture yourself with a hot dog in one hand and this brew in the other — it’s a good picture, aside from the mustard on your cheek. This one goes down very, very easily.
Lady of the Lake New England Lager by Able Ebenezer Brewing Co. (Merrimack)
Celebrating “the 150th anniversary of the M/S Mount Washington, and the history of New Hampshire’s Lakes Region,” according to the brewery, this brew stands out for its simplicity. You just don’t have to think about it. It has a touch of citrus and fruit but it’s really all about being crisp, bright, refreshing and, well, pleasing. I think it would be best enjoyed lakeside, of course, and it would be a perfect accompaniment to a fireworks show.
What’s in My Fridge Santilli American IPA by Night Shift Brewing Co. (Everett, Mass.) The brewery’s flagship American IPA, Santilli combines bright citrus, including grapefruit, and pronounced notes of pine. Every time I have one I wonder why I don’t keep this in my fridge at all times. I still don’t have an answer to that question. It’s just a terrific all-around IPA that you can drink anytime. Particularly with the prevalence of hazy, juicy New England IPAs, this is a refreshing change of pace when you want the hops but would like to hold the orange juice. Cheers.
Featured photo. Lady of the Lake New England Lager by Able Ebenezer Brewing Company. Courtesy photo.
My wife and I gather monthly for “wine dinners” with friends. As one would expect, the recurring event has a history that evolved over time. It began well before the pandemic hit when Tek Nique held monthly dinners, pairing selected wines with a five-course dinner. It was a great opportunity to learn about a line of wines and how the chef interpreted the wines, pairing them with exquisite American gourmet cuisine. The restaurant closed and the pandemic turned the world on end, but the camaraderie of the group remained strong. During the pandemic, there were any number of Zoom sessions with wine distributors selecting wines the group tasted and then critiqued over the joint Zoom meeting. During the months with fair weather, we gathered for “patio parties” with themes selected by the hosts. This month, we will host the group. We will serve La Paella.
Paella is one of the first things that comes to mind in Spanish cuisine. Its origins lie along the Mediterranean coast in Valencia and Catalonia. Paella is all about the rice — it must be a short-grain rice, high in starch. The best rice to use is bomba if you can find it; I use arborio, a close second. Next in importance is the pan. Paella must be cooked over high heat, uncovered, in a shallow pan. The ingredients in a paella can be a multitude, but the key ingredient is the sofrito, a sauté of vegetables, including onion, garlic, sometimes peppers, but always tomatoes. Olive oil, pimentón, and that element that defines paella, saffron! Beyond that, paella can be vegetarian, Valenciana (seafood and beans instead of rice), or my favorite, a mixed poultry and seafood paella.
What kind of wine do you pair with such rich and varied flavors, with the minerality that saffron imparts? First, I am a strong believer in cooking with wine, and it need not necessarily be added to the food! There are many wonderful cavas produced in northern Spain.
Segura Viudas Cava Brut (available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets for $14.99, reduced to $12.99) has a wonderful light, almost transparent color of straw. The vineyard has made history for 800 years and is one of the most awarded brands in wine and cava tasting, nationally and internationally. Made from 50 percent macabeo, 30 percent xarel-lo and 20 percent parellacia grapes, the wine has an elegant and persistent nose of tiny bubbles, delivering an aroma of dried white peaches, citrus, a bit of honey, and floral notes. It has a long, dry finish, luring you on to sip more and more while you prepare your sofrito.
For those who want something “light and bright” I suggest two whites. The Duquesa de Valladoid Rueda (available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets for $16.99, reduced to $14.99) has a pale straw color, with slight green hues. On the nose there are herbal aromas with hints of citrus flowers and minerality. Fresh and crisp on the palate, it features the acidity characteristic of the verdejo grape. It is akin to sauvignon blanc, but better. The other comes in a very colorful bottle: The Bodegas Langa Pi (available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets for $21.99) comes from Aragón. This wine is made from garnacha blanc grapes, a new varietal to me! It has notes of citrus, pear and honey. It is exceedingly dry with intense flavor and a long finish.
Rounding out our wine pairings are two reds. Borsao Tres Picos Garnacha (available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets for $19.99, reduced to $17.99) is made from 100 percent garnacha grapes. It has an intense red color, with a slight purple rim. To the nose the fruit is ripe, with slight floral notes. To the tongue blackberry and plum predominate. Marques de Murrieta Reserva 2015 Rioja (available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets for $31.99, reduced to $28.99) is a blend of 80 percent tempranillo, 12 percent graciano, 6 percent mazuello and 2 percent garnacha. This is a truly elegant wine, aged for 18 months in oak, obtaining high marks from Wine Spectator and Robert Parker. These reds are light and will not overpower the seafood and poultry in the paella but will work well with the minerality of the saffron.
Experiment! Expand your boundaries. Don’t be intimidated! Prepare a paella and try some wonderful Spanish wines. You will be glad you did!
Let’s say, hypothetically, that you are a teacher. You’ve finally broken down your classroom, covered all your bookcases with paper and answered the last of the emails from angry parents. Or, hypothetically, you’ve just pulled your last shift for the week at the convenience store, waiting on increasingly angry customers, who have never learned to say “Please” or “Good morning” and want to know why you, personally, have raised the price of gas.
Or, hypothetically, you’ve wrapped up another week at the DMV where—
You know what? Let’s just stipulate that you are feeling worn out and a little bit battered, emotionally, and now you’ve got a few precious hours to yourself to sit on the deck, or wallow around in an inflatable pool, and get your Cool back.
Because you are cool. You have distinct memories of being cool, sometime in the distant past. “You’re so cool!” somebody told you once. Or you think they did. Or was that a movie? It might be Samuel L. Jackson or Helen Mirren you are thinking of.
Anyway, you know that there is some cool floating around somewhere and you’re pretty sure you can absorb it, if you can just unclench your shoulders and let it soak into you.
Here’s an unsolicited suggestion of how to do that.
Step 1 – Music
Put on “Take 5” by Dave Brubeck or “A Taste of Honey” by Herb Alpert.
I know — this isn’t your usual music; it’s something you imagine some old, not-cool person would listen to. Trust me on this. You can listen to your regular country or heavy metal or Mongolian opera later. For now you need this very specific type of jazz. Remember that shoulder-unclenching we talked about before? This will help you do it.
Step 2 – Take Your Shoes Off
Do it. Even if you’ve been wearing sandals all day, sitting in bare feet will send a message to your clenching parts.
Step 3 – Drink This (It’s a Process)
Take Five
Ingredients
2 ounces mango-infused rum (see below)
1 ounce fresh squeezed lemon juice
¾ ounce rhubarb syrup (see below)
1 bottle or can of your favorite seltzer — I like Topo Chico
Combine the rum, lemon juice and syrup in a cocktail shaker, and shake over ice.
Pour into a tall Collins glass. Top with seltzer.
This will be sweet and tart and definitely like something somebody cool would drink, except—
Maybe? Maybe, it’s a little too sweet and boozy?
Take another sip to be sure.
Yup, just a little too concentrated. But, hey! Look at that! There’s an inch or so of room at the top of the glass now, for more seltzer. Top it off again.
Now, it’s perfect. **Sip, sip**
Oh — and look! There’s a little more room in the glass; better top it off again.
Still perfect. Slightly different, but absolutely delightful. **Sip, sip**
And again.
Eventually, you’ll run out of seltzer, which would be a really good excuse to make a second drink.
This time, try listening to Louis Armstrong sing, “Just One of Those Things.” Trust me.
Mango-Infused Rum
Combine 4 cups of white rum with 5 ounces or so of dried mango in your blender. Blend it to a rough-smoothie consistency.
Let the mixture steep for an hour or so, then strain it through a fine-meshed strainer and bottle. The mango will hold onto a fair amount of the rum, but you will be left with a beautiful, apricot-colored alcohol that will look really good in your liquor cabinet and taste like reggae music.
Rhubarb Syrup
Combine an equal amount, by weight, of frozen diced rhubarb and white sugar in a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb gives up its juice and the syrup mixture comes to a boil.
Remove from the heat, cover, and allow it to steep for one hour.
Strain through a fine-meshed strainer, pressing on the rhubarb to encourage any additional liquid to drain out.
Bottle the syrup, and keep it in your refrigerator. Add the juice of one lemon to the rhubarb, and eat it on ice cream.
Sure, I go through spells, often even prolonged spells, where I’m focused more on Pilsners or stouts, or brown ales or just trying new things.
Then I take my first sip of an IPA in a while, and it’s like that moment in a murder mystery when the detective puts all the pieces together — sort of an explosive epiphany. A classic “a-ha” moment.
It’s hard to describe that first sip but I think all IPA enthusiasts appreciate that moment after taking a break from the style. And I think we all have to take a break from time to time.
After a recent hiatus, I took a sip of an IPA called Lucidity by Greater Good Imperial Brewing Co. in Worcester, a brewery that is well-worth seeking out if you’re a fan of big IPAs, and it blew me away. The beer is super juicy up front but fades away into a clean, crisp and almost dry finish — it’s the kind of beer that refreshes any beer-drinkers’ love for IPAs.
IPAs greet your taste buds with bright, exciting flavors that seem to jump around in your mouth, providing almost like a cascade of flavor. The style can feature a wide range of flavors, including tropical fruits, citrus, pine, floral notes and so on, along with a bitterness that can run from mild to full-on bracing.
It’s also a style that perhaps stands to benefit the most from being enjoyed fresh, preferably right at the brewery or poured from a growler filled right at the tap. You can taste the freshness.
Yes, IPAs are a dime a dozen right now, and sometimes that’s frustrating when you’re looking for literally anything else at your local beer store, but there’s a reason why that’s the case.
Here are four New Hampshire IPAs to refresh your devotion to the style:
Safe Space by Concord Craft Brewing (Concord)
This is your classic New England IPA: juicy, hazy and smooth. With big notes of tropical fruit and citrus, this is a crowd-pleaser for sure. One of the things I like about the New England-style IPA is that it tends to come in at a bit lower ABV, just making it more approachable. This one sits at 6 percent ABV, which seems to be a very nice sweet spot for this style of IPAs.
Dwayne’s World by Stoneface Brewing Co. (Newington)
This is another New England IPA but this hits a different end of the spectrum, featuring big, bold flavors of mango, grapefruit and orange, in a package that comes in at 9 percent ABV. Go easy on this exciting brew, because it absolutely does not drink like it’s 9 percent ABV.
Long Brothers American IPA by Flying Goose Brew Pub (New London)
It’s difficult to describe styles within the IPA realm — seems to me there’s a good bit of overlap — but this is an American IPA, which I think tend to be a bit more intense on the palate. You’re still going to get big flavor notes from the hops but it’s a little more bracing and a little less what you might call juicy. This is extremely well-balanced and features some nice complexity.
Miles and Miles by Henniker Brewing Co. (Henniker)
This is a perfect session IPA, giving you just enough IPA character to satisfy your taste buds, in a lighter, lower ABV package. It’s drinkable, it’s tasty and you can have more than one.
What’s in My Fridge Bourbon Barrel-Aged Framinghammer by Jack’s Abby Craft Lagers (Framingham, Mass.) This Baltic porter is luscious, rich, decadent — pick your descriptor. This is a beer worth savoring. It’s also super boozy (12 percent ABV) and filled with deep notes of bourbon, chocolate, oak and maybe some vanilla. The brew is quite complex, boasting layers upon layers of flavor. The brewery puts out a number of versions of its barrel-aged Framinghammer, including salted caramel, French toast, coffee and tiramisu versions; every version I’ve tried has been delicious. Cheers.
Featured photo. Lucidity by Greater Good Imperial Brewing Co. Courtesy photo.
In her Little House books Laura Ingalls Wilder made a big deal out of the changing of the seasons. Fall was an obvious one with all the emphasis on the harvest, etc., but springtime was also a really big deal for her.
In one of the books — I don’t specifically remember which one — she goes into a four- or five-page reverie about her mother making the first salad of the year. She describes the lettuce that she grew, and how her ma would make a dressing out of bacon drippings and vinegar.
“Oh, Ma!” the barefoot kids would cry, “Salad!”
“Hooray! Salad!”
“By gum, Caroline,” her Pa would say, “You beat everyone else all hollow for making salad!”
And Ma would blush, and admit that while it wasn’t perfect, it was, in fact, a pretty good salad.”
And I, as a child of the ’70s, would stop reading briefly, and shout at the book.
“Seriously, people! It’s a salad! Get over it!”
What I didn’t or couldn’t realize at the time was that this frontier family had just come off a winter of living on potatoes, salt pork and hardtack, and now even the potatoes were gone. They all had early-stage rickets and scurvy. Fresh, leafy greens must have hit their systems like a vitamin A speedball.
Now, while we haven’t spent the winter locked up in a one-room shanty on the prairie, we are coming off a long takeout and frozen dinner jag. Many of us have spent the past week or two standing in our gardens, hands on hips, staring down at the seedlings and going, “WELL?!”
The big stuff — the cucumbers, tomatoes, and corn — is still a long way off, but we are starting to get a few tiny things, vegetable flirtations, if you will, from our gardens.
Springtime Cocktail #1
Peas and mint are a classic combination. My question was a matter of ratios — how much mint to how many peas?
I looked through many, many recipes and found very little agreement. But Martha Stewart advised 10 ounces of peas to 1/3 cup of mint leaves, and if there is anyone I would put blind trust in on this matter, it would be Martha.
The great thing about this recipe is that aside from washing the peas and mint, you don’t have to pluck, chop or process them in any fussy way.
Preparing the gin:
1/3 cup (8 grams) fresh mint — Don’t worry about plucking the leaves. The stems will work well here, too.
10 ounces fresh sugar snap peas or snow peas in their pods
10 ounces (285 grams) medium-quality gin — I used Gordon’s
Measure all three ingredients into a blender — a kitchen scale is excellent for this.
Blend thoroughly for a minute or so.
Leave the mixture to steep for an hour.
Strain with a fine-meshed kitchen strainer.
Your yield will be about a cup (8 ounces) of Bright Green Gin — enough for four cocktails.
The cocktail itself:
2 ounces Bright Green Gin
1 ounce fresh squeezed lemon juice
¾ ounce amaretto
Combine all ingredients with ice in a cocktail shaker.
Shake.
Strain into a chilled coupe glass.
This is what I call a classic Utility Cocktail recipe — two parts alcohol, one part citrus juice, ¾ part syrup or liqueur.
Amaretto has a reputation of being a bully and taking over any drink it’s a part of. When used judiciously, it is an excellent team player. Peas go extremely well with mint – that’s a given. They also go with lemon and with almonds. All these ingredients play extremely well together.
The first thing you notice, of course, is the color, a bright vibrant green that even the amaretto won’t dull. The pea flavor is distinct but not overly assertive. The acid of the lemon juice brightens everything up.
It is startlingly delicious.
And holds off scurvy. There’s no sense in taking chances.
(One observation: The Bright Green Gin has a short shelf life. It will start losing its vibrant color and flavor within a couple of hours, so it is best to drink it right away. This is a perfect before-dinner cocktail to share with friends, or for two of you to have two apiece.)
Featured photo. Springtime Cocktail. Photo by John Fladd.
Two reds that show off the diversity of French grapes
France is the largest country in western Europe. In the continent overall, it is second only to Ukraine and Russia, located at the eastern edges of the continent. However, the country is slightly smaller in area to the combined square miles of Colorado and Wyoming. It is smaller than the state of Texas, yet it has some of the most diverse terrain and climate of any of the wine-producing European nations. The terrain ranges from the mountainous edges of the Alps and Pyrenees to the rolling hills and plains to the north of Paris. And climate is influenced by these extremes, from the warm Mediterranean sun on its southern shores to the cool, sometimes rainy northern shores. Given this diversity of terroir, we are blessed with a full array of wines to sip or enjoy with our friends at dinner.
Our first wine, a 2019 Pascal et Alain Lorieux Chinon Red Loire Wine (originally $54.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets, reduced to $24.99), is a creation of 100 percent cabernet franc grapes. These grapes are grown worldwide and are principally used for blending with other varietals, such as in Bordeaux-style wines, where they are blended with cabernet sauvignon and merlot. Cabernet sauvignon and merlot grapes can trace their beginnings to cabernet franc grapes. This wine comes from the Chinon appellation, along the Loire River Valley. This appellation has been vinifying cabernet franc wines since sometime in the 17th century. In general the cabernet franc grape is similar to the cabernet sauvignon but buds and ripens at least a week earlier, allowing it to thrive in cooler climates than cabernet sauvignon, such as in the Loire Valley.
This grape adapts to a wide variety of vineyard soils. We have said before that terroir affects the grape, the color and the notes of a wine, and this is certainly true of cabernet franc. The soils of the Chinon appellation are a chalky limestone and produce a heavier, more full-bodied wine. Cabernet franc coming from the Finger Lakes Region of New York, with its gravel-based soils, tends to be a bit “thinner” than this Loire Valley wine. However, it has nonetheless taken off in the region because it produces wines of better quality and because of its ability to ripen more reliably than other reds.
The wine has a beautiful deep garnet color, producing notes of red cherries and raspberries, along with some slight undertones of plum and blackberries. The tannins are slight, with notes of cedar. This is a rich, soft wine that we paired with hamburgers, grilled to be very rare and then loaded with blue cheese and mushrooms. This wine turned the simple meal into one of elegance.
Our next wine comes from the south of France, only about a seven-hour drive from Chinon, but a world away in climate and soils. The 2020 Réserve des Diacres Châteauneuf-d-Pape (originally $39.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets, reduced to $23.99) is a classic southern Rhône wine. The color is a slightly transparent purple; to the nose there are plums and blackberries. These notes follow through on the tongue, with a solid, dry presence, not “jammy” but still full of fruit and bold. There is alcohol at 14.4 percent, but it doesn’t burn your nose.
To look at the label, one would think this is a winter wine. While not a sipping wine, this is an excellent accompaniment to grilled lamb, or low-fire grilled rustic vegetables in olive oil. The wine is blended by Baptiste Grangeon, owner and winemaker at Domaine De Crista, a vineyard and winery situated on some of the best soils in the southern Rhône valley. To create an affordable wine, he sourced grapes from three different terroirs within the region, with a sand and limestone base, topped by the famous river-washed rock that holds the heat of the midday sun. The grapes are principally grenache, blended with syrah. The grenache is high in sugars, thus producing high alcoholic wines. The syrah introduces just enough “jammy” fruit to soften the grenache. This is a beautiful wine to enjoy with a backyard barbeque.
Two different wines from one country, offering widely different notes to the palate, provide one with an opportunity to enjoy a wide spectrum of experiences. Enjoy your barbecue!
Years ago, I would team up with my brother and two close friends for an annual fishing trip, a true “guys” weekend, bringing together a day of fishing and, you guessed it, beer.
We’d camp the night before, cook dinner (hot dogs) over a fire, share stories and drink some beer. We’d awaken in the still-dark hours the next morning and board a boat, coolers in hand, and we’d spend the bulk of the day trying to catch fish — and drinking beer.
How early is too early to crack a beer? Does time even exist on the water?
We’d troll for stripers and bluefish for hours, taking turns reeling in fish and passing beers and more stories. Aside from just enjoying fishing and beer, there was something therapeutic about being on the water with good friends and some good craft beer.
In what can only be described as a stunning development, particularly with all that beer involved, we no longer go on these fishing trips due to fairly consistent seasickness.
Whether you’re on land or on a boat or wading in a river, and whether you’re by yourself or sharing stories with friends, there is just something about fishing and beer. I’m quite certain beer doesn’t help you do a better job of catching fish, but I’m just as certain beer does, in fact, help make for a better overall experience, in moderation of course.
For me, enjoying a beer while fishing does help me ease up a bit on the rod, as I can sort of lose myself and grip it just a bit too tight otherwise — so that’s something.
This might be a touch of bologna, but when I’m fishing, I feel like I’m more in touch with my surroundings. I’m paying attention to the conditions, the flow of the water, the breeze, the scenery and so on. I’m trying to spot fish or bait or any activity that might point me toward fish. The slightest ripple or splash could be the indicator.
A quality craft brew isn’t going to enhance my senses, of course, but I think in that frame of mind, I’m able to enjoy and savor the beer perhaps more than usual. Maybe it’s just because I’m doing something I love.
There’s no right or wrong beer when it comes to fishing, but here are three New Hampshire brews I would certainly enjoy while fishing.
8 Weight Double IPA by Northwoods Brewing Co. (Northwood)
It just feels right to kick this off with a beer from a brewery whose logo is a fishing fly and with a beer named after a fishing rod. As the brewery points out, eight weight fly rods are generally used in saltwater to handle big fish. This brew is bold, but as the brewery notes, it “balances bitterness, sweetness and booziness.” Still piney, this beer is big on citrus flavors and booze as it comes in at 8.6 percent ABV. This would be a great one to enjoy as you wrap up a day of fishing.
Hoppy Saison with Mosaic & Ella by Stoneface Brewing Co. (Newington)
Saisons are just interesting. They feature such a range of flavors. They can be fruity, spicy, earthy — and they can be all of those things at once. This one features some pronounced fruit notes up front, but finishes crisp and dry. Fairly light-bodied and sessionable at 5.5 percent ABV, this is packed with flavor and complexity. This would be perfect to enjoy during an early summer afternoon streamside.
Four Rivers Red by Concord Craft Brewing (Concord)
I just love the deep color of this brew. While this is extremely drinkable, it has a richness to it that sets it apart. It’s malty, just a tiny bit sweet and very smooth. It gives you a touch of complexity to ponder as you fish New Hampshire’s many lakes and ponds.
What’s in My Fridge She Sells Seashells by Throwback Brewing (North Hampton) This salted blond all is crisp, flavorful and refreshing and perfect on a screaming hot summer day. Cheers.
When we think of summer drinking, cocktails usually aren’t the first thing to spring to mind.
We imagine a friend tossing a cold can of beer to someone at a clam bake, or sharing a bottle of chardonnay on ice on the deck of your summer house in the Hamptons. (I assume that you are a fancier person than me; it sort of goes without saying.) Mixed drinks fall somewhat farther down on the list.
But when we do get to actual cocktails, I, at least, find myself thinking about pitcher drinks. The idea of sharing extremely cold drinks with a group of friends seems really appealing. So let’s look at five summer drinks that lend themselves to pitcher-izing.
Because drinking cocktails by the pitcher is a generally social activity, let’s look at some potential parties that don’t require a huge amount of effort but complement those drinks. At the same time, that intensity of socializing can be stressful for some people, so let’s also include two summer drinks that lend themselves to drinking quietly and alone.
Getting Started – How to Scale Up a Cocktail Recipe
At first glance, making drinks by the pitcher seems pretty straightforward — just multiply each ingredient by the number of people you want to serve.
As soon as you start to do that, however, things get confusing.
“I want to make five of these, but will they fit in that pitcher? And what about the ice? Is there some sort of formula to calculate the volume of ice cubes? Does pi get involved somewhere in there? HONEY? DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT PI IS?”
As it turns out, math is involved, but it’s friendly Schoolhouse Rock-type math, not the “Two trains leave the station traveling in opposite directions” type.
• First, get yourself a pitcher. I used a standard 60-ounce food service pitcher — the type you would get drinks in at most restaurants. I wanted to be authentic about all this, so I bought it at a restaurant supply store.
• Next, add ice. It doesn’t matter what type of ice you use at this point — the stuff your freezer makes for you, ice tray ice, novelty shaped ice from a silicone mold, block ice that you’ve attacked with an ice pick (and if you’ve never tried that before, I heartily recommend it) — any of it will work. Fill the pitcher up about 1/3 of the way with the ice of your choice.
• Just add water. Top your pitcher off with water. It doesn’t have to be to the extreme, worrying-about-spilling-it top — just fill it to the level that suits you. The amount of water you just added is the same volume as the drinks you will want to make in this pitcher.
• Measure the water. This is where the math comes in. Remain calm. Pour the water out into a separate container, so you can measure it. Use a kitchen strainer and another pitcher or a large bowl to hold the water. Now measure it.
I like to use a digital kitchen scale, because mine has an option to measure ingredients in milliliters. If you want to use a scale but it doesn’t have the milliliter option, grams will work just as well. (Important tip: If you are a pharmacist, grams and milliliters are not the same thing. If you’re cooking or mixing drinks at home, they pretty much are.)
Alternatively, measure the water with your largest measuring cup. If yours has measurements along one side in fluid ounces, you are golden. Just write down how many ounces of water you just poured out.
The rest of us will have to do some calculations.
For instance, according to my kitchen scale, the non-ice volume of my pitcher is 1,240 ml. A quick internet calculation — “Convert 1,240 ml to fluid ounces” — indicates that I’m looking at a final cocktail volume of around 42 fluid ounces.
A pitcher with a drink-ready amount of ice. Photo by John Fladd.
Let’s say I’m making a pitcher of daiquiris. My recipe calls for two ounces of rum, an ounce of fresh-squeezed lime juice, and ¾ of an ounce of simple syrup. That works out to 3.75 ounces.
Now the math. Are you ready?
Divide the big number by the small number.
That’s it.
42 divided by 3.75 equals 11.2. Let’s round that out to 11. (You are welcome to round up or down freely; you can make up any difference with more or less ice.)
Now I know that for a pitcher of this particular drink I’ll need to multiply each ingredient by 11. I’ll make each round of drinks in the pitcher, adding the ice last, to bring the volume up to where I want it.
Which means that it’s time for a party.
Party #1: A Piñata Party
When my wife and I got married, we decided to have a backyard cookout for our rehearsal dinner. My wife planned the menu, chose the music, cooked five or six different side dishes, coordinated parking and got hotel rooms — in distantly separate hotels — for my parents.
I bought a piñata.
In my defense, the piñata was a solid call. My friends and family exist in a swamp of anxiety and social awkwardness that would intimidate the reed marshes of the Nile Delta. It was somewhat inevitable that at some point one of my friends would tell an off-color joke to a nun, or my mother would have a “just-being-honest” moment. If — OK, when — things got tense, I could shout out, “Hey, everybody! It’s piñata time!” We’d break open a piñata, people would be distracted, and we could quietly shuffle the conversation groups around.
I bought a piñata shaped like a large, red parrot. Because this was a special occasion, I went to a chocolate store and bought a couple hundred round, foil-wrapped truffles, and filled Polly pretty much to the top. I put her on the stairs leading up from the basement, where she would stay cool but we wouldn’t forget her.
On the day of the rehearsal, my soon-to-be father-in-law kept tripping over the parrot. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was in his way, so he relocated it to the kitchen counter, where he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
The piñata was now in my soon-to-be mother-in-law’s way, so she tasked my 6-year-old nephew with finding someplace to put it. He put it in the only empty space he could find — in the sun on the deck.
To make a long story short – several hours later, things did get awkward and tense at the dinner. I did announce “piñata time!” My new brother-in-law laid into the piñata with an awesome move he’d seen in a samurai movie. The piñata burst, splattering everyone at the party with melted chocolate. My wife’s maid of honor made a joke about “parrot blood” and a small child cried so hard that she did that dancing-in-place thing that only truly traumatized kids can do.
So, what I’m saying is that I’m a big fan of piñatas. And as such, I’d like to put in a word for making your own.
(1) Professionally made piñatas are built like dump trucks. They are almost impossible for casual, perhaps slightly inebriated, party-goers to break with a stick. This makes sense when you consider that they have to survive shipping from the piñata factory intact. If you make your own out of papier mâché, you can make it as fragile as you like.
(2) The hole in a standard piñata is about the size of a golf ball, which severely limits creative stuffing options. If you make your own piñata, you can leave a large access hole, fill it, then paper over the hole. In the reference photo to the right, I have filled my partially completed piñata with a copy of the Mr. Boston Bartending Guide, 10 pairs of socks and a can of chickpeas, with enough room left over for a live cat. [Editor’s note: This is just a fanciful amount-of-space descriptor. Do not attempt to put a live cat in a piñata. Don’t @ us, cats.]
What drink accompanies a piñata?
A margarita is a summertime classic; a cucumber one, doubly so. There are only three ingredients in this, so you will probably want to splurge on a decent tequila. The bar in Albuquerque where I first had this suggested Hornitos. Who am I to argue with them? This is a pitcher-drink natural.
One Cucumber Margarita
3 slices (~45 grams) cucumber with skin
2 ounces Blanco tequila – I prefer Hornitos
1 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice
¾ ounce cucumber syrup (see below)
Muddle the cucumber slices thoroughly in the bottom of a cocktail shaker.
Add ice, lime juice, syrup and tequila. Shake until very cold.
Strain into a chilled rocks or margarita glass.
A Pitcher of Cucumber Margarita
1 medium cucumber, unpeeled and sliced – about 300 grams.
22 ounces blanco tequila – roughly 3 cups
11 ounces fresh squeezed lime juice
7 ounces cucumber syrup – one scant cup
Muddle the cucumber slices in the bottom of your pitcher. I use the pestle from my largest mortar and pestle — it’s about the size of a billy club — but a potato masher would work well, too.
Add the lime juice, syrup and tequila. Stir gently but thoroughly. Top the pitcher off with ice, and stir again.
This pitcher recipe is deliberately a little intense. If you prepare it about 20 minutes before serving, the ice will dilute it just enough. It will be perfect.
Cucumber Syrup
Ingredients
Equal amounts, by weight, of cucumbers and white sugar. Any type of cucumber — whatever makes you happy, or is threatening to take over your garden.
Wash, but don’t peel, the cucumber. Chop it to a medium dice.
Freeze the cucumber chunks for an hour or so. Ice crystals will form and perforate the cell walls inside the cucumber, making it more enthusiastic about giving up its juice.
Combine the frozen cucumber and sugar in a saucepan, over medium heat, stirring occasionally. As it thaws, the cucumber will start giving off a surprising amount of liquid. You really won’t need to add any water.
As more liquid appears, mash the cucumber with a potato masher, just to encourage the process along.
Bring the mixture to a boil, and let it boil for 15 or 20 more seconds, to make sure the sugar is completely dissolved into solution.
Remove the pan from heat, cover, and steep for 30 minutes.
Mash with the potato masher one more time, then strain and bottle.
This isn’t actually a step, but have some of this cucumber syrup on your yogurt. You will start smiling at people in traffic.
Cucumber Margarita and Tres Leches Cake. Photo by John Fladd.
Julia Child once said that any party without cake is just a meeting. She was very wise.
If you aren’t familiar with Tres Leches Cake, you are in for the dessert ride of your life. It is the Prince of Cakes and a perfect accompaniment to our margarita and piñata.
Tres Leches Cake
Ingredients
1 boxed yellow cake mix + ingredients needed to bake it.
1 12-ounce can evaporated milk
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1 cup (8 ounces) half & half
2 cups heavy cream
simple syrup to taste
Prepare the boxed cake mix according to instructions, in a 9×13” pan.
Allow it to cool thoroughly.
Using skewers or sharp chopsticks, poke holes in the cake, every ½ inch or so.
Mix evaporated milk, condensed milk and half & half together in a large measuring cup.
Pour over the cake, still in its pan. It will puddle on top; do not panic. The cake will eventually absorb all three milks (todos de tres leches).
Cover and chill in the refrigerator for at least eight hours. This cake is at its best ice-cold. The extra time in the fridge will also allow the cake and milk mixture to meld at an almost philosophical level.
Just before serving, whip the heavy cream with just enough simple syrup to be lightly sweet. Cover the cake with the whipped cream.
“Wait a second!” you say. “That’s not tres leches! The whipped cream makes it cuatro leches!”
And you’re right, of course. Nevertheless, whether or not this cake is misnamed, you will become a convert after your first — then your inevitable second, third, etc. — bite.
Do you remember mushing birthday cake together with vanilla ice cream when you were a kid? The mixture of cake and ice cream was one of the best parts of going to a birthday party. This is like that — only thought out and designed to provide the perfect cake-to-dairy ratio. The slightly stodgy sweetness of the cake is balanced by the ice-cold milk glaze that you have soaked it with. If you use a light hand with sugar syrup in the whipped cream, you will balance the in-your-face nature of the dairy-soaked cake with something unexpected: subtlety.
Party #2: A Tomato Brunch
Burrata is the piñata of cheese.
Imagine a shiny, white, perfectly smooth ball of mozzarella, sitting modestly on a plate.
Now, imagine an Italian hand model — let’s call her Bianca — picking up a silver serving knife, and gently but firmly cutting into it, revealing an inside filled with cream and a fluffy über-cheese called stracciatella.
We might stand in a mild state of shocked wonder, and think vaguely about asking for some of this burrata — because that is what it is called, burrata — but we wait just a little too long and miss our window of opportunity. Bianca deftly transfers the burrata — mozzarella, stracciatella and all — to a serving platter and carries it out to the balcony, where a count in a tweed jacket waits for her.
Steven Freeman thinks about this sort of thing a lot. Freeman is the owner of Angela’s Pasta and Cheese Shop in Manchester, and he takes burrata very seriously. Even more so the stracciatella that it is filled with.
“If you love burrata, you will lust after stracciatella,” he assures me.
He is feeling extremely ardent about stracciatella at the moment, because after many, many months of trying to get his hands on some, he has finally tracked down a source and has started selling it in his store. He assures me that if I were to eat fresh stracciatella with perfectly ripe tomatoes and pink salt, I might reassess some of my priorities in life.
I buy some stracciatella and hunt down a really good tomato. I take the pair home, thank the tomato for the sacrifice it is about to make, then slice it up and spoon some of the cheese onto it.
Bloody Maria served with sliced tomatoes and stracciatella. Photo by John Fladd.
Freeman wasn’t lying.
I mean, I’m not going to quit my job and abandon my family to run off with a pint of Italian cheese or anything, but it is very, very good. It is intensely creamy and is perfectly set off by the acidity of the tomato.
Which reminds me that we are only a month or so away from tomato season and when the really good tomatoes hit the farmers markets, we should have a tomato party. Or in this case, a brunch.
For the food, I suggest tomatoes, olives and cheese. Perhaps some pumpernickel toast, if you are feeling especially adventurous.
For the beverage, there is really only one logical candidate, when you think about it: bloody marys, or bloody marias, in this case. Contrasting fresh, ripe tomatoes with a perfectly seasoned glass of tomato juice with a hint of tequila in the background will make for an excellent accompaniment to nice people and good conversation.
One Bloody Maria
2 ounces Blanco tequila – again, I prefer Hornitos
4 ounces freshly squeezed tomato juice (see below)
½ ounce fresh squeezed lemon juice
1½ teaspoon prepared horseradish
½ teaspoon miso paste
1 teaspoon of your favorite hot sauce
A pinch of celery salt
A pinch of freshly ground black pepper
Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice.
Shake vigorously, for longer than you normally would — at least one full minute — to make sure the miso dissolves completely.
Pour into a tall glass and for the sake of all that is good and decent in the Universe, please do not garnish the glass with 72 items. They would only distract from the tomato-ness of the situation.
If you have gotten a decent batch of tomatoes, sitting with pleasant company and actually paying attention to your bloody maria will be a bit of a revelation. A perfectly ripe tomato (see below) is a complex and beautiful fruit. Its natural sweetness and acidity will play off the savoriness of the miso and the bite of heat from your hot sauce.
A Pitcher of Bloody Marias
14 ounces Blanco tequila – 1¾ cups
28 ounces fresh squeezed tomato juice (see below)
3½ ounces fresh squeezed lemon juice
3½ Tablespoons prepared horseradish
3½ teaspoons miso paste
3½ teaspoons hot sauce of your choice
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon celery salt
If you have a very large jar with a tight-fitting lid, add all the ingredients to that, then seal and shake it vigorously. If you do not own such a jar, add all the ingredients to your pitcher, then blend briefly with an immersion blender. If you do not own a large jar or an immersion blender, add all the ingredients to your pitcher, then mix vigorously with a whisk.
If you have not done so yet, transfer the mixture to your pitcher, then top it off with ice.
Serve in tall glasses and drink while listening to Herb Alpert.
Homemade Tomato Juice
To make the really good stuff, you’re going to have to search through the farmers market for the right person. You can look over the tomatoes themselves, but ultimately you are going to have to put your fate in the hands of the person selling them.
Establish your credentials by telling them that you are making bloody marys — specifically, bloody marias. He or she will nod, unsmiling, at you. If they ask how many tomatoes you want, get six pounds. That sounds like a lot, but it is what you need.
The tomatoes you get will not be pretty, but like the person you chose to sell them to you, they have seen some things. These will be tomatoes with some mileage on them.
How to juice your tomatoes:
Wash your tomatoes, but don’t bother to core or peel them.
Working in batches if you have to, blitz them in your blender.
Strain them through a fine-mesh strainer.
In a large pot, bring the tomato juice and two teaspoons of salt to a boil.
Remove from heat and chill overnight in the refrigerator.
Tomatoes have a naturally occurring enzyme that kills off a lot of their flavor if they are exposed to cold temperatures. Bringing the juice to a boil neutralizes those enzymes and allows some of the more subtle flavors of the tomatoes to remain, even after chilling.
Party #3: A French Fry Party
Last year, we threw a french fry party.
It was supposed to celebrate a crop of really spectacular potatoes that I had raised over the summer, but the potatoes had other ideas and we ended up just buying potatoes and frying them ourselves. The party was extremely successful, but custom-frying that many potatoes turned out to be extremely labor-intensive.
French 75 served with your guests’ french fry favorites. Photo by John Fladd.
So I’ve had an idea: We invite extremely nice and cool people — more or less the same friends we had over last year — but each of them needs to bring a bag of their favorite frozen potatoes and an air fryer if they have one. We set up air fryers at strategic points around the kitchen and dining room, and each guest can make their own custom french fry mixture — hypothetically, a combination of shoelace fries, tater tots and smiley-face fries.
And to drink? A couple of years ago, a major Champagne producer announced that the perfect drink pairing with french fries is — surprise, surprise — Champagne.
I’ll buy that — I can see where a Champagne enthusiast would really like the contrast of the cold, dry bubbly and the hot, salty fries — but I think we can take things a step further, to a classic cocktail called a French 75. Champagne still plays a lead role, but it is backed up by gin, lemon juice and simple syrup. In this iteration I’ve subbed out the simple syrup for a slightly less simple rhubarb syrup, which adds an extra element of complexity to this drink and gives it a pretty, pink color.
One French 75
1 ounce dry gin – I like Wiggly Bridge for this
½ ounce fresh squeezed lemon juice
½ ounce rhubarb syrup (see below)
3 ounces Champagne
In a cocktail shaker, combine gin, lemon juice and rhubarb syrup, over ice. Shake vigorously.
Strain into a Champagne flute. Top with Champagne.
Feel very classy as you drink this, in between snarfing down your fries.
A Large-ish Batch of French 75s
It is totally possible to prepare this drink ahead of time, at least partially, but it requires some more math. A single French 75 calls for three ounces of Champagne. A standard bottle of sparkling wine contains 750 milliliters, or just over 25 fluid ounces. That means that we should prepare enough non-Champagne mixture for eight cocktails for every bottle of Champagne.
8 ounces dry gin
4 ounces fresh squeezed lemon juice
4 ounces rhubarb syrup (see below)
1 bottle Brut Champagne
Using a funnel, fill an empty bottle — a fancy decanter, if you have one — with the gin, lemon juice and rhubarb syrup. Cap and shake to combine.
Chill for several hours, or overnight.
To serve, pour two ounces of the mixture into each Champagne flute, then top with Champagne.
Rhubarb Syrup
Wash, then chop fresh rhubarb to a medium dice, then freeze overnight. Alternatively, buy pre-frozen, pre-chopped rhubarb.
In a saucepan, combine the frozen rhubarb and an equal amount (by weight) of white sugar and a pinch of salt.
Cook, stirring occasionally, over medium heat. Bring the mixture to a boil, to fully dissolve any sugar into solution.
Remove from heat, cover, and allow to steep for 30 minutes.
Strain and bottle. This should keep in your refrigerator for about a month.
Party #4: Scorpion Bowl for One
“This is all well and good,” you might say, “if I were a Party Person. I used to think I liked parties, but at this point in my life, after a long week at work, the only socializing I want to do is with my houseplants.”
That’s a fair point. Let’s see what we can do for you.
A Scorpion Bowl for One (and maybe your houseplant). Photo by John Fladd.
Many of us went through a phase in our youth of ordering absurd numbers of absurd drinks. Perhaps the most absurd of those drinks was the Scorpion Bowl.
Scorpion Bowls — a mixture of fruit juices and injudicious amounts of alcohol — were always served in elaborate bowls with several straws. The conceit of the cocktail is that it was supposed to be shared with a group of friends. In point of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anyone sharing one.
But can we re-engineer a Scorpion Bowl to bring that same sense of adventure to an evening with the houseplants, without the dread of danger that accompanied it in our youth?
A Traditional Scorpion Bowl
2 ounces fresh squeezed lime juice
4 ounces fresh squeezed orange juice
1½ ounces simple syrup, or better yet, rhubarb syrup (see above)
2 ounces orgeat (almond syrup)
2 ounces brandy
4 ounces dry gin
4 ounces golden rum
Divide the amount of ice that you would normally put in your pitcher in half. Put one half in your pitcher.
Add all the ingredients to the ice in your pitcher.
Wrap your remaining ice in a tea towel. Beat it mercilessly with a blunt object, until the ice is shattered into several different-sized pieces.
Add the brutalized ice to your pitcher and stir to combine all ingredients together.
Pour into a large bowl or flower vase and garnish with several oversized straws to help sell the lie that this will be shared.
A Scorpion Bowl for One
⅔ ounce fresh squeezed lime juice
1⅓ ounces fresh squeezed orange juice
½ ounce simple or rhubarb syrup (see above)
⅔ ounce orgeat (almond syrup)
⅔ ounce brandy
1⅓ ounces dry gin
1⅓ ounces golden rum
Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker.
Wrap 15 or so ice cubes in a tea towel and shatter them with a blunt object.
Add the shattered ice to the shaker and shake your cocktail thoroughly.
Pour unstrained into a tiki glass or other whimsical container. Drink with one straw.
The genius of a Scorpion Bowl is that someone very carefully made a list of classic Tiki drink ingredients and chose seven that complement each other beautifully. The limes are sour and acidic. The oranges are sweet and acidic. The syrups smooth out the acidity, which in turn keeps the syrups from making things sickly sweet. Almond is a classic, get-along-with-everybody ingredient and serves as a bridge between the different liquors, which might not get along with each other otherwise.
Party #5: Just You and Jackie O’
“Alas,” I hear you sigh. “Even that is a little more intense than I was looking for. I want something I can enjoy with a good book in the hours after I load the kids on the bus to summer camp. Do you have anything like that?”
The Jackie O’s Rose, for a quiet moment. Photo by John Fladd.
As it happens, I do. Let’s set you up with a Jackie O’s Rose.
Think of this as a rose-kissed daiquiri. It’s a combination of standard daiquiri ingredients — white rum, simple syrup and lime juice — with a drop or two of orange curacao and a hint of rose water. The lime and the rum are extremely refreshing, and the rose water makes it a tiny bit exotic. It’s a very good sitting-by-yourself cocktail. It asks nothing of you. It just sits with you and enjoys your company.
Jackie O’s Rose
2 ounces white rum
½ ounce orange curacao
1 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice
½ ounce simple syrup
½ teaspoon rose water
Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker, and shake with ice.
Pour into any glass you choose. Strain the ice out if you want to, or leave it in. This is a very undemanding drink.
Drink in calm and silence.
A Pitcher of Jackie O’s Rose
20 ounces white rum
5 ounces orange curacao
10 ounces fresh squeezed lime juice
5 ounces simple syrup
1 ounce rose water
Combine all ingredients in a pitcher.
Top with ice.
Stir.
Serve in a variety of glasses and teacups.
Yes, I know. You wanted to be alone. But what if you’ve got four friends who want to sit quietly with you?
Memorial Day weekend! Seems like just yesterday we were still blowing snow, but now the heat is upon us. Temperatures and the pollen count are rising, but after our long, cold winters it is time to get out and enjoy the great outdoors. What better way to do that than to barbeque our favorites: beef, pork, chicken, fish, vegetables and, yes, fruit! Everything tastes better when cooked and eaten outdoors! And we welcome the opportunity to try out new marinades, toppings, recipes.
While your food is on the grill, you need something to “wet your whistle.” I suggest something light and summery. Our first wine fits that description perfectly. The 2020 Ruffino Lumina Pinot Grigio Delle Venezie,available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets, originally priced at $11.99 and reduced to $8.99, is a medium-bodied, lively and elegant Italian white wine. Made from grapes harvested in the vineyards of Delle Venezie, northeastern Italy, this wine offers delicious flavors of crisp golden apple, citrus and pear. Ruffino’s status was well-established when its Chianti won awards in the fourth quarter of the 19th century. This wine carries on that reputation by Ruffino’s sourcing premium grapes, combined with traditional wine-making processes of fermentation in temperature-controlled stainless steel tanks. Chilled, this wine can be sipped alone or paired with light fare such as prosciutto, cheese, a bruschetta or a light salad.
Our next wine, the 2021 Joel Gott California Sauvignon Blanc, available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets, originally $13.99 and reduced to $10.99, is the perfect complement to grilled shrimp, scallops, swordfish, or marinated and grilled chicken and vegetables. The wine has a bright straw color. Citric notes greet the nose, along with other fruit — melons and peaches. On the palate, bright tropical notes appear with strong acidity, followed by a crisp finish of sweet red grapefruit. The 100 percent sauvignon blanc grapes come from Sonoma and Lake counties to Monterey and Santa Barbara. Why the diverse vineyard locations? According to the Joel Gott website, Sonoma vineyards offer flavor and complexity, Lake vineyard offer citric notes, and Monterey tropical notes. Santa Barbara grapes offer minerality, and this blending of grapes across hundreds of miles produces a balanced, food-friendly wine.
For those who are drawn to red wines rather than white, a bottle of Beaujolais, made from the gamay grape, is the wine to pair with grilled chicken, hamburgers, grilled pork, sausage, salmon or tuna.The 2018 Robert Debuissson Beaujolais-Villages, available at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets, originally $16.99 and reduced to $8.99, is a wine that can work with a wide variety of entrees. In the glass the color is a deep cherry red with slight purple tints. To the nose the wine is fresh with strawberries and cherries. The fruit persists on the tongue with a lightness that allows it to pair well with rich, oily fish such as salmon and tuna or grilled chicken and still be bold enough to be paired to hamburgers. This is a fruity wine with light tannins and a soft texture that is somewhat lower in alcoholic content than more robust reds.
For steak-lovers there is no better match than a wine from Bordeaux. The 2016 Château La Gorre Cru Bourgeois from Medoc, originally priced at $49.99 and reduced to $23.99, is a superb blend of 60 percent merlot, 35 percent cabernet sauvignon and 5 percent petit verdot. The color is ruby red; there is rich, deep blackberry, plum and cherries on the nose with more fruit, leather, and spice on the tongue. The right amount of tannins from aging on oak makes this a balanced bottle of wine, but these tannins dictate the bottle should be decanted a couple of hours in advance to allow it to open. This is a great wine to be drunk now or cellared to be enjoyed with that steak in a couple of years.
Warming weather begs us to get out and barbecue. Plan your meal, pick your entrée, and pair some great wine to be quaffed while cooking, along with more wine to pair with what is being served. Enjoy
