I'm Back! With beets.

Hi everyone. It's been a while. Sometimes life happens to you, and then you don't update your blog in three years. I've been busy, making the move from Texas to New York and creating lots of great content for Apartment Therapy. But it's good to be back. Last Saturday I wandered around the farmers market, looking for something to liquify, and I had that feeling of pleasure and deep rightness that you get when returning to something that you really love.

I bypassed lots of decorative gourds and settled on some beets, because I remembered having seen a beet cocktail once in a book of seasonal drinks. And because I didn't feel like juicing a pumpkin. Juicing beets, it turns out, is quite an ordeal. The pumpkin might've been easier.

Right away, I cut into my beets and was horrified to discover that they were not bright pink on the inside, but rather pink and white striped. I began to panic, thinking I had accidentally bought radishes. A little research revealed that my beets were actually chioggia beets, an heirloom variety from Italy. Sources vary as to whether chioggia beets taste the same as other beets, or a little bit sweeter. I had nothing to compare them to, having never eaten raw beets before, and I thought they tasted like a carrot that's been rolled in dirt.

Cooked beets, of course, are much sweeter, but I couldn't help thinking that that earthy, rooty flavor would be a nice match for something else that's a little earthy and vegetal: tequila. Pair raw beet juice with tequila, lime, and ginger liqueur, and you get all the brightness of a margarita, but with a touch of dirt, like the raw, rich smell of a chilly winter hike.

Beet It*
1.5 oz beet juice**
1.5 oz tequila
3/4 Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur
3/4 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice

Combine all the ingredients in a shaker with ice - shake and strain into a glass. (If you're using homemade beet juice you'll definitely want to double strain this one to remove any lingering beet gunk.)

*After considering many puns about beets, I went for the most obvious. Have other suggestions? Leave them for me in the comments!

**A note about juicing beets: This is totally possible, even if you don't have a juicer! It's just a complete pain in the ass. First you wash the beets, and then chop them up into little cubes. Place the cubes in a blender, and add enough water to get to a consistency that's a little slushier than what you'd expect from a smoothie. Then, run this unholy mixture though a strainer, pressing with a spatula (like so) to make sure you get all the juice out. (You will have to periodically discard the spent beet gunk to make sure your strainer doesn't get clogged.) Voila: fresh beet juice! Your kitchen is now a disaster. (You could also buy beet juice from the supermarket, and that would probably be ok.)

Enter the Dragon (Fruit)

The latest exotic fruit taking the culinary world by storm is...dragon fruit!!

After reading this sentence, you probably had one of two reactions:
1. There is a fruit called dragon fruit?
2. There is a such thing as...fruit trends?

Well, yes, and yes. Dragon fruit is so of-the-moment that the New York Times wrote a whole article about how cool it is. And you can hardly blame them - dragon fruit is a really, really cool-looking fruit. On the outside, it's hot pink with wavy green spines. Inside, the flesh is white (or pink, for some varieties) and studded with tiny black seeds.


It's got a great backstory, too - the cacti that the fruit grows on only blooms at night, under a full moon. (In the cacti's native lands, the flowers are pollinated by moths and bats; to grow the fruit in America, California farmers have to go out under the light of the moon and pollinate the flowers by hand.) And who wouldn't get excited about a foodstuff with "dragon" in the name?

Unfortunately, I didn't hear about dragon fruit from the New York Times, or some exalted food publication. I heard about it from watching the Bachelorette. (That's right - this is my second drink in less than a month to be inspired by reality television programming. (Here's the first - and a shameless plug for my snarktastic Bachelorette blog.) In a recent episode, Ashley and one of her would-be paramours are seen sitting on a beach in Thailand, drinking champagne and eating dragon fruit. My curiosity was piqued. So when I ran across some dragon fruit at a local Asian market, I thought, hey - why not give it a try?


Of course the big question with any exotic fruit is: what's it taste like? In this case: not much. Even the NYT admits that despite all the hoopla, dragon fruit doesn't really have much of a flavor. I found the texture to be pleasing, which was a surprise given all those seeds, and the taste to be slightly sweet and very, very mild. A little bit strawberry, a little bit melon, a little bit grassy. But veeery mild.

Then there was the issue of what to pair it with. I thought about tequila. I was worried that it might overwhelm the dragon fruit's delicate flavor - I don't think anyone would describe tequila as "mild" - but I had good luck in the past pairing tequila with another unusual pink fruit that grows on a cacti. So I gave it a try.


Dragon Fruit Margarita
Flesh of 1/4 dragon fruit
1.5 oz silver tequila
1/2 oz triple sec
1/2 oz simple syrup
1/2 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice

Combine all ingredients in a blender. Add 5-6 ice cubes. Run the blender, adding ice cubes as needed, until you achieve the desired slushy consistency.

Verdict: My gamble paid off. It's mild, it's sweet, it's refreshing - the tequila is definitely there, but, ever-so-subtly, so is the dragon fruit. In fact, I can almost taste the dragon fruit more in the margarita than I could in the plain old fruit. Maybe it's because dragon fruit and tequila both come from cacti, so they're buddies. Whatever it is: this is good.

Now if anyone needs me, I'll be drinking one of these bad boys on the beach. In Thailand.

More Delicious Margaritas:
The Sweet & Spicy Southwest Margarita
Key Lime Margarita
White Peach and Basil Margarita

Backyard Bartender in the Kitchn

This week the regular cocktail blogger over at the Kitchn was away, so I filled in with a post about my strawberry basil margaritas. Mosey on over there and check it out. These are seriously some of the easiest cocktails I've ever made - you can throw together a whole pitcher in a few minutes. And they're so popular with my friends that I have to make a pitcher for pretty much every party I have.


Longtime readers may recognize this as a re-do of this earlier post. Longtime attenders of Nancy parties may recognize this as one of their favorite drinks.

Cheers.

The Sweet & Spicy Southwest Margarita

My goal: to create a cocktail inspired by my love of the Southwest.

This sunset really happened.

My inspiration: the pretty light pink Prickly Pear margarita I had at the Arizona Room, on the edge of the Grand Canyon. A little sweet for my taste...but I could work with this. Here was my idea: a margarita with prickly pear and jalapeno (a la the award-winning cocktail Jason had at the Copa d'Oro). What could be more southwest than that?

Turns out prickly pears aren't so easy to find, at least in Houston. I started out making my Prickly Pear margarita with a monin prickly pear syrup, but the syrup was black, which made for a not so appealing drink. So I finally hunted down some prickly pear fruits ("nopales" in Spanish) at (where else?) Whole Foods.

So, as I get in line, so excited to have found the very last two cactus pears at Whole Foods, the cashier gives me a look of abject terror. Terror, and pity. "Have you been carrying those with your hands?", he asks me, as I place the prickly pears on the belt, clearly with my hands. "Because they'll cut ya." I look at my (uncut) hands while the cashier bags my prickly pears ever so gingerly, as if they had ebola. This is a very confusing conversation.

But it was all explained to me later by the Internet, Explainer of Many Things. Turns out that when you pick a prickly pear from an actual cactus, it's covered with little tiny spines that will lodge into your hands and make them feel like they're on fire. The cactus pears they sell at most grocery stores have been de-spined, but apparently my cashier was unaware of this. I think this is wonderful, because it means that my Southwest Margarita is made from something that is both beautiful and dangerous, just like the Grand Canyon itself.

I love the Grand Canyon so much.

So how does one juice a prickly pear? I'm glad you asked. It goes like this:
1. Cut off the ends of the prickly pear.
2. Make a long cut, about half an inch deep, lengthwise down the pear.
3. Starting at the cut, unwrap the thick outer skin of the pear, revealing the seedy flesh below.

Sarah Burkhart: do not look at this picture.

Yeah, I was a little creeped out writing the words "seedy flesh", but that's what a prickly pear looks like - very similar to a pomegranate. And the taste? It starts out a little bit vegetal and finishes very sweet, almost like bubble gum. The riper the pear, the more pronounced the sweetness will be. (You can tell the fruit is ripe because the skin will be a dark magenta.) I struggled for a long time to place the vegetal smell of the prickly pear until I realized what it reminded me of: snapping green beans at my grandma's house. I know, you're kinda grossed out. Green beans and bubble gum? Sounds weird, but...it works. And it works especially well with tequila.

But first: how do you turn all that seedy flesh (sorry!) into something you can put into a drink? Chop the flesh up into little bits (about 1/4" square), throw them into a blender, and run the blender until the flesh is liquefied. Then, strain out the seeds using the strainer-and-a-spatula method found in this post. This is especially satisfying because the end product, the prickly pear juice, is bright, crazy, magenta, Barbie pink. It might be my new favorite thing.


El Nopalito (Prickly Pear Margarita)
2 oz tequila
.5 oz triple sec
.5 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
.5 oz agave nectar
.75 oz prickly pear juice (juice of about 1/2 nopal)

Just enough prickly pear flavor to keep things interesting. Prickly pears come from a cactus, tequila comes from a cactus...they're practically cousins, so it's no surprise that they play well together. But my southwest margarita needed something to make it even more beautiful and interesting and dangerous, so I added...jalapeno.

The Sweet and Spicy Southwest Margarita
2 oz tequila
.5 oz triple sec
.5 oz lime juice
.5 oz agave nectar
.75 oz prickly pear juice
3 slices of jalapeno (plus more for garnish)

Muddle three slices of jalapeno (minus the seeds) in a pint glass. Add all the other ingredients, fill the glass with ice, and shake for at least 3o seconds. Strain into a glass full of crushed ice. Garnish with extra bits of jalapeno and add a little crushed ice and a slice of lime on top.

My favorite thing about this margarita is how damn pretty it is. I was pretty much obsessed with taking pictures of it. It doesn't taste bad, either - just like the nopalito, but with a little extra kick.

Also: lesson learned: never, ever, ever, garnish the rim of a glass with a jalapeno. It will set your mouth on fire. This may or may not have happened to me. I may or may not have stood around the kitchen, dabbing my flaming lips with a paper towel soaked in milk, while Betty (my taste tester for the occasion - thanks Betty!) laughed at me.

Beautiful...and dangerous. Drink up, kids.

Key Lime Margarita

Having a garden will teach you patience. You take care of the plants, and you watch them grow, and if you are lucky after a veeery long time they will produce something you can eat. Well, after many months of anticipation the three tiny, perfect key limes on my key lime tree finally ripened, and of course I started dreaming of cocktails.

Delicious with booze.

The first thing I thought of was a key lime martini - Steve had one once and couldn't stop talking about how great it was, and besides, it just sounded fun. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that a key lime martini contains no actual key lime juice. (Here's a compendium of three different key lime martini recipes...no key limes in sight.) 101 Margaritas to the rescue. Right there on the front cover is a lovely picture of a key lime margarita made with real key lime juice. Problem is, the original recipe called for something called McGillicuddy's vanilla schnapps, which your intrepid bartender was unable to find. So instead I substituted Navan, a vanilla liqueur made by the same folks who make Grand Marnier. It tastes divine, is very strong, and very expensive. But it's still vanilla flavored, right? And I had been looking for an excuse to buy a bottle of this stuff anyway.

So here goes:
Key Lime Margarita
1 1/2 oz tequila*
1 1/2 oz Navan vanilla liqueur
1/2 oz key lime juice (from the garden!)
1/2 oz simple syrup
splash of Midori melon liqueur (optional)**

*I prefer the gold in this recipe. Use good tequila - trust me, you will taste the difference.
**What's the Midori for? See, the difficulty here is that people expect margaritas to be green. And while the unfindable McGillicuddy's is presumably clear, Navan is brown. Adding a splash of Midori will give your margarita the appropriate color. Just don't add too much, or it will start to affect the taste.

Before you start: to give this drink a little added pizazz, rim the glass with vanilla sugar. (This isn't necessary, but it's super easy and I heartily reccomend it.) To make vanilla sugar, combine 1 teaspoon vanilla extract with 4 tablespoons of white sugar. This will make enough sugar for at least two glasses (and it will smell incredible). Then follow the instructions for coating the rim of a glass with sugar found here.


Combine the ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake and strain into a glass. Or, stir the ingredients in a glass full of ice for thirty seconds, and let the glass sit on the counter for about a minute before straining into a glass. You want to give the ice a lot of time to melt with this one, because it is veeery boozy. Navan is 40% alcohol by volume, the same as most hard liquors, so this drink has the equivalent of two whole shots in it, about twice what you would expect. (Don't say I didn't warn you.) The water melting into the drink takes the edge of the liquor - it's what makes tequila taste like tequila and not like that burn you get when taking shots.

Not that there's anything wrong with taking shots.

Most cocktails are intended to be drunk chilled, without ice, but I give you permission to take this one on the rocks (since the ice will melt and further mellow out the drink). It's also a great candidate for a frozen drink. To make a frozen margarita, combine all the ingredients in a blender, and add a handful of ice cubes. Run the blender (you will probably need to use the highest setting), and keep adding a couple ice cubes at a time until you reach the desired consistency.

Sometimes being unemployed is really great.

Verdict: This is a most interesting drink. I keep making them to drink by the pool (in October? Only in Houston), and every time I have one I like it more and more. In fact, I am craving one right now. The margarita-ness gets you right away, whereas the vanilla slowly sneaks up on you before settling gently into your palette. I have to say I'm pretty proud of myself for making something that is 75% hard liquor taste so delicious. Drink it slowly - this will help you appreciate the vanilla more. It will also keep you from ending up on the floor.

Bottoms up.

Pink Lemons!

One of my recent garden purchases (and there have been many) is a Pink Eureka Lemon tree. I never would've thought I could be super excited about a tree...but I am really excited about this thing. Eureka lemons are just the plain old variety you get at the grocery store, but the pink ones are a mutation (awesome!) that was discovered in a California citrus grove in 1931. Some people say these lemons taste subtly different from the plain, non-mutated ones - they're supposed to be fruitier (fruitier? what's fruitier than a fruit?) and more floral. Well, maybe I have an uneducated palatte, but I just tasted lemon.

The difference, and the reason I am so excited about this tree, is that pink lemons look like what normal lemons would look like if they were total badasses. Outside, the rind is yellow with green stripes, like a little tiny watermelon, and inside the flesh is a subtle peachy-pink. (Unfortunately, pink lemon juice is not pink. It just looks like normal lemon juice. Bummer, I know.)

but still. I mean...stripes!

When I first acquired my pink lemon tree, it already had two fruits on it. I felt like an accomplished gardener just for picking it up at the farmers' market. Over the next few weeks, I thought long and hard about what to do with my pink lemons - clearly I could not use them in just any old drink. It had to be something that would showcase their mutant greatness. Enter...the Lemon-Basil Margarita. (recipe from this book.)

1/2 lemon, seeded and thinly sliced into half-wheels*
2 basil leaves
1/4 oz agave nectar**
2 oz gold tequila
1 oz grand marnier (or triple sec, if you don't feel like shelling out for the grand marnier.)
crushed ice

*You don't have to use pink lemons. your drink will taste just as good (but not look quite as good) with plain old lemons.
**Debate (some of it very scientific) rages over the use of agave nectar v. simple syrup in margaritas. I prefer the agave nectar, so I substituted 1/4 oz agave nectar for the 1/2 oz simple syrup originally called for, since agave nectar is sweeter.

Okay, so I might've gotten a little carried away with the lemon. But who can blame me?

Muddle the lemon slices, basil, and simple syrup in a mixing glass. Add the tequila, grand marnier, and 1 cup crushed ice. Stir until completely mixed, and then let sit for at least a minute. (It's important when stirring cocktails to allow time for the ice to melt a little, since the that little bit of melted water in the drink mellows the burn of the booze.)

Verdict: Sweet, delicious margarita taste. Basil adds a nice twist. (But we already knew that tequila and basil play well together.) Oh - and mighty, mighty strong. You might want to wait for the ice to melt a little before you finish this one.

halfway to nirvana.

The easiest (and most delicious) pitcher drinks you will ever make.

I secretly long to be Martha Stewart. I dream of having perfect, mosquito-free garden parties where everyone drinks perfect summery drinks from mason jars and everything is recorded for posterity in dreamy, short depth of field-y photos.

This was right before the tree caught fire.

But I am not Martha Stewart, I am a normal person. I do not have hundreds of hours or thousands of dollars or a team of photographers. To make my parties awesome, I must rely on my own wit and daring, plus a few tricks I've picked up over the years. One of which is: pitcher drinks. You can mix them up the night before, pop them in the fridge, and when it's party time, impress your guests with your cocktail making skillz without having to spend the entire time in the kitchen. These are my absolute favorite - I make them for almost every party I have, and they are always a huge hit. Plus they're almost stupidly easy to make. And did I mention delicious?

Strawberry Basil Margaritas
(Okay, so of course this was inspired by the drink they serve at the Volcano, but the pitcher recipe is my own.)
12 strawberries, hulled and sliced
8 basil leaves (harvested from the back porch!)
one can frozen limeade concentrate
tequila! (I prefer the gold for this recipe.)

First, mix up the limeade. The package will say to add 4 1/3 cans of water; I usually add 3 cans of water and 1 1/3 cans of tequila. (If your friends are squeamish about drinking, or you like your margaritas less strong - well, add a bit less.) Lightly muddle the basil, or smoosh it gently with the back of a spoon - this will help the basil essence to diffuse into the drink. Add the strawberries and basil to the pitcher and stick the whole thing (covered) into the fridge overnight, or for at least four hours.

When you retrieve the pitcher everything will have turned a nice pale pink. Serve over ice, and wait for the compliments to pour in.

White Peach and Basil Margarita

Here's a little history on this cocktail - I was inspired by a drink called "Peaches and Herb" from this book (which I love and totally reccomend, btw). The original drink called for peaches, sage, and brandy, but the peach and sage combo didn't really do it for me (peaches - delcious; sage - meh), so I decided to try it with peaches and basil. And substitute tequila for the brandy, since peaches and tequila are always a winning combination. I used white peaches because - that's what they had at the grocery store. So there you go. Necessity is the mother of invention?

Peaches and Basil: A good start.

For starters:
5 slices of white peach (a little more than 1/4 of the peach)
3 basil leaves (harvested from the back porch!)
splash of agave nectar (what the heck is a splash, I always want to know? here's what I do: about 1/8 of an ounce.)
splash of lemon juice
1.5 oz tequila
.5 oz triple sec

What you do:
Put the peach slices, basil leaves, and agave nectar in the mixing glass of your shaker. (I'm assuming you have a boston shaker, but a plain old shaker will work just as well.) Muddle (or smoosh with the back of a spoon) the peaches and basil until they make a nice mush. Fill the glass with ice, and then add the tequila, lemon juice and triple sec. Shake it all up. (Most people will say shake until a frost forms on the shaker, but I like to shake until the shaker is so cold I can barely hold it anymore. The ice melting into the cocktail is important because that's what smoothes out the burn of the alcohol.) Strain into a cocktail glass. Cheers.

Verdict: The color is beautiful, pale and peachy, and the flavor is kind of similiar - lovely, smooth, more subtle than you'd expect from a margarita. I'd like another.