White Bean Hummus

Yes, I have a food recipe for you today, but don't worry - if you were dying for a cocktail, there's a slew of positively awesome recipes over at Feu de Vie's Mixology Monday roundup. I was pretty bummed not to have time to participate in this one (I had that pesky thesis to write), because the theme was Ice, Ice Baby. The idea was to create a cocktail that features a particular usage of ice, and the results are super creative. I particularly want to try the Coconaut Flaming Re-Entry from Nihil Utopia, because it sounds delicious and you get to light it on fire. Pete at Meticulous Mixing also discusses the secret to perfectly clear ice, something I eventually want to try to achieve. Check it out!

In the meantime, I hope you're hungry, because I've got a great a snack recipe for you: white bean hummus. I've always thought hummus was just "ok," but that was before I tried the homemade kind. My husband grew up next door to a woman from Cyprus who makes amazing Greek food, and her hummus positively blew me away. I asked her for the recipe, but she said there wasn't one. Instead, she had me over and showed me how to make it. I took careful notes. But when I tried to make it myself, it wasn't quite the same. I couldn't get it as creamy as hers. I always ended up with hard chunks of chickpea. Maybe I need a better food processor, or softer chickpeas.

Or maybe another bean entirely? I recently wondered if white beans might be more conducive to smooth, creamy hummus. And it turns out the answer is yes. This white bean hummus is everything I could have hoped for, and I didn't even use any tahini. It's easy and quick, and pretty healthy. I'm not usually crazy about counting calories (obviously, given how many cocktails I drink), but it was easy to do the math on this one: 1/4 of of the recipe is about 250 calories (most of that is olive oil). Plus whatever you choose to dip in it, of course. I sprayed a skillet with a little olive oil and heated a couple of flour tortillas until they turned brown. Once they cool they get nice and crunchy. But I also love it with cucumber slices.

White Bean Hummus

1 15.5 oz. can white beans/cannellini
1 clove garlic
1/3 cup olive oil
3 tbsp. lemon juice
salt and pepper, to taste

Combine all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until very smooth. Taste and adjust garlic, lemon juice, or spices as needed. Transfer to a bowl and top with paprika, pepper, or another spice and chopped fresh parsley. Serve with veggies or flatbread for dipping.

Recipe adapted from Giada De Laurentiis.

#42

When we first bought our apartment, one of the things I was the most excited about was the balcony. After living in a place with no natural light where every plant I tried to cultivate withered and died, I couldn't wait to grow some herbs and veggies outside. The first warm weekend of the spring, I went out and bought all kinds of herbs and seeds. It started reasonably enough: five little pots of herbs and a rectangular planter of tomato seedlings. When nothing died, I transplanted the herbs into bigger pots and planted some more seeds. Those sprouted, and my tomatoes made fruit. So I added zucchini, eggplant, and some more herbs.

Now I basically have a jungle on my balcony. It has definitely gotten out of hand. Buying pots got expensive, so I started swiping plastic pots out of neighbors' trash cans. It literally takes gallons to water everything. I may have a problem. But I love going right outside for fresh herbs, and it's so exciting seeing new veggies appear. Next year I might try building some planter boxes so the jumble of pots isn't so chaotic.

When I participated in my first Mixology Monday, I invented a cocktail I called the Perfect 10 that included Bittermen's Boston Bittahs, which have flavors of citrus and chamomile. I commented that the best garnish for the cocktail would have been chamomile flowers but, and I quote, "who has those just lying around?"

I'll tell you who: crazy potted plant lady. Days after I wrote that post, I bought some chamomile seeds, and I now have a steady supply of chamomile flowers! I made this recipe specifically for a chance to use them, but boy am I glad I tried it. It is just lovely. A basic gin martini recipe is made unforgettable by the addition of a bit of honey simple syrup and a dash of Boston Bittahs. It's just a little sweet, with beautiful notes of honey and chamomile. It's one of the best new recipes I've tried in a while.

If you don't have a bottle of Boston Bittahs, I think this could be a nice recipe to showcase other flavors as well. For example, orange bitters plus an orange twist.

History: The #42 was invented at the Hungry Mother in Cambridge, MA, which is now closed. But I think the same folks opened State Park, which is a great place.

#42

2.5 oz. gin (Greylock recommended, I used Wire Works)
1/4 oz. dry vermouth
1/4 oz. honey simple syrup*
1 dash Bittermen's Boston Bittahs

Combine ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until well chilled. Strain into a coupe glass. Twist a lemon peel over the cocktail and rub along the sides. Garnish with the lemon twist or discard and garnish with chamomile flowers.

*Honey simple syrup = equal parts honey and water. Heat in a saucepan or in the microwave until honey is dissolved. Let cool before using. Store in the refrigerator.

Recipe adapted from the Hungry Mother via Bittermen's.

Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough, and time

This coyness, Lady, were no crime

We would sit down and think which way

To walk and pass our long love's day.

My mom flew up to Boston for my dissertation defense. After she sat so patiently through an hour-long talk, wondering what on earth allopatry and ΦST were, I really thought she deserved a cocktail. It is hot today in Boston, so something light and fizzy was a must. She's a big vodka drinker (apparently it's not hereditary) and isn't into minty drinks or ginger beer, so that nixed a lot of the ideas I had offhand. So we created a summery concoction together that we both really enjoyed. I wanted to name it in her honor. She's a researcher in 17th century literature, and she suggested "Coy Mistress" after one of Andrew Marvell's most famous poems.

History: I'm going to let my mom take this one:

"Andrew Marvell was a 17th century British metaphysical poet (1621-1678), whose works one scholar has called 'liminal.' Here's an 'in-between' cocktail perfect for a hot summer day in Boston, particularly after a grueling dissertation defense. Marvell's famous poem 'To His Coy Mistress' epitomizes the beauties (and heat) of a torrid affair, to be cooled off by a healthy dose of vodka, St. Germain, lemon juice, simple syrup, and muddled basil. Try it, and see if you still feel 'coy.'"

Well said, Mom.

Coy Mistress

2 oz. vodka
3/4 oz. St. Germain
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/2 oz simple syrup
4 basil leaves
2 oz. club soda

Muddle basil in a shaker with simple syrup and lemon juice. Add St. Germain and vodka. Shake with ice until well chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice. Top with club soda and stir briefly. Garnish with a lemon slice and a sprig of basil.

De La Louisiane

Guess what, blog readers? I have officially defended my dissertation. Call me Dr. GarnishGirl. Or don't, actually. That just sounds silly.

Anyway, though I've still got to finish up that pesky thesis, I'm excited to have a bit more time to blog and make cocktails and enjoy what's left of the summer. I've got a few more summery drinks coming your way, but today I thought I'd take a little break and talk about something a little different: the De La Louisiane.

With its rye, sweet vermouth, Benedictine, and Peychaud's bitters, the De La Louisiane is quite similar to the Vieux Carre, another classic New Orleans cocktail. It lacks the Vieux Carre's Cognac, and also amps up the herbal notes that are only hinted at in the Vieux Carre to extremes with much more Benedictine and a few dashes of absinthe (as usual, I used Herbsaint). As such, it's a much more polarizing taste; if you don't like absinthe or Benedictine, I'd steer clear of this one. But if you do, they work beautifully together for a very layered, complex cocktail, something you're going to want to sip slowly and savor.

History: This was the signature cocktail of the restaurant La Louisiane in New Orleans. The hotel and restaurant was opened in 1881 by Louis Bezaudun in a residence on Iberville Street that had been built in 1837. It became famous for its Creole cuisine and served many famous guests, from Teddy Roosevelt to Harry Houdini. It closed in 1932, and the property changed hands several times. In 1954, it became an Italian restaurant also called La Louisiane. It was sold again in 1998 and has been renovated and re-opened as a restaurant and event space in the spirit of the original Creole restaurant.

The recipe for the De La Louisiane (sometimes just called the La Louisiane) was first published in Stanley Clisby Arthur's 1937 book Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix 'Em. His recipe called for equal parts rye, Benedictine, and sweet vermouth. This version from The PDT Cocktail Book tones down the sweetness and increases the rye for a well-balanced cocktail.

De La Louisiane

2 oz. rye
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
3/4 oz. Benedictine
3 dashes* absinthe or Herbsaint
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass and stir well with ice. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with three brandied cherries.

*A "dash" is easy with a bottle of bitters, but tougher with something like absinthe. One dash should equal about 1/8 tsp.

Recipe adapted from The PDT Cocktail Book.

Clerico

I love traveling, and GarnishGuy and I have been fortunate enough to do a lot of it. Eating and drinking are half the fun of most trips, and I especially love trying local specialties. Sometimes the circumstances make something twice as good as it could ever be anywhere or any time else: stumbling upon an amazing restaurant, eating with a beautiful view, or rewarding yourself after a challenging day of hiking can make otherwise ordinary food and drink into something extraordinary. In those cases, when you try to re-create something at home, it just doesn't work. But that doesn't stop us from trying every now and then.

We spent the summer of 2007 in South America, and one weekend we took a ferry from Buenos Aires to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay. It's a beautiful historical town that has become a seaside resort for the residents of Buenos Aires and Montevideo. Because we went in the dead of the southern winter, it was quiet during the day and essentially abandoned at night. But we managed to find a restaurant that was open, and they served a drink called Clerico. It's basically a white Sangria, and it seems to be an Uruguayan specialty. Thinking of drinks that would be good for sipping on our porch in the summertime, I suddenly remembered it and knew I had to try and make it.

A quick Google search brings up plenty of Clerico recipes. I chose this one from an Uruguayan travel site, which I thought ought to be fairly authentic. Like Sangria, Clerico is filled with fruit. The recipe specifically calls for strawberries, orange, peach, and banana, but mentions that you can use whatever is in season. I stuck to those four for today, but I imagine it would be lovely with blueberries and raspberries. The fruit is sliced, mixed with sugar, and combined with rum and wine. The recipe recommends a sweeter white like Viognier, Chardonnay, or Torrontes, but just about anything will do; I used a Bordeaux from Trader Joe's. Just be sure to adjust the amount of sugar according to the sweetness of your wine.

FYI: this punch is dangerously sweet and drinkable. It is best slowly sipped, but begs to be guzzled. You have been warned.

Clerico

1 orange, sliced and quartered
1 banana, sliced
1 peach, cubed
7 oz. strawberries, sliced
2-4 tbsp. sugar
1/2 cup white rum
1 bottle (750 ml) white wine

Prepare all fruit and put in a large bowl. Add sugar and mix. (Undershoot the amount of sugar - you can add more later.) Move fruit into a large pitcher. Add rum and wine and stir. Chill in fridge before serving. Salud!

Recipe adapted from Travel-Uruguay.

Cucumber Fizz

This cocktail is a summer favorite of my Dad's and mine. I fondly remember mixing them up on a family trip to the beach last summer (we may have rented a condo for only a few days, but we basically brought a full bar with us.) I made up the recipe after seeing a bartender mix something similar at the Carousel Bar at the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans. His version contained St. Germain, and I've included it here as an option, but I honestly love the crisp flavor of gin and cucumber without it. I'm drinking one on my porch as I write, soaking in a summer evening, and I can't imagine a more perfect cocktail for the moment.

I debated a bit about whether to call this a Cucumber Fizz or a Cucumber Collins. As you may recall, a Tom Collins is a cocktail containing gin, lemon juice, simple syrup, and club soda. You can similarly make a Whiskey Collins or a Vodka Collins. But a "fizz" by definition is also a cocktail containing citrus juice, sugar, and carbonated water. I still don't have a satisfactory answer for how a Gin Fizz is any different from a Tom Collins, but I'm going to go ahead and call this a Cucumber Fizz because, well, I like the name.

As far as what gin to use, Hendricks would be the best. A cucumber infusion makes it ideal for any cocktail with cucumber flavors. But it's a bit pricey for me, and right now I'm really enjoying GrandTen's Wire Works gin made right here in Boston. Your go-to gin ought to be just fine.

If you want to do a variation with St. Germain, add 1/4 oz. or even 1/2 oz. and decrease the simple syrup to 2 tsp. St. Germain really is lovely with these flavors, but it moves the cocktail from crisp and citrusy to sweet and floral. It just depends what you're in the mood for.

Cucumber Fizz

1 1/2 oz. gin
1/4 oz. St. Germain (optional)
2 slices cucumber, halved
1/2 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup
2 oz. club soda

Muddle cucumber, lime juice, and simple syrup in a glass. Add gin, St. Germain (if desired), ice, and club soda. Stir gently and enjoy.

Tray Chic

Tray from Crate & Barrel, pitcher and glasses from H&M Home

I'm a big fan of trays. Anything that can be both practical and decorative is usually a good addition to a home or apartment. So when One King's Lane asked me to participate in their Tray Chic campaign, I was happy to share a couple of ways to use trays in your home.

The first may seem obvious, but... trays are great for carrying lots of cocktails! They really are a must for entertaining guests, especially outdoors. It's pretty hard to carry more than two glasses at once. A tray not only helps out, but also makes a nice presentation. Now that the weather is nice, GarnishGuy and I have been spending more and more evenings outside, and having a tray has come in handy even with just the two of us.

Tray, glasses, and bowl from Target

I also like using a tray as an instant (mini) bar cart. I'm a sucker for all those great pictures of beautiful bar carts on Pinterest, but if I end up studying them, I usually realize that they make no sense. There aren't really many cocktails you can make with a bottle of champagne, some San Pellegrino, and stripey paper straws. I love flowers as much as the next girl, but maybe you should set that vase aside and add a bottle of whiskey or something?

If we're being truthful, making cocktails usually turns out to be a messy business that ends in water rings, lemon rinds, and dirty glassware. And a bar with enough spirits and mixers to make an assortment of cocktails gets pretty sizable. But if you want the bar cart vibe, try a tray. I made one up with everything you need for a gin or vodka martini. You could even space a couple of these around with different themes for guests. Admittedly, you'd need more glassware, but there's always space to the side.

I even found room for flowers.

Tray from Crate & Barrel, ice bucket from Target

Check out #TrayChic on Twitter for ideas from other bloggers!