Why Wear What You Can Drink? The Brown Derby
And now for another chapter from The Pamplemousse Chronicles, aka My Grapefruit Affair. I had a version of this somewhat unprepossessing (even taking into account my crappy photo…) but excruciatingly tasty cocktail at Proof a few months ago and it’s been haunting me since. I can’t quite remember all the sordid details, and their cocktail menu isn’t online–perhaps unsurprising for a wine bar–but the basics of grapefruit, bourbon, and honey are easily brought together and really quite magical, despite the unadorned brown-ness of it all.
The combo is, if not more than the sum of its parts, certainly very different in a mysteriously alchemical kind of way. Upfront there are distinctly lush, almost creamy notes that brighten into big, juicy citrus before fading into a mellow bourbon-y vapor. SO. GOOD. At least I think so. And, had I been allowed to use the good bourbon, even better, I’d think.
Interestingly, this is the second stringer Brown Derby. The better known cocktail of the name involves rum, lime, and maple sugar. Sounds interesting, but nothing captivates my tastebuds like grapefruit… with BOURBON. I mean, c’mon.
Choke on This: Baby Artichoke Pasta
Baby artichokes courtesy of Kuhn Orchards. This guy looks so….Audrey II. Check out what I made after the jump.
Summer Savor: Fresh Corn with Chipotle Butter
Aside, maybe, from icy wedges of watermelon, what better evokes summer than corn on the cob? No matter how you eat it–in rings? typewriter-style? a syncretic spiral?– fresh corn seems to me the absolute sunny sweet essence of summer. I remember waiting impatiently for the first corn to appear at Merrick’s farm stand on Main Street each summer.
And, when it finally arrived, the corn always seemed worth both the wait and the several applications of turkey crap the farmer applied to his fields each spring. Rolling off the bus in the morning–school was between the turkey farm and the corn fields–and getting a faceful of that was NOT pleasant. (In retrospect, WTF, this was suburban Massachusetts in the early 1990s, not Little House on the Prairie…)
Anyway, corn. It’s lovely, and (surprisingly) I generally like it unadorned–just steamed ever so quickly to stop the sugars from turning to starch. No butter, no salt, just corn. Yum. I was, however, inspired to make a little chipotle butter to accompany our 4th of July corn, and I’m really glad I did. The butter was smoky, spicy, salty, and rich–all things that the corn, delicious as it is, was not.
Cilantro Pesto Pasta with Shrimp and Avocado
Having returned home yesterday from a few days of intensive beach-going, Mr. T and I found ourselves collapsed on the floor in a sandy sunburned heap… and we were hungry. Gf course, there was no food to be had–unless we wanted, uhm, cider jelly on raw onions. So, with herculean effort, we dragged ourselves down to the market on the corner for provisons. Mr. T was thinking avocado, which soon morphed to avocado with shrimp. Such demands… Apparently shrimp, exuse men, “prawn” cocktail always involves avocado in the UK. Who knew?
In any event, given that brief, I rattled around the wee produce section and secured a few more things to enliven our avocados and shrimp. Tomatoes, whole wheat pasta, and a big bunch of cilantro for a zingy pesto. And back up the hill to make dinner and shake the sand out of our stuff–including the confectionery textbook I’d brought along as some light beach reading.
From Tomato to Tomato, Potato, Green Bean Summer Salad
In the beginning, there was a single, baby heirloom tomato. My inspiration. And one I couldn’t stop capturing.
Summer Pudding: An English Dessert for 4th of July
Being part of a bi-national household requires a little flexibility, particularly in the kitchen. Since he’s graciously decided to stick it out here in the U.S. with me, I try to accomodate Mr. T’s food desires–particularly around the holidays. This can be something of a challenge; Heinz Baked Beans (vomit) and Bird’s Custard (spackle) spring to mind. But other times I end up discovering something wonderful that I’d never have made otherwise. Summer pudding is one of those things.
In the spirit of pan-Atlanticism and to celebrate England’s loss of her 13 colonies this 4th of July, I wanted a nice British dessert. Summer pudding, a mixture of lightly sweetened and barely cooked berries encased in white bread that get soaked through with fruity goodness, was the perfect answer. It is also one of Mr. T’s favorites.
Please do not look askance at this. I know the picture is kind of weird looking, and I will be the first to admit that I was totally grossed out by the concept of soggy bread at first. This really is a magical, delightful thing–delicious, novel, and really very easy to put together.
Gonna Pork It
The beginning: Pork butt, garlic, fennel, rosemary and orange.
Slow-roasted, piled onto grilled ciabatta bread (rubbed with garlic) and topped with a raw fennel, carrot slaw and shaved parmigiano reggiano.
It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Zing: Asian Potato Salad
I make no claims to authenticity on this yummy tasty novel–er, salad–save for that a more anodyne version of this dish is found in Korean salad bars and the lunchtime bento specials of many a D.C. pan-Asian restaurant. I mean, sweet potatoes aren’t even orange in Japan and Korea. But, well, that’s where the inspiration came from, though my version has a bit more verve, thanks to two kinds of ginger, two different alliums, and a little hot sauce.
I recently brought this, along with my more authentic sesame-dressed green beans, to a friend’s green card party where both were gobbled up with verve. The honoree, however, who is famed for carrying tiny bottles of Tabasco around in her pocket book, thought this was just divine. While it’s not that hot by any stretch, this potato salad has it all. The rich, complexly tangy dressing dances over the earthy, sweet potatoes in a most delightful way.
Hot Days, Cool Grains
If you live in D.C., chances are your panties have been moist at some point in the past few weeks. No, the moisture is not a result of D.C. gaining statehood but rather of sweltering temperatures. Days, nay, weeks like these remind me of our swamp origins and one of my favorite quotes: “Washington. A swamp that traded malaria for politics.”
The heat makes me want to eat as little as possible. And firing up the oven on days like, oh, today, are not in the cards.
Salads. Yes, salads are what I want to eat.
And I want salad that’s hearty enough. One that will keep me full but not feel weighty like Carnie Wilson circa 1991.
Enter grains: rice, quinoa, farro.