Sloe Gin Fizz

Ahhh. Thursday night. Before one of Mike's fridays off. Is there anything better? In general, he gets every other Friday off, so every other Thursday feels like a holiday.

So I suppose I'm drunk blogging. Bear with me.

I've wanted to try a sloe gin fizz ever since I heard Blanche offer one to somebody on The Golden Girls. Man, I must be tipsy to admit that online! I'd never heard of one before, and I thought it was "slow" instead of "sloe," and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how one could make gin fizz slowly. I happened to see the episode on again last week, and I figured this Thursday would be the night for us to give it a try.

The picture above is the second manifestation. The first try was from the back of the bottle: 1 1/2 parts sloe gin, 1 part lemon juice, and 3 parts club soda.

Y.U.C.K.

It was so tart that my teeth hurt. How could Blanche ever serve this to one of her gentleman callers?!? Every time I sipped it, my face involuntarily crimped up like I'd just eaten a sour jolly rancher. As I type this, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. Lesson learned: don't use 1 part lemon juice.

Then Mike suggested we look at his bartender's book. I know it's a good one because it's what they use down at Wine & Sprits. Mike knows it's a good one because I gave it to him for our one-year anniversary. Hey, it was paper. And apparently we are boozehounds.

In that vein, allow me a moment to sing the praises of Wine & Sprits: if you live close by, definitely give these guys a shot. I emailed Nick back in April to see if he could somehow smuggle some Mumm champange directly from the winery for us - we discovered it during our trip to San Francisco and couldn't ship any back to Mississippi. Nick printed out my email and KEEPS IT in his binder with detailed notes of his correspondence with Mumm! Impressed? I should think so!

But I digress. Our bartender book said to try 1 part sloe gin, 1 part sour mix, and 1 1/4 part club soda. Sour mix! That's the key!

When I'm tending bar, I tend to pour by counts. For instance, gin for a gin & tonic (G&T) is a 2 - 3 count depending on how sassy I'm feeling. I'm just tipsy enough to realize that the rhythm by which I count is actually my heartbeat. Lord help me if I'm relaxed and have a slow heart rate.

Tonight I poured the sloe to a 2, the sour to a 1.75, and topped it off with club soda. Stirred it with a nearby chopstick.

Bingo.

Did I mention the gardenia is blooming again? I can't beleive it's that time of year. Where did 2009 go?

Prize Chocolate Cake wth Mocha Latte Frosting

Happy birthday tomorrow Sandy, you sassy girl!

Apparently I'm in a chocolate cake phase. After this one, I might have to put it down for a while. But I wanted to make a bunch of different recipes of the same type close together so I could compare notes. For instance, I loved the satin frosting on the feather chocolate cake, but the cake part used boiling water for an ingredient. I understand that the molecules in the water contributed to the feather texture, but water? Really? Just...... water? I'm of the mind that ingredients should add to flavor. Linda suggested using milk instead, but I have yet to try it: I think boiling the milk would produce scalded milk, which probably wouldn't produce the feathery texture for which I strive with that particular recipe. But texture aside, milk instead of water is awesome advice. Thanks Linda!

This dish is a conglomeration: I used the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook, copyright 1953 for the cake part and my favorite cookbook for the frosting. It's a little bit of classic 1950s Americana - I love how the recipe calls for sour milk - and it's finished with a modern latte twist. It's very rich, but I think it came together pretty well.

Prize Chocolate Cake

1 cup shortening

2 cups sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

4 1-ounce squares unsweeted chocolate, melted

5 eggs

2 1/4 cups sifted cake flour

1 teaspoon soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup sour milk or buttermilk

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Stir shortening to soften.
3. Gradually add sugar, creaming till light and fluffy.
4. Blend in vanilla and cooled chocolate.
5. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition.
6. Sift together flour, soda, and salt; add to creamed mixture alternately with milk, beating after each addition.
7. Bake in 3 paper-lined 9x1 1/2 inch round pans in moderate (350 degree) oven for 20 to 25 minutes.
8. Cool completely and frost.

Mocha Latte Frosting

5 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped

1 egg white

1/4 cup heavy cream

1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract

2 Tablespoons instant coffee or espresso powder

1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

4 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar

1. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler over medium heat, stirring occasionally.
2. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool slightly. Note: if the chocolate cools too much, it will be difficult to work with. If this happens, just return the mixture to the heat for a few minutes, or put the chocolate in a microwave-proof container and heat the chocolate 20-30 seconds.)
3. Whisk the egg white, cream, vanilla, and coffee in a small bowl until the coffee has dissolved; set aside.
4. Meanwhile, beat the butter ina large bowl with an electric mixer until soft and creamy. Add teh confectioners' sugar, about 1/2 cup at a time, until thoroughly blended.
5. Slowly add the melted chocolate to the butter mixture, alternating with the cream mixture, until the frosting is smooth.
6. Add 1 to 3 Tablespoons additional cream if the frosting seems too stiff.
7. Leave at room temperature until ready to use.
8. Note: don't refrigerate this frosting; it will become too stiff to spread.

Makes about 4 cups frosting.

Photo courtesy of artsjournal.

Rosemary Fried Chicken

Probably one of my favorite things about cooking is the freedom. I'll tell you a secret: when I'm puttering around on my own, without a cookbook or recipe anywhere in sight, I tend to cook by smell; I'll sniff what I'm making and sniff what I'm thinking about adding to it and if they smell good together, I'll dump it in.

Last night's chicken dinner had moments of the Swedish Chef: just dump it in and here we go! Bork! Bork! Bork! I opened up the dried herb cabinet and went a little crazy. And you know what? Dried rosemary is damn good on fried chicken.

Unless I'm doing a beer batter, I never measure anything when I'm frying. But for simplicity's sake, here's basically what I do:

3-4 chicken breasts. If they're very large (as these were), pop the joint where cartlidget meets bone on the backside and cut them in half with a sharp knife. If you do this, warn diners for small rib bones.
1-2 quarts vegetable oil (after frying I filter it, pour it back into the bottle, and refrigerate until next time I want to fry something)
1-2 cups buttermilk
1/2 cup Louisiana hot sauce or another similar sauce. I use Louisiana because 1. it's inexpensive and 2. that's what Cain's restaurant uses. It doesn't make the chicken spicy - just adds some flavor.
4 large eggs
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons - 1 Tablespoon salt (I use kosher for more crunch.)
2 teaspoons - 1 Tablespoon black pepper
2 Tablespoons dried rosemary
Any other dried spice you might like. Cumin, coriander, paprika, Tony's, garlic powder, basil, celery flakes, onion powder. Just sniff it first and see if you're in the mood for that.

• The night before, soak chicken in buttermilk and enough hot sauce to make the mixture slightly pink. This makes the chicken juicy post-frying.
• Preheat oil to 335 degrees.
• Combine eggs and enough hot sauce to make mixture orange. Beat eggs and hot sauce well with a fork.
• In a separate bowl, combine flour, herbs, and spices with clean fingers.
• When oil is hot enough, roll a piece of chicken in the egg mixture, then dip in the flour mixture. For extra-crispy, dip back in the egg mixture and then back in the flour mixture.
• Slowly lower into hot oil.
• I usually fry for about 9-12 minutes, depending on the size of the chicken meat. The best way to determine doneness is to cut into the biggest piece you fry in a batch: if all the meat is white and juices are running clear, you're done.

A chicken is like a man. The faster you cook it, the tougher it is. Let him simmer, and he's tender and juicy putty in your hands.

Chocolate Whoppers

Do you like chocolate? No, I mean do you really really really like chocolate? Do you like chocolate so rich that when you're eating it you feel like an M&M and that you might just start sweating chocolate?

Then these cookies are for you.

They're from one of my favorite cookbooks, and this is one of the very few recipes in my arsenal that I follow to the letter. I take that back. I have been known to add cruched Heath bar or English toffee and to use pecans and walnuts interchangeably. And put in more chocolate chips than listed. But other than that I follow it to a T. Promise! And since she's proud enough of a chef to post her recipes on the Internet (oh how I hope to be that cool if I ever actually become a chef!), I have no problem with sharing it with you here.

I baked these yesterday to celebrate my good friend Linda's birthday. And Linda, if you're reading this, I'm ashamed to tell you that you didn't get the whole recipe: Mike made me save a few for him. And he doesn't even LIKE chocolate.

That's how good these cookies are.

Per Sara Foster:
We offer these big, chewy super-chocolaty cookies at the Market daily—everyone loves them! Inspired by a similar cookie made at the SoHo Charcuterie back in the early eighties, these cookies keep well, freeze beautifully, and, since they're soft, ship well, too.

Makes about 1 dozen 2½ inch- to 3-inch cookies

6 ounces semisweet chocolate (preferably high-quality baking chocolate, such as Valrhona or Callebaut), chopped into large chunks
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped into large chunks
6 tablespoons (¾ stick) unsalted butter
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons instant espresso powder
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
¾ cup sugar
⅓ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups coarsely chopped walnuts
1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips


1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

2. Lightly grease 2 baking sheets and set aside.

3. Melt together the semisweet chocolate, unsweetened chocolate chunks, and butter in a double boiler over low heat until just melted, stirring occasionally. (Note: Do not overheat; remove from the heat as soon as chocolate has melted.) Stir to blend the chocolate and butter, and set aside.

4. Cream together the eggs, espresso powder, and vanilla in a large bowl with an electric mixer. Add the sugar and mix until thick and creamy.

5. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a separate bowl and stir to mix. Set aside.

6. Add the chocolate mixture to the egg mixture and blend until well combined. Add the flour mixture and stir just until the dry ingredients are moist.

7. Fold in the walnuts and chocolate chips. (Note: The batter will be very moist—similar to the consistency of cake batter.)

8. Scoop the batter with a ¼-cup (2-ounce) ice cream scoop or by the heaping tablespoon and drop onto the prepared baking sheets about 3 inches apart. (Note: Bake right away, before the chocolate begins to cool and harden.)

9. Bake 10 to 12 minutes, turning the baking sheets once during the cooking time. The cookies will still be very gooey inside and soft, but do not overcook or the cooled cookies will be dry. Cool about 10 minutes on the baking sheets before gently removing the whoppers to a baking rack to cool completely.

Recipe courtesy of Foster's Market.

Photo courtesy of FamilyStyleFood.

Jaunt to Florida

Any Italian will tell you that everything revolves around the kitchen. We're not Italian. But I've found that Southerners are very much the same. I kid that we didn't buy a house: we bought a kitchen that happens to have a bedroom or two attached. In that vein, I named this blog my kitchen so I can keep a record of the crazy recipes I cook up in my kitchen and in life in general. That way when I'm old and feeble (assuming this mode of record is still available) I'll be able to look back and remember where we've been.

It's hard to believe that in less than a week Mike and I have been down to Florida to visit his parents and aunt and uncle and done and seen as much as we have. Wednesday was spent driving for the most part: it's a good 9 hours from home to our destination. But I enjoy long trips with Mike. And my back didn't bother me as much as it has in the past. I think the trick was setting up good lumbar support early on instead of trying to fix it once it was hurting. We arrived to a warm welcome from Roy and delicious supper cooked by Judy. She put me to shame: every time I thought we'd seen all the food, another dish would appear on the table!

Thursday morning Mike and Roy went flying while Judy and I stayed grounded (well... as grounded as I'll ever be, I suppose). They had a great morning of zooming around in the RV-7A that Roy built. Did a touch-and-go at the airport and further reminded Mike how much he loves having his pilot's license.

Then in the afternoon we toured Roy and Judy's new camper. I have to admit. I was skeptical. Until I set foot inside - wow! This vehicle is a LONG WAY from cousin Eddie's "that sure is an RRRRVEEE, Clark." They thought of everything. And storage! Every time you turn around there's a new cabinet or drawer or innovation. It was truly neat-o. I know they have many happy miles and great camping trips ahead of them.

After that, Mike and I played out in the woods. He took a lot of pictures of me, precariously balancing on an old fallen tree that was about a foot in diameter and 5 feet in the air. Mike didn't know I was so good on the balance beam. But I have a new appreciation for models, as some of the shots were of my clumsy antics in maneuvering around to where he wanted me to be without totally busting it. The camoflauged leafy forest floor provided a disappointing shot though - my feet are dangling 3 feet in the air, but it looks like I'm just sitting on a tree on the forest floor.

Did I mention there were spiders?

In the evening, we went for a drive through the neighborhood in search of deer. We found them! The only photo we could capture was super-creepy.

Friday morning we headed out to visit Nancy and Bill and their puppies Abby (sp?) and Dexter. Took a beautiful cruise on the Intercoastal Waterway and enjoyed the beautiful weather. A pair of dolphins played very close to the boat, but they were too quick to get a good shot. Nancy had a birthday Saturday, and we all went out to the beach and had lunch and enjoyed the great company.

But wait! There's more! Saturday we went antiquing in Roy and Judy's town that reminds me a lot of Mayberry. That was fun. Well, fun for me - Mike kind of put up with it. I found a great marble-topped table, but the marble had been stained red from an unfortunately-placed candle, so I had to pass on that deal. I did find a set of cordials to go with the newly-found-lost-for-two-years bottle of Drambuie.

Then Mike and the Colonel headed for the pool to check out their scuba gear. What can I say? I married James Bond. All that equipment is so light in the water, but it's tough to lug around on land. Glad I was in charge of the camera.

Sunday was filled with the trip back home, losing an hour for the time difference, so technically it was only 8. Dante was thrilled to see us; Keareny was aloof. It was a lovely trip filled with good food, great times, and the best company.

Today I Turned into Andy Rooney at the Victoria's Secret

This afternoon I went to Victoria's Secret: I had a coupon for free panties. I've never before in my life felt like a big prude. I was the girl dancing on the bar in Rome with a rose in my teeth. Growing up in a medical family, I've talked out loud about things that make most people blush to their toenails. I've bought all sorts of crazy personal items in shady places with a defiant gleam in my eye. I went to a liberal arts college. I am also a grown-up.

And I was brought up short by this kid.

He was 15, 16 max. Definitely could not yet shave. Accompanied by his equally young girlfriend who was, of course, yakking on her cell phone. You know the one. It has stickers and charms and glitters all over it.

I don't mind glitters and charms - I actually like them. But for Pete's sweet sake! What happened to common decency? Leave the boyfriend across the hall at the Buckle or downstairs at the food mart. Have some sort of mystery when you're picking up your everyday underwear.

But was she picking out everyday stuff? NoooOOOoooo. She most certainly was not. They were picking out sexy lingerie for each other. They were BABIES! And here he was, in ancient flip-flops, wearing a stained T-shirt, covered in acne, sporting a super-swoop hairdo, sucking on a soft drink with one hand and holding up bras and panties on this baby girl's front while trying to size up what she'll look like in the sack.

I wouldn't do that in public WITH MY OWN HUSBAND.

The defiant gleam in HIS barely-pubescent eyes absolutely turned my stomach. Come on honey, let yourself grow up a little. What the hell happened to soapbox car races? OK, that's way too old-fashioned. Playing basketball? Movies? Fishing? Swimming? A summer job to buy a car? Or even xbox tournaments? At least that couldn't stick you with a kid or an STD.

Really. What's wrong with these people?

Our children are going to hate me.

Photo courtesy of VS.

Time

Two nights ago, I had the most vivid dream. It was one of many that I have had about communication. I had a piece of special cloth and thread. The cloth was a red plaid with golden yellow cross marks, and the thread was pink. I embroidered on it the words, "I sure do miss you, Alan."

As I watched the fabric, in a hand that was distinctly Alan's, an embroidered pair of beautiful silver skates appeared. They had rabbits engraved on them. And I knew as I watched the embroidery work that though Alan didn't like using the pink, he was active, happy, up, playing, mobile. He was being a normal little boy and having a good time wherever he was.

Once finished, the fabric was such a treasure. I held onto it tightly with both hands. And when I woke up, my left hand was clenched so tightly that it's still a little sore.
And so once again, I find myself digging my heels in as unslowable, unstoppable time keeps marching on to October. This happened as 2008 came to a close: I didn't want 2009 to come. It wasn't fair, wasn't right, wasn't natural that a year would exist in which Alan wasn't here. Now I don't want it to have been a full year without him. Most people would say that time heals all wounds, but I'm still railing against it.
I remember when I first heard. My initial reaction was to say out loud, "I'm so glad." But I was glad he wasn't in pain, glad he was free from worry and strife and his uncomfortable mortal coil. And I still am. Now I'm so glad he's somewhere skating on silver skates. But the vast gap between us is more difficult than I ever imagined.

We sure do miss you, Alan.

Photo courtesy of FreeFoto.