From Garden to Glass: The Deserted Island

Cantaloupe + coconut milk = great cocktails AND great popsicles

When I was growing up, my dad grew all of our family's vegetables. In the summer, we snacked as we picked, before we even washed the dirt off:  Sweet carrots. Spicy radishes. Snappy green beans. Bright red cherry tomatoes that we tossed up in the air and caught in our mouths and somehow managed not to choke to death. My mother would load a wagon with club-sized zucchini and send my brother and I door-to-door to attempt to give them away. When my dad would walk into the house with an armful of fresh-picked produce, he'd always announce to no one in particular, "Bounty of the garden!"

So much to eat, so little time. By mid-September all the bounty will be petering away and all we'll have left is apples and concord grapes and beets. Until then, we're turning as much as possible into cocktails at Felicia's. We haven't come up with anything for the zucchini yet, but here's a few other locavore cocktails that made it onto our menu this week:

Twilight Mary: green coriander-infused vodka, tomato juice, and lavender lemonade with a salt rim.
Plum Manhattan: plum-infused brandy, violet liqueur, cognac, and a dash of Angostura bitters. 
Peach Sour: bourbon, fresh peach syrup, and a splash of housemade sour.

And one with a recipe:

The Deserted Island (almost known as 'Sex in a Hammock,' but the bartenders shot that idea down)

3 ounces pureed cantaloupe (rind removed)
1.5 ounces coconut milk
1.5 ounces rum
pinch salt

Fill a double rocks glass with ice. Add all ingredients. Toss in to shaker and back again to mix. Garnish with a lime wedge.

It appears the right one is significantly bigger than the left. Not an uncommon occurrence. 

Reviving the Apricot Sour

This month's Mixology Monday topic, Retro Redemption, kinda has me stumped. Jacob Grier at Liquidity Preference describes the 1950's-1990's as the Dark Age of Mixology, and challenges us to revive a drink from the "lost decades."

The problem is, I wasn't drinking yet. At least not anything worth reviving. Rum and cokes, Fuzzy Navels, jello shots, Budweiser. A teenage girl's best friends, until she throws them up. Today, I can't even be in the same room as Peachtree schnapps, and the dreaded rum incident got a dedicated humor column written by me on Angstgiving exactly two years ago this week.

History makes me crazy. For the love of Dale*, I can never remember where classic drinks came from, who made them, and why. Some cocktails are best forgotten, like my ex-boyfriend.

But family heritage is my notable exception. Be it stories or objects, I saved everything my parents ever gave me, like the pair of red knee socks with white hearts my mom bought for me over twenty-five years ago. Though they’ve faded and the elastic is long-gone, causing them to bunch around my ankles and slide into my shoes, I still wear them every Valentine's Day.

When Leah and I opened the Lounge, my parents passed on to us their 1974 Mr. Boston Bartenders Guide (53rd printing). I flipped through the classics, but what caught my eye were the handwritten recipes penciled inside the back cover. Tequila sunrise. Daiquiri. In my dad’s script, Margaritas: Fill a blender halfway with tequila and the rest of the way with half triple sec and half either limeade, or pop plus Rose's lime juice. And then there was my mother’s favorite drink, recorded in her slanty handwriting: the Apricot Sour.

Reading the recipe, I could taste it in my memory, its tart flavor known intimately to me from eating the liquor-soaked maraschino cherry left at the bottom of her glass. The trick to making a good one? Use fresh-squeezed lemon juice instead of sour mix, and make sure to add that splash of orange juice. Try it; I bet you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Apricot Sour

1 ½ ounce apricot brandy
1 ounce orange juice
¾ ounce lemon juice
a few drops of maraschino cherry juice
maraschino cherry

Fill a Collins glass with ice. Add brandy and juices. Stir. Garnish with maraschino cherry.

*Dale DeGroff, a master mixologist credited for the revival of "classic cocktails."

No, you're not crazy. If this blog post seems familiar, it's because portions of this column were previously published on this blog.

Visit Liquidity Preference to see the roundup of Mixology Monday cocktails worth reviving from around the world.

Key Largo Cocktail

Nat, our good friend over at Alpha Cook and a former Felicia bartender, sent a package of goodies this year at the holidays. Cookies, her infamous homemade marshmellows, a hat for Leah, and fresh grenadine were some of the treats in the box. This week, we opened the bottle of pineapple gum syrup. Since Leah and I are about to head to Florida for a week (don't worry, the Lounge will still be open), we thought we'd start practicing for our tiki drink marathon.

No blender necessary. We're too lazy to get it out, use it, clean it and put it away. Whew. I got tired just thinking about that.

Here's a picture of Nat riding a creepy rabbit. No pineapple gum syrup in your house? You can buy it online from Small Hand Foods in San Francisco, or try substituting pineapple juice.

Key Largo Cocktail

1 and 1/2 ounces Bacardi Coco rum
3/4 ounce pineapple gum syrup
3/4 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice
lime wheel

Shake with ice. Enjoy on the rocks or straight up.

Zaya Rum

A long, long time ago, long before silly rules existed about bloggers disclosing freebies, specifically August 2009, the folks who promote Zaya Rum sent me a bottle of, um, Zaya Rum.

We opened the Zaya at the Lounge and taste-tested it with the staff on hand, both those who were working hard and those who had stopped in to laze about and sip drinks, as so many of our staff are wont to do. Some of our staff gave this dark, Trinidad-bottled rum a thumbs up (sweet - caramelly - rich - full of flavor) and others weren't so excited about it for the same reasons. I made it into a mojito, with similar results. Love the flavor, too much flavor. Zaya is not your standard wimpy rum.

Then we forgot about it. The bottle sat on my desk with a sticky note that read "do not drink" which if there was space would have read "do not drink until I write a blog about it which I will soon and it's the least I can do since it was a freebie."

Fast forward to this week. Leah has a toothache. She's up every night at 3am or 4am to take Advil and while she's up she reads blogs, obsesses about whether or not the pulp in her tooth is dying permanently or if her nerve is just having a nervous breakdown, and she actually answers some emails so perhaps it's good use of her time though not the best timing. During the day she seeks out nips of hard liquor to dull the pain when she thinks no one is looking. I know, I know, she should see the dentist. She did. Twice. And it traumatized her and left her wondering if the poking, prodding and drilling further irritated the pulp (i.e. tooth innards), so now she is waiting, hoping to wake up one morning and find the pain simply missing.

Today, she found my bottle of Zaya Rum, stuck the "do not drink" sticky note to the bar, and pronounced the bottle her salvation. "Where did this stuff come from?" she asked me, sipping it straight, clearly not remembering our previous tasting in August. "This is good shit. Mmmm. Sweet explosion in my mouth. Kind of smoky, peaty, and full of molasses. I swear my tooth is feeling better."

So there you have it, folks. Zaya tastes great, and it cures toothaches (at least for a few hours).

Bunny Mojitos

The mint grew wildly this summer. Because it only rained once in the Northeast, a downpour that lasted about two months, the voracious four-lined plant bug used the mint leaves as umbrellas rather than dinner. We have consistently been able to harvest two pounds of mint a week for the Lounge mojitos.

But why did nothing else in the garden seem to be growing? Besides the obvious lack of sunshine, Eesah the Lounge Dog discovered the culprit while we were picking mint one day and I heard him pick up a squeaky toy. At least I thought it was a squeaky toy, until I realized that baby bunnies squeal just like squeaky toys upon finding themselves in a dog's mouth. And there it was, in the thick of the mint bed: A rabbit nest.

Because it only takes a couple of weeks for rabbits to mature into hypersexualized teenagers, a Teen Mama Bunny was small enough to get through the garden fence. She had found the perfect place to raise a family, inside a protected area full of bunny food, safe from the dog (except when we picked mint) and other hungry four-footed creatures.

Eesah uncovered two more rabbit nests this summer, one under a bush and one in the lemon balm, which has resulted in an extensive graveyard at the edge of the yard; we've buried six babies to date. I didn't have the heart to disturb the rest of the babies and even went so far as to erect a fence around one nest to keep the dog out.

Destructive, yes, but baby bunnies are so damn cute and fuzzy, even in the garden.

Dalmore and Mount Gay

Ask and the booze gods shall giveth. In a June blog post, I included Dalmore 1263 King Alexander III ($200) and Mount Gay Rum Extra Old ($45) in my Father's Day gift list and lamented that my sexy marketing pal, Sarah, did not include samples when she sent me info on these liquors. Well, Sarah just happens to be one of the three people who read my blog (my mom is the second and the third is some guy who lives in Sweden). Sarah heard my thirsty cries, and guess what I got in the mail a week later?

Let's get a few things straight about the Dalmore. Even if I did get a whole bottle of the good stuff, I probably would not share it with you. I discovered that there is a huge difference between expensive scotch and cheap scotch, and I'm keeping the good stuff for myself. But I will tell you what you are missing:

Dalmore 1263 King Alexander III is sweet and rich like butterscotch. It has a lightly toasted vanilla caramel flavor that skates smoothly across a wood undertone. Leah says that if scotch were a hard candy, she would want it to taste like Dalmore 1263. It made me - and this never happens to me - it made me want a cigar. I don't have $200 to spend today, but if I did...Oh, if I did. Mine all mine.

And in the other glass, Mount Gay Rum Extra Old. The website is annoying to navigate (Sarah, why are liquor websites so extravagantly complicated?) but Mount Gay is a damn good fruity rum swollen with the flavors of ripe banana and molasses...Hey, wait a minute, haven't we served Mount Gay at the Lounge? Why, yes we have. Time to get more on the shelf. Sorry to not remember this sooner but I have a little rum issue. My aversion to rum hearkens back to an incident at age 14 that involved a roller skating rink and Bacardi Rum 151. Oh, the 1980's. My parents punished my by making me go to work the next day, and god punished me when at work, ends up I had to serve rum cake to everybody. Thinking back on it, my mouth is watering. In a bad way. Rum, it's me, it's not you. You're OK, and I know the right person for you is out there reading this.

One last note about Mount Gay: If you come into the Lounge and think it is cool to pronounce Mount Gay with an overly dramatic French accent, like, "Can I please have some "Mow Geh" and coke?", we will laugh at you and make fun of you, unless you are actually French.

Hot (Spiked) Mulled Cider

Is there anything better in the fall than fresh pressed apple cider? There sure is: hot apple cider mulled with spices and doctored with a shot of liquor. Now that you have pulled your wool sweaters out of the closet, cleaned out the birdhouses and removed your air conditioner from the window, you can turn your attention to your favorite fruit of the fall season. Felicia buys both her apples and her cider directly from Kingtown Orchard, off of Route 89, a few miles past Taughannock Park. Their cider is tart and full of flavor (and for pie baking, Felicia recommends the Twenty Ouncer or Northern Spy apples). The cider recipe below hints at subtle spices and a touch of sweetness. It is guaranteed to warm you up after a cold day of raking leaves, especially with a nip of rum or whiskey added. Oh- and just a note to all you local folks - this is slightly different from the mulled cider at the lounge. That recipe will remain top secret until Felicia's cocktail book comes out.

Hot Spiked Cider

1 gallon apple cider
8 cinnamon sticks
½ teaspoon nutmeg
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon whole allspice
the peel off ¼ of a lemon

Put all ingredients into a large pot. Bring almost to a boil, then turn heat down to low and simmer for 15 minutes. Strain. Serve in a mug with one ounce of rum or whiskey.

Mixology Monday: Rum

The theme of this month’s Mixology Monday, hosted by Trader Tiki, is rum. Last month, for the fruit liqueur-themed Mixology Monday, Felicia made (and drank) a Banana Split Martini. Here’s the real deal: Felicia has to admit she hates making cocktails with fruit liqueurs. When mixing cocktails, Felicia prefers to use fresh, creative ingredients, not artificially flavored yellow dye number two. As a matter of fact, Felicia has become well-known for her Farmers’ Market Cocktails and other such labor intensive locavore drinks. Felicia would like to tell you that as much as you might love it, forget the Banana Split Martini. She was drunk when she made it. You deserve even better.

In the spirit of freshness, Felicia would like to introduce you to her latest creation: the Bananas Foster Martini. This martini has received a “two thumbs up” and a “bottoms up” from the staff at both Simply Red Bistro and Felicia’s Atomic Lounge. This cocktail is a bit of work, so you might want to order it at the Lounge or Bistro instead of making it yourself. If you decide to use this cocktail on your own restaurant/bar menu, be sure to give Felicia credit because this extraordinarily tasty winner is going into the Felicia Cocktail Book, due to be finished this summer (any thirsty publishers out there?).

The Bananas Foster martini is essentially the best Bananas Foster you have ever had, in liquid form. This cocktail is super fresh and dangerously smooth. Another successful dessert in a glass by yours truly.

Felicia’s Bananas Foster Martini
½ medium-sized banana
1 ½ ounce Goslings dark rum
1 ¼ ounce cinnamon spice syrup (see recipe below)
¾ ounce half-n-half
whipped cream
cinnamon

Muddle banana with rum, syrup and half-n-half until it is smoothie consistency (no lumps). Shake with ice. Strain into chilled martini glass. Garnish with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon.

Cinnamon Spice Syrup
½ cup water
½ cup dark brown sugar
½ vanilla bean
1 cinnamon stick

Cook all ingredients over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Bring almost to a boil and remove from heat immediately. Cover and let sit for 20 minutes. Remove vanilla bean and cinnamon stick. Let syrup cool before using. This syrup also makes a phenomenal vanilla ice cream topping, especially if you include a few slices of banana.

Bar Incident: Sirens and Mojitos

Felicia had her first visit from the flashing lights last night on her busiest night of the year to date. The red, white and blue lights artfully reflected off of the silver walls, creating an air of anticipation and mystery. If Felicia wasn't outside greeting the brave men in uniforms, she would have taken some nice photos of the reflections for you. No, it was not the police coming to arrest Leah who slapped a patron after one too many rude demands for drinks, money waving, etc. Nor was the newly painted men's room on fire after a mischievous patron snuck an indoor cigarette and carelessly tossed the butt into the paper towel-filled trashcan (from the few men who DO wash their hands). The story goes that a patron came upon the unfortunate circumstance of "falling ill" in the bar. What kind of illness? Though Felicia is sensitive and highly intuitive, she is not psychic and does not want to hazard a guess. Hopefully the individual involved will visit us and let us know that she is feeling better. Felicia did learn a few things from the experience that she would like to share with you:

1) a gurney/stretcher does in fact fit through that narrow space between the bar stools and the middle bar.

2) when going out for an evening on the town, you should make sure the people you are with know your last name (and your first name, for that matter).

3) if you are prone to "falling ill," you should pin your full name and address inside your tshirt before you go out. Or use a sharpy and those scratchy iron-on labels like your mom stuck in all your clothes when you went to summer camp.

4) the Ithaca police and Bangs ambulance dudes are really nice. Thanks, guys!

Felicia could go on, but out of respect for the privacy and potential embarrassment of the person who had the pleasure of riding all tucked in and cozy to the hospital with three handsome hunks attending to her needs, Felicia will pause and let you humbly ponder your own embarrassing bar moments.

And now here is the mojito recipe that Felicia promised you:

Mojito

1 ½ ounces rum
about 15 medium-sized mint leaves
½ lime cut into wedges
1 teaspoon sugar
club soda

Muddle rum, mint, limes and sugar in a pint glass (Felicia likes big drinks) until they are thoroughly mashed. Fill with ice; top with club soda. Toss into another glass and back again to gently mix.

The Mighty Mojito

The Mojito is back! After a long, long winter, the alley is open and the mojito is here. It's about time. Everybody has been ordering mojitos. What is a mojito, you ask? Only the most popular summer cocktail in town: rum, limes, sugar, mint and club soda. Felicia will post a recipe later. For now, you get to watch Felicia get big shipments of limes, observe the growth of the staff''s popeye muddling muscles and hear Leah's curses as she unclogs drains filled with mint leaves (no matter how hard Felicia tries, she can't seem to keep that mint out of the drains). Behold the Mighty Mojito!

Love Potion

How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? Are you a sappy romantic who plans to wine-and-dine your sweetie at an expensive restaurant, buy a dozen red roses and support the multi-million dollar Hallmark Corporation? Or do you buckle under the pressure of it all and at the last minute end up with the $3.99 florist special from the convenience store and a heart-shaped sampler box of gritty Whitman’s chocolate that will end up half-eaten, with just a teeny bite taken out of each piece to find the caramel but avoid the fake crisco-like maple or strawberry cream fillings? Perhaps you absolutely despise Valentine’s Day, because the only card you ever get is from your mother and it is the same one she sent you last year. If one more friend asks you about your V-Day plans, are you convinced you will explode all over them?

Fret no longer and drink this magical elixir. There is nothing like a little love potion to keep your heart company and get you through Valentine’s Day.

Love Potion

¾ ounce Amaretto Disaronno
¾ ounce light rum
5 strawberries
¾ ounce cream or milk

Fill hurricane glass or other fancy-shaped glass with ice. Add all ingredients except one strawberry. Pour entire contents into blender and blend until smooth. Return Love Potion to glass and garnish with remaining strawberry. Be Felicia’s Valentine and drink the Love.