a warm and fuzzy peach

It worked. And it occurred to me this was something like lassi. A popular yogurt drink from India, a lassi is pure refreshment from a cow. It’s essentially yogurt, blended with spices, sweeteners, and/or fresh fruit. Like mango, or in this case, a juicy summer peach.

non-fat plain yogurt from Ronnybrook

You’ll want to use plain yogurt, and kefir or drinkable yogurt works great. Depending on how fleshy your fruit is, you may want to splash in some milk with this — peach puree can be a little thick. The resulting drink should be slightly thick and smooth, with no icy particles, and if your blender’s good enough, not a conspicuous trace of skin and/or fuzz. It’s highly drinkable, with a velvetiness to the tongue. Thick yogurts like Greek or cream-top are best saved for a more fitting use. For this, I was happy to drain off some of the liquids that had built up in my quart of non-fat plain yogurt from Ronnybrook Farm, right into the blender along with a good scoop.

lassi-making steps are easy: one, two, and sipping is three

You certainly don’t have to add a dash of cinnamon to the mixture, too, but it lends a little complexity and lurking note of cooler days and nights to come. There should be no need for lemon to add extra tang — that’s in the yogurt, naturally. So pucker up and gulp it down, summer’s only here once a year.

Peach Lassi with a hint of cinnamon
(makes 1 drink)

1 medium-sized ripe peach, cored and chopped
1/2 cup plain yogurt (or kefir)
dash of cinnamon (optional)

Combine in a blender and blend well, until smooth. If desired, add a splash of milk for a thinner consistency.

Cost Calculator
(for 1 drink)

1 peach (from my Red Jacket Orchards CSA share): $0.35
1/2 cup yogurt (at $4/quart from Ronnybrook): $0.50
dash of cinnamon: $0.05

Total: $0.90 (try finding that price at a smoothie shop!)

Health Factor

Three brownie points: How delightful when something that’s supposed to be a “treat” turns out to be just that for your health as well? And unfortunately, how rare. Well, keep on making these all summer, with all kinds of fresh fruit — berries, apricots and plums. Peaches have Vitamin C, Vitamin A and potassium, and if you’re a fan of nonfat yogurt, you’ve got very few calories combined in this drink. Yogurt, as long as it’s natural, should contain live cultures that are probiotic, good for digestion and much more.

Green Factor

Nine maple leaves: Only thing not locally produced and sold was that flourish at the end — a sprinkle of freshly grated cinnamon. The peaches (and apricots, plums, nectarines and fruit juice) were in the first share of a new CSA I’ve become a member of, provided by upstate farm Red Jacket Orchards. And the yogurt was produced on the farm at Ronnybrook, close to home, too. I should mention that Ronnybrook makes a peach yogurt drink, along with other fruit flavors, that taste quite similar to this, if sweetened a bit more. So this should be a good way to kill your craving for those, as I have often — but you didn’t hear it from me!

Time to roll out the red cartons — strawberries are in season. And local strawberries, especially those from my CSA farm, are a real treat to start the summer off with. If it weren’t for these bursting-sweet nuggets of bright red, I’d never be able to make this shake half as good. No “five dollar shake” with milk and ice cream for me, please. This one’s just milk, fruit, basil and ice.

bundle of joy: my weekly allotment of greens (and reds)

It’s my first summer being a member of a CSA, and last week marked our first produce pick-up. Since I have so many friends in the same situation — with different CSAs in their respective neighborhoods — it’s been fun discovering the game of “CSA brag and compare”: What was in your share this week? Oh, mine had only sugarsnap peas, asparagus, bok choy, radishes, red and green lettuces, scallions and strawberries. You got strawberries!!? Yes. Life is unfair.  The local farm that serves Crown Heights CSA is Sang Lee, which some of us went to visit a few weeks ago. An organic vegetable farm, I didn’t think they dabbled heavily in fruits. Not only do they, but they grow some of the finest strawberries I’ve ever seen.

Conditioned to seeing golfball-sized strawberries with lots of white and watery flesh, we might mistake the little berries from the local farm as their malnourished cousins. But one bite should prove the theory wrong that bigger is always better. (The diminutive alpine strawberry has been adored for centuries, and is roughly the size of a thimble.) Most strawberries grown around NYC and found in markets this time of year look small, but are intensely sweet, with a melt-in-your-mouth juiciness and rich color both inside and out. Think of them as sweetened, condensed strawberries. While conventional strawberries at the supermarket are shipped from California and picked prematurely to make the journey, these ones are ripened on the vine (and often come with the hangtag stem, great for dipping!). Their shelf life may be short, but you won’t be disappointed.

I really wanted to eat these up with milk and cereal, just like I did as a kid. Seriously good strawberries seemed to call for really good milk, too, so I went to the Union Square Greenmarket to score some Ronnybrook. I was mistaken; the upstate dairy farm is not there on Fridays. But while chatting at the stand where I’d picked up a ton of pork from the week before, I was tipped me off to Milk Thistle farm, a few awnings down. Their organic milk, naturally, is pretty great, too (and they’re there every Friday).

In Taiwan, if you ask for a “fruit shake” from a juice stand, they’ll whirl some fresh fruit in a blender right on the spot with milk and a bit of ice. It’s not a “milkshake” in the American sense, but wow, is it good (my favorite was watermelon). This is entirely due to the fact that their plentiful fruits are grown on the tropical island itself, and taste ten times more flavorful than the ones I’d eaten elsewhere. With just a couple blocks of ice to make it cool, the milk, juice and pulp combine in a frothy, pastel-colored suspension that you’ll have to drink up soon or else it’ll start to separate (not that you wouldn’t want to). These strawberries seemed well suited to the treatment.

a fresh basil houseplant inspires a last-minute addition

Finally, my windowsill herbs have been doing nicely lately. Strawberry and basil just seemed a nice match. I forgot entirely about the cereal breakfast and had a few of these instead.

Fresh Strawberry Basil Milkshake
(makes 1-2 servings)

about 1 cup strawberries, stemmed
3/4 cup milk
2-3 ice cubes
1-2 fresh basil leaves, torn

Combine in a blender and puree until you can no longer hear big chunks of ice grate. Serve immediately.

Cost Calculator
(for 1-2 servings)

1 cup strawberries (from CSA share*): $1.00
3/4 cup milk (at $4/quart): $0.75
1 basil leaf (from house plant): $0.10

$1.85

*Calculating the cost of CSA items will be tricky. I’m splitting a full share with one friend, so paying $282.50 for 23 weeks of produce. That’s about $12 for every week’s batch… guesstimations will ensue.

Health Factor

Three brownie points: I’m a two percent milk person, and though whole milk would make this creamier (the farmer at Milk Thistle told me the milkfat rises to the top if I should ever want to use it for something fattier), I resolve to stay that way for simple drinking. Lord knows there’s plenty other ways to get some cholesterol. Strawberries are rich in Vitamin C and fiber, and they’re redness gives away they carry the antioxidant lycopene.

Green Factor

Nine maple leaves: Hm, I can’t find anything that wasn’t in season, organic, locally or home grown. Hooray!

“Honey, I want to see where they make the lite cream cheese” is one of my favorite lines in that irresistibly silly Christopher Guest mockumentary, Best in Show. A wife says it to her husband after he suggests visiting “the place where they make the cream cheese” in Philadelphia. This is the way I feel about Christmas’ favorite drink. Mind you, I have nothing against the classic eggnog, in its rich, frothy, decadence. In fact, it wouldn’t be too far off from combining my recipes for Bourbon ice cream and chai ice cream, and letting it melt to a cool, creamy slush. Custardy cocktails! For goodness’ sake, who can live without them? BUT… all the same. I wouldn’t mind seeing where they make the lite nogs, too.

To be even more typical-girl effete, I will lament the fact that this season has already given me a few extra pounds. Are you nodding? It happens to most of us, I presume. But instead of increasing this damage with onslaughts of super-rich holiday food (and drink), I’m going to try to reroute this train — now. While still creating something tasty.

I decided I needed some help in concocting this sister to the classic drink, so I enlisted some friends. Food expert Mark and pedigreed cocktail whiz Nick stepped up to the challenge/let me raid their liquor collection and bartending tools. My first hypothesis: forget the eggs. Supplement the heavy cream with some milk steeped in vanilla bean and cinnamon sticks. Emulate the froth with a touch of sparkling water, and shake the whole thing up to just before it explodes. Grate some nutmeg on top. Have a party in a glass.

learning the hard way that shaking carbonated water is pretty dumb

This was one of several ill-fated stabs at making Lite Nog. But after a night of experimenting with different thickening methods, combinations of Bourbon, rum and rye, and relentless spilling, we finally nailed the perfect formula. It was thick and flavorful, with a frothy head that recalled the soft peaks of beaten egg whites traditionally topping the drink. Yet it had no eggs nor heavy cream. I’m a little hesitant about telling this sensible audience the recipe. Because it involved a little chemical called xanthan gum.

I kind of wanted this to fail. All along, I could hear little voices saying, “Molecular science and mixology don’t mix!” Cocktail purists will pooh-pooh this to no end, I’m sure, and I’m bracing for the backlash (please be nice!). I watched the top dog cocktail expert David Wondrich make a batch of Tom & Jerrys (a winter cocktail very similar to eggnog) and serve it in a traditional metal punch bowl last year. He would not be very pleased. Neither would Alton Brown, who shared his eggnog recipe on NPR here, as well as the follies that most people make when giving homemade eggnog a go.

the chemical additive that could: xantham gum

shearing the substance into the sweetened milk

Granted, adding a bit of egg white froth on top of the drink would not have been terribly fattening, and hence cause to go to such chemically-enhanced extremes. But I sense that since eggnog, after all, is a popular party drink, many folks at home wouldn’t want to bother with separating and whisking eggs in the midst of their merry-making. So I wanted to keep eggs out of the picture, and make a chilled, sweetened eggnog-like base that could be kept in the fridge and mixed with rum or whiskey at one’s own discretion. If you decide to get a pouch of xanthan gum, then this recipe is really very simple. But if you don’t want to bother with chemicals, you can always just chill the flavored milk and add it to your booze un-thick. It’s tasty stuff, if noticeably “lite.”

a Madagascar vanilla bean adds flavor, without fat

way too thick: a botched batch

What we came up with in the the recipe below is the third, and my favorite, version with xanthan gum. The other ones were consumed, but I wouldn’t recommend it. At first, we sheared the thickening agent into the drink once it had been fully mixed. When we decided the drink wasn’t thick enough (barely the consistency of half-and-half), we went ahead and added more xanthan gum, resulting in a chunky, slimy, goopy mess that was not the least bit appetizing. For the next attempt, we poured the semi-cooled milk that I’d steeped with a split vanilla bean and cinnamon stick and sweetened into the blender alone. This was blended with 1% xantham gum. It produced a smooth, creamy and delicious flavored milk with a foamy head almost like a cappuccino’s. But unlike a cappuccino, it could remain like this cold. Once mixed with just Bourbon (which we all agreed was the best match for the eggnog spices of all three boozes), the ultimate Lite Nog was born.

My toast of this post goes: may your presupposed notions about chemical additives and molecular gastronomy broaden while your waistlines remain narrow. Cheers!

Lite Nog
(makes about 4-5 servings)

1 1/2 cups milk
half a vanilla bean
1 cinnamon stick
1/4 cup sugar
1.75 grams xantham gum
1 cup Bourbon (or more!)
nutmeg for sprinkling

Pour milk into a saucepan. Split the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape the “beans” into the milk. Add the pod to the milk along with the cinnamon stick and sugar and bring just to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Reduce heat to very low and steep for 25 minutes. Let cool completely, and chill.

Remove the vanilla bean pod and cinnamon stick and pour milk into a blender. While stirring on a medium to high setting, gradually add the xantham gum. Keep blending for five to ten seconds until the mixture is thickened and smooth. Divide Bourbon evenly among glasses and top with the milk mixture. Stir gently, and top with a sprinkle of nutmeg. Add a cinnamon stick for garnish if desired.

Cost Calculator
(for 4-5 servings)

1 1/2 cups milk: $0.75
1/2 vanilla bean (at $9.99/jar of 2): $2.50
1 cinnamon stick (at $3.50/jar of 7): $0.50
1/4 cup sugar: $0.15
1.75 grams xantham gum (at $9.75/100 grams at ChefRubber): $0.17
1 cup Bourbon (varies greatly, but roughly guessing): $3.50
sprinkle of nutmeg: $0.05

Total: $7.62

Health Factor

Four brownie points: The recipe’s raison d’etre. You get much less cholesterol in this recipe than you would with a classic eggnog, but you’ll still get calcium and confidence in the same glass. This drink is still very sweet, however, which makes it high in calories. Hey, one problem to solve at a time!

Green Factor

Five maple leaves: This one is tricky. The choice is all yours in how environmentally-friendly the elements of this drink are. Organic milk, from a local farm, or conventional milk, from hormone-treated cows. (I completely acknowledge the irony in seeking out all-natural, non-chemically enhanced ingredients for this drink when I’m adding a white powder called xanthan gum to it myself.) Bourbon is typically produced in Kentucky, so that requires a long truck haul (unless you live there), and probably none too efficient of one, at that. It’s worth trying out local craft whiskeys to see if one can become your favorite.

When I began this blog a year and a half ago, I made it pretty clear from the get-go that while I shunned restaurant, take-out and sidewalk stand food, I’d never attempt to shun drinking in bars. That was beyond my comprehension. It still is, but as time goes on, you learn some new things. And one thing I learned recently is that drinking in — in someone’s kitchen, with a few friends and as little as three ingredients — can be just as intoxicatingly fun as going out. Mind-blowing, right?

But the actual science of it is easy. I’ve long been intimidated by the term “home bar.” This conjured images of tilted shelves, sticky cabinets and floors over-crowded with dusty, half-empty bottles of alcohol of every imaginable stripe. But you don’t have to be a rampant collector of booze to throw together a few good cocktails. Most cocktails are merely varitions of one magic equation: 2 parts alcohol, 1 part sour, 1 part sweet. Or so I am told by Tobias Rower, who tends the bar at Gramercy Tavern and was kind enough to treat some friends and I to a cocktail tutorial recently.

our bartender for the evening

Let’s begin with the hardware. Not surprisingly, a few good gadgets are necessary to the not drinking out experience, as with not eating out. A good shaker with an attached strainer works, but even simpler, you could get yourself a julep strainer that fits atop a regular pint glass to strain a cocktail, which is a little easier to clean than a wire strainer. If you just tilt the julep strainer in the glass, it should align flush with the mouth of the glass so that no ice, pulp or muddled ingredients gets into the finished drink. Likewise, when it comes to shaking up the drink, the key is to get a metal cup or shaker with a rim that fits snugly into the mouth of the glass you’re mixing the drink in. Give the cups a little twist when fitting them together and the liquid on the sides will help create a suction-like effect that prevents any spilling while shaking. When you separate them to pour the drink into another glass, it should release with a “swock” sound.

a julep strainer

To measure the parts of a drink, the pros will tell you to use a thing called a jigger. Sort of like a two-in-one measuring cup, these metal devices usually have one end that measures out one ounce, and an opposite end that measures out half an ounce (they also come in different sizes). My take is that you don’t really need to get jiggy with it (okay, you knew that had to come) and invest in one of these as long as you have something else to dole out proportions with. Same goes for the bar spoon, if you have some other long spoon to mix drinks with. Tobias concurs that you probably have enough stuff in your kitchen to make these drinks, but the more often you do, the more you’ll find that some tools are just better suited to the tasks.

a citrus squeezer facilitates juicing plenty of lemons and limes

Now let’s get into the alcohol. “Never buy cheap alcohol,” is Tobias’ mantra. Sounds pretty basic, right? But, as a cheapskate gourmet as myself might ask: how cheap does “not cheap” alcohol get? Luckily, there are a number of “good” liquors out there with a reasonable pricetag. But there are some basic pointers to keep in mind, before wandering cluelessly into the aisles of unfamiliar bottles. With whiskey, definitely look to spend more than $10 for a bottle, and forget anything for less. Around the higher end of the $15-$20 range, you’ll have plenty of complex, flavorful options. (If you’re into Bourbon, you’ll love this New York Times article which describes the findings from an extensive taste test — a $20 bottle of Jim Beam Black made the top ten.)

Whiskey Sour

For the first drink of the evening, a Whiskey Sour, Tobias used a bottle of Old Weller Antique, which I’d never heard of before. Now, jettison any consideration of “sour mix” that your grandma used to make her cocktails. One part fresh sour citrus juice — lemon, in this case, or you could use lime — mixed with one part simple syrup is the authentic sour mix, and so much more delicious than citric acid and food coloring in a bottle. (Recipes follow below.) Tobias used sugar in the raw for this simple syrup (which is, by the way, equal parts sugar and water: simple), which he says gives the flavor a little more “roundness.”

a rim of sugar crystals adds a frilly flourish

Moving on to gin, we learned that there are two distinct categories of gin: the aggressively pungent, floral, herbal and overall “gin”-y dry gin varieties, and the smoother, more benign Plymouth variety. While the former category includes popular brands like Beefeater, Tanqueray and Bombay, the latter simply includes the brand made in the English town it’s named for, Plymouth. If you’re not a big gin fan to begin with (like Karol, for instance), you’re best off sticking with Plymouth. After mixing up a round of Gin Gimlets with both types, Karol found that she actually did like gin after all, as long as it was the right kind. Score one for not drinking out in New York.

the gin sniff test: can you guess which is the Plymouth or the Beefeater?

This is where the notes I’d been scribbling that night start getting really hairy, and waterstained. After a couple of cocktail-making detours that included the impromptu creation of a “Buffalo Wing” cocktail, we moved onto another classic drink, the Tom Collins. “If you ever want to impress a significant other’s parents, make a Tom Collins,” says Tobias. The simple secret here is that Tom Collins is the same exact thing as the GIn Gimlet, only with a spot of club soda. I guess that makes it a 4-ingredient cocktail — gin, citrus, sugar syrup and club soda. But believe me, after trying the previous two booze-heavy cocktails, you might want to refresh with this one next.

the gin Tom Collins is closely related to the Gin Fizz

I’ll end on this sparkling note, for now, and hope to post more not drinking out-related recipes and tips in the future. For me, the greatest lesson from this cocktail lesson had to be the one about not using “cheap” booze. After drinking several more cocktails than this post may lead on, I naturally braced myself for the worst hangover known to man. But as I went through my morning routine the next day, and even as I squeezed myself into a crowded subway for work, I was blithe — it never came. A miracle!

So here’s to drinking well at home, and learning new things all the while paying a fraction of the cost for classic bar-drinking favorites. And next time you do feel like drinking out in New York, pay a visit to Tobias at Gramercy Tavern, where the ever-changing, innovative cocktail list is sure to dazzle. Tell him I said what’s shakin’?

Whiskey Sour

2 oz whiskey
3/4 oz. fresh lemon
1 oz sugar syrup

Combine and shake with ice. Strain and serve on or off the rocks, with an optional garnish of fresh lemon peel.

a sharp knife shaves off peel for garnish

Gin Gimlet

2 oz gin
1 oz fresh lime juice
3/4 oz simple syrup

Combine and shake with ice. Strain and serve on or off the rocks, with a wedge of lime.

Gin Tom Collins

2 oz gin
1 oz fresh lime juice
3/4 oz simple syrup
4 oz club soda

Combine first three ingredients and shake with ice. Strain into a glass (with or without ice) and top with the club soda. Garnish with a wedge of lime.

[5/18 update!]
“Buffalo Wing” Cocktail

Muddle a piece of roasted red pepper with one shake of hot sauce and a grind of fresh pepper. Add 3/4 oz fresh lime juice, 2 oz blanco tequila, a dash of sugar syrup, and shake like crazy in an iced shaker. Strain and serve up, and try to enjoy it…

]]> http://noteatingoutinny.com/2008/05/16/not-drinking-out-in-new-york-classic-3-ingredient-cocktails/feed/ 7 http://noteatingoutinny.com/2008/03/06/hillary-rodhamgranate-rickey/ http://noteatingoutinny.com/2008/03/06/hillary-rodhamgranate-rickey/#comments Fri, 07 Mar 2008 03:31:16 +0000 Cathy Erway http://noteatingoutinny.com/2008/03/06/hillary-rodhamgranate-rickey/

I had a lot of leads to mull over for my next recipe, dedicated to Hillary Clinton. As Angeline commented in my Obama Rolls post, Clinton’s favorite food is lamb. Slate recently delved deep into theory on Clinton’s food preferences, citing her dearness towards a Midwestern regional specialty called the Oliveburger, and her overuse of butter on popcorn. Then this week’s Intelligencer column in New York Magazine reported that Hillary eats hot peppers like jalapenos, habaneros and banana peppers “at pretty much every meal,” according to her spokesman. I find this fascinating, if true. (I also think it’d be awesome if Hillary started a food blog called, “Eating Hot Peppers in New York.”)

But it was not a buttery, gamey, spicy or olive-laden recipe that I eventually decided to go with. Because, while she’s assuredly in the race for the presidential bid for the long haul, I think Hillary needs to loosen up. Go easy on the stoic-as-Mount-Rushmore eyebrow furrowing and tough talking like she’s about to take Obama “outside” for a brawl. I’m no doctor, clearly, but I think that Hillary could use a drink.

What a not-turn of events we saw on Tuesday. The race for the Democratic presidential bid is in full swing, two candidates are neck and neck, with no end in sight. Watch out for the flying mud. I fear that this race may actually take a big toll on the candidates’ physical health. I’m sure it’s already done its damage, and that may or may not be normal for this stage in the race. But the coming seven weeks before Pennsylvania… well, let’s just say that I wouldn’t like to be in either of their shoes, as well-lined with Dr. Scholl’s as they hopefully are.

So, if the hot peppers start to lose their energy kick, try pomegranate juice for a boost. The stuff is wildly expensive, but it’s somewhat justified in its concentrated levels of Vitamin C and antioxidants. Studies have also suggested that pomegranate juice helps lower cholesterol (for all that butter and burger-binging) as well as other added pluses. This was the backbone for my foray into mixology. Balancing the tartness of the pomegranate juice, I brewed some chamomile tea and sweetened it with honey. Chamomile, of course a well-known cure for the common stress (or the not-so-common stress of being the first woman to run a tight race for the Democratic presidential nomination), seemed a delicately floral complement. I see nothing wrong with mixing in a little relaxation while you’re boozing.

ginger keeps the blood pressing on

I’d originally wanted to add a twist of lime, hence the word “Rickey” (as in Lime Rickey) in the cocktail’s name, but I realized that it would be too sour a partner for pomegranate. I’d also planned on mixing this up with the more traditional gin. But seeing as there were a few new flavors just mingling and making nice with one another for the first time, I didn’t want to crowd the classroom. So I went with the neutral vodka. Finally, I added a few slices of muddled fresh ginger to the recipe for that beloved spicy contingent. Herbally speaking, the fresh roots have long been known to help improve blood circulation (one of the reasons I drink ginger tea in the winter, lest my pinkies turn white) as well as help prevent gas, nausea, menstrual cramps and inflammation of the blood vessels, which can lead to migraines. The perfect counter for a jalapeno-rich diet?

The more I think about it, the more it sounds like the stuff is a health tonic more than anything else, a super-drink with ancient healing secrets at its core. It’s funny, because I had little intention for the mixture other than being a tasty vehicle for alcohol. Whoever invented the cocktail was a genius. (Or, most likely, a doctor.)

Hillary Rodhamgranate Rickey
(makes one)

1 part pomegranate juice
1 part vodka
1 part brewed, sweetened and cooled chamomile tea (with honey or sugar dissolved in it when hot)
2-3 thin slices fresh ginger, muddled

Muddle ginger. Add vodka, tea and pomegrate. Shake with ice and serve on or off the rocks.

Cost Calculator
(for one drink — and wildly guesstimated)

1 part pomegranate juice (at $7.99/59 oz carton from Trader Joe’s): $0.45
1 part vodka (Smirnoff, at $15.99/liter): $0.60
1 part chamomile tea brewed with honey: $0.15
2 slices fresh ginger (at $0.99/lb): $0.05

Total: $1.25

Health Factor

Five brownie points: I’m a little torn here. I’ve never had so many conflicting thoughts on whether a recipe was essentially Good or Bad in health-supporting spirit, since this one is obviously an alcoholic beverage, and that in itself is Bad. But as we discussed earlier, there are a lot of unique benefits captured in this one drink, at a relatively low caloric count (if we’re going to think of it that way, as a food) and intoxication level (if we’re going to think of it in that way, as a narcotic). So, you decide. Hillary’s never been exactly consistent in message either. (But has any candidate?)

Two summers ago it was a bar on Columbia St., at the “edge of Cobble Hill,” called the B61 that I went to every spare happy hour I had and ordered a tall pint glass of bartender Jamie’s magnificent Bloody Marys. Two parts homemade Bloody Mary mix heavy on the horseradish, one part vodka, a splash of Guinness straight from the tap, spice seasoning on the rim of the glass, cracked black pepper at the bottom, three olives speared with a toothpick, a lemon, a lime, and a stalk of celery. It was a meal made in hell. Or Brooklyn. (And one that still doesn’t count as eating out.)

Nowadays I head to other bars, usually in my neck of the woods, but still can’t resist this dense concoction of salty, spicy, sour and refreshing. Neither, it seems, can the bartenders stop making them — and for the most part, just like this. Works great for me. I have to say, though, that my favorite Bloody Mary at the moment is from Superfine in DUMBO, where a decidedly smaller glass is individually filled with the bartender’s discretionary combination of tomato juice, vodka, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce, salt, pepper, lemons and olives. So you see what I’m driving at, don’t you? It’s better when you mix it up fresh — and who knows how to personalize that better than yourself?

a bloody barbecue

I can be a bit peevish about the level of saltiness in my Bloody Mary, and that all begins with what kind of tomato juice is used. Lately, I’ve been getting low-sodium tomato juice and adding a splash of McClure’s Spicy Garlic Pickle brine, which gives it some vinegariness and a little more spice. But if the only thing I can get my hands on is a bottle or can of regular tomato juice or V8, there’s plenty of sodium in it to go around, and I would forego the dash of salt in the recipe below. Incidentally, if you order a bloody mary at the Bushwick Country Club in Williamsburg, it’ll also be spiked with some of McClure’s leftover brine, gratis of the neighborhood chef.

Yeah, I know — it’s not exactly a fresh-blended tomato and celery smoothie with only the finest and most absent touch of alcohol. I say that because I think I once had one of these at Balthazar when I was taken there by my internship bosses one summer before I was old enough to drink. You know what I say to that? Hooey pooey ratatouille. This one’s got the kick of a rusty bike seat while treading on beaten-up cobblestone and the spice of a Sunday Prospect Park chicken cook-out. Which is to say, heavy, bold, and bloody strong.

Brooklyn Bloody Mary (with all the works)
(makes 1 drink)

1 part vodka (not that it matters, but the experts and my wallet agree it’s Smirnoff)
2 parts tomato juice or V8
1 tsp prepared horseradish
3 dashes Worcestershire
3 dashes Tabasco or other hot sauce
splash of Guinness (get a can from the bodega and use it up on a bunch of these)
twist of lime or lemon
splash spicy pickle brine (optional)
1/4 tsp coarse ground pepper
dash of salt
cocktail olives, celery stalk and lemon wedge for serving (and optional pickled pepper or small spicy gherkin — get creative)
Old Bay seasoning for rimming

Stir and serve on the rocks. If you want to be really fancy (un-Brooklyn style), garnish with cilantro, or better yet, muddle some into the mixture.

Cost Calculator
(for 1 drink)

1/2 can of V8: $0.50
1/8 can Guinness: $0.38
1 part vodka: $0.50
1 tsp horseradish: $0.15
dashes of Worcester and Tabasco: $0.10
twist of lime, lemon wedge: $0.20
salt, pepper: $0.02
celery stalk: $0.30
3 cocktail olives: $0.15
optional Old Bay rimming: $0.10

Total: $2.57

Health Factor

I’d never thought I’d be saying this for an alcoholic beverage, but it’s got a decent share of vitamins to keep it real on the health scale. Six brownie points reflect this drink’s rocky relationship with Vitamin C, fresh celery and lycopene, but its ultimate favor of the bottle (and salt).