UTICA TOMATO PIE: IT’S NOT JUST FOR UTICANS ANY MORE.

The city of Utica may be the Rodney Dangerfield of New York State, but make no mistake…its regional, Italian-American cuisine gets *plenty* of respect.

Think Fucazzo. Mushroom Stew. Chicken Riggies. Utica Greens. Half-Moons. And those ridiculously awesome Pusties.

But amongst all of Utica’s culinary jewels, my favorite—by far—is Tomato Pie.

What’s Utica Tomato Pie? Well, it’s not a pie—at least, not in the “post-Thanksgiving dinner” sense. It’s not a quiche. And, as any Utican will insist, it’s not a freakin’ pizza!!!

Arguably, it’s “pizza-like”—in the same way that, arguably, a chimpanzee is “human-like.” But Tomato Pie, like humans, is definitely the superior species.

The base of Utica Tomato Pie is a thick, soft, savory-cakey crust. Some compare it to focaccia. Others, to Sicilian pizza. But it bears no resemblance to the chewy, bread-like crust of a Neopolitan pizza, or the crispy cracker of a US thin-crust pizza.

Tomato Pie is topped with a thick, sweet, slightly chunky, slightly acidic tomato sauce. The sauce is dusted with grated Pecorino Romano cheese and a light sprinkling of dried oregano. It’s then baked in a shallow rectangular pan, cut into squares, and served at room temperature—preferably, with a pint of Saranac on the side.

That’s it! No mozzarella. No pepperoni. And, definitely…no triangles!

If you live in (or visit) Utica, make a bee-line to Roma Sausage & Deli, Holland Farms, O’Scugnizzo’s, or Daniele’s for a box of the real thing. But if you’re not in Utica, then life gets complicated.

Why? Because Tomato Pie is difficult to find outside of Utica. It’s even more difficult to find outside of upstate New York. And many a home cook has cried a river trying to replicate the beast at home.

But alas, Gentle Eater, your long, nasty nightmare of frustration and deprivation is over—because I have perfected the recipe for making a spot-on Utica Tomato Pie at home.

The recipe is listed below. I hope youse freakin’ like it.

THE DOUGH
2.25 cups all-purpose flour (I use King Arthur unbleached)
2 cups semolina flour (I use Bob’s Red Mill)
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon yeast (I use Fleischmann’s ActiveDry Original)
1.50 – 1.75 cups ice water
3 tablespoons EVOO
2.25 teaspoons salt

STEP 1: Using Kitchen-Aid mixer fitted with dough hook, mix all-purpose flour, semolina flour, sugar, and yeast on low speed until combined.

STEP 2: With machine running on low speed, slowly add oil and enough ice water until dough forms and no dry flour remains, approximately 1 to 2 minutes.

STEP 3: Cover mixer bowl with plastic wrap and let dough stand for 10 minutes.

STEP 4: Add salt to dough and mix on medium speed until dough forms satiny, sticky ball that clears sides of bowl, approximately 6 to 8 minutes.

STEP 5: Remove dough from bowl and knead briefly on lightly floured counter until smooth, about 1 minute.

STEP 6: Shape dough into tight ball and place in large, lightly oiled bowl. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 48 hours.

THE SAUCE
28 oz can of Crushed Tomato
6 oz can of Tomato Paste
3 garlic cloves (put through a garlic press)
0.25 teaspoon oregano
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
3.5 tablespoons sugar
Salt to taste

STEP 1: Combine ingredients in a sauce pan and let simmer on stove top until thickened.

NOTE: I typically make the sauce in advance, and let it sit covered in the fridge for a day or two.  I don’t know if this improves the sauce, but why tamper with greatness?

THE ASSEMBLY
17 x 11 inch rectangular baking sheet
Baking stone
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Pecorino Romano Cheese
Dried Oregano

STEP 1: Spray baking sheet (including rim) with vegetable oil spray, then coat bottom of baking sheet with EVOO.

STEP 2: Remove dough from fridge and transfer to lightly floured counter. Lightly flour top of dough and gently press into rectangle.

STEP 3: Using rolling pin, gently roll dough into 17 x 11 inch rectangle. Transfer dough to baking sheet, gently stretching dough into corners as needed.

STEP 4: Rub top of dough with EVOO and cover with sheet of plastic wrap. Let stand in a warm place for 90 minutes. I typically place the pan on the stovetop while the oven is heating (see Step 5 below).

STEP 5: One hour before baking, place baking stone on middle rack and heat oven to 500F.

STEP 6: Remove plastic wrap. Ladle sauce onto the Pie, then use the back of the ladle to spread it evenly.

STEP 7: Grate Pecorino Romano evenly over the sauce.

STEP 8: Using fingers, lightly sprinkle oregano over the sauce. Don’t go crazy with the oregano, or you’ll taste it until Tuesday.

STEP 9: Reduce oven temperature to 450F. Place baking sheet onto the stone. Bake 10 minutes, rotate baking sheet 180 degrees, then bake another 10 minutes (until bottom crust is evenly browned).

STEP 10: Remove baking sheet from oven. Transfer Tomato Pie to wire cooling rack.

STEP 11: When cooled, cut Tomato Pie into squares.

STEP 12: Post on Facebook, and place bets on which relative arrives at your doorstep first. Pity the fools that arrive too late.

**************************************************************

UPDATE:  When making the sauce, I used to slice, roast, and chop six Roma or Plum tomatoes and add them to the sauce.  I don’t bother anymore, because the sauce is just as good without them.  Why suffer extra pain for no gain, right?

EXIT THE NONNIE.

After a giggly, gourmet, ninety-six-ish year journey, my grandmother (“Nonnie”) has taken a seat at that great macaroni house in the sky.

When a family member dies, I’m usually asked to write a eulogy.  It’s a task that, quite frankly, I’d be happy to do without.

But in Nonnie’s case, the eulogy was easy. I’ve been writing it for the past decade.

You’ll find it HERE.

Buon appetito, and save room for the pusties.

THE PASSION OF THE ALDI.

 

There are two kinds of people in this world: (a) Those that know and understand Aldi, and (b) Those that don’t, but make assumptions about it.

Aldi, of course, is the German-based, low-cost, low-frills supermarket chain that has been expanding like a late July brush fire around the world and across the US. It stokes passionate feelings on both sides of the spectrum.

People that have never set foot inside an Aldi tend to make bold assumptions—the most prevalent of which is that each Aldi resembles the East Berlin supermarket that I visited in 1988.

That pre-unification, East Berlin supermarket epitomized the term “Fifty Shades of Gray”—but with none of its sexiness. The supermarket had gray walls. Gray floors. A gray ceiling. On its gray shelves were gray cans sporting gray labels. Those labels said things like “Meat,” “Gruel,” or “Arguably, a Vegetable.” The store had no natural light. No color. No joy. The only fresh products I recall seeing were the ones scurrying underfoot across the floor.

This bold assumption, Comrades, is wrong.  Aldi provides a bright, attractive, exceedingly pleasant, uber-efficient supermarket experience. I know this, because I’ve been shopping there for years. So let me provide some “Aldi Truths” to bring the naysayers out of the Cold War.

  • GIVE THEM NO QUARTER! No, wait! Actually, you’ll need a quarter. Aldi shopping carts are chained together in a corral. To take a cart, you must first insert a quarter in order to unlock it. But don’t worry, because you’ll get your damn quarter back when you return the cart. And you WILL return the cart. Why? Because—odd as it may seem—the prospect of forfeiting 25 cents provides enough motivation to dissuade even the most lazy Aldi shopper from abandoning his cart in the parking lot…within striking distance of my new Volvo. And in the unlikely event that a cart is abandoned, another Aldi shopper will pounce immediately and pocket a two-bits windfall. No abandoned carts means there’s no need for Aldi to hire extra staff to retrieve them. This keeps Aldi’s staffing needs lean and its overhead costs low.

20160213_152310_004

  • YOU’LL SAVE A BUNDLE. According to a 2011 New York Times article, analysts estimate that Aldi prices are 20 percent lower than those of competitors like Wal-Mart. Aldi officials claim that the savings are closer to 45 percent. I don’t know which figure is correct, but I do know this. Before becoming an Aldi convert, I did my grocery shopping at Sam’s Club—where I would typically spend $240 per week to feed my family of six. My grocery bills at Aldi now range from $100 to $140 per week. You do the math.  You just might save enough money to buy a new Volvo.
  • THE SELECTION IS SMALL, BUT IT’S BIG ENOUGH. A typical Aldi carries approximately 1,500 popular, high-turnover items. Competing large supermarkets may carry 25,000 items. A superstore, 100,000! So…you won’t find 16 different brands of peanut butter at Aldi, or 46 colors and textures of toilet paper. But who needs a smorgasbord of toilet paper?! You may think that you do, but you don’t. You really don’t. I distinctly remember the first time I entered an Aldi. I looked around and thought, “Jesus! This joint will barely make a dent in my shopping list.” But by the time I rolled into the check-out register, I had knocked-off 90% of my list. Aldi also carries a nice selection of organic products, gluten-free items, and fresh meats and produce. You’ll often find a smattering of interesting German imports, like krauts, marzipan cakes, and funky sausages. And as if that weren’t enough, Aldi frequently surprises (and delights!) by offering limited term specialty items. Last week, two lobster tails (for $12!) appeared in the freezer aisle. The week before, I noticed the debut of vegetarian samosas. So, fear not, Gentle Eater…for shopping at Aldi will not result in death from either malnutrition or boredom.

20160213_153433

  • THE PRODUCTS TRULY ARE GOOD QUALITY. 95% of the products that Aldi offers are private labelled. This, admittedly, takes some getting used to. But the quality of those products is top-notch. I’ve eaten my way across the store and back, and (quite honestly) have found only one product that I didn’t like—the organic peanut butter…it needs more salt! And, again, private-labelling means that low-to-no marketing costs are passed-on to the consumer. Aldi is a super-secretive organization, but I suspect that many of their products are contract manufactured by the same companies that make the major, highly-marketed brands that we know and love. Why do I think this? Because my kids never complain that they are eating private labelled Aldi products. To be honest, I don’t think they even notice.

20160213_152940

  • WHAT’S WITH ALL THE BAR CODES? Aldi’s product packaging is peppered with multiple, long bar codes. I’m talking obnoxiously long bar codes on all (or nearly all) sides. This is to increase check-out speed. These bar codes on growth hormones allow Aldi cashiers to whiz product off the belt, past the scanner, and into the cart at Mach 3 without ever missing a beat. Which leads us to…

20160213_164348

  • THE CHECK-OUT PROTOCOL. There is a check-out protocol at Aldi. And while it’s not as intimidating as ordering a bowl of Mulligatawny from the Soup Nazi, it is taken seriously by employees and customers alike. First, you don’t dally while placing the contents of your cart onto the check-out conveyer belt. Why? Because once the Aldi cashier grabs the first of your items from the belt, you will enter a time warp. An Aldi cashier will grab, swipe, and dump $100 worth of groceries into your cart faster than it takes you to pull the debit card (Note: Aldi doesn’t take credit cards) from your wallet. Notice that I said he will dump the groceries into *your* cart. This, also, is part of the check-out protocol. Once you’ve unloaded your items onto the belt, you’ll push your empty cart to the end of the counter—where the cashier will either maneuver it around to abut the end of the counter, or he will move it aside because he has already grabbed and positioned the last customer’s cart. He does this because…
  • THERE IS NO BAGGING AT THE REGISTER! No, no, no! The cashier won’t bag your groceries at the register. A pimply-faced, 17 year old clerk won’t bag your groceries at the register. And you won’t bag your groceries at the register. What you *will* do, however, is take your receipt and proceed to “The Shelf!”
  • ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY SHELF! As you leave the check-out lane, you will encounter a deep, waist-high shelf running the length of the wall leading to the exit door. This is where you will bag your cart full of disheveled, freshly paid-for groceries. Again, this is done for purposes of efficiency. Bagging groceries at the register is a common (and annoying!) bottleneck in the typical supermarket machine. Aldi doesn’t do bottlenecks. Plus, you probably needed the exercise. There’s one more thing that you need to know about bagging groceries at Aldi…

20160213_155421_001

  • BRING YOUR OWN BAGS! That’s right. Aldi doesn’t give out bags. You’re free to grab an empty box or carton if you find one lying around, but most Aldi shoppers come armed with a stack of eco-friendly, re-usable nylon bags for this purpose. Those bags often sport a Trader Joe’s logo, which is a bit ironic—since Trader Joe’s was founded by the brother of Aldi’s founder.

20160213_160107_001

[Authors Note:  Despite my clear passion for Aldi (and the fact that I live in the town where it is headquartered), please be advised that I don’t work for Aldi.  Although…that’s certainly not for lack of trying.  😉 ]

MOTHERS’ LITTLE HELPERS: COCKTAILS DE-MYSTIFIED FOR THE HOME BARTENDER.

 

You’ll find a copy of Mr. Boston Official Bartending Guide behind nearly every bar in the US. This Holy Bible of imbibing has more than 1,400 cocktail recipes. 1,400! That’s more than the number of hairs on the average middle-aged American male’s head.

It wasn’t always this way. In bygone years, one would simply order “strong drinks for men who wanna get drunk fast.” Today, however, it seems that most cocktails have 78 or 79 ingredients and are garnished with a sous vide-simmered Birch tree twig imported from the northernmost province of Finland.

It’s confusing. It’s intimidating. It’s enough to make a person just crack open a Heineken.

But is it really? Is mastering the art of the cocktail as complex as it’s now perceived?

The answer, in fact, is “No.” Like most unnecessarily complex things in life, cocktails can be broken into little pieces and re-assembled into a simplified, understandable system. And that’s what this post is all about.

In the paragraphs below, I’ll give you a template for creating both a solid foundation of classic cocktails and your own improvised riffs on those classics.

 

PART I: THE HOLY TRINITY OF COCKTAIL FLAVORS.

At its most basic level, cocktails are simply a mixture of whiskey, sugar, and bitters. Sure, many cocktails employ other elements. But whiskey, sugar, and bitters form the skeleton upon which the creature is built.

And when all is said and done, creating a cocktail—whether via a recipe or improvisation—is a matter of balancing three flavors: sweet, sour, and bitter. We’ll call these flavors the “Holy Trinity.”

As you’re adding an ingredient into the shaker, think about whether that ingredient will lend a sweet, sour, or bitter flavor to the cocktail. Then, think about how that flavor will be balanced against the others.

Maybe you want a balanced drink, in which all components of the Holy Trinity are in perfect harmony. Or maybe you want a cocktail that leans toward the sweet side. Or the bitter side. Keeping the Holy Trinity firmly in mind (and believe me, not everybody does) will raise the quality bar on whatever cocktail you’re building. By the way…this technique also works when cooking.

So…by now you’re thinking, “Yeah, I guess that all makes sense…conceptually. But I still don’t know how to make a damn cocktail!”

No. No you don’t. So, let me give you a template.

 

PART II: THE FOUR “MOTHER COCKTAILS”

A great home bartender needs a strong foundation upon which to create his liquid masterpieces. You will have that foundation if you master the four “Mother Cocktails.” They are the (a) Old Fashioned, (b) Whiskey Sour, (c) Negroni, and (d) Vodka Martini.

Master these Mother Cocktails, and you’ll have the power to create a whole slew of “Child Cocktails” by simply tweaking an ingredient here, swapping an ingredient there, and/or adding a little of this, that, or the other.

MOTHER COCKTAIL #1 (SWEET CATEGORY): THE OLD FASHIONED

The Old Fashioned is one of the oldest, simplest, and most elegant of cocktails. It’s also one of the most abused—often looking like a fruit cocktail dumped into an ice-filled glass of brown sludge. Order one in Wisconsin, and they’ll further ruin it with Sprite and Sour Mix.

Stop the insanity! A proper Old Fashioned is (surprise, surprise) nothing more than a beautiful balance of whiskey, sugar, and bitters.

OLD FASHIONED (i.e, the Sweet Mother)
4-8 parts Rye or Bourbon Whiskey
1 part Simple Syrup
2-4 dashes Angostura or Fee Brothers Old Fashioned Bitters
Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail or rocks glass, and garnish with lemon peel

20151218_192804-1

There you go! The classic Old Fashioned! Now, you can spread your wings and create some sweet (in both senses of the word) “Child Cocktails.” Here’s how:

  • Replace the Rye/Bourbon with Brandy, and you’ve got yourself a Brandy Old Fashioned!
  • Use Peychaud’s Bitters (rather than Angostura or Fee Brothers) and strain into an Absinthe– or Pernod-coated glass. You’ve just made a Sazerac…the official cocktail of New Orleans!
  • Replace the Simple Syrup with Sweet Vermouth and swap the lemon peel for a Maraschino cherry. You hold in your hand a Manhattan!
  • Add 1 part Fernet Branca to the mix, and you’ll have a pleasingly bitter Toronto cocktail to keep you warm on a cold Winter night!
  • Feeling a bit like a lumberjack? Well, then…replace that Simple Syrup with maple syrup and add a few dashes of Black Walnut Bitters. Your Canadian friends will weep with joy…politely, of course.
  • Feeling really cocky? Good! Go into your liquor cabinet. Way in the back, where those dusty, untapped bottles of strange stuff have been banished. What do you have there? Some funky Italian Amaro? A bottle of Nocino, Frangelico, or Amaretto? Some crazy German liquor that you can neither read nor pronounce? A collection of unconventionally-flavored Bitters, like Aztec Chocolate, Rhubarb, or Cherry? Pull them out, take a sniff, have a taste…and think. Would a spoonful of one or a dash of the other lift Mother to an even higher plateau? If you think so, then give it go.

MOTHER COCKTAIL #2 (SOUR CATEGORY): THE WHISKEY SOUR

Whiskey Sour is that cocktail that your grandfather let you sip on the sly during some family function in 1975. You were only eight years old, but you liked it.

When made correctly, a Whiskey Sour tastes great on a hot day and—as with the Old Fashioned—is the Mother Cocktail from whose loins a number of sour Children may spring.

WHISKEY SOUR (i.e, the Sour Mother)
4-8 parts Rye or Bourbon Whiskey
2 parts freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 part Simple Syrup
Shake with ice, strain into a cocktail or rocks glass.

20160119_202626-1

That’s the Mother. Here are her Children:

  • Vigorously dry shake 1 egg white before adding the other ingredients, and you’ll have a thicker, creamier, frothy Whiskey Sour.
  • Replace the Rye/Bourbon with Brandy, replace the Simple Syrup with Cointreau or Triple Sec, serve in a sugar-rimmed glass, and garnish with lemon peel. You’ve just made a Sidecar!
  • Replace the Whiskey with Tequila, the lemon juice with lime juice, the Simple Syrup with Cointreau or Triple Sec, and serve in a salt-rimmed glass. Guess what? Tu tienes una Margarita!
  • Replace the Whiskey with White Rum and the lemon with lime juice. You be drinkin’ a Daquiri, mahn! No blender required…or welcomed!

Do you see how easy this is? Let’s continue!

MOTHER COCKTAIL #3 (BITTER CATEGORY): THE NEGRONI

I was sitting in a bar in southern Italy around noontime in 2003, and noticed that most of the men were sipping a very pretty, intensely red drink. I asked the bartender what it was. He proudly informed, “Il Negroni!”

Negroni is a bracingly bitter cocktail that’s often drunk as an aperitif. It’s not always love at first sip. Acquiring the taste may take a few tries. But once you’ve acquired it, you’ll be in love forever.

And man-oh-man, is it easy to make!

NEGRONI (i.e, the Bitter Mother)
1 part Campari
1 part Sweet Vermouth
1 part Gin
Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail or rocks glass, and garnish with orange peel.

20160120_214820

Mother, meet your Children:

  • Replace Campari with Aperol, and you’ll have a lighter, more citrusy, less bitter riff on the Negroni.
  • Replace the Gin with Rye Whiskey or Bourbon, and you’ll have a Boulevardier—Negroni’s tastier, more rugged offspring.
  • Replace the Gin with Spiced Rum, and you’ll be sipping a Kingston.

MOTHER COCKTAIL #4 (NEUTRAL CATEGORY): THE VODKA MARTINI

And then there are those times—or those guests—that are just not up for adventure. You’re feeling bland….non-committal…neutral. And you want a cocktail that will taste great, but won’t challenge you. Who you gonna call?

“Martini. Vodka Martini.”

VODKA MARTINI (i.e, the Neutral Mother)
2-4 parts Vodka
1 part Dry Vermouth
Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with three green olives.

20160121_211239

Even the Plain Jane Vodka Martini got knocked-up:

  • For a Dry Martini, change the Vodka to Vermouth ratio to 6:1. Or, in more extreme cases, simply coat your glass with Vermouth and fill it with ice cold Vodka. Worst case scenario: Just pour a friggin’ glass of cold Vodka.
  • Prefer a brighter, less pungent Martini? Skip the olives and instead garnish with lemon peel.
  • Feeling grown-up? Replace Vodka with Gin for a more complex, herbacious Martini.
  • Swap the olives for cocktail onions, and your Martini will become a Gibson. A couple dashes of Celery Bitters will make it better still.
  • Swap green olives for black olives, and your Martini is now called a Buckeye.
  • Change the proportions to 6 parts Gin, 2 parts Vodka, 1 part Lillet Blanc, and then garnish with lemon peel. You’ve just made a Vesper.

 

PART III: PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

You now have the tools to be a fisherman, rather than a fish eater. Congratulations.

But your newly acquired, mad mixology skills cannot be kept quiet. They must be shared with—and shown off to—friends and family. At least, to those friends and family that agree to use Uber.

So, throw a party. Host a get-together. And when an indecisive guest hems and haws over what to order, try the following line of questioning:

Q1: Do you want something sweet, sour, bitter, or neutral?

Q2: Do you tend to prefer brown liquors or white liquors?

Q3: Do you like drinks with simple flavors, or complex?

Q4: Which type of complexity do you like most? Citrusy? Fruity? Winey? Herbacious? Nutty? Spicy? Salty? Smoky?

If (for example) the guest answers, “I want a neutral, white cocktail with simple, citrusy flavors,” then you’ll want to make a Vodka Martini with a twist of lemon peel.

If she answers, “I want a bitter, brown cocktail with complex, spicy flavors,” then she’d probably appreciate a well-made Kingston.

If he answers, “Gimme a sweet, brown cocktail that’s complex and winey,” then that dude needs a Manhattan.

If she gushes, “I’d love a sour, white cocktail that’s salty and smokey,” then duuuuuh! Hola, Margarita!

 

PART IV: FINAL THOUGHTS

In the end, the precise recipe for a cocktail isn’t the most important thing. It’s the care that you use when making the cocktail itself. Listed below are some nuggets of wisdom that I’ve amassed during years of research, self-destruction, and tinkering at my kitchen island:

  • The simpler the cocktail, the more important the quality of your base liquor. An expensive Rye Whiskey works wonders in an Old Fashioned, but would be wasted in a Boulevardier.
  • Fill your cocktail or rocks glass with ice water before you start mixing the cocktail. That glass will be good and cold by the time you are ready to pour.
  • A cocktail has two mortal enemies: (a) warmth, and (b) water. So, add your ingredients to the shaker first. Add the ice last. Once you are done shaking or stirring, don’t let it sit on the counter while the ice continues to melt. Immediately strain that drink into your chilled cocktail or rocks glass.
  • If your cocktail contains fruit juice, then it should be shaken. If it doesn’t, then it should be stirred. Sorry, 007…but you’ve been doing it all wrong. Stirring assures a crystal clear, ice shard-free cocktail. The only exception is the Bloody Mary (which should be “rolled”), but that’s a topic for another day.
  • Wisconsin, take note! Fruit juices should be freshly squeezed to order. Never use bottled juices or (god forbid) “Sour Mix.”
  • Don’t ever buy Simple Syrup! It’s a waste of money. You can make it yourself for mere pennies in five minutes. Just bring one cup of water to a boil, dissolve one cup of sugar into it, let it cool, and you’ve got Simple Syrup.
  • I prefer cocktails served up, rather than on the rocks. But if you take a cocktail on the rocks, then you want just one, very large ice cube or sphere—not a glass full of small ice cubes that will start melting before your first sip.
  • When garnishing with lemon, lime, or orange peel, express the oils over the surface of the cocktail, rub the peel two revolutions around the rim of the glass, then drop it into the drink. That peel should have no pith or pulp on the underside.
  • Not all cherries are created equal. Avoid those nuclear red sugar bombs found on supermarket shelves, and shell out the cash for a jar of Luxardo Maraschino or Griottines Morello cherries (i.e., the real thing!). The difference will be both mind-blowing and life-changing.
  • Rather than dealing with jiggers and ponies, buy an OXO Good Grips Mini Angled Measuring Cup. Measuring out liquors is faster, easier, and more precise with one of these. And they’re cheap!
  • A great source of quality, reasonably price bar ware is Cocktail Kingdom.
  • I recommend the following four books for your home cocktail library: Mr. Boston; The Bar Book: Elements of Cocktail Technique by Jeffrey Morgenthaler; The PDT Cocktail Book by Jim Meehan; and Bitters by Brad Thomas Parsons.
  • To stay on the cutting edge of cocktail culture, a subscription to Imbibe Magazine is a must.
  • The recipes above that I give for Mother Cocktails are written in proportions. Converting these to ounces or milliliters is easy, even for a math-phobe like me. The formula is as follows:

(# of parts liquor at issue/Total # of parts all liquors) * Total size of the cocktail (in either ounces or milliliters) = Amount of the liquor at issue (in ounces or milliliters) that you’ll need to add

Example:
If a Whiskey Sour is 4:2:1 parts Whiskey to Lemon Juice to Simple Syrup and you want to make a 4 ounce drink, then you would add:
(4/(4+2+1) = .57*4oz = 2.28 oz Whiskey
(2/(4+2+1) = .29*4oz = 1.16 oz Lemon Juice
(1/(4+2+1) = .14*4oz + .56 oz Simple Syrup

Feel free to round up or down. Even the OXO Measuring Cup isn’t that precise.

  • There are bars and restaurants that pride themselves on serving cocktails as big as a human head. This is unconscionable…and it hurts. A cocktail should not exceed 4 ounces in total. Or, as the kids say, #NoMoreThan4! Your cocktail will remain chilled to the last sip, you’ll have a realistic possibility of having a second one, and most importantly…you’ll thank me in the morning.

In the end, cocktailing isn’t rocket science. Hell, it isn’t even science. It’s art. No cocktail recipe—regardless of how long-standing or generally accepted—is gospel. If you have a cocktail recipe that you like, keep tweaking it until it becomes one that you love.

Then, share the love. You now have the skills to do it, and do it well.

20160120_174730

 

THE JERK.

When I was completing my MBA at the University of Illinois more than a decade ago, I had a classmate named Bigby.

Bigby was from Jamaica . He was in his late 40’s to early 50’s. He had a house with sound/light system, dance floor and disco ball in the basement. And he LOVED to throw parties.

At one of Bigby’s parties, his wife (also Jamaican) walked in carrying a silver platter piled high with Jerk Pork.

Now…I had eaten Jerk Pork many times beforehand—including at a roadside stand in Ocho Rios , Jamaica —and liked it. But Bigby’s Jerk Pork was on a whole ‘nuther level. It was thick, dark and heavy with spice. It had a pungency that would send your nostrils into spasm. And it was hot enough to melt your contact lenses.

In short, it was a Jerk Pork that I’d remember on my death bed.

And like a complete moron, I FORGOT TO ASK FOR THE FRIGGIN’ RECIPE!!!

This unforgivable, life-ruining, lapse of reason has haunted me ever since. In short, it was a screw-up that I’d remember on my death bed.

But alas…teeter-totter of life has a miraculous way of leveling itself. “Spoon”—the woman at Acme Low Carb Tongue Depressors, Inc. whose office is next door to mine—recently emailed me a recipe for Jerk Pork that she claimed was barn-burner.

Last weekend, Agatha and I made the recipe. I still can’t believe it. It’s as good as Bigby’s.

Sing with me, bruhdahs!

Won’t you help to sing
These songs of freedom

Cause all I ever have

Redemption songs

Redemption songs.

JERK [FILL IN THE BLANK]

The Marinade:

4 Habanero or Scotch Bonnet chiles—do NOT remove seeds or ribs
4 cloves garlic
4 scallions
1-2 inch ginger
1 sprig thyme
¼ c. packed brown sugar
4 t. ground allspice
4 t. chile powder
2 t. cinnamon
2 t. nutmeg
¾ c. vegetable oil
¼ c. lime juice (fresh)
2/3 c. soy sauce
Black pepper

Step 1: Puree the above ingredients in a blender until smooth.
Step 2: Reserve ¼ c. of marinade for the Dipping Sauce (see below)

The Meat:

If grilling: Pork tenderloin; Pork chops; Chicken parts; and/or Skirt steak.
If smoking: Pork Boston Butt; Pork spare ribs; Pork baby back ribs; Beef brisket; Chicken (whole, split vertically).
Step 1: If you haven’t already, reserve ¼ c. of the marinade for Dipping Sauce.
Step 2: Marinade meat for 24 hours in the fridge.
Step 3: Grill or smoke the marinated meat.

The Dipping Sauce:

¼ c. of reserved Jerk Marinade
1 c. chicken stock or broth
Step 1: Whisk together ingredients in a sauce pan.
Step 2: Reduce on stovetop until thickened.

Update (October 30, 2016) — Slow Cooked Jerk Goat Stew:

The Chicago Cubs are in the World Series, and not doing very well.  So, in a civic-minded effort to break the Curse of the Billy Goat, we invited some Cubs fans/friends over for a lunch of Jerk Goat.  The butcher at the halal meat market (where I bought the goat) recommended braising the meat in a sauce, rather than grilling or roasting.  So I adapted the recipe above as follows:

Step 1:  Buy two goat legs (approximately 7 lbs total), each cut into three large hunks.

Step 2:  Triple the Jerk Marinade recipe above.

Step 3:  Marinade the goat for 24 hours as described above, and reserve the rest of the Jerk Marinade (which will be a lot) in the fridge.

Step 4:  Place goat hunks in large slow cooker.

Step 5:  Dilute the reserved Jerk Marinade with chicken broth and beer.  You will want the proportions to be 2 parts Jerk Marinade, 1 part chicken broth, and 1 part beer.

Step 6:  Pour the Marinade/broth/beer mixture into slow cooker until it covers the goat.  I also added chopped kale and peas, because my wife demands vegetables with her meal.

Step 7:  Set slow cooker to “low,” and cook for 12 hours.

Step 8:  Remove goat hunks from slow cooker, pull meat from the bones, and return meat to the slow cooker.

We served the Jerk Goat with basmati rice and a creamy cole slaw (to reset your tongue when the habanero burn encroaches).

Show Buttons
Hide Buttons