lesliec

OK, that settles it - I'm coming to visit. That skull mug for the Fog Cutter is fantastic, and there are a couple of things on the list (Thunder Child, Jack Ketch) that might fit very well into our growing steampunk cocktail list. To return to our scheduled program ... every now and then I just have to break out the tiki mugs and have one of my celebrated (by me) Mai Tais. I've had a cold this week, so a couple of nights ago was just such an occasion. I tweaked it a little this time; W&N, Appleton 12, Inner Circle, Curaçao, falernum and orgeat (the last three homemade). God, that's a nice drink. Particularly if you're not planning on standing up afterwards.

Last night, The Persecuted Gentleman (speculation as to why I chose that one would probably be pointless). Very nice, and to me reminiscent of Rafa's famous The Man Comes Around. Probably something to do with the Cynar and Fernet, although the Gentleman has rye to the Man's Mezcal, and one or two, or three, other differences. However, those who have taken any notice at all of my posts in the Drinks topics will appreciate that the comparison represents high praise. The creator suggests dropping back the Fernet if the menthol is too strong. I liked the specified half ounce but knowing Wifey's views on Fernet I gave her a modified version and received no complaints.

Aside from the plastic twisty ones that came with the fridge/freezer, we have some other cheap and nasty twisties which are OK in a pinch (eg if we know we're going to need more ice than usual over a short period), and a couple of varieties of Tovolo. The ones we use most often are the big silicone cubes (four to a tray). I'd like to use the huge spheres more, but we had to get a couple of special glasses so they'd fit, and I prefer our other glasses! The silicone ones work well but, lacking faith, I'm always prepared for them to rip as I pop a cube out. Hasn't happened yet and we've had them a year ...

Hipsters? Moi? But that aside ... Something which should be noted is that the MC M&C (say that fast!) tastes exactly like the cheese you put in it, which for me justifies using the best and tastiest you can manage to find/afford. My pick is an aged gouda with some nice sharp cheddar. Pre-MC I used to enjoy M&C but the contrast is huge - wallpaper paste compared to very creamy cheese, let's say - and I'll never go back. I haven't had any issues with sourness; provided your emulsifier is actually what it says on the tin, I can only suggest trying different cheeses.

Hi Franci. My favourite fruitcake recipe makes anough for two 'normal' sized cakes, so I generally freeze one. I just wrap it securely in two layers of foil - no plastic, no vacuum seal - and it keeps successfully for a couple of weeks (I haven't tested it longer than that; once Cake 1 is finished I need Cake 2 immediately!). You're talking about slices, though, rather than whole cakes, so sealing may well help keep them fresh longer. If you're using a chamber you'd want to watch the vacuum level to avoid squashing the slices, but a FoodSaver type should be fine. Or ... just eat it faster!

I've been sitting on this post - not literally - for quite some time; life kept getting in the way. But finally, I can tell you all about my experiments with a liqueur made from the seeds of the bay tree. In my part of the world, the bay trees (Lauris nobilis, not the Californian bay) drop large numbers of seeds around March/April every year. 'Fresh' ones look like this: and if left to their own devices for a few days, lose their skins and end up like this: Last year I started this topic asking if anyone had heard of culinary uses for the seeds and received a few good replies. At around the same time I started distilling my own alcohol and was looking for interesting things to make with the output. On my favourite distillers' site I found this page where, if you scroll down a little, you'll find a very basic recipe for Liqueur de Laurier - bay liqueur made with the seeds. Trouble is, the recipe consists of nothing more than a list of ingredients, with no instructions about what state the seeds should be in - with skins or without, whole or bashed or grated - or how long to soak them in the alcohol. Experimentation was called for. I started with the specified litre of 50% spirit, 100 grams of seeds (I went with the ones without skins), a whole nutmeg (the recipe specifies 4 grams but doesn't say anything about grating) and a clove. The seeds released a certain quantity of air bubbles: That settled down after a while and I sealed the jar and put it away in the pantry. Now the hard part - how long to leave it? Over the next few weeks the mixture started developing a subtle gold/brown colour, but stayed clear rather than cloudy. This seemed to me to be a good thing. It also began to small, albeit faintly, of bay (the seeds themselves do have the smell, but nowhere near as strongly as the leaves). After six weeks I decided to pull it out, sweeten and dilute it and bottle it. And here it is: I'm pleased to report complete success. The final product is around 25% alcohol, lower than some of the things I've made which, although good, are distinctly 'grown up'. It's very pleasant to drink on its own as a digestif ( a bit of ice is good with it) and, slightly to my surprise, I've found it substitutes very well in cocktails requiring yellow Chartreuse - like this one, which I highly recommend. I'll certainly be making this again. Given how well it turned out I'm reluctant to change anything, but I'm also slightly tempted to see what breaking up the seeds and/or grating the nutmeg would do. We'll see ...

Is the 'Spherification' on the label another clue that what you've got is a calcium salt rather than a sodium one? I haven't made spheres for a while, but I don't remember sodium citrate among the ingredients. Sodium alginate, yes ...

From my experience making orgeat I'd say even five minutes is on the long side. The technique I follow is to put my almonds in a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Quickly bring to a boil over hight heat. Remove from the heat (a few seconds boiling is all they need), dump into a stainer and rise with cold water. Put some good music on and rub the skin off each almond. Th skins will (mostly) just pop off as you squeeze the end of the almond. Very therapeutic, if time-consuming.

Nice topic, Liuzhou. When I was a teenager, my bedroom/homework room was a sleepout attached to the garage, separate from the main house. This was a good arrangement; I had my stereo and, up to a point, could have it as loud as I liked. I also liked to have snacks while doing my homework out there, and went through a phase of having a bag of fresh, in-the-shell peanuts on hand while Led Zep IV was on the stereo. To this day, I can't hear Black Dog or Rock and Roll without the taste/smell of peanuts popping into my head. I'm sure there have been other sounds or experiences that have triggered a food memory, but this one's the most vivid.

Yes, I should have mentioned that mine was also with Punt y Mes. Lovely stuff.

Hi Erin. Haven't chatted to you here for years! If you haven't already, also have a look at the no-knead topics. My favourite (there are others) is Artisan Breads in 5 Minutes a Day. It's a very easy way to get very satisfactory bread.

I yuppie, therefore I brunch. Or possibly vice versa. Sometimes it's nice to go back to the basics. Tonight's drink is a proper 1:1:1 Negroni and it's highly splendid. Of course I'm using Colonel Hawthorne's barrel-aged navy strength gin, but how much difference could that make? No, sorry - you can't have some. There isn't enough of it.

We should keep in mind that a living cow would have no use for being tenderised or having its flavour enhanced while walking around (I was going to say 'while moooving', but restrained myself, manfully).

Content advisory: this is going to come across as an unalloyed rave, so let me say at the outset that I have no connection with Pen-y-bryn other than having stayed there. Now we have that out of the way - we visited Oamaru for the annual steampunk festival at the end of May this year. Oamaru, a small (pop. 13,500) town in the South Island, 250-odd kilometres south of Christchurch, is home to one of the best-preserved Victorian precincts in the country. The Victorian heritage has been embraced by the community, first with Victorian re-enactments and now with the steampunk. Oamaru calls itself the steampunk capital of New Zealand and the annual Queen's Birthday weekend festival is quite an event. I could go on at length about it, but this is not the place. Pen-y-bryn (Welsh for 'top of the hill' was built as a private residence in 1889 and is said to be the largest single-level residential building in New Zealand or Australia. Here's the house: I met one of the owners, James Glucksman, through eGullet a couple of years ago, and this seemed a good opportunity to meet my first eG member in person. James and his partner James Boussy (collectively: the Jameses) are of US origin and have travelled extensively. The lodge is filled with period furniture, some of it made for the original owner, and decorated with items the Jameses have collected in their travels. There's a full-sized billiard table (one of three originally made for the New Zealand Parliament; only two would fit so the remaining one came south to Oamaru), a fantastic original Florentine ceiling in the dining room and any number of comfortable places to sit with a book and a drink. James G is the chef and morning guy (how does that work?); James B is the gardener and evening guy. Breakfasts are splendid affairs. As well as (lodge-made) fruit compotes and wonderful jams, muesli and granola, there's always a freshly-made baked selection. I can thoroughly recommend the croissants, although it's hardly fair to single them out, and I have now been introduced to the famous biscuits and gravy - not something often seen in this country: Rather good, I must say, and I'd certainly have them again. I think James said we were the first guests he'd tried them out on. Sausage gravy, for those of you who are wondering, with just the right level of cayenne. After that, if you have room, you can have your choice of eggs with bacon, tomato and mushrooms. For the first few days of our stay we were deeply involved in festival affairs and weren't able to have much more than bed and breakfast at the lodge. Not that that's anything to be sneezed at, and it was very pleasant to return exhausted in the evening and be met at the door by a James, then ushered into the drawing room for a nightcap - a cocktail, or perhaps a glass of James G's excellent nocino. On the final day, though, we thought we'd be having a free day and arranged to have two of our friends who had travelled with us from Wellington join us for afternoon tea, to be followed by a proper dinner. As it turned out we got involved in a photo session in the morning followed by helping pack out of the hall much of the festival had been in, and ended up with only minutes to spare to dress accordingly (one must!) before we were due for tea. But we made it: (Photo courtesy Pen-y-bryn) What a splendid group of people, don't you think? That's Mrs Hudson (the younger) on the left, then Professor Carwardine, myself (Colonel Hawthorne) and Captain Smollett. A very distinguished gathering indeed - you may note we had abandoned most of our steampunk accoutrements in favour of a more pure Victorian look (save for my cravat pin, but you can't see that). Our host was no less splendid: OK, he didn't dress like that all the time - he cuts a decent figure in chefs' whites as well - but this is what eGullet members can look like when they put their minds to it. We'd neglected to warn James until the day before of the gluten-free needs of one of the party, but he came through magnificently. Coronation Chicken and radish/poppy seed/cream cheese sandwiches, feijoa/orange tea cakes, English Royalty currant scones with clotted cream and more of James's jam, along with rosewater/pistachio meringues. All except the tea cakes were gluten-free, and everything was delicious. I haven't experienced much gluten-free food, but if it's all like this (I believe it isn't!) I think I could cope. This was accompanied by our choice from an extensive tea list. The Jameses have lived in China and their knowledge of teas is vast - they can even do a full tea ceremony at the lodge if you wish. A very nice touch at afternoon tea was a discreet printed menu so we knew what we were having. This was also offered later at dinner, to which we now come. Having dressed appropriately (again - we're getting quite good at it), Mrs Hudson (the younger) and myself descended to the drawing room. James G had unfortunately been forced to take to his bed after our afternoon tea (we wore him out?), but his young sous-chef Ashley and James B between them gave us a memorable evening. We began with cocktails and canapés. For the former we introduced James to the Tolkien. He's not big on mixed drinks, but allowed that this one was acceptable. Ashley presented this offering: Chorizo, mozzarella and cherry tomato with a balsamic reduction, and crostini with stracchino and saltwater pearls. The chorizo and both cheeses were - again - made at Pen-y-bryn. After a suitable interval we repaired to the dining room: James offered a short but thoughtful wine list, and we went with this: When one is in Otago, one must drink Otago, don't you think? It was a good choice; warm and fruity and a good match for what followed. First, cocoa-nib rubbed North Otago venison carpaccio, served with confit cherry tomatoes, sumac-sesame-pinenut soil and balsamic caviar: This was a beautiful dish in every way. Although our first meeting on eG was in the chamber sealer topic, I hadn't been aware quite how modernist James's cooking was (he told me later he likes to include modernist elements, but may dial it back depending on his audience. He didn't have to hold back with us). Ashley was able to chat happily about maltodextrin and spherification - I flatter myself she enjoyed having people there who knew what she was talking about! But as the eG modernist community knows, it's not all about appearance; the food has to taste good. And this certainly did. If you're wondering, the white thing is a coconut sphere. Then, after a lovely mixed fruit sorbet with triple sec, the main course. Sous vide confit Canterbury duck leg with crumbed quenelle of pommes sarladais, sorrel gel, baby bok choy and haricots verts, and port wine sauce. And look at the plate: This was another lovely dish. The duck was just as tender as you'd hope, with just the lightest crisping of the skin. The potato quenelle was possibly the best of its type I've had, and the dots of sorrel gel provided a nice bitter note. We had to finish eventually and it was in fine style, with passionfruit-lemon tart with crème Chantilly and vanilla-poached tamarillos (the photo was taken before the tamarillos went on): Again, delicious. A shortcake-style base with delicious thick cream, complemented beautifully by the berry (I think) sauce and tamarillos. After this it only remained to return to beside the fire in the drawing room to join some new friends we'd made on this trip. A very lovely evening. I can thoroughly recommend Pen-y-bryn for a luxury stay if you get to this part of the world. I have only one criticism - it's completely ruined me for staying anywhere else. Thanks, guys. We'll be back.

Last night I made the very interesting Ligurian Sea. Interesting particularly as it features a louched absinthe/water layer on top of something very similar to a Negroni (gin/vermouth/Cynar). In terms of appearance it was a roaring success. The recipe didn't ask for one, but I put a large ice cube in the glass with the Negroni component and poured the separately-mixed absinthe and water onto it. The results is a fascinating smoky layer over the dark liquid underneath. But ... until you've drunk your way through the layer, there's not really much happening. I have no problem with absinthe, but for me the drink started off quite watery. And once you're through the layer I'm not sure the lingering hint of absinthe does the rest of the drink many favours. I'll probably make it again because it looks amazing, but I'll experiment with cutting back on the water and perhaps using a 'proper' Negroni with Campari as the base, just to be a bit more assertive. The above doubts notwithstanding, I'd recommend you make the drink - once - because of how it looks. Sorry, I didn't do a photo to save you the trouble.

I'm the other one. Welcome, CatPoet. We like a sense of humour. And food. You'll have fun here. See you round the forums, Leslie

Hi Jon. Welcome to eGullet. Sounds like you're in the right place. You'll find plenty on the topics you're interested in, and we're always keen to hear about new things. Have a good look round, post where you can and have fun. See you in the forums, Leslie

Sounds tasty. Some interesting snippets for us home distillers, too.

The Java Jive song is called ... wait for it ... the Java Jive (and I believe is Prohibition era so not about coffee at all). I'm intrigued by this gopher guts business. My education has clearly been lacking.

I wish I'd thought to ask that. I used my own amaro, which may be a tad assertive for this. Bloody good, though.

Yep, a Brooklyn is one of the possibilities. But this sounds interesting

Followup on the Laughing Boy - I kinda liked it; Wifey didn't. So it doesn't pass the Man Comes Around wife test, as previously discussed. Sorry, Dan. It's advisable with drinks from the dark side like this one to only make one and see how the other half likes it. Fortunately, that's what I did.

Ilegal Reposado and Amer Picon from whiskyshop.co.nz, who have some exceptionally interesting and hard to get (in NZ) products. Highly recommended, if you live here. Service is good, too; I ordered on Friday afternoon, got a shipping notification on Saturday and the stuff arrived shortly after I got to work this morning. Looking forward to playing with the Amer. I've never had it before.

How about '[unspecified number] bottles of beer on the wall'? There's an old, highly politically-incorrect (now - this sort of thing was OK in the 60s!) one from this part of the world called Puha and Pakeha about the (supposed) tendency of Maori to put Pakeha (us whiteys) in the stewpot. Puha is a leafy vegetable, treated vaguely like spinach. Then there's Streetband's Toast, from the 70s.

I like that in a woman! Sounds like my kinda drink too - I just added it to Kindred. Thanks, Czequershuus.