Container Gardens and Container Cocktails: It's Summertime and the living is easy

Being essentially a lazy person, I find that container gardening is the only horticulture for me (cue Dorothy Parker quote here). It's a very small amount of effort for a great deal of validation: riotous color in exchange for some dirt and water. Here I proudly pose my red, white and blue gardening just in time for the 4th of July holiday.

Container cocktails are in the same spirit. A small amount of energy is placed into the right pitcher of drinks, and riotous colorful dialogue blooms among the summer barbecue guests.

On the lookout for some summer holiday entertainment ideas, I found a couple recipes in a recent New York Magazine issue.

Of the four highlighted container cocktails, I found that the simplest were the best, and that works out just perfectly because who has time for a 17-ingredient punch? It's summer. The living is supposed to be easy, and the guests will be here any minute.

Pictured above is the Elder Berry Smash developed by London mixologist Charlotte Voisey for the New York City restaurant Kenmare, a Mediterranean restaurant with an Irish name. The super-sized cocktail was very easy to make and a big hit with the guests who long ago have stopped being polite about the way I experiment on them. They would have told me if they didn't like it, in no uncertain terms.

Elder Berry Smash

1 cup of blackberries

9 oz. St. Germain elderflower liqueur

Lime juice from 3 whole limes

8 oz. Champagne or a sparkling wine

6 sprigs of mint

Muddle blackberries in the bottom of a pitcher. Add St. Germain and lime juice, followed by crushed ice, leaving room for the champagne. Top with Champagne, garnish with mint sprigs. Stir just before pouring and serve in fluted glasses. Serves 6.

The other popular recipe was deemed the Farmer's Friend, but it was really a mojito with a surprise variation - rhubarb. While checking out at the supermarket, the cashier asked me what rhubarb tasted like: "is it like celery?" No. Most definitely not, I responded. People make pies out this - with a lot of sugar! I told her about my beverage plans, and she was enthused. With good reason. The drink was a success. I'd say that the party was split 50-50. Half of the imbibers liked the Smash, the other half liked the Farmer's Friend. All love a good muddle apparently.

The Farmer’s Friend

By Ron Levine, Anfora

2 handfuls of mint leaves, torn

2 cups rhubarb (about 4 stalks), sliced into 1/2-inch pieces

16 oz. white rum

8 oz. simple syrup

4 oz. fresh lime juice

Club soda (approximately 6 oz.)

Muddle mint leaves with rhubarb at the bottom of the pitcher. Add ice, and pour rum, simple syrup, and lime juice over mixture. Stir, and top with club soda. Pour in rocks glasses. Serves 8.

Container gardening is perfect gardening for cocktail hour. A plant here and there, a sip and a sit, and an admiring gaze toward all that hard work.

You don't want any operation of heavy equipment while mixing up pitchers of white sangria for your guests. This version calls for the addition of vodka, a good segue way toward "the Russian spy that lives next door" as a party conversation.

A Vodka Sangria, pictured below, from The Bar:

1 bottle of a dry white wine

6 oz. Vodka

3 oz. Grand Marnier

3 oz. pomegranate juice

3 oz. orange juice

2 oz. white grape juice

3 oz. lemon juice

2 oz. simple syrup

4 raspberries

Simply mix all liquid ingredients in a pitcher and garnish with raspberries and lemon wheels. Couldn't be any more effortless and that's perfect for a hot summer's happy hour. Happy Fourth!

Originally published on blogcritics.org

Happy Mardi Gras! Prends soin de toi!

It's Mardi Gras, a perfect time to take a look at some of New Orleans's contributions to the drinking life. The contributions have been many and mighty. For the sake of space and time — because we have some masquerading to do — let's look at three traditional drinks, all arising from iconic New Orleans establishments.

We'll begin with one of the most famous cocktails from New Orleans: the Hurricane, which now has unfortunate connotations to its name that run as deep as Lake Pontchartrain. The drink is basically a rum punch — a very strong rum punch. The legend goes something like this: whiskey was in scarce supply and rum was everywhere a New Orleanian could see. So drinks were created to take care of this terrible overabundance of rum. It must have been a pretty poor tasting rum. There is a lot of fruit juice involved with the Hurricane.

Pat O'Brien's, a touristy Bourbon Street bar, takes credit for creating the Hurricane but pushes its powdered mix to make it. Here is an alternative recipe from the Gumbo Pages.

The Hurricane

1.5 oz. light rum
1.5 oz. dark rum
1 oz. orange juice
1 oz. fresh lime juice (NOT Rose's or RealLime)
1/4 cup passion fruit juice, or 1 tablespoon passion fruit syrup
1 tsp. superfine sugar
1 tsp. grenadine
Cherries with stems and orange slices to garnish
Ice cubes

In a cocktail shaker, mix the rum, passion fruit juice or syrup, the other juices, and the sugar until the sugar is dissolved. Add the grenadine and stir to combine, then add ice and shake. Half-fill a hurricane glass with ice, then strain drink into glass; add ice to fill. Garnish with orange slice and cherries.

The Sazerac Cocktail is one of the oldest of all cocktails, sometimes mistakenly called the oldest. Developed by Antoine Peychaud, a Creole immigrant who ran a pharmacy on Royal Street in the French Quarter, the drink began as a brandy cocktail, named for a famous coffee house on Exchange Street in the 1850s. Eventually a star was born. Or at least a very good rye. Sazerac Company acquired Peychaud's Bitters and began marketing liquors. Rye became the base for the cocktail. Sazerac Rye became the go-to rye for the drink for which it's named.

The Sazerac has more rarefied ingredients than you find in the Hurricane. Some advance planning is needed. The following recipe is based upon Ted Haigh's excellent adventure: Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails.

The Sazerac

1 tsp. absinthe or pastis (Herbesaint, Pernod, or Ricard)
1 tsp. simple syrup (or more to taste)
3 to 4 dashes Peychaud's Bitters
3 oz. of rye whiskey or bourbon

Chill an old-fashioned glass. Coat the inside of the glass with the absinthe or pastis, leaving a slight puddle in the glass bottom. Add the simple syrup and the bitters. In a separate mixing glass, combine the whiskey and the simple syrup with ice and stir. Strain the contents of the mixing glass into the old-fashioned glass. Twist a strip of lemon peel over the surface of the drink and place in drink.

A couple of notes here on preparing to make this drink: you may find Peychaud's Bitters hard to come by. If it's not available in your local liquor store, you'll have better luck ordering it online.

Commercial distillation of absinthe was illegal up until 2007 due to its high alcohol level. It is becoming easier and easier to find; this your local liquor store may stock.

Finally, simple syrup. Easy for me to say, you say. But don't be afraid to do a little home cooking to prepare for your cocktail hour. It is as simple as it promises: one part sugar to one part water, shaken in a bottle until the sugar dissolves. Sealed and refrigerated, simple syrup will keep for up to six months.

Finally, and because we here in New York are expecting yet another snowfall, let's try a Milk Punch, a drink that that warms the heart. It's a cold weather drink that Brennan's on Royal Streetlays claim to inventing. Perfect for a snowfall, and perfect for beginning a Mardi Gras with a truly Fat Tuesday flair.

Brandy Milk Punch

2 oz. brandy or bourbon
1 cup whole milk
1 tsp. superfine sugar
3 ice cubes
Cracked ice
Nutmeg

In a cocktail shaker, combine the brandy, milk, and sugar with three ice cubes and shake until frothy, about one minute. Strain into a double-old fashioned glass with cracked ice. Sprinkle with nutmeg and serve.

It's a "clear the calendar, don't answer any email" kind of drink. But you weren't going to do anything anyway. It's Mardi Gras.

Giving Thanks for Irish Whiskey

I'll tell you one thing that Margo Channing wouldn't do. She wouldn't have wimped out on the Chatham Artillery Punch. Yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, was the day to haul out the Chatham Punch. The recipe, 175 years young, called for an additional bottle of champagne upon serving. I ended up adding a half-bottle. After all, the concotion was 50% alcohol already!

The consensus was that the punch smelled alcoholly but tasted a lot better than it smelled. Quite a resounding endorsement.

Working on a freelance gift guide, I had writer's block on the Scotch.

I'm not much of a Scotch drinker. I can't think of another beverage for which to be called medicinal is a good thing. I hesitate to go into an arena that encourages such fanaticism. You could drink the scotch with the longest, most unpronounceable name. Or you can drink Oban. It falls right in the middle between dry, peaty, smoky Scotch and the sweeter, milder sort. It comes from a tiny distillery in a tiny town so it's a little pricey, around $55 a bottle, but it's pronounceable.

As for the Irish, Jameson's is not a sipping whiskey no matter what any Irishman might tell you in Woodlawn. Powers is better (and cheaper), and Black Bush is better still. But I know from experience, that ordering a Black Bush at a bar leaves you open to all kinds of unwelcome ribaldry.

Uisce beatha - the water of life. Powers because who's having a Scotch coffee at the end of a big meal?

I Don't Want to Make Trouble; All I Want Is a Drink: A Thanksgiving Punch for Whole Family

Thanksgiving comes soon. Time to make cocktails for large amounts of people. So, over the river (Hudson) and through the woods (Harriman State Park), to the bourbon distillery we go. The Mini Cooper knows the way to carry.... I have no idea why the Mini knows the way to Tuthilltown Distillery. It must be that once-British, now-German engineering.

It is time to expand the vintage cocktail to include entertaining for many. The holidays approach quickly when sitting at the local bar. Some of you may be feeding an army this Thanksgiving. Here is a recipe that's guaranteed to fell that army — the Chatham Artillery Punch. But first, the bourbon.

We went to Gardiner, New York on a perfect autumn day to check out the first distillery in the state since the Prohibition, Tuthilltown Spirits. The four-year-old distillery has a retail store and a tasting room — something that I took full advantage of. For ten dollars, you get to taste three of their current whiskeys. On that particular day, they had Corn Whiskey, Baby Bourbon, 4-Grain Bourbon, Manhattan Rye, and New York Whiskey. The alcohol was offered in order of complexity, each one amazingly smooth.

Tuthilltown is causing lots of buzz on the spirits circuit. As Green Acres as it appeared on the outside, inside the store, a film crew was shooting a video -- an indication of the distillery's sophistication and popularity. However, our little field trip wasn't ignored in the media swirl. The lovely clerk was very attentive to us homespun blogger types.

I came away with the Corn Whiskey, which was delicious and deserves its own column in the future. I also bought the Baby Bourbon and the New York Whiskey for the hubby's bar. A note on the New York Whiskey: this is a sour mash, so named because of the process of distilling, adding an older mash to a newer batch. It ends with a sweeter product despite the name. The wonderfully enticing bottles are all hand-capped. Perfect for Christmas gifts, but I get ahead of myself.

Tuthilltown is a trip of about two hours north of New York City, and I can't recommend it enough. The corn fields, the oak barrels, the roaring brook next door: it is an idyllic experience and can be revisited with each taste at home.

Pulling the Punch

Please take the trip if you're in this area, but don't pour the Baby Bourbon into the punch bowl. The BB is an expensive sipping bourbon, aged for a year in an American Oak barrel. In general, for punches, I suggest moderately priced alcohol — not the bottom of the cask that causes those lovely hangovers the next morning, but something in the middle. Jim Beam is just fine for the bourbon. The same goes for all the alcohols. Everything in moderation.

The Chatham Punch is as vintage as vintage can get. It is approximately 175 years old, originating with the Chatham Artillery in Savannah, Georgia. The Savannah ladies served this punch at military functions. Historical drunkenness ensued. The original recipes serve two hundred. I've scaled it back to serve around twenty.

Start this recipe a few days ahead, even a week before serving!

Chatham Punch:

4 cups white rum
2 cups gin
2 cups bourbon
2 cups brandy
1 1/2 bottle sweet red wine
1 gallon strong cold tea
1 cup maraschino cherries, drained
1/4 pound pineapple chunks (fresh)
1 1/4 cup light brown sugar
Juice of 4 lemons
1 bottle dry champagne

First problem: Where to put all this alcohol?! I found this great 2 1/2-gallon glass jar in Target — perfect for making punches. It's called the Montana Jar, and it was a fantastic find. Who knew Target had stylish glassware for brewing lethally alcoholic beverages? Love Target.

Mix all the ingredients except champagne in a clean container with a lid, and store in a cool place. I used the refrigerator.

Some recipes say this punch is ready in twenty-four hours. Others say it is ready in one week. One even says it can sit in the fridge for two weeks. From personal experience, the punch was ready the next day, but it was better, had more flavor, with every day it sat. After one week, I plan on putting in the freezer. Feel free to contact me for the results!

When serving, use a large punch bowl with blocks of ice, rather than ice cubes. You can make ice blocks with Tupperware in your freezer. Use a bundt cake pan for a decorative block. Add the champagne, some lemon wheels, and serve.

Well done, I say to myself. I can see my career rising in the east like the sun.

Warning: this beverage is very potent. Use caution. Remember that driving drunk in1837 was different than driving drunk now. Then the horse really did know the way.