At least 20 years ago I was wanting a hot drink to serve when we went up to our local mountains for Thanksgiving, to a cabin we had rented for the weekend. I had enjoyed hot buttered rum, although it seemed like the butter floated on top (which I didn’t like since that got sipped first). I guess I found it “wanting.” So, as I was glancing through an issue of Bon Appetit (don’t know the date), this recipe popped up.

This is hot buttered rum, but it’s taken to a different dimension altogether. Maybe when I read the ingredient list in the recipe I was a bit dumbfounded that this would be anything like hot buttered rum. Mixing ice cream with brown and white sugar and butter? What is this? The picture shown (found at taste of home) is exactly what the “mix” looks like.

Well, what I’ll tell you is this mixture just WORKS. The mix can be made ahead and just refrigerated. And this keeps for absolutely months. Amazing, but true. Even without any alcohol in it, it’s just dandy for a long time. It would also make a lovely gift for friends, or to take to someone’s home if you’re celebrating there. According to the recipe, it originated at a Montana ski resort in Big Sky. You scoop some of this mixture into a mug and pour in some rum and hot water. Done. I may yet make it this year, but I don’t have a photo of it. However, I wanted to post it for the holidays, since it makes such a delicious Christmas seasonal beverage.

This drink is just scrumptious – soothing on a cold day, and particularly festive around the holidays. My only caveat is: It’s very filling, so don’t plan a heavy meal to follow. If you’d like a little toddy before dinner, this makes a lovely one. And I never add the whipped cream. It doesn’t need it.

If the mixture isn’t hot enough, warm the mug with the cream mixture and rum in the microwave briefly before adding the hot water.
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It isn’t very often than I have the occasion to make an alcohol-based punch. We’ve been having quite warm weather here in Southern California; warmer than usual for the season, anyway, so it sounded like a good plan to serve a refreshing drink before the brunch yesterday. I should have checked the weather forecast last week when I was planning – we’ve been having fog and quite cool temperatures the last 2 days. But oh well, I didn’t think anyone would really mind.

Going to my recipe trove, I had sorted through about 10 different punches that I thought appropriate, and this one just sounded right. But, I call it Pink Sangria, instead of the real title, White Zinfandel Sangria. It’s unfortunate that white zin has acquired this reputation for only appealing to little ladies at the book club, or sipping on the porch in the southern summer afternoon. I used to really enjoy white zin – Beringer usually – but my tastes changed about 25 years or so ago, and normally I find white zin too sweet. So, to counter that tendency (to me, anyway), I used Peach Pucker Schnapps in this punch, instead of the usual (sweeter) Peach Schnapps. It definitely has a pucker, but added a really nice depth to the drink. You might taste it before you decide whether you want added sugar, if you use the Peach Pucker Schnapps.

Maybe peaches are in season somewhere in the world, but they’re darned hard to find here. I did spy some at my local grocery store, but they looked terrible, so I decided to use just the lemons and oranges. You marinate the punch for awhile, so it imparts the cinnamon and citrus flavors. Have everything all chilled, then add the club soda at the last, along with ice and you have a really special-occasion drink. The photo above shows it in its marinating stage. I added the club soda just before serving. When I make this again, I’m not going to add as much club soda – it made the punch too thin to me. But use your own discretion on that.
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A couple of months back when my dear hubby was away on his sailing trip, I drove to Carlsbad (that’s a town about halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego on the Southern California coast) to spend the weekend with my friend, Linda. Our friendship goes way back – to about 1987, I’d guess. She used to work for the Los Angeles Times and called on the ad agency I co-owned. The ad agency was sold in 1995, I retired, but over all those years, Linda and I became friends and have been ever since. She’s even traveled with us to Italy and to France.We had two different small groups (all friends of ours) who rented a villa for a week – Villa Catola – in Tuscany. Then, in 2006 a slightly different group went to Provence and rented a fabulous Mas (farmhouse) near Aix-en-Provence. Great fun both times. (If anybody wants more info about either of our European rentals, email me separately.) Linda and I can talk for hours and hours about family, friends, food, cooking, restaurants, books. So, we never lack for conversation when we get together.

Last month, though, in Carlsbad, I requested we go to eat at George’s at the Cove in La Jolla. It’s Linda’s favorite restaurant. We arrived early and sat out on the terrace to enjoy the view. It was lovely. It was warm but not hot, and I wanted something refreshing rather than wine. Normally I’d order wine, but this day I ordered a mojito. They make a good one.

Mojito recipes abound on the internet. I’ve made it at home and ordered the drink in various restaurants, but now I’m enough of a connoisseur that I won’t order it if they use sweet/sour mix. I want real-live-lime and freshly picked mint plus simple syrup. Otherwise I order something else. I’ve even had some interesting variations a time or two.

The history of the mojito is very interesting [who would know?]. It dates back to the 1500’s in Havana when Sir Francis Drake, the pirate, could have devastated the island. He didn’t, but one of his subordinates, Richard Drake, invented this cocktail, called the Draque, Drak, or Drac. During his adventures to seize and conquer other Spanish ports, Drake introduced this concoction (of his own invention) to different Spanish citizens. The Draque, made originally by combining aguardiento (a forerunner of rum), sugar, lime and mint, was served with a wooden spoon and a cock’s tail handle. Mostly it was consumed for medicinal purpose [really, I ask, incredulously?]. In the 1800’s the drink was modified to include rum. The name Mojito comes from the African word mojo, which means to place a little spell.

It still is a rum based drink with lime juice, sugar, mint and some soda water. Mild. Lazy. Easy. Minty. And did I say refreshing? I found the coolest video on how to make a mojito at the Bacardi website. If you’ve never made one, go check this out. Here’s the direct link, and you have to enter your birthday to prove that you’re over 21 to continue (yea, right, from a website?). If that link doesn’t work go to the main Bacardi website to get to it. It’s even got some swinging music to go along with. As I write this it’s still morning, so it’s a tad too early to make a mojito right now, but maybe later today I’ll plunk-me-down on our patio and have a long, slow slurp and give myself a little spell. With my foot up, I know.
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It seems that alcoholic beverages of all varieties are very much in vogue again. And with variety like we’ve never seen. Everything from alcoholic smoothies, to the be-all, end-all Martini. My friend Linda T’s daughter Kris introduced me to this drink on Christmas Day, 2006, at her mother’s home in Carlsbad. We were en route to our daughter’s home in Poway to celebrate Christmas Day and dinner, and stopped for a brief visit. Kris was bartender for the day, and was offering two mixed drinks: one made with Pimm’s, or this one, a rum-based drink with fruit juices. I opted for the latter, and have enjoyed this concoction numerous times in the ensuing months. As long as you have the ingredients on hand – tangerines, limes, ginger ale, and mint, you’re in business. Normally I’m out of tangerines and limes, maybe even ginger ale, so I need to plan ahead. Currently we’re out of tangerine season here, so I’ve used orange juice, and particularly like the color when I’ve used blood oranges. I’ve used sugar-free ginger ale and added Splenda to sweeten the drink, with no appreciable change in flavor. It’s the fruit juices and mint that travel through, and the rum is subtle, as long as you don’t overdo it.

Kris got this from a little cookbook of drinks, Highballs High Heels – a Girl’s Guide to the Art of Cocktails (currently out of print). This is very refreshing drink and will make a really nice break in a warm, almost hot, sunny Southern California afternoon. The picture was taken in Linda’s kitchen a few weeks ago when I spent a very fun weekend with her in Carlsbad. She remembered that I had enjoyed the drink and provided the ingredients, so we both had one. What fun! Thanks, Linda. Thanks, Kris.
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I’ve been under-the-weather this weekend. I think it’s a flu bug? Not sure, but food doesn’t thrill me. I’ve had juice, but am just going to go make myself a pot of tea. So thought I’d tell a little story about my tea and teapots. Growing up, probably like most of you, the only time I drank tea was when I was sick and my mother would brew Lipton’s with a teabag and some milk and honey. Then once I was able to eat a little something my mother would lovingly make me some milk toast – a piece of toast, buttered and sprinkled very lightly with sugar, placed in a wide shallow bowl and topped with about 1 cup of hot milk.

Until I became an adult – even a middle-aged adult, I’d never had anything except Lipton’s. Then in 1981 we met the English couple Jimmy & Pam – the couple I talked about a couple of weeks ago on this blog – Pamela, the professional chef, and Jimmy, the retired RAF Wing Commander. When we met them, that momentous evening at the local pub in Ilminster, they insisted we had to come and stay with them for a couple of days. Now when was it you met someone and they invited you to come stay in their home? We were overwhelmed. We actually had plans to drive down into Devon for a couple of days, but agreed we’d come back through Somerset and stay for two nights.

So, a couple of days later, we arrived at their home at about 4 pm. It was cold, drizzly Fall weather, so when we took our suitcases inside, Pamela said come into the kitchen, where we sat down with them to have a spot of tea. We had some wonderful thick sliced wheat bread with peanut butter and tea. It was the tea that sort-of exploded in my mouth – wow, I thought, this is absolutely delicious. It was nothing whatsoever like Lipton’s. And even though I’d been to England before, I’d always drunk coffee, even though it wasn’t the national drink!

When Pamela showed us the guest room upstairs, she pointed out the tea tray that was sitting on the window sill, including a little, unique pitcher of milk (sealed with plastic wrap) on the tray. They lived in a very old house with thick walls, and the milk stayed very cold. If we woke up in the night, she said, we could brew some tea. I must say, it probably had never occurred to me to brew myself some tea in the middle of the night. But the next morning when we awoke, we did make a pot of tea right there in our bedroom. Most Britons buy electric kettles, like this, or this, to brew hot water. Nowadays you can buy them here in the U.S., but for many years the only place I ever saw them was in the British Isles. They range in price from $11 for plastic, to upwards of $100 for stainless steel, cordless models. And no, I don’t have one.
I was enchanted with the little cream pitcher (pictured here), which I bought on a subsequent trip to England because I just think it’s so darned CUTE!

The next day they took us on a whirlwind drive around Somerset, including Lyme Regis, and a British military air museum in a nearby village. But that visit set the stage for many more with them. We always stay two nights. One night Pamela cooked dinner and the other night we took them out. But it was on the second trip to Britain that I was, again, in love with Pamela’s tea. So the first morning there she decided to give me a “tea lesson.” She made her own blend – she explained about the differences between standard black teas, and the smokey teas that lend a real depth of flavor. She would never, ever, use a tea bag. (There is also green tea, but I don’t like green tea, so I won’t give you any info about that.) My recollection is that she mixed 2/3 regular teas (two different kinds) and the other third a smokey tea. After we returned from that trip Pamela mailed us a package of different English teas, which I used to make my own blend.

But, she then proceeded to show me exactly how to make a PROPER pot of tea, and ever since that day, I’ve not wavered from this technique. Here’s what you need:
 
A teapot
A tea cozy (it’s a cover for the teapot)
Tea leaves (loose only)
A strainer, or tea ball to put inside the pot
A small pitcher of milk, warmed
Sugar (or sweetener), if desired

For me, part of the fun of making tea is the presentation, so I have my favorite tea tray (which I couldn’t find this morning) given to me by my friend Darlene 24 years ago. Because I often bring the tea tray upstairs to my office, when I do have tea, it needs to be easy to handle. While the water is boiling I put everything I need onto the tea tray – the strainer, a pretty tea spoon, the pitcher of warmed milk, and my sugar bowl. You’ll notice that on my tea tray this morning I put my bright red sugar bowl – I collect those little sugar bags from our travels. I never take more than one or two at a place, but I still have a large collection of sugars from different places in the world, and in languages I don’t begin to understand, either. Pamela gave me that idea, and I thought it was a very fun one, so adopted it.

Making a Proper Pot of Tea
1. Bring the pot of water to a boil.
2. Pour about 1 cup of very hot water into the teapot, swirl it around, then pour it out. This is an important step to warm the teapot before you pour the real hot water into the pot. You want to start with a hot pot. Alternately, you can use the hottest tap water and allow the teapot to sit while the water is boiling, then pour it out.
3. Drop the tea leaves into the pot and pour the hot water over it. Put the lid on, then place on the tray with the tea cozy on top. If you don’t have a tea cozy, cover the teapot with a kitchen towel to keep the heat in.
4. Allow the tea to stew for a maximum of 5 minutes.
5. Pour out into mugs, through a strainer, then add milk or sugar. In Britain, you don’t use both – you either use milk OR sugar. But sometimes I do anyway. It depends on the type of tea I’m drinking. My favorite sweetener is honey, but usually I add Splenda.

Because of Pamela’s influence in my life with all-things-tea, I’ve acquired a number of teapots over the years. The red one is certainly the most colorful, but it makes about 6 cups. The one on the tea tray is probably my favorite because it makes just the right amount for me to have 2 cups of tea. I also have a very fancy, small teapot that belonged
to my grandmother. I love it for its beauty, but it doesn’t keep the tea very hot, so it’s relegated to the cupboard, I’m afraid.

A very special one, though, is Pamela’s teapot, the one she gave me when she and Jimmy were downsizing their big, old house and moving to one of the Cotswolds towns. She asked me if there was anything I’d like to have, and I requested a teapot. She chose this one, and I brought it home with me as a carry-on. Very carefully. It also makes a big pot of tea, though, so I don’t use it very often. And although I have a collection of fancy china tea cups, I never use them for myself because tea just doesn’t stay hot in them. I prefer mugs, always.

I’m including one other pot here – it’s actually a coffeepot – I bought it at a lovely tea shop in the Cotswolds one year. It’s Staffordshire china, and a press pot. I did use it regularly for several years after I bought it, and was very cautious because it’s quite fragile. Mostly I
make espresso (a latte, actually) now, and Dave makes a pot of coffee for himself in our big Cuisinart grind and brew machine.

So, to finish the story, I’ve become a connoisseur of tea, even though I don’t make it often – but for some years when I was working I’d wake up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep (now I know it was the Claritin-D keeping me awake), I’d get up, make myself a pot of tea and quietly watch tv or turn on my computer and play mindless solitaire games. One year, I think it was 2000, Cherrie and I took a 10-day “Tea Tour” to England. She and I both like Earl Grey – and 12 of us, all ladies, journeyed to Britain. We had afternoon tea 5 times in 10 days. By the 5th time we’d all had enough of the afternoon tea, but it was sure fun.

So, go ahead, why don’t you make yourself some tea too.

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First off, I don’t have a photo of this. Obviously I was enjoying the margaritas so much I forgot! Would you have ever tried beer margaritas? I know I wouldn’t have. But, last week my friend Cherrie and I attended a cooking class focusing on the food for Cinco de Mayo; the teacher is one of our favorites, Phillis Carey, who teaches at A Store for Cooks in Laguna Niguel, and at a couple of places in San Diego, where she lives. Rarely does Phillis demonstrate anything that Cherrie and I don’t like, but we shook our heads and made frownie faces as she was describing it and mixing it up. Cherrie doesn’t drink beer, either, but we both whispered that we’d take a sip. Just a little sip. Hah! We both drank the glasses down to the last drop. Not fast, mind you, but we enjoyed it. We both like margaritas, and the flavor is really very similar.

The initial taste of beer is okay with me. It’s the bitter aftertaste that I don’t like. Sometimes on a truly blistering hot, summer day I will drink beer if it’s offered. Otherwise I pass it up every time. But this – there is a little hint of that beer aftertaste, it’s not bothersome somehow. Since I’d never heard of this concoction, I did a little sleuthing on the internet, where I found other recipes for beer margaritas, although most of them included a big glug of vodka in the mixture. I think this is just fine the way it is, but you could add more tequila if you like it stronger. About the only instructions Phillis gave us was to not be tempted to use any fancy beer – you do not want the beer to overwhelm the limade concentrate and tequila. That’s why this works. Oh, and be sure to chill the tequila. You want to start with everything veddy, veddy, chilled.

Cherrie and I prepared a dinner last night of most of the food from this cooking class, and you’ll see the recipes here in coming days. So, stay tuned.

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