Old-Fashioned Slush

img_0263-1Proposed By: Jerry Beamer

Reviewed By: Jonathan and David

The cocktail proposal was supplied by our guest proposer Bourbon Jerry. More on him later but here is his recipe ( complete with his commentary) for the Old Fashioned Slush:

Ingredients:

2 cups of freshly-brewed strong black tea*(4 regular size tea bags does the trick)
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 (12-ounce) can frozen orange juice concentrate
1 (12-ounce) can frozen lemonade concentrate
6 cups water
2 cups bourbon**
7-Up, ginger ale, or any lemon-lime carbonated beverage, chilled

Garnishes:  Lemon rind curls, maraschino cherries

* Steep tea bags in 2 cups boiling water for 3 minutes.

** The amount you use depends on how strong you want your drink to be. I usually use 2 cups of bourbon whiskey and that should not be too strong for those sensitive to such things. Your drink will be as good as the bourbon you use, so use a good-quality bourbon, but don’t go crazy—Pappy rides alone.

In a large, freezer-safe container, mix together the tea, sugar, orange juice concentrate, lemonade concentrate, water, and whiskey. Place in freezer and freeze at least 6 hours. NOTE: The bourbon will keep the mixture from freezing solid.

When the bourbon mixture is frozen, you are all set!

When ready to serve, remove frozen mixture from the freezer and let stand for approximately 5 minutes.

To serve, scoop (an ice cream scoop works great) bourbon slush to fill a glass approximately 3/4 full. Top with lemon-lime beverage of your choice. Don’t stir, but let beverage mingle with the frozen tea before drinking.

img_0259-1Jonathan: My neighbor typically asks what the next drink will be, with every intent to be there to try it, and he was surprised we had a guest proposal. In fact his exact words were “how can there be a guest proposer on a brother blog?” I think I can explain that by describing Jerry and this Bourbon Jerry character that appears occasionally.

I met the Jerry that preexisted the bourbon version in 1979. He was my suite mate in college. My parents had unloaded me and my stuff and skedaddled for their calm empty nest. I was still orienting when Jerry, his family and his girlfriend’s family started moving him in. That girlfriend is now his wife of over 30 years and is also a Marshall by birth. Since we have assumed we are cousins, with absolutely no genealogical research, that makes Jerry my and David’s cousin-in-law. But there is more.

David met Jerry not too long after I did. A few years later David had moved to New York for grad school and thought nothing of inviting me, Jerry, our assumed cousin and another friend to visit for spring break. That trip included a few adventures with an odd plastic parachutist, visits to some off the path New York locations and some inventive housing that allowed all of us to. Ram into two tiny dorm rooms. David could easily call Jerry a cousin/friend too before it was all over. My memory isn’t much but I am pretty sure that trip was when David introduced Jerry to McSorley’s Old Ale House and another life-long acquaintance began.

Jerry has remained a steadfast friend since but in recent years has assumed the mantle of Bourbon Jerry. While the standard Jerry is calm, logical and even keeled, he is always up for an adventure small or large. Jerry can be counted on to travel on his own or to grab other friends and join any celebration.

A few years back that was a simple college football tailgate. Jerry joined up with another couple and came to Chapel Hill. Somewhere along the way he and the other fellow put a healthy dent in a bottle of whiskey (the third member of their group was a very responsible chaperone), enjoyed some more at the alumni center and then joined our group. I have to admit that despite their Inability to stop giggling like small children it was hard to tell how much they had imbibed. Gradually though, the spirit took over and a whole other Jerry appeared. From that point on, Bourbon Jerry has assumed his role as an alter ego making appearances here and there including at least one in Chicago I suspect.

The true Jerry is a gentleman and scholar. He has taken to the Bourbon Jerry role with a passion and study that includes research, group taste testing and seeking out hard-to-find bourbons. If it were legal, I am sure he would be mixing his own mash, distilling and aging

So what about this slush he proposed? The recipe shows it is intended for a group. In Jerry’s case it has become a go to holiday gift for friends. We tried it with a group at the beach and it hit all the right marks. It is very adaptable since you can adjust the liquor, make it sweeter or more bourbon-y by adjusting the amount of Sprite and as frozen as you choose. It turned out to be best described as the one bourbon drink that non whiskey drinkers liked. One good suggestion was to pour the mix into gallon ziplocs to make it easier to divide, freeze, unfreeze and enjoy.

img_1742David: Were Jerry a character in a Dickens novel, he would be a “hail fellow well met,” full of good cheer at every greeting, the friend you’d forgotten was so winning, so affable and warm. Jerry made it to Chicago a couple of years ago, and Jerry and Jean and Beth and I had a wonderful dinner complete with excellent cocktails.

Jerry, I remember, asked to substitute bourbon in his.

Jerry arrived with a photograph I’d forgotten from that trip to NYC, and a bunch of questions about the past, present, and future. Even though we did a lot of catching up, in many ways it was as if we’d never lost touch. That is the secret of Bourbon Jerry, I suppose—time seems immaterial, a mere nothing despite its steady passing.

Because we really have no friends, we halved his recipe and still had some left for about three weeks. I tried it every which way… with ginger ale and sprite and tonic. I liked the tonic best, as the drink is mighty sweet (almost like the orange concentrate it includes). Our frozen concoction really wasn’t that strong, however, and my most successful additive was to take the frozen mixture and… add more bourbon. This cocktail is quite reminiscent of an old-fashioned, and I figured Don Draper (and Bourbon Jerry) would approve.

And this drink opened my eyes to a whole new school of slushy possibilities someone might keep on store for reconstitution. I have experimenting to do.

Jonathan’s Take: everyone needs a cousin-in-law like Bourbon Jerry.

David’s Take: Sweet, but versatile… and lasting.

Next Time (Proposed By Jonathan):

We have used a number of lists of classic drinks to help with ideas. The latest one that I read was simply 10 drinks and the only one we have not tried is the Sidecar. I’m ready to go back to a classic and certainly have the cognac to use.

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Prickly Pear Margarita

Prickly.dbmProposed By: David

Reviewed By: Jonathan

This week’s cocktail isn’t our first margarita… but it’s certainly our most exotic one. Our brother Chris sent us each two mason jars of prickly pear syrup, which formed the basis for a frozen margarita using mezcal and, as a bonus, some food item using his gift.

Our brother Chris loves plants, especially fruiting plants and cacti. I’m pretty sure he joined The Cactus and Succulent Society before he hit his teenage years. Early this summer, when Chris posted a photo of a pitcher of syrup from his prickly pear fruit harvest, I asked him in a comment what it tasted like. His response, “Like prickly pear,” didn’t tell me much, but now that I’ve tried it myself, I see the sense in his answer. The syrup reminds me a little of raspberries (though not so tart) and a little like aloe (though not nearly so bitter) and watermelon (though not so watery) and somewhat like kiwi (though mostly in texture). Any attempt I’ve made to triangulate (quadrangulate?) its flavor, however, ends with the simple assertion that it tastes wonderful. And it’s mild, lending a distinctive flavor while playing well with all the citrus in a margarita.

My version of this week’s margarita was frozen, and though we don’t have much experience with that method of preparation, I’ve noticed the cooler a drink is, the more dramatic its trigeminal effects. As I don’t have a margarita machine, the ice remained mostly chunky, not the slushy you might expect from a trip to your local Mexican restaurant. The ultimate goal of any margarita is refreshment… though it’s nice if it’s potent too. I’ll leave for Jonathan’s review whether prickly pear syrup helps achieve those ends.

Here’s the recipe (for two servings):

1/2 cup crushed ice
1 ounces freshly-squeezed lime juice
1 ounce undiluted frozen limeade
2 ounces Mezcal
1 1/2 ounces Triple Sec
1 ounce Prickly Pear Cactus Juice
1 tablespoon granulated sugar or corn syrup
Lime wedges for garnish

In a blender, add crushed ice, lime juice, Tequila, Triple Sec, prickly pear juice, and sugar or corn syrup; cover and mix ingredients (a pulsating action with 4 or 5 jolts of the blender works the best). Correct with additional sugar or corn syrup if it is too tart. Serve in Margarita Glasses with coarse salt or Margarita Salt on the rims of the glasses and a lime slice, and serve immediately.

As for food, I left most of that to my daughter, who suggested we marinate some shrimp in a few simple spices (old bay, mustard and garlic powder, salt and pepper) then grill them on the barbeque. Along with the shrimp, she made corn cakes featuring corn cut from the cob and a mixture of salsa plus chipotle pepper with adobo sauce and a liberal amount of prickly pear syrup. The combination was spicy, smoky, and earthy—like mezcal—without being too sweet. A hearty hors d’oeuvre rather than main course, it seemed a great complement to the margarita.

I still have another jar of syrup remaining. I have many other plans for it—other cocktails among my schemes—and perhaps those will make some appearance in later posts. In the meantime, the only remaining thing to do is to thank my brother Chris for introducing me to such an intriguing and enticing ingredient.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

prickly.jbmA few years back I found a go-to recipe for grilled salmon. It is as simple as sprinkling the fish with chili powder, grilling it and then finishing it in the last few minutes with a glaze of 50/50 bourbon and honey. You can add a cedar plank to the grill surface to cook it on for a little je ne sais quoi, but that is just complicating delicious.

The first thought I had when our oldest brother said he was sending prickly pear syrup, even though I had never tried it, was that I needed to find a way to use it in a recipe. That turned into a modification of the go-to salmon recipe. We switched the fish to wild caught mahi-mahi, used blackening seasoning instead of chili powder and then added a coating of prickly pear syrup mixed with tequila for the last couple of minutes of grilling. It’s still peach world in our house, so we also made a peach salsa to cover the grilled fish.

And then there was the drink. David had suggested a prickly pear margarita with mezcal substituted for the tequila. The recipe called for prickly pear juice and sugar, but since we had a syrup the sugar seemed unnecessary. I used tequila for round one then switched to mezcal for the second. The recipe calls for half a cup of ice, which is hard to measure in cubes so I kept adding more to try and adjust for the limeade concentrate. That, and it is hot and humid, especially when grilling, so more ice seemed like a good idea.

The end result were two of the best margaritas I have ever tried. The tequila version was very lime forward between the fresh juice and the concentrate though the prickly pear toned that down a little. The mezcal version had the smoky deeper taste of that spirit and, for some reason, seemed more in keeping with the prickly pear. If I had to decide between the two, the mezcal version was more complex and balanced, so that would be the choice. One other thing to add—once you start adjusting and increasing the ice, one recipe is plenty for two drinks.

David’s Take: A wonderful variation that makes what’s become a rather cliché cocktail into something new and exciting again.

Jonathan’s take: Still got plenty of prickly pear syrup so I think pancakes are next.

Next Week (Proposed By Jonathan):

I rely on David to do all the hard work for the blog. When we started the idea was that he would give me the sign in and I would learn to use the WordPress site to do my part. Feigning stupidity, or actually being stupid, ended that idea, and now I just send him my part by e-mail and he completes the post. Since I don’t do the posting, I also rely on him for statistics like how many visits we get and even how many posts we have done. It should be close to or just above 100 (David’s Note: it’s 103) and my proposal for next week is that we do a wild card week to recognize that. Each of us will independently try a top 100 cocktail (there are lots of different lists to choose from) that we haven’t tried for this blog and likely have never tried. It will be a good test of genetics to see if we end up trying the same drink. It will also be a good test of memory to see if we try a drink that we haven’t written about before.

 

The Monkey Incident

Proposed By: Jonathanjbm.bananas

Reviewed By: David

First there is just a murmur. Something is going on but no one is talking, not even speculating. But then there’s more. A rumor and maybe even someone who knows another person who has heard. It’s very possible that something is awry and people are being misled. You can’t talk about it though because no one is sure. Finally it starts to break the surface.

There’s been a monkey incident.

This is a drink that invented itself from a reference that became a name. Like the tag that becomes the name of the band that plays intro to the lead in for the main act. I heard a reference to a monkey incident and thought it should be a drink, or at least an answer to a variety of questions:

“Yes officer, I was speeding but I got an urgent call. There’s been a monkey incident.”

“She could have been the one, but there was no way I could tell her about the monkey incident.”

“I had a drink. They made me wear the hat. And then next thing I knew there was a monkey incident.”

“The monkey incident? Yeah, that could’ve started it, but the elephant didn’t help things.”

“Everything was good. No, it was great. All of a sudden things went bad. That stupid monkey incident.”

When I proposed this drink, I didn’t have anything except the idea that it needed to be frozen and called “The Monkey Incident.” I won’t say I was flooded with ideas, but I quickly learned that anyone who honeymooned in the islands had some type of frozen monkey drink and remembers it to this day, And by remember, I simply mean they enjoyed the drink but have no earthly idea what was in it. But it did have “monkey” in the name.

The starting point was to learn what monkeys eat. Anything they are fed is the answer, but given the choice they are omnivores and bananas, at least the type people eat, are not the first choice. Fruit, vegetables, nuts, insects and even (gasp) other monkeys can be part of their diet. There was no way I was making a drink with actual monkey, so the base had to be rum (the tropical effect) and the cliché banana. A lot of drinks start with that and add fruit (so I am not sure if this original), but here is the final recipe:

1.5 ounces rum (I went with gold but white works)
.75 ounce banana liqueur
2 ounces fresh pineapple
2 ounces coconut water
2 ounces vanilla ice cream
2 dashes orange bitters
Ice

Mix everything in a blender or smoothie maker. Blend well and garnish with tiki supplies and fresh pineapple.

Here’s David’s Review:

monkeys2As often happens, my brother anticipated my next move. Recently my daughter and I engaged in a few thought experiments regarding how a mixologist might convert various desserts into cocktails. Then Jonathan revealed the Monkey Incident.

One of our brainstorms concerned Banana Foster, a New Orleans flambé of bananas, brandy, brown sugar, and orange zest topped by ice cream.

“What we’d need,” I said to my daughter, “is banana liqueur.”

Now I know exactly what banana liqueurs are out there.

This cocktail marks a departure for this blog in a number of ways. First, and most obviously, we’re usually working from recipes and this cocktail is new—though it relies on tried-and-true combinations of flavors. Second, we’ve generally relied on fruit to impart their taste, and this time we’re relying on the surrogate banana liquor. Third, it’s frozen… and creamy… and dessert-y. We haven’t done that before.

Though I wasn’t quite sure when to serve this drink—before dinner or well after or mid-afternoon?—I really enjoyed it. At one point Jonathan’s suggested we might cut the sweetness of the drink by including almond milk as well as ice cream, and that’s what I did. The banana liquor was quite a discovery. Generally speaking, I’m not a fan of banana flavoring (or any flavoring relying on chemical mimicry) but the version of banana liquor I chose—99 Bananas—not only evoked the fruit powerfully but also, at 99 proof, packed quite a punch.

The overall effect was an adult milkshake, substantial and sweet but also potent and fun, a slice of vacation perfect for the dog-days of high summer. I’m not sure the Monkey Incident actually is a Bananas Foster equivalent—perhaps the pineapple changed it, made it seem closer, in some ways to a Piña Colada—but the rum (I used Black Seal) adds the same spicy element you find in Bananas Foster amid the confection.

In fact, if I could be so bold as to offer an amendment, I’d recommend going further with spice, perhaps topping this cocktail with a dash of cinnamon or ginger to enhance its complexity.

But that may be more polished than Jonathan wanted. I enjoyed this drink as is, its childlike—but not childish—combination of tropical flavors. I began thinking about Baked Alaska

Jonathan’s take: I need to apologize to David for making him buy banana liqueur. But there was that monkey incident…

David’s Take: Hard to know when to serve it (or what to serve it with) and certainly not an everyday sort of cocktail, but a great treat.

Next Week (Proposed by David):

Talking to a Chicago mixologist committed to easily accessible, local ingredients, I heard about some interesting sour alternatives to the absolutely-NOT Chicago citrus many cocktails rely upon, and that conversation led me into the world of Shrubs, vinegared syrups that add a sweet and tart element to drinks. Next week, I’m proposing a shrub cocktail. We’ll be following the formula of a specific recipe that requires bourbon. Other than the necessity of that spirit, however, the sort of shrub Jonathan and I concoct can be anything we think might add.