Liquor In The Tough Times: The Fortitude Martini

I’ve had a hard time writing about anything other than Donald Trump’s ascent as president-elect. Jeff “Too Racist To Be a Judge” Sessions as Attorney General. Steve “White Nationalists Call Me a White Nationalist” Bannon as Chief Strategy Advisor. Death Eaters in all these cabinet positions and not one of them with the relevant experience to actually hold said positions. Lordie Lou with a cherry on top, it’s all so bad. And I can’t look away. I’ve been donating money where I can (though I work three jobs and wife is still a law student, so it’s not much). I’ve been filling out petitions. Protesting where and when I can. Hell, my wife and I panic adopted a dog and named her Edith Windsor. But I have not yet written successfully, I don’t think, about anything other than this nightmare timeline we seem to have dropped into. I can’t even dream about anything else. Last night I even had a D&D-inspired dream wherein my gaming group physically battled a giant sea squid who was our real-life President-Elect Tom Riddle. I don’t know if we won or not, I woke myself up just as I cast chain lightning.

In short, it’s been really hard to write a liquor column. I’ve had to sit down and think about why this matters. Why should I still give you a recipe for December when I can barely get out of bed and do my three jobs? I can only assume you’re having the same difficulties. And then I thought back to the day Hillary conceded. A group of us, dissatisfied with a protest option that blamed the Democratic party for this country’s hate of women, gays and anyone who’s not white, gathered in my apartment to console each other and to make plans. Plans to attend other protests, plans to donate money, plans to take care of each other. My wife made them soup. I baked a cake. People brought wine and beer and whatever they could and we just sat at my dining room table and made sure we were okay as we planned the next phase of our life, a phase many of us hadn’t ever considered.

What I should have done that night is mixed a drink. Made a punch. Something. Something that both honored the great history of queers partying loud and proud through the bad times and that nodded to the way I feel about drinking as a queer person. Mixing drinks, tasting liquor: these are the ways I perform luxury in a society that tells me I must be my most marginalized self at all times, that tells me at all turns that I don’t deserve or will never have a little luxury. It’s certainly not the only way to do it; I’m not at all saying that, and there are plenty of sober queers who make their own way. But this is my way. The way I perform luxury and the way I give it to the people who enter my house, sit at my table. And because we’re about to have a Vice President who thinks that if you shock me enough, I’ll turn straight and that that’s the most desirable outcome, bring on the luxury. Bring on the dignity of the apartment cocktail party. I’ll be a classy, dandy, HAPPY queer. Bring on my community, coming through my doors, and as long as I have the resources to do it, I will serve them.

One of the things we talked about that night was which of us could successfully run for office. I think I write too much about vaginas on the internet to successfully mount a campaign, but I’ve DEFINITELY had a few drinks and pestered Carmen about it. For that is what I do when I have two glasses of wine as of late: I fill out the She Should Run form the same way people tipsy text their friends to tell them how much they’re loved. I love government. Like I love government a Leslie Knope amount. But I think the best I can do is support Emily’s List and light a fire in your belly. Have you thought about running for office? It’s okay if it’s not in the cards, but next time you have your queer collective over to make sure everyone has what they need before Tom Riddle’s inauguration, may this light the sort of fire you need. Whatever it may be.

The Fortitude Martini

Perfect for queers running for office, planning protests, getting their names changed and making sure their passport is up-to-date.

What you need:

3 oz. gin (I’m using The Botanist)

1 oz. dry vermouth

2 dashes hellfire bitters

salt and pepper to rim

one spicy pickle to garnish (I’m using habanera dill pickles sold by the wonderful Amish man at our farmers’ market, which I also like to eat out of the jar with a fork NO BIG DEAL)

a mixing glass or the bottom half of a shaker

a bar spoon

a Hawthorne strainer

a martini glass or similar

two small plates or saucers

You may be wondering why there isn’t a photo of me actually rimming the glass with salt and pepper! That is because I need two hands to do it. But this is an illustration of the angle I’m talking. And you can’t see it, but I’m using water and pickle juice. It’s on this plate. I promise.

First we’re going to start with the rim on the martini glass! Grab two saucers or salad plates or what have you. Fill one with water (and if you’re feeling adventurous, a dash of spicy pickle juice) and one with salt and a bit of pepper. Tilt the martini glass at a 45 degree-ish angle to the water, place the rim of the glass juuuussssst in that water and turn the glass gently to moisten the rim. Now tilt the glass the same way to the salt and pepper and repeat. You’ll see the glass pick up the salt and pepper on the outside of the rim only—that’s why we do it this way, instead of dunking the rim of the glass in liquid and then dunking it in salt. If you get salt on the inside of the glass, it’ll dissolve into the drink and throw the balance off. The nice part about this is it’s the first step—if you’re not happy with the rim, you can wash the glass, dry it, and begin again. Nothing is melting or getting warm or waiting for you. Take your time. Channel your anger into rimming a glass.

Once it’s ready, fill a mixing glass halfway with ice. Dump in the gin, the vermouth and the hellfire bitters. Give the martini a stir, trying not to bang the ice around. Try to insert your spoon between the ice and the glass and get a fast-but-quiet whirlwind going, much like the surge of women running for office in the next four years.

Oh who am I kidding, I hope our lady candidates are much louder than your mixing is going to be.

Strain your Fortitude Martini into your rimmed glass.

Spear a pickle slice with a toothpick and pop it on in there.

Rachel Maddow says to never eat the garnish, but we are hungry. Oh, we. Are. Hungry.

I leant my copy of Dykes To Watch Out For to one of my friends HI ELLIOT I hope you like it also I almost posted this photo upside down because I am ENJOYING THIS MARTINI while I insert photos I hope you do too the end

Liquor In The Autumn Evening: Spiked Mulled Cider for Two

As I’ve said one million times on this and every website, I just got married. I say this because I married a brilliant Ravenclaw genius who looks like a supermodel and I’m still in shock at my own good fortune, so Imma shout this shit from the rooftop. As the weather grows cold — actually, here in New York City, we pretty much skipped Fall and went straight to winter, so as the weather is instantly cold, I’m using a spiked mulled cider to warm us up and bask in my own incredulity. There are two of us, so this recipe is for two! Here’s hoping you use this for your own cozy dates this month. And I hope Fall didn’t skip where you live if it normally exists there!

What you’ll need:

Four cups of your most local apple cider
Half an orange
Five whole allspice berries
Eight cloves
A pinch of cardamom
Two cinnamon sticks
2 oz. bourbon per mug/glass (I’m using Bulleit)
Cloved orange slices for garnish

Slice up your orange rather thin. You’re not juicing this time, so you don’t have to cut long ways. Cut midway, the pretty way. Measure out your four cups of local apple cider and pour it into a medium-sized pot. Float those orange slices on top.

Add your spices and turn your stove on to medium-high heat, then put a lid on that pot. Bring the cider just to a boil, and then turn it down to simmer for ten minutes.

Grab your heat-proof beverage glasses. We use Irish Coffee glasses for most of our warm cocktails, but your fave coffee mugs will also do just fine. Pour 2 oz. of bourbon in each mug. You may be wondering why I don’t mull the cider with the bourbon in it — that’s to make sure the alcohol doesn’t boil off. Grab a ladle and pour the cider through a strainer over the bourbon. If you get lazy and pour from the pot like me, you will pour it all over the counter! Don’t do that! Use the ladle!

Garnish with the orange wedge that looks a little like a dinosaur and enjoy in your bathrobe with your favorite slippers on.

So what are you drinking in the cold weather?

Kathie Lee and Hoda Have Wasted Over 3200 Glasses of Wine on “The Today Show”

The Today Show’s fourth hour with Katie Lee and Hoda on NBC holds its place in American daytime television and my heart as the one show that prominently features alcohol (wine) on every episode. It’s a funny gag. People love it. Guests can’t believe it! “It’s really wine!” they say. Late night television hosts live for it, regularly roasting KLG and Hoda for their 10 am live television wine consumption.

On its face, it seems like these ladies just gotta have their vino! Except they don’t just gotta have their vino, because if you watch the show – which with as many smart, engaged minds as we have here on this site, it has to be all of you and certainly not just me – they never drink it. Their wine glasses sit to the right and left of them like two bookends, untouched for the entire show.

Then why did this tradition even start? Well, we have Chelsea Handler to thank. She appeared on the show in 2008 to promote her book Are You There Vodka? It’s Me Chelsea and brought vodka. The next day actress Brooke Shields appeared as a guest and asked where her cocktail was. Soon after that, actor Joel McHale brought Hennessy for them to drink on air.

It stuck. From the next day forward, Kathie Lee and Hoda would have a glass of wine in front of each of them for every show.

As I watched the other day I was reminded again of the waste. Two full 6 oz pours of white and red wine within arms reach and yet never touched. “Drink some,” I thought. They wouldn’t. Never meet your heroes indeed.

I wanted to find out just how much wine has been wasted over the years. I knew I had a reference point of 2008, but to ensure every drop was accounted for I needed the month and day that this started. Amazingly, a list of exact dates for guests of The Today Show’s forth hour with Katie Lee and Hoda doesn’t exist. I was, however, able to find a comment on a New York Times article dated July 14th, 2008 that stated they’d watched the show that morning and they didn’t appreciate Kathie Lee’s treatment of guest Joel McHale.

Now, the Nobel Committee will ignore this investigative journalism even though they’ll indulge a man who sounds like he’s a skeleton decoration on a door at Halloween, but the fact remains: July 15, 2008 is when this horse and pony show began.

That’s since been eight years and four months, so by an estimation of five shows a week, ten months out of the year, Today with Kathie Lee and Hoda has wasted over 3200 glasses of wine.

For some perspective, 3200 glasses of wine is:

1200 pounds, or 4.6 Dwayne “The Rock” Johnsons

$19,200 US dollars at a low-end restaurant, or 46 tickets to Hamilton

2.1 years of a scientifically proven life well lived

800 times you could have snuck into a concert with a Wine Bra

45 times more than the most hot dogs ever eaten in one sitting

560,000 grapes the Grape Fail Lady would have to get through

1 entire listen of “Work From Home” by Fifth Harmony if you lined them up and walked their length

1600 Carol watches if you consumed responsibly

How many more, Kathie Lee? Hoda? Answer me!!!!

Witch Hunt: Potions, Podcasts and Keeping Your Pet Off Your Altar

by Rory Midhani

if you’re like me, you’re probably a witch. You also probably love podcasts. You probably love Cecelia Kyoko even more. Even if .you just have one of those things in common with me, you should definitely check out Cecelia’s new witchy podcast Broke Bad Witch. In the first episode she introduces herself, talks about what magic means to her and then talks about tarot and astrology in a way that’s equally interesting, entertaining and personal. The AV club said that “No magic-related podcast is as personal and charming as Broke Bad Witch,” and it’s “the practical magic podcast every witch needs.” Terrific. I’ve been waiting for a great witchy podcast for a while, and this is so much more than I could’ve hoped for.

Over in the A+ inbox (if you’re not an A+ member and you can afford to be, you might want to join now; we’ve got some great content, including a breakdown of all of the Autostraddle staff members’ signs), one curious witch asked for some tips on how to keep your cat, or other familiar, off of your altar. Well, Titi Mey has some answers for you. Well, maybe I don’t really? I did a ton of research, and most people don’t really have good answers. They say either don’t keep your altar up when you’re not using it (pero like, what if it’s a shrine that needs to stay up?) or put it too high for your cats to reach it. Or put it in a closet or room where you can close the doors and not let your pets get to it. Some people suggested temporarily putting double sided tape or aluminum foil around your altar so your cat will jump on it, feel a texture they don’t like, and not want to jump up again, you can try that?

Also make sure to go check out Satellite of Love, the Queer Horoscope column by Corina, which once again, called me out to a ridiculous level this month, and Fool’s Journey, our Tarot column done by the absolutely terrific Beth. I don’t know what else to say, both of these columns are really really great.

Words With Witches

by Rachel

haunt (verb) – to frequent a place; to appear or materialize in; to be “persistently and disturbingly present” in a locale or in the mind. From the Old French “hanter, ” which was “”to frequent, visit regularly; have to do with, be familiar with; indulge in, cultivate;” may be related to the Old Norse “heimta,” or “bring home.” Etymology dictionaries say:

Use in reference to a spirit or ghost returning to the house where it had lived perhaps was in Proto-Germanic, but if so it was lost or buried; revived by Shakespeare’s plays, it is first recorded 1590 in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Old French had a noun derivative, hantise “obsession, obsessive fear”

haunt (noun) – a place that is frequented, or in Middle English, a habit or custom. The use of “haunt” to refer to a ghost or entity that haunts (v), usage is “first recorded 1843, originally in stereotypical African-American vernacular.”

Magic Potion of the Month: Our Halloween Debut

by Raquel

Hello! This is the first installment of a regular series in which I will give you cocktail recipes, imbued with witchy elements to help you take charge, wind down, or get down with your upcoming month—whatever’s your style, doll.

A little bit about my drink-making philosophy; I will create and test out all of these cocktails, but I believe in experimentation, adjustment, and what-the-hell winging it. If you’re like me, take every instruction as a suggestion. Add more or less alcohol to taste (I tend to like things strong). And please—let me know if you’ve improved upon what I’ve given you!

For this, the witchiest of months (unless you, like me, consider that to be November, birth month of most scorpios and beginning month of All Saints day, but anyway), I give you: The Corpse (Lesbian) Bride cocktail. Drink with abandon, and enjoy.

Sage leaves

The Corpse (Lesbian) Bride

Ingredients, for the no-nonsense:

• 1 oz of Gin (If you’re fancy, use Jenever)
• ¾ oz Lillet
• ¼ oz Herbsaint
• 3 sage leaves
• ½ cup honey
• 2 lemons
• ice
• your choice of bitters (if you’re into that — I recommend something based in citrus, like orange peel or grapefruit)

Instructions:

Juice the lemons, then mix with the honey and equal parts water. Simmer in a small saucepan until the honey dissolves. Let cool and write someone you love, but haven’t talked to in a while, a note.

Put all the ingredients into a shaker with some ice and shimmy it up. If you don’t have a shaker, throw it all in a large glass and go to town with a spoon or something, then strain into the glass. Throw in a few spritzes of the bitters if that’s your thing.

Serve in long, tall glasses, straight up (with no ice). I recommend chilling your glass in the freezer while you’re mixing up the cocktail.

If you feel the pull, save an extra sage leaf and just slightly burn the edges. Let it become fragrant as you close your eyes and say thanks for the safe spaces and good people in your life. Imagine the smoke is the slightest, yet strongest scrim against the ugly forces at work against you. Rub the leaf between your thumb and your forefinger and drop it into the drink with a thought of good will towards whomever is going to drink it (even — or maybe especially — if it’s you).

You can also serve with a twist.

My Favorite Witch

by KaeLyn

Yes, everyone knows Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft, ghosts, magic, crossroads, and necromancy. She’s kind of a big deal in any context. However, the Hecate I love is the character in Sleep No More (SNM), an immersive performance by the UK-based company Punchdrunk, occupying 100,000 square feet of an old warehouse/club in Chelsea. SNM is a stylistic, dark, gorgeous retelling of Macbeth, set in 1939 and mashed up with film noir and bits and pieces of Hitchcock (particularly Rebecca).

Hecate shows up in Act 3, Scene 5 of Macbeth to demand of the three witches, the weird sisters, why they haven’t included her in their meetings with Macbeth and to deliver a prophecy about Macbeth’s downfall. In SNM, Hecate is the queen bee, the high witch, the top fucking dog. She leads and controls the three witches (Cast as Boy Witch, Bald Witch, and Sexy Witch in SNM). Between the three witches, her familiar, and other characters who are in Hecate’s service, some posture that she controls the whole damn hotel/show, including the audience, sometimes including me.

Hecate is my favorite witch because she’s a true Scorpio and I love me a Scorpio. Driven by lost love or just by a fiery unforgiving heart, she moves the other characters in the show around like puppets, spins them like tops, manipulates them, torments them, makes them torment others, always culminating in the death of Macbeth by the end of the show. As she proclaims in the original play, Macbeth’s illusion of safety will be his downfall (“And you all know, security/Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.”). Every night in SNM, Hecate ensures it is so.

I like Hecate because she’s a bad bitch. She’s a power femme. She has tender moments, but I’m never sure if they’re real or if she’s just manipulating me into thinking so. While the other witches (Boy Witch and Sexy Witch, particularly) have moments of doubt and weakness, she is always unapologetic and driven by her obsession. She rules from her corner of the hotel, shut into her boudoir for most of the show, sending others (including audience members) to do her bidding. I mean, she collects human tears and makes you drink them! There is nothing redeeming about her actions. She’s not a nice witch.

Still, you find yourself drawn to Hecate, to the haunting blue light around her. Different actors play her in slightly different ways, but she is always arresting, the woman in the red dress, giving off an aura of sex and danger, invoking desire and respect. She’s terrifying and thrilling, which is exactly the kind of the woman I want to be (or the woman I want to date – I’m not sure which is more true).

Practice of The Month

One of my favorite witchy “practices” is the giving of crystals as gifts. I like to carry around more than a dozen crystals of different types with me in my purse at any given moment. Partially this is so that I have them for their various magical uses and energies, but also a big part of it is so that if I’m feeling called to give one to a friend, I can do that. Or if a friend comes to me and needs some magical help, I have something that I can give them other than advice (which is also very good and helpful).

Sometimes it’ll be a friend’s birthday and you want to show them how much you love them, sometimes a friend will need to block or counteract a hex, sometimes a friend will just be feeling down and need a pickup. Crystals are great for that kind of stuff. They’re small, they’re affordable at the right stores and they pack a super huge magical punch. While it might be hard to carry a bunch of candles in your purse or a bunch of potions on an airplane, you can take a bag full of twenty or so crystals with you wherever you go.

Liquor in the Campari AGAIN: A Boulevardier As The Weather Cools

I’m wearing my slippers and yesterday our heater came on. IT IS TIME, Y’ALL. Fall is my favorite season, but alas, the heater isn’t on today. Fall is still sputtering on like a half-burnt lightbulb. So it’s not hot cocktail time yet (I’m hoping it’ll finally be time next month).

I’ve returned to my love of Campari, specifically to a cocktail that I don’t think gets nearly enough love: the Boulevardier. I looked up some history of the Boulevardier and apparently it actually predates the Negroni by a good twenty years, so calling it a Negroni with bourbon in place of gin is false. The ratio is also off — it’s not equal parts. But it is equally delicious. Here’s how you make it.

What you need:

1.5 oz bourbon

1 oz Campari

1 oz sweet vermouth

a lemon to garnish

A note on the garnish first, actually — there are several totally valid ways to garnish a Boulevardier. Lemon, orange and cherry are all good choices. I like lemon because it gives you just a hint of zing, and because finding the right cherries (my real fave) is hard sometimes. I don’t just get any ole cherries.

You might also notice a new accessory I’m using — my fiancée got me vintage cocktail sabres a couple months back because I loved the ones that Stef shared with us way back in 2014. I put them away and my last few cocktails wouldn’t have called for them. But this one, this one can! Return of ga-ARRRR-nish!

I suggest preparing the garnish first, actually, because it’s the most time-consuming step in this very easy drink. Slice your lemon ’round the middle and cut a coin out. Then cut the coin into four quarters and spear them on the sword. This lets SOME of the delicious lemon juice run into your cocktail, but not enough that it dominates. Balance is key, and using something as a wash or garnish is one way to achieve that balance.

Anyhow, once you’ve got your garnish ready to go, ice your glass. Now some might say to build this drink in a mixing glass and strain it so your ice doesn’t water it down. But that’s now how I usually make it for some reason, even though that’s probably the more technically correct way. I just build it in a glass with the ice in it — so throw your bourbon, Campari and sweet vermouth all in there. It makes this three-ingredient wonder even easier to throw together for unexpected company or much-needed relaxation time.

Give it a stir and add your garnish. Then parade it around your house to photograph it. Oh wait, no, that’s just me.

Another thing of note — a Boulevardier is a good cocktail to barrel age, and the holidays are coming up. This is true because the bourbon really picks up the oak flavor if you’re using a kit with a stave or a small barrel, and the sharpness of the Campari really calms down and melds with the rest of the ingredients. Definitely recommend giving it a try.

Liquor In The Expectations: This Is What a Daiquiri Looks Like

Okay, I know, I know, it’s September. But global climate change has all but ensured that we will have the hottest September on record. Aside from actively changing everything about our personal lifestyles and the way we conceptualize food systems and cities and industry (all of which we should absolutely do), the only other thing to do is drink daiquiris. Daiquiris? Yes! I don’t think that word means what you think it means. Most people, when I say daiquiri, are going to picture the following cruise ship monstrosity:

I say nay. Nay to that. It is a drink, but it is not a daiquiri. First off, a daiquiri need not be frozen. It’s like a margarita that way — sometimes they’re frozen, sometimes they’re not. But it also need not be this complicated, nor is it basically a dessert. A daiquiri in its purest, simplest form out in the wild has only three ingredients: white rum, fresh lime juice and simple syrup. And it utilizes my favorite, easy-to-remember ratio (1.5:1:0.5) Here’s how you make it.

Jeeves halped me research.

Make your simple syrup — equal parts sugar and water. I’m doing 1/2 cup water, 1/2 cup sugar because I don’t need more than half a cup of simple syrup at a time. Put the sugar and water in a medium saucepan and bring the mixture to a boil. Stir until all the sugar has dissolved, then take the pan off the heat and let it cool. I keep simple syrup in a jam jar in the fridge for surprise visitors that require surprise daiquiris.

Bertie is halping.

Chill your glass using ice before you begin. I’m using a martini glass, but a coup would also do really nicely.

Fill your shaker half with ice. Dump 1.5 oz of white rum in there. I’m using Brugal.

Cut limes lengthwise!

Juice one lime if you’re mixing just one — you might need more if you’re mixing for a group. Remember to cut the lime lengthwise to get the most juice possible out of it. Add 1 oz lime juice.

Time to get that simple syrup back out. Add 0.5 oz of simple syrup to your shaker. Shake until it’s good and cold — that’ll be in the realm of 20 or 30 seconds. Remember, whenever you shake, make sure no one and nothing that you love is behind you. Shit happens.

Dump the ice out of the martini glass and strain the daiquiri in. Grab another lime and cut a coin to garnish. Enjoy while making a plan to solve climate change.

That’s a card from my sister next to my daiquiri!

Liquor In The Honey: De Rigueur

I feel like 2016 is the year of the grapefruit for me. I just keep making you grapefruity things. My fiancée hates this — she doesn’t care for grapefruit at all. But she’s in Chicago for a whole month and I’m sad about it, so I’m trying to look on the bright side. I can make all the grapefruit cocktails I want in the next month, and not have to make something extra or different. It’s a meager consolation prize, but I’ll take what I can get.

The De Rigueur is a simple drink consisting of bourbon, grapefruit juice and honey. It also uses one of my favorite drink ratios — 1.5 oz. of the main liquor, 1 oz. of another sort of flavoring (could be liquor, could be fruit juice, the sky’s the limit!), and 0.5 oz sweetener. You can put that ratio in your pocket and just apply it to any combination of liquid that sounds good. But I want to spend a little time talking about the most tricksome ingredient on our current list: honey.

We’ve made drinks with honey before, and it’s notoriously difficult to work with. First off, it’s sticky and hard to measure. Second, it doesn’t dissolve into cold liquid, which means you wind up adding more honey than you need in hopes that enough of the flavor transfers when you shake shake shake it up. But on this day, I say no more! I say we figure out a better way to use honey in cocktails. Enter honey syrup—made almost the same exact way simple syrup is made, and for the same reason. Sugar doesn’t dissolve easily in cold liquid either. So what do we do? Dissolve it in simmering water first. Simple syrup is made using a one-to-one ratio of sugar to water, and by most accounts honey syrup is made using a one-to-one ratio of honey to water. But I decided to go with a two-to-one ratio. Two parts honey, one part water. My exact measurements were 0.5 cups honey and 0.25 cups water. Simmer until all the sugar dissolves. You can stick this sucker in a glass jar and store it in your fridge for up to two weeks, which means you’ll have the perfect excuse to make more than one of these. Here’s how.

Before You Begin

Make your honey syrup and give it some time to cool. Otherwise you’ll be like me, pouring it right from your saucepan into the jigger. And that’s hard and makes a mess. Do better—get it made and in a jar first.

You Will Need

• 1.5 oz. bourbon (I’m using Bulleit)
• 1 oz. fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
• 0.5 oz honey syrup
• a shaker and some ice
• a jigger for measuring
• a Hawthorne strainer
• a fine mesh strainer

If you’d like ice in your final drink, choose a glass (I’m using a tumbler) and ice it up, then set it aside. I’m choosing not to do this step because, as you might know by now, I prefer most drinks neat. That’s the beauty of making things yourself instead of asking a bartender to do it — you get to have it your way.

Next, fill your shaker halfway with ice. Pour the bourbon in, followed by the grapefruit juice and the honey syrup. DO YOU SEE HOW EASILY IT POURS? Gosh, honey syrup is my new favorite thing.

Shake it up until the outside of your shaker is cold. If your shaker is double-walled like mine, only the top of it will get cold. That’s fine and normal. Remember that shaking drinks isn’t just to mix things up or, in this case, emulsify the honey. It’s also what makes your drink cold.

Then if your grapefruit juice has pulp in it, as mine did because I jostled my juicer, you’re gonna wanna fine-strain it. That means using both a Hawthorne strainer AND pouring it through a fine mesh strainer. Double strained! No pulp! Garnish it with a grapefruit peel!

The finished product is a beautiful light-pink-amber drink that’s perfect for lounging about on roofs or balconies if you’re lucky enough to have such a space. I’m just over here in New York City, sipping on this cocktail and sweating in front of an AC unit in my tiny apartment. Somehow this drink makes me feel better about that? This is one of my favorite drinks and I highly recommend you try it out.

Cheers all!

Liquor In The Freezer: Bourbon Hellfire Fudgesicles

It’s actually really hard to freeze liquor — just ask the vodka bottle sitting in your freezer door. Alcohol has a lower freezing point than most home freezers allow for, which means you gotta get the alcohol content just right in a Froozen treat (froozen = boozy and frozen, I made it up). In the past, that has kept me far far away from freezing cocktails. But then two of my friends moved out of their apartment and had a bunch of us over to pinch the kitchen goodies they weren’t planning to take with them (like a reverse housewarming party). And at that party, I acquired this rad popsicle mold.

Then I was like, fuck it, I’m making a boozy popsicle. They aren’t enough to get you drunk (again, see “freezing alcohol is hard”), but they’re boozy enough to taste real nice. I riffed on this recipe, but added a twist. I like my food to bite back.

You will need:

• 1/2 cup sugar
• 3.5 oz bittersweet chocolate
• 2 tbs Dutch-processed cocoa powder
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 2 cups water
• 2 tbs bourbon (I’m using Bulleit)
• 2 eyedroppers full of Hellfire Bitters
• a medium saucepan
• a whisk
• a spouted Pyrex or equivalent
• something in which to freeze Froozen treats

Break up or chop up your chocolate. We’re gonna melt it, so smaller pieces are best. Combine all the ingredients except for the bourbon and the bitters in your medium sauce pan.

Add two cups of water and bring it to a boil over medium, whisking THE WHOLE ENTIRE TIME. Seriously, don’t stop whisking or things will stick to your pot and the chocolate will taste weird. This didn’t take me more than four or so minutes, so it’s not really a commitment.

Look at how clean my stove is, you guys.

Transfer it to your spouted pyrex and let it cool at room temperature for about half an hour or so. I took this opportunity to fold my laundry. Once it’s cooled, stir in your bourbon and your bitters, keeping in mind that bitters are also alcohol, so this increases the meltiness of the popsicle. Meltiness is the technical term.

Pour into your popsicle molds. If you’re fortunate enough to have the kind I have that take care of the stick part, just pour into the molds and freeze them overnight. If you’re using a mold where you have to insert sticks, freeze them for like three hours and then pop the stick in. Then freeze them overnight.

Alternatively, if you don’t want to fuck with popsicle molds, you could use silicone cupcake molds like these:

These produce Froozen Puddings that you can eat out of a bowl with a spoon. This is also a good alternative if you’re a messy popsicle eater and would prefer your clothing and furniture to remain chocolate-free or if you want a smaller portion size.

The following day, break your popsicle free and enjoy. If you’re having trouble releasing it from the mold, just run the mold under lukewarm water and try again. The result is a chocolatey, bourbony taste with a bit of spice on the finish.

A word to the wise: because I added those bitters, these Froozen treats are meltier than average. About halfway through, you’ll have to eat it over the sink or outdoors or else suffer the stain consequences.

Ways to riff on this: replace the Hellfire Bitters with Mole Bitters, vanilla, or maple syrup.

24 LaCroixtails to Keep You Hydrated and Tipsy

LaCroix. Made in Wisconsin and admired by Midwestern housewives and hip queer women everywhere. Maybe you are both? This is your time to shine, you hip Midwestern queer mama!! It’s fizzy, it comes in over 20 flavors, and it’s basically water! You can get it at your local Whole Foods, and they’re the perfect size to stock in a tote bag or backpack for a long day ahead. Honestly, after a long day in the office, talking to Barb about her weird foot thing and Bill from accounting about his kid’s tee-ball team, nothing is better than cracking open a can, hearing that satisfying fizz, and taking that first big gulp. The people have spoken and they’re saying that they want their water bubbly, readily available, canned, and in 20 flavors! Not only do the people want LaCroix, they want it mixed with booze. They call them: LaCroixtails. Did you ever think your water could do so much?! I didn’t, but frankly, I’m so glad to live in a world where it can.

I’ve scoured the depths of Pinterest to find you some refreshing LaCroixtails to remind you “LaCroixs before Bois” this summer. Grab your gal pals, grab a back porch, grab some booze, and get to drinking! Lastly, many of these cocktails are named things like “lite,” “skinny,” or “slender.” I highly encourage you to ignore those titles and live your best life at whatever size you feel like! LaCroix is for the people and by the people! No sizeism allowed here!

Red Wine Berry Spritzer

Coconut Mojito

Skinny Sparkling Blueberry Mojito

Blackberry Fizz

The Apricot Blossom

Skinny White Wine Spritzer

Sparkling Sundown

Cherry Lime Sparkle Cocktail

Slender Rosemary Grapefruit Fizz

The Razzy

Skinny Piña Colada

Apricot Bellini

Summer Spicy Paloma

The St. Peach-Pear

Kiwi Watermelon Cocktail, Blackberry Cucumber Refresher, and Cantaloupe Ginger Beer Cocktail

Cucumber Refresher Mocktail

The Faux Driver

Peach-Apricot Lillet Blanc Fizz with Cardamom Sugar

La Corixzy

La Piña

Strawberry Lime Rosé Sangria

Coco Plum Fizz

Liquor On The Mountain: Whiskey Women

It’s that time of the year again: the time where Alex Vega picks a bunch of whiskey and we host an all queerdo whiskey tasting on this here A-Camp mountain. It’s also that time of year when I encourage you all to join us at home—grab a handful of queerdo friends and go in on some whiskey together. Get a bunch of glencairn glasses and, as a group, taste and make notes and talk and laugh. Even if you’re historically not a whiskey person, there’s something for everyone to take note of. Getting together and doing this means you can pool your money on more expensive whiskeys than you might be able to alone, and it also fosters a community of queerdos. Plus hosting cool get-togethers in your living room is awesome and this historically boys’ club hobby is then reclaimed for our bodies, which do deserve some luxurious treats once in a while!

Speaking of historically, this year’s tasting is based off the book Whiskey Women: The Untold Story of How Women Saved Bourbon, Scotch and Irish Whiskey. Alas, the book itself is written by a man, but this well-informed gent is giving credit where credit is due. All the whiskeys we’re tasting this year are either currently piloted by women or have been sometime in the past. Also unlike years past, they’re all big enough brands that everyone should be able to follow along at home.

Bushmills 16-Year

via Waterfront Whisky

Though Bushmills predates its registration in 1784, that’s when it became official-official. The distillery was registered by a man named Hugh Anderson, but in 1865, Ellen Jane took over ownership. Though the Master Distiller is currently a dude, back in 2010 it was Helen Mulholland. In fact, at the time Whiskey Women was published, it was the only company with an all-women tasting panel, so we can say with confidence they’ve got a long-standing tradition of women in upper positions. Plus if you wanna get literary, Bushmills is mentioned in Ulysses.

Cardhu Single Malt

via Aries

Cardhu has a history of being saved and run by women, even if there were men’s names presented as at the helm. Though technically history says John Cumming’s name was on the convictions for distilling without a license and, later, on the license itself, local and family lore says it was all his wife’s doing. So thank you, Helen Cumming, for breaking a lot of rules. The distillery passed to her son, Lewis, and later her daughter in law, Elizabeth. She’s the one who sold the distillery to John Walker in 1893 (yep, that’s Johnnie Walker). Though 70% of Cardu’s whiskey goes into the Johnnie Walker blended whiskeys of today, the distillery still operates under its original name and 30% is put out as Cardhu single malt. I cannot WAIT to try this one.

Laphroaig Cairdeas

via The Malt Desk

According to Alex Vega, the mastermind behind our whiskey selections, “Bessie Williamson, known as the First Lady of Scotch, was hired at Laphroaig as a secretary in 1934 and inherited the distillery from the previous owner in 1954. She had a knack for marketing and anticipated the coming trend (and taste) for single malt scotches and to position the Laphroaig product, and by extension other Islay malts, to the American market. (Previously, Laphroaig had been a blended Scotch.) The Scotch Whisky Association named Williamson as its American spokesperson from 1961 to 1964.” The Cairdeas is a special edition single malt crafted each year to celebrate friendship (cairdeas in gaelic). This makes it perfect to taste with your queer squad, and probably I will cry when we taste this on the mountain, because friendship to the max.

Brenne Ten

via Uncrate

Brenne Whisky, owned by Alison Patel, has been an Autostraddle favorite since they sponsored one of our whiskey tastings a couple years ago. It was a favorite on that day—so many Straddlers went back into the world and asked their local purveyors of spirits to carry Brenne whiskey. Not only is Patel pretty cool (she blogs at The Whisky Woman) but Brenne is DELICIOUS—approachable enough for even the newest whisky enthusiast, and unique enough for a more experienced taster. It really is for everyone. Well back in September, Patel announced the launching of Brenne Ten, a ten year version of our old favorite. So naturally we’ve gotta try it.

Maker’s 46

via Maker’s

Maker’s Mark was started by Marge Samuels and her husband in the 1950s. Marge was the developer and designer of the red wax-dipped bottle we all know and love today. Marge was also responsible for getting the distillery recognized as an official historic landmark in 1980, the first distillery to be labeled as such. We’ll be tasting Maker’s 46, which is aged a bit longer than standard in barrels containing French oak staves.

Liquor In the Highball: The Americano

Last month I urged you to try a Negroni, even if it was an acquired taste. How did that go, by the way? I genuinely want to know, so please tell me. But in the meantime, I want to continue our collective Campari education with another bitter drink, one that’s quite similar to the Negroni but way less strong and way more refreshing: The Americano.

The Americano was first served at Gaspare Campari’s bar in Turin, called Caffe Camparino, in the 1860s. And it wasn’t called the Americano at all, but rather the Milan-Torino, because the Campari came from Milan and and the Sweet Vermouth came from Turin. Then prohibition came around, and American tourists and expats REALLY wanted a damn drink. So legend has it they all bellied up to this bar and ordered Milan-Torinos like they were running out. Because of the noticeable spike in orders and the noticeable people who were ordering them, the drink came to be known as the Americano, after the parched prohibition-sufferers.

I think its history is part of the reason I’m so into having Americanos this month—I’ve just finished a very stressful, busy time in my life and I’m thirsty for a break, like the Americans were back then. Plus I wish I were lounging around a bar in Italy pretty badly. Plus plus I think this is the perfect cocktail to pair with Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan series, which are on my list this month (I’ve been told the men don’t matter AT ALL and I’m really psyched about it). Plus plus plus this drink, like the Negroni, is also really easy—only three ingredients, built in glass and easy to explain to bartenders when you order it out. Hopefully you’ve got a deck or a balcony or a bar with outdoor seating and a book and some queermos to hang out with, because this is that kind of drink. Let’s hop to it.

You will need:

+ A bunch of ice. A few of you have asked what mold I’m using for my ice spheres, and it’s this one.

+ Campari. If you made the Negroni last month, you probably still have some!

+ Sweet Vermouth.

+ Seltzer. NOT TONIC! I actually don’t know that I’ve said this here before, but those are two different things and I’ve seen someone confuse them in the last month so I figured I’d let you know. Not that this would be BAD with tonic, it would just be a different drink. I mean, if you WANT tonic you should follow your heart and all. Also, did you know seltzer and club soda aren’t exactly the same thing, either? The additives in club soda make it taste a bit saltier, which is not to my liking, so I usually go for seltzer.

+ A highball glass! When you’re topping drinks, it’s nice to have a tall skinny glass. Obviously it’s not required—this would do just as nicely in, say, a stemless red wine glass. But the glass should have enough volume to get topped with soda, which cuts out some of the shallower options (no Martini glass, for instance).

+ A bar spoon.

+ An orange to garnish.

I’m putting three of my ice spheres into the highball glass first—but if you’re using cubes, you’ll want to fill it pretty good. About five or six average sized ones.

Then, and this is the easiest bit, dump in 1.5 oz Campari and 1.5 oz Sweet Vermouth. Top it off with seltzer—it’ll be about 3 or 4 ounces of seltzer, but it’s one thing that I can’t be bothered to measure when I’m just making drinks for myself.

Using the bar spoon, stir the drink! What you want to do is slip the bar spoon between the ice and the glass and get a good stir on without clinking the ice too much. Just try to make a noiseless whirling vortex and see how you get on. It takes a bunch of practice; I’m still not the best at it.

Garnish with an orange coin and enjoy! Some people like this drink through a straw, so if you have straws (classy or silly), this may be an appropriate straw-use time.

Cheers all!

Liquor In The Grapefruits: A Very Easy Negroni

I legit can’t believe I’ve never featured a Negroni. I have NO IDEA how this happened—a Negroni is perhaps the easiest cocktail in the world to make—it’s three ingredients and can be built all in one glass. But taste-wise, it’s a really complex drink; even more complex if you use a nice, botanical gin. Perhaps it is for this reason that we’ve gotten this far into our collective relationship and I haven’t told y’all to make this: Negronis are really an acquired taste. Once I made one for my fiancée. She took a sip of it, said nope and handed it back to me. I can’t seem to convince her to give it multiple tries, which she should do because it’s actually perfect and she is wrong.

The reason it put her off right away, though, is because the dominant flavor in a Negroni isn’t the gin, but Campari: an Italian aperitif that, though the recipe’s been a closely guarded secret for more than 150 years so no one can say for certain, tastes very strongly of grapefruit. And grapefruit is pretty fucking bitter. It’s nicely balanced with a sweet vermouth, however, which makes this one of those perfect, not-too-sweet cocktails. Yum.

Negronis also make excellent orders at bars. Most places have the ingredients and it’s easy to explain to an inexperienced bartender how to make it, because it’s an equal-parts drink. Also you look like a classy fucker and most people forget this drink exists, so there’s the chance that whoever you’re with will be v. v. impressed with you. It’s a good go-to because they don’t really vary wildly in the same way that a Manhattan is different every place you go. So no matter what your initial reaction to the Negroni is, I urge you to give it a few more sips—make sure it hits all the parts of your mouth so you can suss out the complexities. You’ll be glad you did!

You will need:

• 1 oz. Gin (I’m using The Botanist)
• 1 oz. Campari
• 1 oz. Sweet Vermouth
• an orange for garnish
• a rocks glass
• ice
• mixing glass (optional)
• strainer (optional)

Put a bunch of ice in your glass—or if you prefer, use a big ole fancy ice cube. I’ve been pretty thrilled with my spherical ice. Seriously, I’ve been using it in my water glasses, too, and fancying-up my work day with both those and lime slices. But I digress, ice your glass. If you’re gonna build it all in one glass, no need to prepare a mixing glass. But if you’re going to use a fancy ice of some kind, I actually prefer to build it separately and strain it in. That way it gets nice and cold—stiring something with just one ice cube doesn’t really cut it.

Then simply measure each of the three liquors into the glass and give it a quick stir, being careful not to chip your ice up with your spoon. I like to use a bar spoon and put it in along side the ice. Then I make a nice whirlpool, trying not to clink the spoon against the side of the glass, but instead sliding the spoon quickly along the glass. Practice this, too—getting a good stir on is even more impressive than ordering a Negroni.

If you’re using a mixing glass, strain it into your tumbler. Otherwise, skip right to the part where you garnish it with an orange twist. Hell, you can even garnish it with a grapefruit twist if you’ve got a really excellent-looking pink one around because you are your own boss and you can do what you want. Sit back and enjoy.

Liquor In The Liquor: My Favorite Cocktail, The Sazerac

Today, I put on my favorite slippers. I made ice in our new ice ball molds. I decided I was going to make for you all my very favorite cocktail ever: The Sazerac. Now the Sazerac isn’t for the faint of heart, because really it is only liquor. And one of the key ingredients of the Sazerac is that green fairy, absinthe. If you’ve never tried absinthe, I’m here to tell you: it has an extremely strong and distinctive anise taste; that’s why it requires something called a rinse, where you swish absinthe around the glass and then toss it out. Any more absinthe than that, and it’ll be TOO MUCH ABSINTHE. It’s a super delicate balance and an extremely unique flavor profile. But don’t be scared! Many people who don’t care for a Sazerac on their first sip acquire the taste throughout their first Sazerac experience. That’s what I like about it, actually—it’s an incredibly complex taste that changes as it glides across your tongue. I’m just in love with it. Today is a day for favorites.

So why haven’t I shared the Sazerac with y’all before, being that it’s my very favorite drink? Well actually, I did make a Sazerac once for A-Camp, at the very first whiskey tasting Alex Vega and I ran together! And everyone almost had a heart attack when I spilled the absinthe into our waste bucket. Like, the whole damn room leaned forward and gasped. All I could say was, “trust me, you do not want that in there.” They agreed with me in the end; it would have been TOO MUCH ABSINTHE to leave it. But still, I wanted to wait until I had a specific piece of equipment to do an absinthe rinse sans waste to share the Sazerac with y’all on the wider internet. I do not want to be responsible for any at-home heart attacks, nor do I particularly care for waste.

Enter the atomizer. I talked about it on this website once—it’s the same exact thing you’d use to spray perfume. But instead, we’re going to load it with absinthe and spray absinthe along the inside of the glass. It’s a relatively inexpensive piece of equipment—cheapest I’ve seen is five dollars—and it’ll up your Sazerac game 100%. Trouble is, I have a memory like a whiffle ball and just kept…forgetting. At no point would it have been a hardship to get it, I’m just an out-of-sight-out-of-mind person. But I’m bartending for a cocktail party my fiancée is throwing, and she thinks a friend of hers would love my Sazerac. So today, literally on the day I am writing this, an atomizer showed up at my door because my fiancée has a much better memory than I do. It was a sign from the Bar Goddess. Besides, this’ll give you something besides green beer to drink this Saint Patrick’s Day (never drink green beer, please just don’t, you are better than this).

You will need:

3 oz. rye (I’m using Rittenhouse this go ’round.)

3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters

3 dashes Angostura bitters

1 demerara sugar cube

Absinthe (I’m using Un Émile, which is on the pepper-ier side of Absinthe’s I’ve tasted.)

A mixing glass (you’ll notice I’m using a jam jar, but I do not recommend this, as the bottom is not flat. Use something with a flat bottom, like the bottom half of your shaker.)

A muddler

A strainer

A bar spoon

Ice

And if you want to forego a garnish like I do (I like my Sazeracs without the traditional lemon peel), use visually interesting ice for the final product. I made ice balls for this, the occasion on which I share my favorite drink with you.

Begin by filling your atomizer with absinthe. If you are new to filling an atomizer like I am, this may prove to be difficult. Look at this tiny wee funnel they give you! I even used a slow-pour spout and I still managed to to spill about a quarter of a teaspoon of absinthe, which immediately left a ring on my table because absinthe is hardcore. We thought it’d stripped the finish! Seriously, my fiancée (who took all the photos for this, by the way) had to get the hair dryer out to fix the table (she fixed the table!). Maybe fill the atomizer on the counter or on a plate, is what I am saying. Learn from my mistakes.

Once it’s all filled and sitting pretty, put a sugar cube in a mixing glass. Add the six total dashes of bitters (half Peychaud’s, half Angostura). Muddle the sugar cube with the bitters—it’s gonna look like a paste when you’re through.

Now if you want your Sazerac a little sweeter, you can use a dash of simple syrup instead. Me, I like my Sazerac more along the lines of “sugar breathed on this.” That’s why I use a sugar cube.

Once you’re through muddling, fill your mixing glass with ice. Add three oz. of rye whiskey. Stir.

Take your final glass (I’m using a standard tumbler, here) and spray the bottom and sides with absinthe until it’s coated nicely, but not dripping and pooling in the bottom of the glass.

Add your visually interesting ice to the final glass and strain the Sazerac in. Enjoy responsibly.

And like I said, if you don’t care for your first sip, I urge you to give it a second, third and fourth sip. It’s complicated; you may change your mind.

So, what’s the cocktail you pull out your fancy ice and your favorite sippers for? Tell me all about everything in the comments!

Liquor In The Winter: The Abbey Longs for Springtime

Even though I’m practicing my koselig to be more okay with winter, that doesn’t mean I’m not counting down the days until I see green again. I’ve had my fill of warm drinks — what can I make that both reminds me of a warmer season, but doesn’t feel out of season? Enter The Abbey — except I’m going to make it with blood orange because a) that’s what I have in my kitchen and b) I like the color of blood oranges (makes me feel like I’m drinking liquid rubies or some shit).

The color makes it a perfect drink for Valentine’s Day, if you do Valentine’s Day (which my fiancée and I don’t, but you do you!). I’m riffing off the recipe found in The Architecture of the Cocktail, which is beautifully illustrated and easy to follow; same proportions, I’m just changing up the ingredients a little bit.

You will need:

1 1/2 oz. gin

3/4 oz. Lillet blanc

a blood orange for juicing 3/4 oz. fresh blood orange juice

a dash of orange bitters

a shaker — fruit juice always means a shaker!

strainer

plenty of ice

a martini glass

Chill your martini glass before you get going. Then fill your shaker halfway with ice. Juice your orange, slicing the citrus lengthwise in half. I don’t know why that produces more juice, it just seems to. Juice that orange!

Add the gin, Lillet, juice and bitters to your shaker. Shake that sucker over your shoulder (with no one and nothing behind you, please, in case you get overenthusiastic!) until the outside of the cap is frosty. Dump the ice out of the martini glass and strain The Abbey into it. Carefully slice a piece of the orange peel — no need to waste a whole orange for the garnish! Twist it into the glass and serve. Dream of warmer days.

Liquor in the Chocolate: Red Wine Hot Chocolate

I’m down in South Carolina on a farm with touchy internet to work on my novel. The Christmas tree is still up because we can’t quite believe what time of year it’s supposed to be and we need a reminder; we’ve been in the same heat spell as the rest of the east coast. This is not normal. For a few days I considered making boozey ice cream for this month’s Liquor in the _______, because what the fresh Hades is this shit supposed to be? The thought of doing some warm winter drink made me sweat. But finally, finally it’s starting to cool down. While it doesn’t quite feel like winter just yet, it is grey and raining and awful. Which means something seasonally appropriate to consume with our mouths!

You’d think I’d be excited about the weather because I hate winter, but no. I read some pop-science article somewhere on why Norwegians seem to suffer from seasonal depression less than, say, Americans. It all comes down to the concept of koselig, says the article. Coziness. Lighting candles, wearing slippers and drinking hot chocolate. Naturally, I researched that elusive concept of koselig and decided that this winter, I could drink hot chocolate pretty much whenever. It’s been working like a charm; I’ve been enjoying winter. When no less than three people in my Facebook feed posted this video this week:

…I reacted thusly:

I’ve put rum in hot chocolate. I’ve mulled red wine (twice). But I have never considered putting red wine in hot chocolate, and I (with my non-Norwegian perspective) consider both red wine and hot chocolate to be cozy-making. It’s really gross here. I have a dog at my feet. I’m wearing my new Christmas slippers. So. Let’s do this!

All photos by my Abby

For the hot chocolate, you will need:

1/4 cup red wine
3 tsp cocoa powder
4 tsp sugar
pinch of salt
4 tsp half and half (separate)
1/2 cup half and half
1/2 cup milk
a medium sauce pot
something pretty to serve in

How to do the thing:

Measure out the wine, set aside.

Combine the cocoa, sugar and salt in the sauce pot you’re gonna use. Add the 4 tsp half and half and stir, as though you’re making a sponge on The Great British Bake Off.

Once it’s a fudgey mixture, add your milk and the 1/2 cup half and half. The dairy usage here is where my recipe differs from the lovely Ella at Home Cooking Adventure. She got the recipe from Saveur, who used bittersweet chocolate, and she used cocoa to make it a bit healthier. I say fuck health, KOSELIG FOREVER. Or at least, koselig ’till April. I’m okay prioritizing mental health over caloric intake during these gloomy months. Half and half.

Here’s where my method differs, too. Heat the by-now hot chocolate mixture until it’s simmering a tiny bit, but not boiling. Whisk it every so often while you’re doing this, to keep the cocoa from sinking to the bottom. Add your wine and whisk, continuing to hold the mixture at a simmer. To me, milk tastes a bit different once its been boiled, and I prefer the taste of it pre-boiled.

Pour it into your serving mugs and serve. I’m garnishing mine with whipped cream and ground nutmeg, but other suggestions might be plain whipped cream, whipped cream and cinnamon, whipped cream and a Hershey kiss… you get the picture. If you need a whipped cream recipe, I outlined Mom’s Whipped Cream in The Warmest Drink (just leave the rum out of the whipped cream).

Now I will also say that, though I was excited, I was also a bit skeptical — what would red wine hot chocolate taste like? Actually, really lovely. Warm and floral. Kind of like the marriage of supposed winter and being able to put my feet in a pool all at once. Turns out, this drink was perfect

BUT SERIOUSLY WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS WEATHER, GOSH

So what about y’all? Is this a combination you’ve ever considered? What are you drinking? Is it freakishly warm where you are?

A Muggle’s Quest For The Perfect Mug Of (Alcoholic) Butterbeer

There’s nothing like winter in New York City to make you want to pour hot alcohol down your throat. Last year, I experimented with a variety of spiced, mulled wines. This year, I’ve been dreaming of butterbeer. And I’m not interested in the kiddie theme park variety made of cream soda and syrup from a squeeze bottle; I want grown-ass woman butterbeer. (Note: I do recognize the irony of this statement, considering butterbeer comes from the world’s most popular young adult fiction series, but I stand by my desire.)

Since Dumbledore taught me that it does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live, I’ve been working very hard to make my dream of hot, alcoholic butterbeer a reality. And I’ve been wildly successful! I have found the perfect butterbeer recipe. Now when I look in the Mirror of Erised, I just see myself holding socks.

Butterbeer ingredients.

Butterbeer Contenders

Although there are literally hundreds of butterbeer recipes out there, only a limited number meet the criteria I’m interested in: must be hot, must be alcoholic. With the aid of a simple summoning spell (Accio Google Search Engine!), I located eight very strong contenders. And then made all of them.

Here are my notes.

Left to right: 1. Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeer, 2. Old Fashioned Butterbeer, 3. Dairy-Free Butterbeer, 4. Butterscotch Butterbeer

1. Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeer – Hans Haupt

Ingredients: Guinness, butternut schnapps, gingerale, butter, egg yolk, honey, vanilla ice cream, cinnamon, nutmeg

Taste notes: Magical. Sweet but not too sweet, and I absolutely love the cold froth of the melting ice cream in contrast with the warm beverage.

2. Old Fashioned Butterbeer – Obedient Ingredients

Ingredients: Ale, butter, egg yolk, sugar, nutmeg

Taste notes: I can taste the beer in this one. It’s not bad, but recipe-wise, it seems so unnecessary to give measurements by weight. I’m not at Gringotts, measuring gold; I’m in my kitchen, measuring butter. Why can’t we just round that awkward 1 and 1/3 Tbsp butter up to 2 and call it a day?

3. Dairy-Free Butterbeer – Dairy Free Cooking

Ingredients: Dark beer, soy milk, soy margarine, egg yolk, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger

Taste notes: Smooth — which it better be, because the recipe had me whisk it forever. Pretty great tasting, but not really what I imagined butterbeer tasting like. My roommate Taty thinks the flavor is similar to the marshmallows in Lucky Charms. They’re… not wrong.

4. Butterscotch Butterbeer – Pop Sugar

Ingredients: Pumpkin ale, butterscotch sauce

Taste notes: This one has kind of a sharp taste. The butterscotch flavor is strong, to the point of overwhelming everything else. Didn’t love it.

Left to right: 5. Bourbon Butterbeer, 6. Hard Apple Cider, 7. Three Part Butterbeer, 8. British Ale Butterbeer

5. Bourbon Butterbeer – Tablespoon

Ingredients: Ginger beer, bourbon, apple cider, butterscotch sauce, butter, vanilla

Taste notes: Really good, really alcoholic. Roommate Claudia’s comment: “Sweet baby Jesus, this is the best thing that has been inside me all day.” I would totally drink this drink again.

6. Hard Apple Cider Butterbeer – Food52

Ingredients: Hard apple cider, gingerale, butter, brown suger, heavy cream, sea salt, vanilla extract, whipped cream

Taste notes: Fine, but in comparison to the other recipes, nothing special. Very apple cider-y, like something you’d drink on a hay ride while attempting to chat up Fleur Delacour.

7. Three Part Butterbeer – The Roaming Kitchen

Ingredients: Ginger beer, dark rum, butter, heavy cream, sea salt, brown sugar, fresh ginger, vanilla extract, vanilla bean, fresh nutmeg

Incredible. This is definitely the best tasting recipe. However, the drink is so much work to make! And who has expensive vanilla beans lying around? I feel like that’s an unreasonable request.

8. British Ale Butterbeer – Food in Literature

Ingredients: British ale, butter, yolk, brown sugar, pumpkin pie spice

Taste notes: Sweet. Super creamy. Tastes like pumpkin pie, or maybe a chai latte. Comforting.

My roommates Claudia and Taty were kind enough to help me drink the massive amounts of butterbeer I produced during this quest. Aren’t they adorable?!

The Winner(s)

The best tasting brew was Cristina Sciarra’s three part butterbeer recipe at The Roaming Kitchen. If you’re a butterbeer perfectionist with the patience to gather all the ingredients and engage in a time consuming, multi-step process to create liquid heaven, this is your recipe! Go forth.

That said: runner-up Hans Haupt’s recipe for Madam Rosmerta’s butterbeer is almost as good as the three-parter, but there’s way less work involved. Like, okay: this butterbeer is the taste equivalent of sitting in front of a lit fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, sharing a blanket with Hermione and chatting about your favorite books. The other butterbeer is the same experience, but you can see Crookshanks out of the corner of your eye and it looks like he’s coming over to let you pet him. Does that make sense? Both are excellent options, and in either case, you will have a very enjoyable experience! One is just slightly better, and you might not even think so, depending on how you feel about cats. So due to my strong feelings about diminishing returns (and dismayed incredulity over the cost of vanilla beans), Madam Rosmerta’s butterbeer is what I’ll be adopting as my personal house recipe.

Third place goes to the Tablespoon’s bourbon butterbeer. This is the one you want to drink if you’re trying to get warm-and-fuzzy, fall-down, think-you’re-a-wizard drunk. No judgment. We’ve all been there. And truly, we are all winners when there is any variety of hot alcoholic butterbeer to be had.

Best Butterbeer Ever Recipe

adapted from Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeer on Hans Haupt

Ingredients

• 200 mL gingerale (I like Reed’s Premium Ginger Brew for its extra ginger-y kick)
• 100 mL Guinness
• 85 mL butterscotch schnapps
• 1 egg yolk
• 2 Tbsp honey
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 1 scoop vanilla ice cream
• a pinch of cinnamon
• a dash of nutmeg
• Optional: additional freshly grated nutmeg for garnish
• Optional: dark rum to taste
• Optional: homemade butterscotch sauce to coat the bottom of your mug

Instructions

1. Pour the gingerale and Guinness into a deep set pan over medium heat. While you’re waiting for it to boil, whisk the following ingredients together in a separate bowl: egg yolk, butterscotch schnapps, honey, cinnamon and nutmeg.
2. Constant vigilance! When the gingerale-Guinness mixture reaches a boil, immediately remove it from the heat.
3. Ladle a spoonful of the hot brew into your egg yolk mixture. Mix, then repeat several times. The objective here is to bring up the temperature of the mixture without cooking the eggs.
4. After five or six large spoonfuls, pour the egg mixture into the pan with gingerale and Guinness. Set the heat to low and let it simmer for five minutes.
5. Add butter and whisk. Once it’s melted and completely incorporated, turn off the heat. You can add dark rum to taste at this point, if you like your butterbeer on the boozier side.
6. Pour into a mug and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. If you want to fancy it up, a spoonful of homemade butterscotch sauce on the bottom of your mug is a nice addition. Freshly grated nutmeg on top of the ice cream is also awesome, if you have it!

Cheers!

Liquor In The Wine: Mulled Wine Redux

My very first Liquor in the ______ back in 2012 was my mulled wine recipe. Right now, I’m in Pennsylvania at my fiancée’s family’s house — back when I made this the first time, my fiancée was my girlfriend. Things change. Updates are required. In the intervening three years, a few things have changed about it. I’ve tried a few different iterations, one notable disaster using grapefruit my fiancée bought by accident (do not recommend) and one using pomegranates. That’s the one we’re going to make today.

You will need:

• one bottle of not-so-nice red wine (we’re using a Gnarly Head Cabernet Sauvignon)
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1/2 cup not-so-nice brandy (we’re using E&J — the cheapest bottle I could get of that brand)
• zest of half an orange
• the rest of that orange, broken up into smaller pieces
• 8 pinches of cloves
• two teaspoons whole allspice berries
• two grand handfuls pomegranate seeds (hold the rest back for snacking)
• a lid for your pot!

To properly de-seed a pomegranate, I favour the Alton Brown method. Slice the ends off and score the skins. Fill a bowl with water and break the pomegranate apart under water—that way you don’t spray yourself with red juice. Lightly but assertively brush the seeds off the rind, also under water. The rind floats to the top and the seeds sink to the bottom.

Throw everything into the pot. I’m serious. There’s no rhyme or reason, just put it all in the pot. Break the orange slices up so they release the juices. Squeeze your two handfuls of pomegranate seeds to break the skins for the exact same reason (squeeze with your hands well inside the pot, though, or you’ll juice yourself!).

Give it a good stir, put the lid on the pot and put the mulled wine on low-low heat for about 25 minutes. You’ll smell when it’s done — very orangey and fragrant. Try not to lift the lid and stir or anything because the alcohol will escape, and I’m guessing you want that in there.

When it’s finished, ladle it into a heatproof mug through a strainer. Slice an orange into rounds, then the rounds into halves and float the orange across the top.

What’s changed since 2012?

Well for starters, my wine and brandy both got nicer. Not a whole lot nicer! My wine was $7 with no cork back then, and now it’s $11 and has to be opened with a proper corkscrew. While I stand by my suggestion of using not-so-nice wine, there is a bit of “you get what you start with” at play. Get something that’s drinkable even if you don’t mull it. Same with the brandy — the price point went from $15 to $22.

I’ve cut the cinnamon entirely because it upsets my fiancée’s stomach. That is the only reason it’s not in here. If you like cinnamon, then go for it! I’ve upped the brandy and downed the honey (I think my last recipe turned out too sweet), and increased the amount of clove pinches from five to eight (because I continue to be a clove monster). I have, however, cut the clove from the garnish because I actually thought (though I love the smell of cloves) that it was a little overwhelming.

The biggest difference is the presence of pomegranate in this recipe — another fiancée request and, to be honest, I have no idea why I didn’t use them before. Pomegranates are everywhere about the time of year that I want to make this. Why on earth didn’t I put them in before?! Ah, well, the mistake has been rectified.

What do you put in your mulled wine, lovelies? And what’s changed for you in three years? Happy Holidays and merry responsible drinking!

Out-take: “How do I face?”

Liquor in the Frosting: Make An Original Holiday Buttercream

Halloween is over. That means we’re now under that weird blanket: The Holidays. That’s right — and it’s been Christmas in Michael’s since August. Instead of showing you how to make a drink this month, I’m going to introduce you to the ways that my home bar has enhanced my cooking and baking. Specifically, having a bar in my home has really jazzed up my basic buttercream frosting. If you’re baking for a holiday, why not go above and beyond? And in this case, it seems like you have done a lot of work when in reality, this is real damn effortless.

Maple Bourbon Buttercream

I’ve never understood buying frosting in a can when frosting is arguably the easiest part of baked goods. Even if you make cake from a box, frosting is so quick to make. And when you make your own, you can customize the flavors; it can make a box cake taste like not a box cake! The frosting is really what we’re talking about today, but in case you want to know how I’m making these cupcakes, I’m using the Smitten Kitchen ‘I Want Chocolate Cake’ Cake recipe. This is, by far, the best cake recipe I’ve ever attempted and I think I will always use buttermilk in cake forever, but I digress. The buttercream can be used on a wide variety of cakes that require frosting—the flavors really do go with a lot. I’m choosing chocolate because that’s my dessert bias.

You Will Need:

+ Two sticks salted butter
+ One generous cup confectioners sugar, plus a bit more to add to get the right decorating consistency/sweetness for you
+ Three tablespoons of your favorite mixing bourbon. I’ve made this frosting with Bulleit and with New Holland’s Beer Barrel Bourbon. It’s been good with both, but slightly different. Follow your heart and your taste buds.
+ Three tablespoons real maple syrup. It’s gotta be the real stuff, otherwise your frosting will taste like chemicals. And that’s what we are trying to avoid by making our own frosting.
+ An electric hand mixer. Good lord, I can’t imagine doing this without an electric hand mixer.
+ Some cake to frost. I chose to bake cupcakes because my fiancée wanted cupcakes.

Ahead of time, put your two sticks of butter in a large bowl to soften. Room temperature butter is easiest, and you want to avoid putting it in the microwave because it’ll melt too much.

When it’s all nice and soft (and after your cake is mostly cool), add the cup of confectioners sugar and beat with the hand mixer until it looks like frosting. I shit you not, that’s how I do it. Does it look like I could frost a cake with it? Peachy, then I’m done mixing.

This is what that should look like — see how it’s holding a shape?

Keep in mind that when you first start mixing, the frosting will look weird and lumpy. You will likely say to yourself, “Ali. There is no way that this will ever be frosting.” Just keep mixing and trust me.

Now add the maple syrup and the bourbon. Give it a quick mix and you’ll notice it makes the frosting wetter, so have your confectioner’s sugar on hand. Add and mix until you’ve achieved the frosting’s former consistency and you can easily decorate a cake without the frosting just straight up dissolving into goo. Should be a bit stiff, but easily workable. Feel free to taste along the way to make sure you love the taste. Taste is most important.

Here’s what mine looks like after adding the liquor, syrup and more sugar.

Now if you want to riff off the flavors a little — say the frosting is too boozy for you, go ahead and mess with the balance between the maple and the bourbon. Try two tablespoons bourbon and four tablespoons maple. I just wouldn’t go with more than six tablespoons of additional liquid, or the frosting won’t hold its shape. Either way, remember that this frosting is adults only! It’s basically a cocktail on a cupcake.

Now to frost — if you’re doing a regular cake, just grab a baking spatula and have at it. If you’re getting fancier, you can use a pastry bag. Personally, I think pastry bag is the easiest way to frost a cupcake. If you use a pastry bag, stick it in the freezer for a couple minutes before you start piping—your hands warm the bag as you go, so starting cold is a good way to ensure your frosting doesn’t turn to goo. But literally only, like, two or three minutes, otherwise it’ll be too hard to work with.

I’ve kept a pastry bag in the fridge with this frosting in it for up to a week, because butter keeps for a really long time AND there’s liquor in it. If you do that, just make sure you let it warm up a little before decorating anything with it. Room temperature combined with handling it a little does that just fine.

Go forth and frost!

Liquor in the Cider: A Snakebite

Last month is was sorta kinda Fall. This month, though? Definitely Fall! A few lonely leaves are starting to float to the sidewalk and I wore my scissoring sweatshirt to the post office today. And when the air starts to deliver my favorite sort of crisp bite, that can only mean one thing: a Snakebite. And I head for this sort of drink because Autumn means hard cider, and (though I love cider) sometimes I find cider to be too sweet. That’s where a Snakebite is truly outstanding — the beer bitters up the cider as the cider sweetens up the beer, making the perfect combo.

Now, as with most drinks, no one can agree on what the Snakebite actually is. There are two main schools of thought that I’ve figured out — one that makes a Snakebite with a lager, and one that makes it with a stout. When you make a Snakebite with a stout, you layer the drinks in the glass, which I find VERY EFFING DIFFICULT. When you make it with a lager, you don’t — but you do add a lil crème de cassis for extra sweet depth. We’ll be doing just the latter because I still haven’t mastered the knife pour to show you guys — but I’m planning on doing so in the future, never you worry! For now, here’s my Snakebite. Happy Fall!

Snakebite

You will need:

One can or bottle of cider.

One can or bottle of lager.

1/4 oz crème de cassis (a little goes a long way).

A large beer glass.

A pony/jigger for measuring.

Begin by pouring the glass halfway full with cider.

Then throw in your 1/4 oz crème de cassis without any regard for layering because this version is for the people who say fuck layering. Then top it off with lager. What you should have here is a pinkish-gold liquid that looks beautiful and tastes like Autumn. That’s it. That’s literally all you do. And guys, it’s so pretty and tasty!

A reminder: these drinks are sweet, and are therefore easy to accidentally overdo. Please drink responsibly!

What about y’all? Are y’all doing anything creative with your cider this Fall?

Liquor In The Pears: The Pear Afternoon for the In-Between Month of September

Ah, September, the month in which my favorite season settles upon us. Autumn is the best. Except of course that the majority of September feels like August yet connotatively signals Summer’s end. What the hell shall we do for cocktails this month, then? When your head wants a maple bourbon hot toddy but the heat says WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH A HOT DRINK DO YOU NOT FEEL THINGS?

What I try to do is straddle the fence a bit: make something with some fall flavors that’s still cool and refreshing. Enter the pear. Pears are commonly associated with fall, but the earliest pears start hitting farmers’ markets in late summer, and pear juice is available all year round if you buy it in the carton. I know, I know. I never buy pre-juiced juice. But because pears aren’t exactly easy to juice without a Breville, I’m going to let it slide just this once. Not everyone has a juicer, after all. Anyhow, let’s all sit back, relax and enjoy a little something of my own invention called a Pear Afternoon. It’s mega easy and super refreshing.

You Will Need:

3 oz. pear juice

2 oz. vodka

a dash of vanilla

a bowl o’ sugar

Let’s start with rimming a glass! This is something I haven’t done on Autostraddle before, and there are so many schools of thought about it. Some people say the only way to do it is to rotate the glass around in the sugar evenly and carefully so that your steady hand produces this crazy tight rim that only exists on the outside of the glass. I say why do that when we can cheat? The glass itself will make sure your rim is even because, well, the rim on the glass is even. Moisten the rim with a little pear juice (I used a paper towel) and place the glass, rim down, into a dish with sugar on it. PROBLEM SOLVED!

By the way, with a sweet rim even the cheater way only rims the outside of the glass as long as you use a paper towel and apply the pear juice to the rim with precision. It’s the salty rims (where you use a lemon or lime wedge and therefore also coat the inside of the rim) where the cheater method is obvious.

Fill your shaker half with ice and dump in the pear juice, vodka and vanilla. Shake until the outside of the shaker is cold, maybe even frosty!

Because it’s so hot out, I’m going to say let’s drink this over ice. Strain out of the shaker into your rimmed glass, filled with ice. Some of y’all might be wondering why I’m straining out of ice into ice. It’s because the stuff you shook with should be starting to crack and melt, which is exactly what you want it to do while you’re shaking. It’s just not what you want in your glass as you start drinking as it’ll water down your delicious Pear Afternoon.

So what are y’all drinking during this strange in-between-month? Do you have anything you’d like to riff on with this Pear Afternoon? It was all I could do not to add the hellfire bitters — I know, I know, they don’t go in everything. But you all know how much I love them!