Last Thursday found The Boy and I at an interesting event. It billed itself as a mixology class/showcase for OYO products. We’re fans of OYO (stop by when you’re in Columbus, and then walk next door to Brother’s Drake Meadery for some really yummy drinks), and we’ve been known to enjoy the odd adult beverage from time to time, so it seemed like an interesting way to spend the evening.
It was much as promised. Snacks, tasty drinks, and of course the requisite re-purposed warehouse as the venue. They even gave us recipes for their tasty offerings (I’m sharing my favorite below). But the whole time, I couldn’t help but have Fog and Smog’s Mixologist song running through my head. I did manage to keep from singing it out loud (at least where anyone else could hear), so I’m calling it a win.
And, should you find yourself in need of a restorative tonic, I can officially recommend the following:
La Tête, le Cœur (The Head, the Heart) by Greg West-Tartine
- 2 oz Oyo whiskey
- 3/4 ounce verjus
- 1/2 ounce green Chartreuse
- 1/4 ounce simple syrup
- 6-8 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
- orange peel for garnish
Mix it up…in a glass…with ice. You can pretend I said that in a fancy cocktail-y proper sort of way, but really, mix it up, in a glass, with ice. Then twist up that orange peel over it and drop it in. Then, enjoy it, and think well of me. Quite tasty.
Really, this is very easy. So easy I’m going to let the pictures do most of the talking. Ready, here we go.
3) Cut your Meyer lemons almost all the way into quarters (cut most of the way through the lemon, leaving just enough to hold them together at the bottom). Don’t panic if you slip, you can still use them. Just aim for them to stay together.
7) Pour in some of your extra lemon juice from your backup lemons to fill up the extra spaces. Figuring out just how much to put in is a trick. You want it just full enough that a tiny bit of juice leaks out when you screw on the cap (meaning there is as little air as possible in the jar). If you don’t spill a bit, you didn’t use enough.
8) Stand back and admire your industry. Let them sit on the counter (flip them over once a day or so) for a week. After that, top the jars up with extra lemon juice if needed, and pop them in the fridge. They’re ready to use after about a month, and they keep more or less forever (read, a year or so at least).
It’s freezing cold outside today, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to hole up at home and make something yummy. Today’s plan is preserved (or salt cured) lemons. I made these last year and have fallen completely in love with them. They are delicious in any sort of vegetable dish (we use them most every time we make chicken or vegetable soup) and are called for in lots of Moroccan recipes. They’ve become a must-have staple in my kitchen.
There is a bit of a seasonal aspect to them. They’re best made with Meyer lemons, and those are easiest to find (at least where I live) in January and February. So this seems the perfect time to make them. If you want to make them too, you’ll need the following things.
Meyer lemons: I’ve got about 20 here. That’s not quite a year’s supply for us, but it was all the store had. I’ll likely do more if the store has more next time I’m there.
Backup lemons: You need these for extra juice. You can do this with just regular lemons if you can’t find the Meyer ones, but in my case, these will just be the supporting actors. Be prepared for the cashier to ask what the heck you’re doing with all these lemons.
Salt: You want sea salt, and coarse-grained sea salt if you can find it. Cheap is fine (Trader Joes, $1.49 for the canister, and you won’t actually need two), this is not the place to break out your fancy-pants pink salt from some exotic locale.
Mason Jars: I use the wide mouth (that bit is important) pint jars from Ball. You should use whatever you’ve got on hand. This is not a fancy full on canning/jam-making process. It’s shoving stuff in jars. It’s very low stress, a washed out jam jar would work if you want to do a test run without buying anything.
I’ll be back next time with the step-by-step bits so you can make them too. Just so long as you promise to invite me over for dinner.
So it seems the sock, the pale blue, leafy, spring-tastic sock, has some limits to its magical powers of winter banishment. This is what I woke up to this morning.
That’s one of my office windows. This is another.
It’s a wee bit brisk out there. And gray. And windy. All of which is completely appropriate. It’s January in Cleveland, this is what it’s supposed to be like. But I am definitely going to spend the day in woolly socks to compensate. And I may set the leafy socks aside for today. Knitting on them when it’s like this out there seems just too much cognitive dissonance for a Tuesday morning.
You’ll recall that this whole star thing started as a way to make it snow. It still hasn’t worked, but apparently my furnace heard about my concerns and wanted in on the act. So last night, when it was just the tiniest bit nippy outside (even if it wasn’t snowing) he stopped working. Well not quite, he kept blowing air, he just stopped heating that air before blowing it on me. Very refreshing.
I responded with stoicism and wool. And another star.
My office windows are now full, so it’s likely time to stop. I’m sure the snow will arrive any day now.
And because you guys really do seem enamored of these, I’ve done a bit of looking around, and I’ve found a few more links for you. Here is someone who has made them with just tissue paper and has instructions for a few basic stars in English. Here is a place to buy the sort of paper I’m using (or something close to it, I’ve not ordered this so I can’t say for sure, but it sounds the same). And should your own dexterity/time/energy not quite be up to the task, here is a place to buy the completed stars.
Now this evening, my goal really is to get the second of those cabled socks on the needles. With any luck at all, we should return you to your regularly scheduled woolly goodness very shortly.