by Ravinder Kingra
This is the first column of many that I'll be writing for Accidental Vegetables. Each week or so, I'll provide readers with a cocktail recipe and some musings on the finer points of boozy quaffs.

Cocktails & Ice. The former rendered nigh unpalatable without the latter. You can never have too much ice in your freezer, especially when a party looms on the calendar. And the ice shouldn’t be the kind you buy at the 7-11 or the grocery store. That ice has a lot more surface area and therefore melts quicker, watering down drinks in the process. Use the largest ice cubes you can and make sure they are frozen solid. If you don’t have that glorious contraption known as the automatic ice maker you can stockpile ice in a plastic bag or Tupperware container that you keep in the freezer.

Unless a drink has a carbonated component (i.e. gin & tonic, dark & stormy, etc.) I always use a shaker. I am not a member of that crackpot club that believes shaking drinks “bruises the alcohol.” It is true that a shaken drink will be a bit cloudy, but a perfectly clear martini makes me think of rubbing alcohol. Shaking results in a thoroughly blended and chilled concoction; with a slight frothiness into which one can sink one’s teeth. I tend to shake cocktails for at least 20 seconds. The shaker frosts over and the fingers start to go numb, but a small towel enlisted as a shaker cozy will spare the bartender some discomfort.

THE BABY SADIE

Named for my niece. Yes, my niece. No, I don’t think it in bad taste to name a cocktail after a tiny little child. When I heard I was going to be an uncle I decided a drink was in order...to celebrate the momentous news, steady the nerves, stop the tears of joy streaming down my face, and so on and so forth. Celebration indeed.

4 oz. bourbon
2 oz cointreau or triple sec
2 oz freshly squeezed lemon juice
½ teaspoon vanilla
vanilla sugar (optional)

Mix all ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Add ice. Shake until very cold. Strain into frozen martini glasses rimmed with vanilla sugar, if using. Enjoy.

p.s. To make vanilla sugar, add 1 cup of sugar and a one inch piece of vanilla bean to a food processor. Process for a minute or two, until the vanilla has been chopped into tiny little pieces. You can store any extra sugar in an airtight container in your pantry for months and months.

Yields 2 cocktails

So there I was, entrusted by kith and kin to create a libation to whet the whistles gathered for a Christmas fête. When saddled with such responsibility one can find oneself lost in a sea of flips and fizzes, slings and sours. But as Confucius say[sic], “start simple.” At least I think that’s what he meant when he mentioned something about a cricket learning to walk before it could run or a mighty oak tree starting life as an acorn or seed or some such thing. With that in mind I chose as a starting point that archetypal tipple, the martini. It is a simple yet profound mixture (in varying ratios) of gin and dry vermouth; its detractors may be under the impression that it is a mixture (in varying ratios) of paint thinner and jet fuel. I wanted to create something with a touch of sweetness; something smooth as velvet.

Whilst staring at the liquor cabinet I had what alcoholics might call a moment of clarity. I had an idea. I reached for the cocktail shaker and into said shaker deposited a splash of the Clear Creek Williams Pear brandy and a three ponies (ounces) of gin. Filling the shaker with ice I proceeded to shake vigorously for 20 seconds. I strained the mixture into an ice-cold martini glass and took a sip. An amazing, alchemical phenomenon had occurred. The brandy had somehow coaxed from the gin a subtle sweetness. It was well rounded and smooth. It was a revelation.

But a nameless one. For a few days the drink had no name, like a baby left at the door of a nunnery. Its new assemblage of fans (the aforementioned kith and kin) would simply snap their fingers or ask for “one of the those, you know, gin thingies” when the cocktail hour presented itself. Rivers of the stuff were shaken and poured, but still no name. But then it happened, as it sometimes has a tendency to do. Having put away two or three “gin thingies” one night, I poured myself into bed and during this sound, hooch-induced slumber I had the most curious of dreams. As it turned out, in the dream, former First Lady Barbara Bush was a great devotee of the drink I had created, known to knock them back with tremendous zeal at State function and so forth. And so it was. “There is nothing like a dream,” Victor Hugo once said, “to create the future.” May I present--the future, the Barbara Bush.

THE BARBARA BUSH
I’ve added a couple dashes of bitters and a fanciful garnish to the recipe but the drink is still delicious, if less exciting, without them.

6 oz. gin (preferably Tanqueray. If money is a concern, Gordon’s. If they’re about to shut off the power, try my “Home-made” Gin recipe)
½ oz. Clear Creek Distillery’s Williams Pear brandy
2 pieces orange zest or 2 dashes Fee Brothers orange bitters.
Two dried pear chips (optional)

1. Combine first three ingredients in cocktail shaker and fill with ice cubes.

2. Shake for at least 20 seconds.

3. Strain into frozen martini glasses and float pear chip, if using, in the glass.

Yields 2 cocktails

by Ravinder Kingra

The mercury (admittedly, few thermometers still employ mercury to tell one what one needs to know when one requires the services of a thermometer) has begun its yearly descent. The work day now starts and ends in darkness. The Jack-O-Lantern Peeps are nowhere to be found, having been vanquished by those of the Christmas tree and snowman varieties. At a time like this, one finds oneself in need of what the French might call un aide-mémoire, though usually only in diplomatic circles; someone of the English-speaking persuasion might instead bethink oneself of those contented days of summer. Days spent snoozing on the dock, shuttling the cock back and forth over the badminton net, supping the sup en plein air (again with the damnable French), as it were, and so on and so forth.

Here, friends, is an agreeable curative if ever there was one. The long-gone warmth and frivolity of summer will come rushing back to the fore; crashing down like the softest, most wonderful, tart and tangy ton of lemony, boozy bricks one could hope under which to find oneself. The standard home bar may not consider among its faithful members two of the ingredients--the guilty parties involved being limoncello (a lemon cordial) and butterscotch schnapps—but both are available at most liquor stores. Alternatively, recipe for a simple and delightful limoncello substitute can be found on my website, and also here, and here. Entering the "make your own lemon liqueur" industry, however, will take some advanced planning--at least a week or so for the flavors to mix, mingle, and otherwise get to know one another.

So when one’s morning routine requires the calculation of just how many pairs of long underwear into which one will need to stuff oneself, the time has come for one or two Simpaticos.

THE SIMPATICO

4 oz. vodka
2 dashes vanilla
½ oz butterscotch schnapps
2 oz lemon juice
2 oz Limoncello
sugar for rimming glasses (optional)
2 thin slices of lemon, or 2 twists of lemon (optional)

Combine first five ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake for 20 seconds. Strain into chilled, sugar-rimmed glasses. Add lemon slices or twists, if using, and serve.

Yields 2 cocktails