Every year, The Partner and I host a Pride brunch. Most years we have about 15-25 people show up. We cook easy brunch things, serve up the usual brunchy cocktails like Mimosas, Bloody Marys, and Screwdrivers. This year we had two occasions to change things up and go all out. First was our deck. We've just finished an expansion of it that includes a fun new outdoor bar. The other occasion was this little project we're on with the bible and the blog.
As we planned our respective menus, I decided that the usual drink fare were fine, however the morning would need something new to reflect our growing expertise in the mixological arts. Given that the morning moves quickly and we're on a schedule to walk over to the parade by late morning, the special bev would have to be something I could mix a batch of in advance and just pour into a glass when requested. Not wanting to experiment with something new for a party, I turned back to the blog, zeroing in on both the "Make it again, Sam" and "summer" tags for inspiration. Everyone remember the Jasmine ("I'll have a Jaaaasssmine...")? Seemed perfect. It was breakfasty in its ingredients, tasted like grapefruit juice when mixed, and bonus of bonuses for the day: IT WAS PINK!
After a trip to Costco for some large scale high end ingredients (I was mixing for 40.) and a cool, spigotted dispenser, I got to work the morning of the affair. I collected the ingredients, pulled my measuring cups, squeezed six pounds of fresh lemons. I mixed it all together and tasted. Now here's the lesson: unless the drink is specifically a punch, you can't just scale it up. A simple and proportional conversion from ounces to cups simply does not work -- which is what I did. How clever and mathematical I felt! But when finished mixing and adding a healthy amount of ice, I didn't have a punch, I just had a cocktail of Brobdingnagian proportions. It was amazing how something that is so delicious and refreshing in a four ounce martini glass was utterly lacerating in a twelve ounce drinking glass filled with ice.
What was supposed to be a simple mixing task had now become a rescue mission. Guests were minutes away from walking in the door and I had to find a way not to waste over $100 of perfectly good premium liquor. Taking a moment, I breathed and with a little positive self-talk I told myself that I would not panic. This was now an improvisation, no different from when I'm cooking without a recipe. It would just require some thought to the ingredients necessary to achieve the desired flavors and textures coupled with a routine of mix and taste, mix and taste until all elements were balanced and harmonious. Luckily, The Partner had already made a pitcher of simple syrup just to have on hand. Luckily, too, we live across the street from a Whole Foods. Figuring my budding Pride Punch was suffering from an over abundance of sharp base and accent liquors as well as an acidic juice, it would need more sweetness to soften it up. I grabbed a carton of sweetened lemonade from across the street and added about two cups of that to the mix. Next, I added about half a cup of the syrup. With a few more tweaks with each new ingredient I finally arrived at the perfect balance of sweet to tart, brining the sharp presence of alcohol down to a mere suggestion. Mixed with ice and it was the perfect cooler on a sunny, summer Pride morning!
It's here that I have to give a shoutout to our neighbor, Y. She came over right on time and before everyone else and was the instrumental set if taste buds and opinions that helped me complete this concoction. Y, babe, I know this was not your cup of tea, but you took one for the team to save the day, and I appreciate that. Clearly, we were successful. As the picture shows, it was popular. Peeps were so disappointed when the barrel ran dry two people were picking the tankard up off it's base and tipping it ten ways to Sunday to eek out the last few drops from the tap. Ah, I love an enthusiastic Pride!
As we planned our respective menus, I decided that the usual drink fare were fine, however the morning would need something new to reflect our growing expertise in the mixological arts. Given that the morning moves quickly and we're on a schedule to walk over to the parade by late morning, the special bev would have to be something I could mix a batch of in advance and just pour into a glass when requested. Not wanting to experiment with something new for a party, I turned back to the blog, zeroing in on both the "Make it again, Sam" and "summer" tags for inspiration. Everyone remember the Jasmine ("I'll have a Jaaaasssmine...")? Seemed perfect. It was breakfasty in its ingredients, tasted like grapefruit juice when mixed, and bonus of bonuses for the day: IT WAS PINK!
After a trip to Costco for some large scale high end ingredients (I was mixing for 40.) and a cool, spigotted dispenser, I got to work the morning of the affair. I collected the ingredients, pulled my measuring cups, squeezed six pounds of fresh lemons. I mixed it all together and tasted. Now here's the lesson: unless the drink is specifically a punch, you can't just scale it up. A simple and proportional conversion from ounces to cups simply does not work -- which is what I did. How clever and mathematical I felt! But when finished mixing and adding a healthy amount of ice, I didn't have a punch, I just had a cocktail of Brobdingnagian proportions. It was amazing how something that is so delicious and refreshing in a four ounce martini glass was utterly lacerating in a twelve ounce drinking glass filled with ice.
What was supposed to be a simple mixing task had now become a rescue mission. Guests were minutes away from walking in the door and I had to find a way not to waste over $100 of perfectly good premium liquor. Taking a moment, I breathed and with a little positive self-talk I told myself that I would not panic. This was now an improvisation, no different from when I'm cooking without a recipe. It would just require some thought to the ingredients necessary to achieve the desired flavors and textures coupled with a routine of mix and taste, mix and taste until all elements were balanced and harmonious. Luckily, The Partner had already made a pitcher of simple syrup just to have on hand. Luckily, too, we live across the street from a Whole Foods. Figuring my budding Pride Punch was suffering from an over abundance of sharp base and accent liquors as well as an acidic juice, it would need more sweetness to soften it up. I grabbed a carton of sweetened lemonade from across the street and added about two cups of that to the mix. Next, I added about half a cup of the syrup. With a few more tweaks with each new ingredient I finally arrived at the perfect balance of sweet to tart, brining the sharp presence of alcohol down to a mere suggestion. Mixed with ice and it was the perfect cooler on a sunny, summer Pride morning!
It's here that I have to give a shoutout to our neighbor, Y. She came over right on time and before everyone else and was the instrumental set if taste buds and opinions that helped me complete this concoction. Y, babe, I know this was not your cup of tea, but you took one for the team to save the day, and I appreciate that. Clearly, we were successful. As the picture shows, it was popular. Peeps were so disappointed when the barrel ran dry two people were picking the tankard up off it's base and tipping it ten ways to Sunday to eek out the last few drops from the tap. Ah, I love an enthusiastic Pride!
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| LOOK at all those "Jasmine Pride Punches"! |
I hosted about three difference summer parties this week and used H&M to mix up the menu as well. Figuring the "big cocktail" syndrome would seem a bit odd in a 12 oz collins class (that's a lot of lemon/lime juice), I stuck mainly to fizzes and similar drinks. French 75, Diablo, Moscow Mules, Margaritas, Hemingway Daiquiri, and a low-alcohol-low-sugar cocktail for my more tee-tolling friends (and myself, since i was hosting). Good job on changing it up last minute, how do you like the jasmine sans punch? I haven't made it yet, don't have campari.
ReplyDeleteHi Budding Cartoonist, sounds to me like you hit the good ones. Love all the ones you went for. I was aiming for Picon punches this weekend, but couldn't find Amer Picon in any of the 3 liquor stores I hit, including a warehouse importer. Love the Jasmine, btw. As I say in the original blog entry for it, it's just like sipping pink grapefruit juice. Great if you like that kind of tartness. Honestly, the punch "version" turned out to be nothing like the cocktail...and necessarily so.
ReplyDeleteTell me how you've liked the others you tried this weekend. All good for summer time, for sure.
Well, the biggest hit so far (by far) is the mule. People won't stop requesting them. And honestly, I don't blame them. For all wonderful (and snoody) cocktails in the H&M book and their hate of vodka, i think the mule is an amazing fizz and maybe one of the best drinks in the book. The key is sharp ginger beer.
ReplyDeletemy biggest surprise so far was the astoria, pink gin, and scofflaw. My wife HATES whiskey, but could easily enjoy the scofflaw. Her favorite so far is the french 75. It's all but eliminated the mimosa from our brunches.
Worst drink so far is the tom and jerry. The one i thought I'd love but hated was the mint julip. too sweet.
BC- Been a summer. Sorry not to get back as I've wanted to comment on your comment.
ReplyDeleteIt's uncanny, your faves have been ours as well. French 75 as well as Champagne cocktail with an "embittered" sugar cube have replaced mimosas here as well.
I've also found myself gravitating to the Cuba Libre after a long day of drinking just about anything else. It's also really good hair of the dog!
I do like the julep, but find I jigger with the proportions. Pull back on the simple syrup. Add more seltzer.
Like your wife, I was not a fan of what I've called "brown liquors". And I really couldn't stand gin. But the great thing about these drinks is that like cooking, these recipes balance various ingredients and make unique flavors. I now say that I like gin cocktails or bourbon cocktails because of this. I know I've not mixed well when I can taste too much of one ingredient over the rest.