There are a lot or cocktail recipes that call for a maraschino cherry or two. They mostly make the drink pretty, and I guess if you get used to them, they even taste OK - I usually manage to eat them. Just don't try to fool yourself that they actually taste like cherries. In fact, as early as 1911, a New York Times editorial described a maraschino cherry as "a tasteless, indigestible thing, originally to be sure, a fruit of the cherry tree, but toughened and reduced to the semblance of a formless, gummy lump by long imprisonment in a bottle filled with so-called maraschino." Almost a hundred years later after the turn of the century, another Times item described them as "the culinary equivalent of an embalmed corpse", and that might be a fitting description given what they contain. The cherries shown in the picture above are pretty decent as maraschino cherries go, but they contain all kinds of things that I have reservations about eating: corn syrup and high-fructose corn syrup, Red #40 dye, and several types of chemical preservatives.
Lately, I have been seeing quite a number of articles about alternatives that taste better, and any number of recipes about making your own cocktail cherries. Chief among the commercial recommendations is Luxardo Gourmet Maraschino Cherries which you can buy through Amazon.com for about $18. When I saw some fresh cherries at the grocery store today, though, I decided I would try to make some of my own. Aft looking at a bunch of recipes I found on the internet, I decided to use ideas from a number of different versions, and canned my own recipe using sweet bing cherries, Luxardo Cherry Liquor , Brandy, lemon juice, and turbinado sugar. Two pounds of cherries yielded 6 half-pint jars.
They need to sit for a few days, so I can't tell you yet how they turned out. I suspect they will be a little too sweet, but far better than standard maraschino cherries. Next time, I'll try to find some sour cherries, possibly frozen, or I'll use Trader Joe's Morello Cherries, which were recommended in a couple of recipes I saw.
If this batch turns out good, though, I'll publish a recipe in a couple of weeks.
To the best of my recollection,
I had my first Sazerac after my Mom and Dad returned from one of their regular visits to New Orleans. When they went, they liked to enjoy the Commander's Palace in the Garden District, which on their recommendation became one of my favorite restaurants anywhere. Commander's food is excellent (and my mouth is watering as I write this), but it is the way they treat you that sets them apart. It is a place where it still feels right to wear a jacket at dinner, and where they make you feel important even though you are not. A place where you want to be with your family on special occasions, and where you take important business associates.
When my folks went to Commander's, they enjoyed a Sazerac cocktail. One time when they were there, the bartender shared his Sazerac recipe - written on a napkin (I think in 1982, but the writing is not real clear) - and my Dad brought it back and made it for me the next time I visited. It was wonderful.
The Sazerac is one of the old traditional cocktails of New Orleans. I couldn't even come close to describing its history in the way that Chuck Taggart does in his Gumbo Pages web site, and I recommend it highly for everything New Orleans. You should definitely read his Sazerac history as you enjoy the cocktail for the first time.
Not many bars and restaurants know how to make a Sazerac, or even what one is. But I sometimes ask for, and am rewarded with one when I go to good restaurants. I have not found one yet, though, that makes this simple drink as well as you can at home.
Some recipes call for Bourbon (as does the Commander's recipe given to my Dad) and others for Rye whiskey, and some call for using both Angostura and Peychaud's bitters, but the traditional version uses only Peychaud's. In our experiments, Kathy and I have decided that the traditional Rye whiskey and Peychaud's only is the way to go.
The traditional New Orleans Rye is Old Overholt, but most reviewers think that Sazerac brand and Rittenhouse are probably a bit better. My biggest surprise, though, is that the Jim Beam (ri)1, the overpriced Rye that I had spoken poorly of of when I talked about Manhattans in an earlier post, is really good in a Sazerac. I think we might have to keep some around just to dedicate for that use.
As I have been writing this (and enjoying the Sazerac shown in the picture), I have also been thinking about how much I would like to have a nice meal at Commander's, ending up with the Whiskey Bread Pudding Souffle. Anybody want to make a weekend trip to New Orleans?
There are a few summer garden necessities that are just better when you grow them yourself. And there are also some that are almost impossible to find in Kerrville, Texas, so we are attempting to grow them at home. It is not real practical to grow a real garden like our friends in Maine do - we would have to station an armed guard to keep the deer, antelope, and giant red-eyed Texas jackrabbits out, so we plant them in a few pots on the patio, where our yard beasts rarely go.
The plants in the picture above include the following:
- Spearmint and peppermint for middle eastern food and mojitos (and there is already enough mint to make those mojitos).
- Basil for Italian and Thai food.
- Parsley for potato salad and just about everything else except Thai food.
- Cilantro for Mexican and Thai.
- Tomatoes for Gazpacho and fresh tomato sandwiches.
- Lemon Grass for Thai.
- Kaffir Lime tree for leaves to use in Thai food.
I think it may soon be time for some Tom Kha Gai, a Thai Chicken and Lemongrass Soup with coconut milk, lime leaves, and straw mushrooms, one of Kathy's favorites. (Or maybe a mojito.)
There are a lot or cocktail recipes that call for a maraschino cherry or two. They mostly make the drink pretty, and I guess if you get used to them, they even taste OK - I usually manage to eat them. Just don't try to fool yourself that they actually taste like cherries. In fact, as early as 1911, a New York Times editorial described a maraschino cherry as "a tasteless, indigestible thing, originally to be sure, a fruit of the cherry tree, but toughened and reduced to the semblance of a formless, gummy lump by long imprisonment in a bottle filled with so-called maraschino." Almost a hundred years later after the turn of the century, another Times item described them as "the culinary equivalent of an embalmed corpse", and that might be a fitting description given what they contain. The cherries shown in the picture above are pretty decent as maraschino cherries go, but they contain all kinds of things that I have reservations about eating: corn syrup and high-fructose corn syrup, Red #40 dye, and several types of chemical preservatives.
