Cocktail - The Classic Martini (Vic's Way)

Plymouth gin, ice-cold, served straight up with three olives—and just a nod to France

Finalized after a spirited back-and-forth with ChatGPT.

2½ oz Plymouth Gin
A whisper of Noilly Prat dry vermouth (rinse the glass, or wave the bottle in the direction of the shaker)
Ice
3 green olives (Castelvetrano or classic pimento-stuffed)

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the Plymouth gin. Rinse a chilled martini glass with Noilly Prat, then discard the excess (or, if you’re Churchill, forget the vermouth entirely and merely glance toward France).

Shake the gin vigorously until the shaker is so cold it stings your fingers.

Strain into the prepared glass. Garnish with three olives.

Raspberry Sauce and Raspberry Coulis

When I make a flourless chocolate cake and am pulling out all the stops, I serve it with both Crème Anglaise and a raspberry sauce. Either of the following raspberry sauces works beautifully. Each one is excellent served over vanilla or sweet cream ice cream. 

Raspberry Coulis

Adapted from Above and Beyond Parsley: Food for the Senses by The Junior League of Kansas City, Missouri (Junior League of Kansas City, Missouri, 1992)

1½ cups fresh or frozen unsweetened raspberries
¼ cup powdered sugar
¼ cup Chambord

Puree all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Strain to remove the seeds. Chill before serving.

Raspberry Sauce
Adapted from Chocolate (Williams-Sonoma Kitchen Library) by Lora Brody (Time-Life Books, 1993)

315g (2½ cups) fresh or thawed frozen unsweetened raspberries
125g (½ cup) castor (superfine) sugar
¼ cup Chambord

Puree all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Strain to remove the seeds. Chill before serving.

Flourless Almond Cake

Adapted from From Baklava to Tarte Tatin by Bernard Laurance (Rizzoli, 2016)

Serves 6 to 8

This bakes into a thin disc meant to be served simply with whipped cream. I usually add a splash of Amaretto (Luxardo is the brand I like) to the cream before whipping it. (It's also lovely with sweet-cream or vanilla ice cream.) It isn’t very cake-y the way brownies aren’t chocolate cake—so don’t be surprised when people ask what it is.  

This is best made the day before you plan to serve; if you’re baking the same day, make it early. 

This recipe uses whole UNBLANCED almonds that you grind yourself—finer than meal but not as powdery as commercial almond flour. If you want to try toasting the almonds, do it ahead (350°F for 10 minutes, turning once at 5 minutes), and let them cool completely before grinding. I don’t taste a big difference, so toasting isn’t necessary.

For a very small 6-inch cake, halve the recipe.

120g unsalted butter, melted and cooled but still liquid 
A little softened butter for coating the pan
200g unblanched unsalted whole almonds, raw or roasted 
¼ teaspoon salt
100g confectioners’ sugar, sifted (I sift through a coarse sieve, not a flour sifter)
100g granulated sugar (I like Domino’s Golden Sugar)
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 325°F, not convection.

Generously butter the sides of an 8-inch cake pan and line the bottom with parchment cut to fit. There’s no need to butter the parchment.

Pulse the almonds in a food processor until finely ground but not powdery—less fine than commercial almond flour.

In a large bowl, combine the ground almonds, salt, sifted confectioners’ sugar, and granulated sugar.

In a small bowl, beat the eggs with the vanilla, then add to the dry ingredients along with the cooled, still-liquid butter. Mix until smooth and the butter is fully incorporated—the batter should be quite thick. Scrape into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a small offset spatula.

Bake 35 to 40 minutes, until the cake is golden brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out (sort of) clean. (In my oven, 40 minutes is just right.) Unmold quickly: after 2—but no more than 5—minutes, run a small straight metal spatula or thin knife around the edge. If it seems to be pulling, wait a minute and try again. Invert to release; if it hesitates, hold it upside down for a moment and it will let go.

Cool before serving.

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream Desserts by Jeni Britton Bauer (Artisan, 2011 & 2014)

Note: This recipe follows Jeni Britton Bauer’s method for ice cream made with cream cheese as the stabilizer. If you’re new to the technique, see my Sweet Cream Ice Cream post for a detailed explanation and book recommendations.

Note: If you have an immersion blender, it will come it handy, but it's not necessary.

Makes about 1 quart

Chocolate Base

 Make this first.

75g cocoa powder (I use Guittard Rouge Cocoa Powder)
2/3 cup strong brewed coffee
100g sugar (I use Domino Golden Sugar)
2 ounces chopped chocolate (I use Guittard 70% chocolate)

Mix the cocoa, coffee, and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and boil for 30 seconds. Remove from the heat, add the chopped chocolate, let stand for 5 minutes so the chocolate can melt, and stir until smooth.

Sweet Cream Base Specifically for Chocolate Ice Cream

600g whole milk
336g heavy cream
132g granulated sugar (I use Domino Golden Sugar)
3 tablespoons Lyle’s Golden Syrup
14g Bob’s Red Mill tapioca flour (what I use) or cornstarch
56g cream cheese
1/8 teaspoon salt (I use fine sea salt.)

Weigh the tapioca flour or cornstarch into a small prep bowl.

Weigh the cream cheese onto a small flat plate and sprinkle the salt over it. Use the tines of a fork to press the salt into the cream cheese, then transfer it to a container that can handle a bit of warm liquid—I use the tall beaker that came with my immersion blender.

Measure the Lyle’s Golden Syrup into a small glass—I use a 5-ounce measuring glass. You can microwave it for 30 seconds to make it easier to pour.

Pour the milk into a saucepan. Take a small amount of that milk and whisk it into the bowl with the tapioca flour until completely smooth. Set the slurry aside.

Add the heavy cream to the milk in the pan. Stir in the sugar and Lyle’s Golden Syrup. Bring to a low boil and boil gently for 4 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat.

Stir the tapioca slurry once more to make sure it’s smooth, then whisk it into the hot milk mixture. Return the pan to the heat and bring it back to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil for exactly one minute—no more—then remove from the heat.

Add the warm chocolate base to the container with the cream cheese and use an immersion blender (or a whisk) to blend until smooth. Pour this chocolate–cream cheese mixture back into the saucepan and whisk to fully incorporate.

Strain the base through a fine-mesh sieve into a container. I do this in two steps: first through a rounded sieve into an 8-cup Pyrex measuring cup, then through a conical sieve into a tall glass container with a lid. (Jeni says you can use a 1-gallon Ziplock freezer bag, but I don’t.)

Make a water bath to chill the base. I use reusable gel ice packs stored in the freezer, since I don’t have an ice cube maker. Either works well.

Place the container of ice cream base into a deep bowl, preferably stainless steel, and fill the bowl with cold water—being careful not to let any water into the container. Surround the container with frozen gel packs or ice cubes. Jeni says the base is usually cold enough to spin after about 30 minutes, but I typically refrigerate it overnight to cure and chill it thoroughly.

When ready, spin the mixture in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s directions.

I divide the finished ice cream between two pint-sized cardboard containers—like the ones Ben & Jerry’s uses—and place a 6-inch circle of parchment directly on the surface before sealing. This helps reduce ice crystals and keeps the texture smooth.

This ice cream is best after about 8 hours in the freezer. I like to cure the base overnight, spin in the morning, and have it ready by dinner.

 

Glass Container I Put Ice Cream In

Pint Container I Freeze Ice Cream In

Ice Cream Chilling in an Ice Bath with Gel Packs Instead of Ice Cubes

For Julia Reed

I wrote the original version of this post on March 17, 2014, but on August 28, 2020, the unimaginable happened. Julia Reed died of cancer while vacationing with friends.

I say unimaginable because—even though I didn’t know—know her—she was part of my life. I had all of her books; I collected her newspaper columns; I read everything written about her that I could get my hands on. I wanted to meet her but didn’t think I really had to—because she was already my friend.

She made me laugh and shared her best recipes. She introduced me to her beloved beagle, Henry. She gave me decorating tips. She seemed larger than life and too good to be true. It’s hard to say rest in peace for the girl whose motto was Let the Good Times Roll, so I’ll just say thank you.

Here is Jon Meacham's Tribute to Julia Reed in Garden & Gun.

My original post from March 17, 2014:

Alex Witchel and Frank Rich used to top the list of people I’ve never met but wanted to invite me to dinner. I was hoping for great conversation and these lamb chops. But not anymore.

I want Jon Meacham to invite me to his place for a party.

Yes, we can discuss Thomas Jefferson. Yes, we can talk about Winston Churchill and FDR. Yes, I can ask what Joe Scarborough is like and see if he doesn’t think Mika Brzezinski deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for trying to keep the decibel level on Morning Joe down.

But what I really want is for his wife Keith and her friend Julia Reed to have me over so we can cook and eat together.

There is nothing that makes me happier than discovering a new canapé or spending long days—and nights—planning a party. I have clocked so many hours with my friend Keith Meacham, who, like me, was born in the Mississippi Delta, armed with legal pads and Post-it notes, poring over seating charts and mapping out possible menus, that her husband Jon, the author and editor of Newsweek, now refers to us—with more than a hint of derision—as the “crabmeat caucus.”

—from Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2008)

I keep Julia Reed’s food columns from The New York Times in a binder. (The one called “Member of the Club” is my favorite.) Her books Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties and But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria are dog-eared on my shelf—and downloaded to both my Kindle and iPad for easy access. I even subscribed to Garden & Gun magazine just to read her monthly column, The High and the Low.

I was born and raised in New York City, where I spent most of my life before retiring to upstate New York, but in a previous incarnation, I lived in Atlanta for eight years. I celebrated Thanksgiving weekends cheering on the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets or watching football between the hedges at the University of Georgia. I ate my fair share of “puhmenna” cheese and hot pepper jelly and had a Varsity hot dog or two.

So, I understood exactly what Julia Reed meant when she wrote:

In a city where “hors d’oeuvres” all too often mean ubiquitous skewers of dried-out chicken saté or half-cooked snow peas with an ambiguous “fish paste” piped inside, it is relatively easy to wow people, and I have yet to discover a deviled egg or a giant lump of crabmeat bathed in homemade mayonnaise that didn’t do the trick.

—from Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2008)

Now the 2014 holiday season is upon us, and in honor of Julia Reed, I’ll be drinking as much Champagne as I can get my hands on come New Year’s Eve. But once January 2nd rolls around and the post-holiday doldrums kick in, I’ll be dreaming about green grass, blue skies, 80-degree days—and this drink.

It’s my go-to summer cocktail for entertaining, and it’s adapted from Julia Reed’s Corpse Reviver No. 2. I’ve named it after Flavia de Luce, the intrepid young sleuth in Alan Bradley’s mystery series that begins with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. With the Pernod left out, the corpse is left cold… not revived.

Flavia
Adapted from But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2011)

For one drink

1 ounce fresh lime juice
1 ounce Plymouth gin
1 ounce orange liqueur (I use Mathilde XO; you can use Cointreau)
1 ounce Lillet Blanc
1 Luxardo cherry, for garnish

Shake the first four ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice until very cold. Serve in a martini glass garnished with a cherry.

Double Oatmeal Cookies

Adapted from Flavor Flours by Alice Medrich (Artisan, 2014), her brilliant gluten-free baking book.

Alice Medrich says: “Let the dough stand for at least 1 but preferably 2 hours or (better still) cover and refrigerate overnight. The flavor and texture of the cookies improve with longer chilling.” 

Since this has turned into our house cookie, I refrigerate the dough overnight every time.

Please read the recipe all the way through before you begin so you’re not surprised to find that the dry ingredients are added to the wet ingredients — which means the wet mixture must be in a bowl large enough to hold everything.

125g oat flour
190g rolled oats
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon xanthan gum (essential—do not omit)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
225–227g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
150g granulated sugar
150g packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
115g coarsely chopped walnut pieces
140g raisins

Beat the eggs with the vanilla in a small bowl.

In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients — oat flour, oats, salt, baking soda, xanthan gum, cinnamon, and nutmeg. (See Note 4 below.)

In a large bowl, stir together the melted butter and sugars. Whisk in the egg and vanilla mixture. Then add the dry ingredients and mix with a spatula for about one minute. The longer you mix, the chewier the cookies will be; for crisp cookies, stop at one minute. Then fold in the walnuts and raisins.

Cover and refrigerate the dough, preferably overnight; a 1 to 2-hour chill will do in a pinch. Before refrigerating, I divide the dough between two metal bowls because it’s easier to roll into balls when cold.

Preheat the oven to 300°F convection (what I do) or 325°F regular.

Using a cookie scoop and your hands, roll the dough into 25g balls. (I weigh each one as I go.) Place 6 cookies per parchment-lined half-sheet pan. 

Bake for 16 to 20 minutes. I bake mine for 17, but ovens vary. The cookies will be firm—not soft—but not brittle enough to shatter.

Note 1: I always preheat the oven long enough that it holds the correct temperature for at least 20 minutes before baking. Then I let the oven recover for 5 minutes before starting a new batch—the same amount of time the cookies should sit on their baking sheets before being transferred to cooling racks.

Note 2: I always use cool half-sheet pans for fresh balls of dough. I have nine half-sheet pans to rotate through.

Note 3: This recipe is gluten-free as long as the ingredients are. If you're using Bob’s Red Mill Oat Flour and want to make sure it is safely gluten-free (for instance, you will be serving the cookies to someone who is celiac), choose the one labeled gluten-free (GF) on the package.

Note 4: I like to pre-measure the oat flour, rolled oats, salt, baking soda, xanthan gum, cinnamon, and nutmeg and store them together in a jar. When I’m ready to bake, I give the mixture a thorough whisk in a medium bowl before proceeding.

Apple & Endive Salad

Adapted from The Martha Stewart Cookbook (Clarkson Potter, 1995)
Serves 6–8

Make this bright, crisp salad during the colder months, when apples and endive are at their best. It’s especially nice at Thanksgiving, when you want something fresh and easy that doesn’t add to the stress of the day.

2 heads Belgian endive
2 tart-sweet apples (such as Honeycrisp or Pink Lady)
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard (I like Edmond Fallot)
2 tablespoons vinegar (I use white balsamic)
1/4 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup mild olive oil

Trim the root end of each endive and separate the leaves. Rinse and dry gently.

Quarter and core the apples, then cut them into thin slices.

In a large bowl, whisk together the mustard, vinegar, salt, and a few grinds of pepper. Gradually whisk in the olive oil until emulsified. Add the apples and endive and toss gently to coat. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if needed. Serve immediately while crisp.