Cocktail Hour, a webcomic by Scraps

I’ve had my head buried in alcohol history and lore, lately, and in the most recent reading, the Toddy came up. With the beginnings of a nip in the air (okay, so it’s our annual Fall cool snap that will disappear soon, but let a girl dream) the Toddy sounded like an excellent subject to tackle instead of whatever else I’d been thinking of for ‘t’.

Toddies are an old, old, old drink and, in their original form, were nothing more than water and liquor, with maybe some sugar added. They’re not much different now, with the addition of some sort of spice and maybe a bit of lemon to round things out.

I read a lot as a child and when you tend to read old books, that take place centuries prior and maybe in other countries, it’s easy to develop some fanciful notions about toddies and, especially, their healing properties as they were often given to characters who’d come town with a cold or had gotten caught in a terrible storm while on their horse. So, several years ago, when coming down with yet another case of something or other, I decided to try a Toddy to see if it would help. Of course, I didn’t have brandy in the house, but I could have sworn I’d read about someone using Bourbon, and I had that, so I brewed some tea (tea used to be considered a spice, by the way), adding a cinnamon stick, a lemon slice, some honey and a shot of bourbon to it.

It wasn’t exactly what I’d thought it would be.

Whether it was the harshness of the Bourbon (which I generally keep around for cooking with, not drinking) or the bitterness of the tea–or both–the drink needed a lot of sweetening before it was palatable and it just wasn’t the pleasant, soothing experience I had hoped for.

This go round, wiser and with a better-stocked bar, I skipped the tea, used brandy (okay, I used a brandy-based liqueur–Tuaca–that I knew I liked) and used simple syrup for my sweet. I also just used a lemon twist instead of a lemon slice, and I think it makes a difference.

Tuaca Toddy

1.5 oz Tuaca liqueur (an Italian brandy-based liqueur with hints of vanilla and citrus)
.5 oz Simple syrup
1 Lemon peel, 2″ long
dash of Cloves
2.5 oz Hot water

In a mug or other handled glass (this is warm, remember?) combine the Tuaca (or the brandy of your choice)  and syrup. Twist the lemon peel (try not to get too much pith when you shave it away from the fruit) to release the oils and drop it in, followed by a sprinkling of ground cloves (you could use nutmeg, if you prefer, or even cinnamon but I’d stick to a little and not use the stick–it can be too strong). Top the drink off with the very hot (not quite boiling) water, stir it around a bit and drink when the temperature is level enough not to scald your tongue.

Even though this is a favorite home remedy for colds and chills in many areas, keep in mind that alcohol can dehydrate you so you should supplement it with plenty of plain water if you choose to try this at home.

* * *

And speaking of health, a gentle reminder that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month and I’m still raising funds for my local Making Strides Against Breast Cancer campaign. “Support the tWINs” (the team I’m on) through my support link and get a special print. More details at the link, and thank you.

It’s been 3 1/2 years since I’ve had any sort of tomato-based sauce*. Do you know how many foods contain tomato sauce, paste or both? It’s been a long 42 months.

The why of this has to do with an unfortunate hiccup in my health and there’s many other things I’ve had to eliminate (caffeine, for one) or cut way back on over the years but concentrated tomatoey goodness has been one of the things I’ve missed the most. Over time I’ve gotten to the point where I can tolerate a slice or two of fresh tomato on a salad or sandwich (once a week or so) without illness but it’s not the same.  I’ve wondered for a while if there was a way I could “fake” a red sauce for spaghetti, pizza, etc. but never tried it until a few weeks ago with a red bell pepper sauce that has improved my personal food landscape many times over.

Since that first foray over whole wheat spaghetti, we’ve used it on stuffed (green) bell peppers, a delicious lasagna and, now, pizza with wonderful results. It doesn’t taste exactly like tomato sauce, but with careful seasoning there’s usually only a taste or two per meal where the switch is readily apparent.

Red Pepper Sauce

5 red bell peppers, diced, or 2 jars roasted red peppers, drained and chopped
4 green onions, sliced
3 cloves (or more) garlic, minced
1/2 Tbsp paprika
1/2-3/4 c Chicken stock
Olive oil, salt and pepper

Saute the onions and garlic in oil until the whites of the onions are translucent. Add the rest of the ingredients and simmer until the peppers are tender: 20 minutes or more if using fresh peppers, 10 or so if using canned–gives it time to absorb the other flavors. Add salt and pepper to taste along with any other spices you want. Puree everything smooth (a stick blender makes this so much easier) and then re-season if necessary.

That’s the basic sauce recipe. The jarred peppers are a good substitute for when fresh are either unavailable or cost-prohibitive, plus they cut down your cooking time. What spices you add will depend on what you’re using the sauce on. For Italian, add the usual oregano, thyme, basil and whatever else you like.

You can stretch the sauce by using more stock–we like ours thick for most things, but if you like a thinner sauce  go up to a cup and a quarter of stock and this recipe will make about a quart of sauce (depends on how much water is in the peppers, too), thicker it might be closer to a pint. It freezes wonderfully, so you can definitely make up a big batch when peppers are plentiful (you can also use some yellows in there, too, it just makes the sauce a little more orange) and put it away for later.

We’d been planning to try it out as a pizza sauce but hadn’t gotten around to it when we had the following conversation, Thursday night:

Todd: I got some extra roasted red peppers if we wanted to make more of that sauce.

Jenn: Ooh, yeah, we haven’t tried it on pizza yet. Maybe we could do that this weekend?

Todd: (looking at his place which included grilled naan) I wonder if you could make naan-pizza.

Jenn: Why not? Mmm, Indian spices in the sauce–what toppings would we use?

Todd: Lamb?

So, Saturday we headed out for provisions: more naan, lamb, and some goat cheese. The end result was an amazing pizza that was way more filling that we thought it would be.

Naan Pizza
Serves 4

1 cup Red Pepper Sauce seasoned with cumin, coriander, garam masala, and a touch of mint and cinnamon
1 pkg Naan (2 pieces per package)
Olive oil
3/4 lb lamb, ground or cut into small chunks
Flour for dusting
1/2 lb sugar snap peas, chopped
1/2 c diced red onion
Minced garlic
Salt and pepper
4 oz cream cheese, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 oz crumbed goat cheese

Preheat your over to 375 degrees Fahrenheit and line a backing sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat. Lay out the naan and drizzle with a bit of olive oil, salt and some granulated garlic, if you like. Divide the Red Pepper Sauce evenly between the two naan and top with some more minced garlic.

Season the lamb with salt and pepper and, if using whole meat instead of ground, dredge it lightly in flour. I happened to have some Pani Puri (semolina flour) left over from an Andalusian feast I did a while back so I used that, but any flour should do. Saute in olive oil until browned, then add peas and onion and cook until the lamb is done. Divide this mixture between the two naan. Divide the two cheeses evenly among the pizzas.

Bake the pizzas about 15 minutes or until the cheese has started to melt and brown on the tips. Goat and cream cheeses don’t really melt the way mozzarella does, so you have to trust the browning rather than the smoothing out that you usually get on a pizza.

We served it with a bit of prepared Tabbouleh on some mixed lettuces. You can, of course, try other meats or just a combination of veggies on this and it would be equally good. I think that adding a bit of yogurt to the pepper sauce would make a wonderful curry sauce, too, with just a bit more seasoning.

*That is to say, without becoming ill–unfortunately I’ve been reminded the hard way of just how many things contain enough tomato paste or sauce to cause a reaction.

So much for the cold snap! While it may be snowing in parts of the US, in Florida it was triple digits and the only way to make that sort of heat bearable is with something cold and slushy. Enter the frozen beverages most often served with a cute little umbrella perched on top.

I don’t think it’s out of line to claim that the Pina Colada is the most often thought-of drink that comes with one of those petite parasols and, when we were getting ready for our cruise (yes, I’m totally milking that trip for every ounce of happiness and material possible) I read about a drink called the Miami Vice: half Pina Colada, half Strawberry Daiquiri. Yum!

Now, most folks would just pull out the rum and the pre-made mixes to go with the ice and the blender, but fresh is almost always better so here’s a version of each that will put you in a tropical mood no matter what your climate:

Pina Colada for 1

4 oz Pineapple juice
2 oz coconut cream
1/2 c pineapple chunks
2 Tbsp shredded or grated coconut
1 oz Pineapple rum
1 oz Dark rum
1 oz cream or half-and-half
2 c ice

Combine all ingredients and blend until smooth.

Strawberry Frozen Daiquiri for 1

1 c Strawberries, hulled and halved if fresh
1 oz White rum
1 oz Dark rum
2 c ice

Combine and blend until smooth.

Now, a few notes. Coconut cream is not the same as coconut milk, you may have to search for the cream. If you use just the coconut milk that you’d normally cook with the drink will be lacking in a bit of flavor and smoothness but it can be done (using coconut rum might help the flavor aspect). If strawberries are out of season, use frozen, or if they just don’t have a full flavor, adding a shot of strawberry pucker–yes, really–can help the overall flavor and it’s still better than using a mix.

To make the Miami Vice, pour the Pina Colada and Strawberry Daiquiri simultaneously into a tall glass. Garnish with a pineapple chunk on one side, a strawberry on the other, and–of course–a cute little umbrella, if you have one handy.

Tis the season, no? Pumpkin patches are springing up in grocery stores, church yards, street corners and even honest-to-goodness farms so that everyone can pick the number one pumpkin for carving. But what about pumpkins for cooking? Is it worth it to make your own versus using canned? Only you can decide that, but if you’re wanting to try making a pumpkin pie (or anything else) from the ground up, here’s some tips to get you through it.

When picking a pumpkin to carve, most people look for big ones with smooth skin (unless you’re going for a special jack-o-lantern effect), even shape and enough stem to make a good handle. But for baking, the stem is about the only thing in common–a generous stem prevents the pumpkin from spoiling. Overall, though, bigger isn’t often better, as the larger pumpkins tend to have less flavor and more water compared to the more compact pie pumpkins you’ll find in the produce section.

Treat a pumpkin like you would any whole squash. If it’s compact enough you can pierce it a few times and pop it in the microwave, whole, like you would an acorn squash. About 5 minutes on high should be enough for a the smaller pie pumpkins, going up from there. Or you can cut it into halves or quarters, scoop out the stringy bits and seeds and bake them, cut side down, for an hour at 350 F. You can also boil the pieces until tender.

Scoop the flesh away from the skin and then mash or puree it to break up any fibers and make it easier to blend into your recipe of choice. Most pumpkins will yield about a cup of flesh per pound of pre-cooked pumpkin.

Don’t toss those seeds! Clean them well and then roast them on an oiled cookie sheet at 325 F  for about 20 minutes or until golden brown. You can salt them, sugar them or toss them with a variety of herbs and spices for a healthy, crunchy treat.