Sour Cherry Liqueur

It's officially sour cherry season! I got my first quart at the market today, and I simply can't wait to turn them into this lovely aperitif. Originally posted last July, sour cherry liqueur is back!

Want to do something awesomely cool and really flippin' easy along with me? Make sour cherry liqueur. It's the height of sour cherry season, and markets are bursting with those tart little bubbles of juice. The season's pretty short: I was thinking of hitting up a u-pick next week to get some sour cherries out in the countryside for cheap, but they said they'll be gone by Sunday. So grab some now, like, now now, and put them to use in a way that'll keep well into the fall.

My dear friend Dellie had D and me over for an early Thanksgiving dinner last November, and her mother served this liqueur as an aperitif. I was totally blown away: it was sweet, very sweet, but also tart and zingy. It tasted strongly and distinctly of sour cherries, and sipping it sent waves of summer nostalgia down my spine. I sauntered into the kitchen where I found the always-graceful Mrs. S pulling a whole turkey out of the oven to rest. What better time to bother someone for a recipe? She said to come knocking again when it was sour cherry season, and she'd give me the rundown. Unlike most other things, I didn't forget this promise, and last week, I emailed Mrs. S begging her recipe. She graciously obliged, and her instructions were so thorough that I can easily share them with you. Granted, you won't be tasting the fruits of your labor until the fall -- but if you feel like preserving some of summer's bounty in this unusual way, I can promise that your patience will be well-rewarded.

Update! I've stirred (and tasted) the sour cherry liqueur twice now, and it is freakin' amazing!

Sour Cherry Liqueur adapted from Mrs. S's recipe

For this recipe, you will need a crock of some sort: Mrs. S's crocks are salt-glazed antique crocks made in central Va. over 100 years ago, for preserving & storing foods. I'm not that fancy; I just used a relatively large ceramic pitcher. You can use anything that is dark glass or ceramic of some similar sort.

The quantities used really depend on the size of your crock, so the instructions below are in proportions instead of absolute amounts.

Cherries: clean & pit the cherries, except that for every cup of cherries, leave about 1/8 of the cup unpitted (adds character & depth to the liqueur) Sugar: use about 3/4 cup sugar for every cup of cherries (cherries should be tightly packed). I used organic cane sugar, but white sugar is just fine. In fact, I can't promise that my cane sugar will work -- I just assumed. Here's hoping!

Fill the crock 1/2 - 2/3 full of cherries & sugar (in proportions above), and stir. Then fill to the brim with white rum, and stir. Cover tightly with plastic wrap (using a rubber band to secure it) and foil (to shut out light), and store in a dark, cool place. Stir with a wooden or plastic non-reactive spoon about once a week. The sugar may take about a month or so to fully dissolve. Taste from time to time: cherries that are very sour may require additional sugar once the first batch has dissolved completely.

It should be ready mid-September. The cherries will have lost much of their color, and the sugar will have all dissolved. The flavor should be pretty rich. You can pour into decorative (dark glass) bottles and cork, but leave a few pitted cherries in each bottle. The "extra" cherries are great on pound cake, over ice cream, or however you would use canned cherries.

You could add cinnamon sticks, if you like, but Mrs. S likes the purity and simplicity of cherries.

So pack your crocks and get ready to wait -- let's do this thing!

Spicy Smoky Sour Cucumber Salad...and a Giveaway!

In my kitchen, cucumbers are always the bridesmaid, never the bride. They find their way into so many of my salads, and play supporting roles in soups and even cockails (working on a sake-ginger martini...). But still, I've never been one to swoon over a dish composed entirely of cucs. In my mind, it'd be like eating a bowl of nothing but tofu. Meh. Where's the good stuff?

I hope cucs can forgive me for overlooking their star power. In this salad, this humble combination, cucumbers need no company. In fact, what makes this salad great is that without the dominating flavors and textures of their usual salad accompaniments, the cucumbers can really shine. Their fresh crunch provides a perfect canvas for an addictively spicy dressing of lime juice, hoisin sauce, chopped scallions, and the real magic -- freshly ground chili powder. Subtlety has no place in this dish. The combination is at once sour and salty, tongue-lashingly spicy and utterly clean. Make enough for two, and I guarantee just you will eat it all.

There were several inspirations behind this salad. First, the buns at Momofuku, which come with a few slices of pickled cucumber, a dab of hoisin, and a generous squirt of sriracha. The combination is like crack, and I had it in mind in creating this dish. Second, a salad I saw this week in NYMag that combined cucumbers with lime juice and fresh chili powder, which lodged itself in my mind. Third, David Chang's ginger scallion noodles, also from Momofuku, in which the scallions essentially become the dressing. It was a brilliant idea, and the scallions in this dish have a similar effect. I could go on about what caused me to make this dish, but once you make it, you really won't care. You'll be making a B-line for the kitchen to get some more.

ALSO: After nearly three years of blogging, the time has finally come: I'm doing a giveaway on the blog! better late than never, right? The wonderful folks at Marx Foods sent over a chili sampler, which is where I got the smoked serranos for this salad. They've graciously offered to send one lucky reader a chili sampler as well. Leave a comment sharing your favorite use for chilies, and I'll pick a commenter at random on Monday, June 14th to get the sampler. Good luck -- I can't wait to hear your favorite chili recipes! Wow, you guys rock! Love these recipe ideas. Mango-jicama salad with chiles? Yes, please!

The giveaway has ended, and our lucky winner is commenter #1. Congrats, Natalie! I'll email you with the information about your free chile sampler. Enjoy, and thanks everyone for participating!

Spicy Smoky Sour Cucumber Salad serves 2, questionably

Note: The freshly ground chili is what makes this recipe great. If you use the jarred stuff, your salad may taste a bit like sawdust. Just sayin'. In terms of how much chili to use, you'll have to taste and adjust, as heat is clearly a matter of preference. I used two smoked serrano chilies, which have a moderate level of heat. They're certainly not mild. Ground, they amounted to about 1.5 teaspoons. I added the chili slowly, starting with 1/2 teaspoon and working up to the level that tasted best. You should do the same. If you want to use a milder chili, try ancho (smoked poblano) or something else smoked; that smoky flavor is key.

1 Japanese or (small) English seedless cucumber, or 3-4 small Mediterranean cucumbers; aim for 6 oz. total 1/4 cup finely chopped scallions (I needed 1 long scallion for this) 1/4 cup lime juice 1 teaspoon hoisin sauce 1 teaspoon flavorless oil, such as grapeseed or safflower 1/2-1 teaspoon freshly-ground chili (see note) 1/4 teaspoon salt, or more to taste

Combine all ingredients except cucumbers in a medium bowl, starting with 1/2 teaspoon of chili and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Taste and adjust heat and salt levels according to your preference.

Trim ends of cucumbers, and slice into thin coins, 1/8-inch thick if possible. Don't fret if some are slightly thicker than others; call it textural contrast. Add to bowl with dressing and toss to combine. That's about it. Salad will be ready to eat in about....now.

Pear Muffins with Pecan Streusel

Faced with the choice of a bells-and-whistles breakfast or more sleep, I'll take the former, any day. (See "under-eye bags.") On work days, I opt for something simple: eggs and toast, yogurt and granola, perhaps some fresh berries and a sprinkle of sugar. I save the real fuss for the weekends. But some weekends, after 5 early mornings at the gym, 5 full days at work, and 5 evenings rushing about all week long checking hundreds of things off my to-do list, I face a choice of epic weight between making something fancy and, um, doing nothing. You can see where this is going.

My laziness aside, I can't let this empty belly go hungry. Also, I can't completely neglect cooking, 'cause then what would I tell you about on Sunday night? Caught between the rock and the hard place of weekend breakfast that doesn't kill the weekend, I often turn to muffins like these.

It's a simple thing, really. Once you have a muffin recipe whose proportions are as perfect as this one, the fussing sort of falls away. Don't have pears? Add apples. or fresh berries. Or even a spoonful of jam into the center of each. Short on time? Skip the streusel. They're just great without. If you've got 20 minutes on a Sunday, make a batch. That way, when you're running out the door Monday morning with mascara on one eye and the keys buried in the depths of that Mary Poppins bag (who, me?), at least you won't go hungry.

Pear Muffins with Pecan Streusel adapted from (who else?) Karen DeMasco's Craft of Baking makes 1 dozen

For the muffins:

1 cup all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger, optional 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt 1/2 cup buttermilk 1 egg 1/2 teaspoon vanilla 3/4 cup light brown sugar 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter 1 ripe but firm pear, cored and roughly chopped

For the Streusel:

1/2 cup flour 1/3 cup cane (or white) sugar 1/3 cup coarsely chopped pecans 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1 pinch salt 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 350 and line a muffin tin with liners, or butter the tin.

Make the muffin batter: in a medium bowl, sift the dry ingredients together. In a larger bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, and vanilla.

In the bowl of a stand mixer or in a large mixing bowl using an electric mixer, beat butter and brown sugar together on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Turn the mixer down to low and begin adding the remaining ingredients: begin with 1/3 of the dry ingredients, then add 1/2 the wet ingredients, then another 1/3 of the dry, followed by the rest of the wet, and finishing with the dry. Be sure to mix after each addition. Add the pears, and mix just until incorporated.

Fill muffin cups equally: I found my normal size ice cream scoop, filled not quite all the way, was the perfect size.

Now, make the streusel: combine all ingredients in a small bowl, and use your fingers to break the butter into the dry ingredients. When mixture has formed some coarse and some fine crumbs, sprinkle it over muffins. Bake 25-30 minutes, until muffins are golden brown. Transfer to a rack to cool completely.

Cucumber-Avocado Soup

No food-friendly home is without its strange culinary rituals, and mine is no exception. Just ask a recent house guest, who during her 3-day stay caught me in the kitchen before 7 am in wet hair and a bathrobe on two separate occasions, cooking not eggs and toast as the normal people do, but strawberry-chili jam and walnut chocolate chip cookies. I like making elaborate things early in the morning; I'm a total weirdo.

Take another odd ritual in chez NDP: when summer rolls around, I start awkwardly hoarding empty yogurt tubs, filling them as quickly as possible with all sorts of cold summer soups: white gazpacho and chilled corn soup and more. Why I can't use tupperware like the rest of earthlings, I don't know. All I know is that cold soup ladled from recycled yogurt tubs on a hot and humid summer day makes me grin big.

Here, then, is my first chilled soup of the summer, one that has already made its (very temporary) home in a yogurt tub. It's inspired by a soup my friend Beth made last weekend, which was creamy and smooth, yet seemed almost whipped, it was so light and airy. The key, of course, is to make it in a blender. Its ingredients are few -- cucumbers and avocado, yogurt and jalapeno, perhaps some chives -- but bowls of the stuff would be lovely garnished with any number of things. I've done yogurt and more chopped chives, and I'm particularly excited about topping my next bowl with some quartered cherry tomatoes.

Chilled soup provides such easy reprieve from the heat, I'll be making it regularly through August. Stay tuned for more recipes, and as always, feel free to share your own in the comments!

Cucumber Avocado Soup serves 4-6

2 avocados, preferably Hass, halved and roughly chopped 1 English (seedless) long cucumber, halved lengthwise and sliced coarsely 1 jalapeno pepper, chopped (with seeds), more to taste 1 cup yogurt (I used greek, but any will do) salt and pepper to taste 5-6 fresh chives, chopped

Combine all ingredients in a blender, starting with just half of the jalapeno and reserving 2-3 sprigs chives and 1/4 cup yogurt for garnish. Add 1/8 cup water to get the blending started, then blend on medium until completely smooth. Taste, and add salt, pepper, and more jalapeno to taste.

Refrigerate at least 1 hour.

To serve, fill bowls and garnish with yogurt, chives, chopped cherry tomatoes, or anything else that suits your fancy.