Brewer's itch

Here we are--the second beverage related post in one day. It never rains but it pours, I guess.

I’ve been concocting again. It happens periodically, which is funny, because it used be an incessant state. I spent the better part of my college years in the kitchen, bottling beer and tending bubbling crocks of kraut and kombucha. Fermentation itself became an obsession (perhaps at the point when the kombucha mother colonized my central nervous system), and my habit reigned unchecked until a roommate drew the line at the vat of fermenting dumpster-dived bagels mouldering in a corner. The intended delicacy was a variation on kvass, the sour Russian breadcrust-based beverage. (Didn’t make it onto anyone’s list of three, I notice...) Among my prouder creations were a strong, Belgian Abbey style ale made from scratch with a healthy dose of dark maple syrup, a peach-ginger mead that could have passed for champagne, and a dark, half-sour ale that fueled another roommate’s mania for a month straight.
Like most of my obsessions that one eventually simmered down, though a bubble of lingering enthusiasm will rise the surface periodically and inspire me to get out the big brew pot or the mammoth mortar and pestle. The latest resurgence was spurred by a reference I came across recently to a liqueur made by suspending an orange above spirits in a closed jar. I loved the image and the promise of such a subtle infusion, and before I knew it I had filled half a dozen jars with a variety of alcoholic extracts ranging from syrupy to medicinal. My favorite so far is inspired by an Italian drain-cleaner strength digestive liquore called Cent’erbe (‘one hundred herbs’) that my father brought back from Italy once upon a time (he also once notoriously made a batch of garlic vodka, so perhaps these tendencies are genetic). The stuff was bright green and, at 80% abv, tended to peel a layer off your eyeballs. In high school we’d sneak a few ounces of it from the liquor cabinet, and mixed with in a Ninja turtles water bottle with grapefruit juice was enough to lubricate an entire teenage night on the town. The current version, which features a little of every aromatic herb I could find within a two minute walk of my house, promises to live up to its grandaddy in all but proof--100 proof vodka was the strongest base I could find. (The lady at the Price Chopper liquor department was mighty emphatic, too, when she informed me that no, they did not carry pure grain alcohol.) That one is clearly on the medicinal end of the spectrum, but even further out there is a cordial featuring traditional digestive and heart-tonic herbs: hawthorn berry, cardamom, and saffron. It’s cognac-base, and it’s going to get some honey after the infusion is complete. Should digest anything within five miles, including your stomach lining if you’re not careful.
The beauty of liquors, cordials, etc. is how easy they are to make. You can go from concept to execution in about 5 minutes--if you discount the few days, weeks or months it takes for the flavors to infuse and mellow out. The idea is the same as making an herbal tincture, only here the concentrations are much less intense. Basically, you take whatever you’re doing the flavoring with, put it in a jar, and pour some vodka, brandy, rum, or whatever over it. Taste periodically, and strain when you deem it strong enough. Sweeten if you like with simple syrup or honey. You can even add cream; the alcohol should preserve it. Other liquers currently liqueuring on my shelf include blackberry, coffee, and a bitter orange digestive. I’d offer up samples from the website, but Mac hasn’t made that technology public yet.

On a soberer note, one reason I’m confident that I’ve found my niche with herbal medicine is that it manages to integrate so many of the obsessions or hobbies I’ve nurtured over the course of my life: everything from foraging to gardening to cooking and brewing to collecting hot sauces (that was sixth grade?) fits neatly into the fold of traditional medicine. Meanwhile, doing it all for the sake of health puts a more positive spin on inclinations that could easily be put to less than wise use. In some parallel universe, perhaps, I might be running a meth lab right now.

Cent’erbe

ingredients:

-modest sprigs of eight or more fresh aromatic herbs, such as peppermint, basil, thyme, sage, rosemary, mugwort, marjoram, bee balm, hyssop, and fennel

-high-proof neutral grain alcohol. vodka is fine, but at least 100-proof is preferable. If you have access to Everclear or other really strong stuff, dilute it down to 65-80%.

Pick the herbs and put them in a clean jar that has a tight-fitting lid, such as a mason jar. Pour the spirits over them, stir or shake to get them wet, cap, and put somewhere out of direct light. Shake it up each day and start smelling/tasting it every day after the second or third day. Adjust herb amounts if necessary by adding more of things--you don’t want any one flavor to predominate. It should smell good and pungent, almost like turpentine. Strain and bottle, diluting with more alcohol and/or water if necessary. Will probably improve with age.

Fuoco Dell' Etna

This is an approximation of a souvenir liquor I brought back from the slopes of the active volacni Mount Etna, in Sicily. In seven or eight years my family never managed to get through the tiny novelty-sized bottle, so I used it to tincture up some bloodroot, an herb with a similarly firey character.

ingredients:

vodka or high-proof alcohol
atomic fireballs or other red, cinnamon-flavored candy

Soak/dissolve fireballs in the booze. put on a high shelf and forget about it.


(apologies for the lack of photos here--I just don't have any good shots of people drinking awful firewater floating around. I'll make up for it soon, however. )