The Impatient Chef Cocktail Concoction: The Modified Moscow Mule

The Moscow Mule is all the rage these days, and I have to admit that I like them.  The problem is that I suck them down way too fast.  They go down like, well, ginger ale.  A local Distillery, one that I have no problem shamelessly plugging every chance I get, called New Deal Distillery, that resides in Portland, Oregon, has a Ginger Liqueur, and a fine vodka.  Now, I have no use for vodka in anything other than the Moscow Mule and pie crust, but it's okay in the Mule.  New Deal puts a Moscow Mule recipe on its bottle, and it consists of lime squeezin's, vodka, Ginger Liqueur, and soda water.  You can find the recipe here, or buy a bottle to get it (preferred).  I started thinking about how to make this into a cocktail rather than a fizz.  Here's what I came up with:

Ingredients:

2 oz Vodka (New Deal Portland Vodka works well)
2 oz New Deal Ginger Liqueur
1 oz fresh lime juice
raw sugar + boiling water (see directions), or 1/2 to 3/4 oz simple syrup (depending on your taste)

Directions:

In a measured shot glass, add raw sugar to the 1/2 oz mark.  If it is coarse raw sugar, fill it slightly higher.  Fill with water to the 1 oz mark.  Microwave for about 20 seconds.  Less may be necessary.  You just want it to be warm enough to dissolve the sugar.  Stir to dissolve.  Set aside while making the rest.
In a cocktail shaker, add the lime juice, vodka, and Ginger Liqueur.  Add ice.  Then add the sugar water.
Shake until the shaker is frosted.
Serve in a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a twist of lime.

Tasting notes.
This is not a sweet cocktail.  The New Deal Ginger Liqueur packs a whollop.  The sugar mellows it a little.  It's a sipping cocktail like I wanted.  It's a little puckery because of the lime, and the ginger is real, and pronounced.  It passed my wife's "Oh my God, it's good" test.

Enjoy.

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Beer Butt Chicken

Well, folks.  There comes that time in a chef's life that all pretensions must be thrown aside, and we have to try a recipe just because it's funny.  However, a question that these discerning home chefs have asked for decades is thus:  Does inserting a beer can into the nether regions of a chicken do anything for the flavor?

The answer:  In a word, no.  

But, what if there was a way to make it work?  Fortunately, there is.  

The traditional way to cook this somewhat humiliated bird in the beer can fashion is to empty out half of the beer, and fill the can the rest of the way with italian dressing.  After it finished bubbling out of the can, it is inserted into the chicken, and baked standing up. 

I propose three changes to this recipe:

1. Make homemade Italian dressing.  You can tailor it to the needs of your bird.  Hint: extra salt and garlic.
2. Add dressing to the half can of beer you poured out.  Loosen the skin of the chicken, and pour it through, letting the excess drip into the pan.
3. Cover your bird with foil to keep the flavor in.  Baste it on occasion with the liquid.
4. I lied.  There are four changes.  Get a good beer.  A hoppy IPA would be profoundly better than a mass-marketed lager. 

Tools:  

• Blender 
• Aluminium foil 
• Baking twine 
• A high-sided roasting pan, or iron skilley
• An oven with some head room 
• A two-cup measuring cup 
• A sense of humor

Ingredients:

• 1 cup white wine vinegar
• 1 cup vegetable oil (grapeseed or canola)
• 1 tbsp salt
• 1 tbsp oregano
• 1 tbsp basil
• 1 tbsp tarragon
• 1 tsp marjoram
• 1 tsp thyme
• 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
• 1 tsp Old Bay Seasoning
• 1 tsp mustard (as an emulsifant) 
• 7 cloves garlic
• 1 16 oz can of beer (IPA, or other flavorful beer)
• 1 chicken (preferably deceased and plucked)

Directions:

The day before you want to bake the bird, make the dressing.  
Add all of the ingredients except for the oil, beer, and bird to a blender, and blend until the garlic is minced.  With the blender still on medium speed, open the lid, and slowly pour the oil into it to create an emulsion.  Refrigerate overnight to let the flavors mellow and blend.  

On baking day, 

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  
2. Pour half of the beer into a 2 cup measuring cup (or any container with a pouring spout) with room to add half of the dressing, and, of course, add half of the dressing.  You may have to stir it first it it has separated.  Then stir the beer / dressing mixture briefly.
3. Add the other half of the dressing to the remaining beer in the can.
4. Loosen the skin on the chicken in as many places as you can by pulling in back, and sliding your hand in, and working it until there is a cavity between the flesh and skin that will hold liquid (or at least the solids).  
5. Over the roasting pan, insert the beer can containing half of the beer/dressing mixture up the chicken’s cavity.  Feel momentarily embarrassed for the poor little guy.  Place it standing up in the baking tray  or iron skillet.  
6. Over your roasting pan, pour the dressing/beer mixture in the measuring cup through the chicken skin in as many places as possible.  It’s okay if a lot of the liquid ends up in the tray.  
7. Use the baking twine to force the poor little guy to stand up in the pan or skillet.  Cover loosely with aluminum foil.  I used four toothpicks (blunted on one end) around the top to hold the foil away from the bird.  I stuck them in at 45degree angles, and laid the foil over top, making sure that there was no place for the steam to escape.  Seal the foil tightly around the pan as well.  How tight you can make the seal with the foil is the key to this recipe.  
   
   
   
   
8. Bake until the internal temperature is about 150 degrees.  Remove from the oven.  Remove the foil, and increase the temperature to 450 degrees.  Place back in the oven and bake until the internal temperature is 165 degrees.  This should be enough to make the skin nice and crispy.  
9. Remove the poor little bugger from the oven, and remove the beer can.  Carve and enjoy. 
   
   
   
   

Unlike Beer Butt Chickens I've had in the past, this one was moist, and flavorful.  That hoppy aroma came through, and the herbs have it a pleasant flavor.  This is definitely an improvement on the concept.  It's not just for show.  

Enjoy!

--The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Cocktail Recipe: The Bitter Old Man

So, The Impatient Chef ran out of his favorite cocktail gin on Thursday.  Friday evening rolled around, and the medicine cabinet still was a bit bare in the gin department.  Not only that, but the cocktail books did not reveal anything that looked appealing without a good gin.   Did that stop The Impatient Chef?  

Almost.

But, necessity is the mother of invention, and there was a liquor that I wanted to try, and I actually had it.

It’s called “Torani Amer”.  Not to be confused with the Torani syrups you may order in your latte, this is a tad astringent, and a little bitter.  I bought it a few years ago for a drink that I never got around to making.  Sans gin, I still couldn’t make it.  

What next? 

Invent a cocktail.

First the base spirit.  I was considering Old Tom Gin, or Laird’s Applejack. I smelled the various ingredients, and went with Applejack.  The drink would have three bitter parts: Torani Amer, Green Chartreuse, and Orange Bitters, and then the name struck me.  It would be called The Bitter Old Man.  Laird’s Applejack is a very old spirit, but Old Tom Gin would have worked with the name as well.  

Here Goes:

Ingredients:

• 2 oz Laird’s Applejack
• 1/2 oz Torani Amer
• 1/2 oz fresh orange juice
• 1 oz Lillet Blanc
• 1 bar spoon Parfait Amour
• 3 dashes orange bitters
• 3 dashes Green Chartreuse
• Lemon juice
• Lemon peel

Directions:

1. Even though this has orange juice in it, I decided to stir it instead of shake it.  So stir everything but the lemon juice and peel with ice, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Cut a lemon in half, and squeeze it briefly over the cocktail, getting perhaps 10 drops.  Garnish with a twist of lemon.  
2. This cocktail is not for the faint of heart, not because it tastes strange, or weird.  It does taste similar to other cocktails I have had.  Where it is quite different, and where fans of dark chocolate, black coffee, and the negroni will perk up and listen, the aftertaste changes flavors at least three times, getting more bitter and astringent for about 10 seconds.  It isn’t overwhelming, but it’s a noticeable, and interesting sensation. 
3. Enjoy if you dare.