The Lush Chef

Fernet-Branca, your favorite bartender's libation of choice at the end of the night.  You've probably seen a ton of them shot this dark brown spirit back and wondered what the appeal is.  Perhaps it's the minty flavor (which actually comes from the saffron), the bracing feel ones gets after downing a shot, or the cure to a hangover, but whatever it is, Fernet-Branca has been having a huge moment over the past couple of years.  It truly became popularized a few years ago by bartenders in San Francisco when there was a huge marketing push in the area, and the obsession has since spread across the country.

This bitter amaro was created by Bernardino Branca in Milan in 1845.  He created this fake persona of a doctor named Fernet to tout it as a cure-all to all sorts of maladies, primarily indigestion.  It contains about 27 different kinds of herbs, plants and roots, which include aloe, gentian root, cinchona bark, cinnamon, galangal, chamomile, myrrh, linden flowers, elderflower, possibly wormwood, and the aforementioned saffron.  Apparently, Fratelli Branca, the company that produced the libation uses 75% of the world's saffron.  The spirit is aged for at least one year in oak barrels and has a very dark brown color.  If you're still new to the world of amari, I wouldn't recommend drinking this as a shot.  Have it mixed in a cocktail, or instead of bitters in your Old Fashioned, put a few drops of Fernet-Branca in there instead.

It's a new year, and it's been ages since I've done a Libation Education, so time to learn something new, lushes!  Amari, or Italian bitter liqueurs are having a huge love fest in the US right now.  They can either be mixed in cocktails or sipped as a digestivo (either neat or on the rocks) after dinner.  There are a ton of different kinds of amari out there and I could easily do post after post on all the various kinds.  Campari is one of the more recognizable ones, but Averna is starting to catch up in terms of name recognition and popping up in a lot of cocktails.  Cynar is also another amaro that I've talked about on this site and that I simply adore.

It's unclear when this exact recipe was created, as various Cistercian and Cluniac friars were producing it as a therapeutic tonic throughout Europe.  Salvatore Averna, after whom this amaro is named, was a benefactor of the Convent of St. Spirito's Abbey in Sicily, and as a form of thanks, the friars bequeathed him with the recipe in 1859.  In 1868, he started producing it for his household guests (lucky guests).  His son Francesco really started promoting the liqueur at fairs around Italy, and it became pretty well-known around the country and was receiving royal awards by 1895.  In 1912, Vittorio Emanuele III bestowed it with the royal coat of arms and it became the official supplier of the Royal Household.

Averna is a combination of bitter roots, herbs and citrus rinds that is infused in alcohol, with caramel added afterwards.  Of course the recipe is a secret, but it does have a distinctive flavor when you stack it up against Campari and Cynar.  It's the sweetest out of the three, so if this is your first time hopping on the amaro bandwagon, this is a good one to start with.  If you're looking for a fairly simple cocktail to start making, try my twist on The Last Word by substituting Averna for the maraschino liqueur.  I call it the Italian's Last Word and it's perfect for any time of year.

It's been quite some time since I've done a Libation Education, but don't worry lushes, because I have a few coming down the pipeline.  My home bar has been steadily growing over the past year and a half, and these things take time.

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago in my posting for the Italian's Last Word cocktail about my obsession with Green Chartreuse.  You might remember it as that weird liqueur you'd occasionally see on a cocktail menu, or that bottle gathering dust on the back of the bar.  Well, this monastic libation is finally shedding its cloak and having a total revival. 

Why is it that monks make such good alcohol?  Beer, wine, Frangelico and who knows what else.  Back in 1605, the order of the Carthusian monks in Vauvert, near Paris, received a gift of an ancient manuscript for an elixir from a Marshal of King Henri IV's artillery.  The recipe was nicknamed the "Elixir of Long Life" and was created by an alchemist who blended about 130 herbs and flowers to create a healing tonic.  The manuscript was eventually sent to La Grande Chartreuse, the head monastery located in the mountains of the same name near Grenoble, to be studied.  Thanks to Frère Jerome Maubec, he finally translated the manuscript in 1737 and wrote up the formula.  From there, the monks started making the "Elixir Vegetal de la Grande-Chartreuse" and selling small bottles of it in nearby towns.  In 1764, the monks started to realize that people were enjoying the elixir as a beverage as opposed to just a medicine, and made a slightly lower-proof version at 110 (still pretty high!).  Sound familiar?  The history of the liqueur is actually really fascinating - religion and politics nearly squashed it's existence, but it persevered.

Green Chartreuse stakes a claim that it's the only naturally green liqueur, and it gets that color from all the chlorophyll from those 130 plants.  The herbs and flowers are all macerated with a neutral spirit and then distilled and aged for about five years in oak casks.  It has a sweet and slightly vegetal flavor, with hints of citrus, thyme, rosemary, clove and cinnamon.  There's also Yellow Chartreuse, a sweeter and more mild cousin at 80 proof, that was developed in 1838.  It also gets its natural yellow color from all the plants and flowers macerated in there.  The flavor still has hints of citrus, but also some honey and lavendar.  You can drink either of these liqueurs straight, on the rocks or mixed in with cocktails (I prefer the latter).  Check out this site next Thursday when I'll be posting another cocktail recipe with this holy and healthy tonic.   

St. Patrick has blessed us this year by having his namesake holiday fall on a Saturday, so of course I'll be out celebrating.  I'm a wee bit Irish, live within walking distance to a slew of Irish pubs and call myself the Lush Chef.  How could I not?  It's also Blue Moon's birthday, so I'll be bringing some form of baked goods to the bar (it's also a quick way to make friends with bartenders and get a good seat!).  If you're looking to do the same, the Lush Chef has some yummy ideas for you to honor St. Patrick's Day.  But before we get started, let's get a little libation education out of the way so you're fully prepared for the big day.

Bailey's Irish Cream: It's creamy, it's delicious in hot and cold drinks and has a suspiciously long shelf life.

Ale vs Stout: Equally tasty, but not the same and will make a world of difference if you mix up the two in recipes.

Irish Whiskey vs American Whiskey:  Let's honor St. Patty by sticking with Irish Whiskey on this day.

Now that we got the lessons out of the way, on to the food...

Cheddar Beer Bread: Start off your morning the right way with this quick and easy beer bread.  I recommend baking with a light beer or pale ale, and use an Irish cheddar to show your proper respects.

Guinness & White Cheddar Spread: Yes, I'm keeping up with the beer and cheddar theme, because they just go so well together.  There's only a little bit of beer in this spread, so you won't get tipsy—it will probably end up helping you soak up all that alcohol you've been imbibing.  It's also ridiculously addictive, so bring a secret stash to the pub...

Beef & Guinness Short Ribs: If you're hosting a dinner party and have time to cook something low and slow, then I highly recommend making these short ribs. You can even fork off all the meat and serve them as sliders.

























Chocolate & Pretzel-Covered Beer Marshmallows: You now have all this stout in your house, so what's a Lush Chef to do besides drink it?  These stout-laced marshmallows are kicked up another notch by being doused in milk chocolate and pretzel pieces.


Cupcake time!  The Lush Chef will be rolling into a pub with a box of these to pass out amongst friends and bring a little St. Patrick's Day cheer.

Bailey's Irish Cream Cupcakes: These fluffy vanilla cupcakes have a Bailey's Irish Cream buttercream frosting and pack a boozy punch.

Guinness Chocolate Cupcakes: The recipe for these chocolate cupcakes calls for stout in both the cake and the frosting.  I also got a little creative last year and shot some vanilla and cinnamon whipped cream through the middle.  It's like the Irish version of a hostess cupcake.

When I moved to California from chilly Michigan, I found out that many of my friends had never tasted, or even heard of ice wine.  While one can certainly buy it out here, California obviously doesn't make it.  Most ice wine is made in Germany (you may have seen it labeled "eiswein"), Canada (primarily Ontario), Michigan and some areas in New York.  What is ice wine and how is it different from other wines?  It's a sweet dessert wine and it's freakin' good, that's what.

The grapes are harvested when they've been iced up and frozen on the vine, which allows a more concentrated and sweet grape juice when pressed.  Only the water freezes in the grapes and not the sugars and dissolved solids, so they're still healthy when harvested.  They really don't experience what's called "noble rot" or "Botrytis" where the grapes go through a minor rot and drying when they're ripe.  Those Botrytized grapes are used for other kinds of dessert wines like Sauternes.

Because such a small amount of concentrated grape juice is pressed from these frozen grapes, ice wines tend to be on the pricey side.  If a winter has light snow and minor freezing, this can drastically affect a region's ice wine harvest.  Michigan is actually experiencing this right now, so expect those 2012 ice wine bottles to be expensive...


Because the Lush Chef's parents hit up a lot of Michigan and Canadian wineries (this little grape doesn't fall far from the vine), they always have a nice selection of ice wines on hand.  The wines in the first picture are from from Reif Estates and Kittling Ridge in Ontario.  Yes, there's such thing as Ice Wine & Brandy and it packs a punch—it's also one of my favorite dessert wines ever.  The last one is a Fenn Valley Ice Wine near Grand Rapids, Michigan.  We cracked open this bottle of Fenn Valley Vidal Blanc Ice Wine during the holidays and it was a perfect end for a post-Christmas dinner.

Since I've started blogging about cooking and cocktails, it's been amazing how much I've learned in the past 6 months or so.  This endeavor began as a way for me to expand my creative boundaries and gain some knowledge in the process.  So when I got a beautiful bottle of Bols Barrel Aged Genever in the mail from their lovely publicist, I couldn't wait to try it and share the knowledge and results with my readers.

You may have seen Bols Genever on cocktail menus, and wondered what the heck it is.  Jenever or Genever is a juniper-flavored liquor made primarily from malt wine, and is actually the libation that gin originated from.  Hailing from Holland, it's a distillate made from rye, wheat and corn and is triple distilled in copper pot stills.  The unique spiced flavor comes from a blend of hops, cloves, anise, licorice, ginger and of course, juniper. Back in the olden days (Bols Genever goes all the way back to 1575), the distilling process resulted in rather unpalatable concoctions, so the herbs were added to mask the taste.  Because of the medicinal properties of juniper berries, Bols Genever was first sold as a medicine in the late 16th century.  In 2007, it was awarded AOC (Appellation d'Origine Controllée) status, so Genever can only be produced in Holland and some select neighboring areas.  

The barrel aged version I received was aged for 18 months in oak barrels form the French Limousin region.  The maturing results in a slightly sweet taste and maintains some of those young wood flavors.  I also love the way it's packaged—in grey clay jugs.  Basically, if you're looking for a twist on a whiskey cocktail, you can substitute this.  It's yummy in Manhattans and Mint Juleps, or you can sip it straight or as an aperitif.  It's a great starter liquor for those who aren't big fans of brown libations—the sweetness factor helps one ease in.

Fall is here, so its seems appropriate that this month's libation education focuses on Applejack (no, not the cereal).  If apples and whiskey had a baby, this is what it would be.  Made by Laird & Company, which has been around since 1780, Applejack consists of 35% apple brandy and 65% neutral spirits that have a hint of apple and aroma.  According to a recent post on The Kitchn, Laird & Company was actually granted a federal license during Prohibition to make it for "medicinal purposes."  Mmm hmm...

This delicious libation is made at the peak of apple harvest, which is usually September until mid-November.  The pure apple juice is fermented naturally (it doesn't need any kind of yeast or starter) in big oak fermenting tanks for 7-30 days until all of the sugar has been fermented into alcohol.  The juice is then sent to the still where the distillation boosts the proof to about 160, where it ensures the maximum flavor and aroma.  After this, the apple brandy is cut with water and aged in oak barrels for 4-8 years.  Applejack tends to be made with a younger blend of this brandy (about 4-6 years).

Applejack is a lovely fall substitute for your traditional whiskey cocktails like Old Fashioneds and Manhattans, and I bet it would be killer mixed into a Hot Toddy or hot spiced cider.  It's also a main ingredient in American Trilogies, but you're all just going to have to wait for that recipe...

One of my favorite spring/summer liqueurs is St. Germain, a golden-colored French libation made from elderflower blossoms.  Aww, heck—who are we kidding?  I drink this stuff with my girl friends all year-round, as evidenced by the nearly empty (and very pretty) bottle above.  Yeah...that's my second bottle of the year.  What I love about St. Germain is how incredibly subtle it is, which lends to its versatility.  The flavor is slightly floral with hints of peach, pear, grapefruit and grape.  I like to add this to champagne on special occasions, or jazz up the usual gin & tonic/vodka soda.  You may have also seen this liqueur mentioned when I made the Kew Garden Cocktail earlier this spring.

St. Germain is made by a company that's been around since 1884, and the elderflowers are harvested fresh in a small 4-6 week blossoming period.  They're incredibly delicate and lose their flavor within a couple days, so the maceration process begins immediately.  If you look at the label, you'll find a little man riding a bicycle right above the "S."  You may think, "Oh!  How very French!"

Well, there are indeed old (or maybe young), darling French men peddling through the countryside on bikes laden with fresh elderflower blossoms to make the very bottle of St. Germain you will soon be holding.  Hmm...perhaps this is the perfect retirement gig for the Lush Chef's bike-loving father?  He can provide his dear daughter with an unlimited supply of hand-crafted St. Germain.  Now if that isn't love, I don't know what is...

You may have seen a giant bottle of this bitter apéritif with an artichoke on it at the bar and immediately recoiled.  A liqueur made with artichokes?  I'll get my vegetable fix another way!  But give Cynar (pronounced CHEE-nar) a chance.  It's popping up on cocktail menus everywhere, so get used to it.  It's a trend that's only going to get stronger.  If you're a fan of Campari and looking for something new to try, sub this libation into your Negronis.

Besides being made with artichokes, this bitter/amaro is drummed up from about 13 different herbs and plants, has a dark brown color, and is considered a digestive (yeah, it's good for you!).  It's also a part of the Gruppo Campari family, which makes Campari, Aperol, and other yummy Italian apéritifs.  And no, it tastes NOTHING like an artichoke.  That took me a good amount of convincing to some poor Bev-Mo employee when I bought a bottle.  I also think I finally convinced him to give it a try...

This rich, herbal liqueur can be drunk on the rocks, subbed in for your Campari cocktails, or can add a nice balance to a sweet cocktail.  I tend to see it mixed in with a lot of bourbon cocktails, like Matt Biancaniello's Kentucky Bubble Bath at The Roosevelt Hotel's Library Bar in Hollywood, or sometimes with a ton of other bitters like Eeyore's Requiem (Can someone please create a whole bar menu named after Winnie the Pooh characters?) at The Violet Hour in Chicago.  So next time you bop into your favorite mixology den, impress your friend by 1) pronouncing Cynar right and 2) picking a cocktail that contains it.  I think your mind will be changed about the libation in that funny looking bottle.

We haven't had a "Libation Education" in a while, and I feel it's my duty as the Lush Chef to provide the occasional fun lesson.  When the warmer months approach, most people crave margaritas, but I crave Negronis (recipe to come later).  The chief ingredient in these simple Italian cocktails is Campari, a citrusy bitter amaro (Italian bitter apéritifs), that for many is an acquired taste.  About 5 years ago in LA, there was a series of free, arty House of Campari events that attempted to develop young Angeleno palates.  I remember sipping on my first Negroni and despising it - it was far too bitter for me and I couldn't imagine myself coming to love it.  A few more events later, and I'd taken a shining to this ruby red libation.

Campari was invented in 1860 by Gaspare Campari in Novara, Italy.  The liqueur was a fusion of herbs, aromatic plants and fruit (including chinotto - a small, bitter orange-like fruit that is grown in select regions of Italy) in alcohol and water.  It was originally dyed with carmine, a red dye derived from cochineal insects (mmm), and was called "Bitter Uso Olanda."  The recipe is still a closely guarded secret - some suspect it contains up to 20 ingredients, while others speculate there are 60.

In the late 1860's, Campari moved his family to Milan and opened up Caffé Campari where he could serve his distinctive liqueur.  This was also where the Americano cocktail was invented and was later enjoyed by a ton of American's (thus the name) in the early 1900's.  In the 1890's, the family started working with artists to create eye-catching, and sometimes racy, posters and advertisements.  Spearheaded by Gaspare's son David, the company soon became known for being artist-friendly and cutting-edge with its campaigns.

So go run out and buy a bottle, because yours truly is going to be posting Campari recipes all next week!

I've been cooking with all these different beers this month, including ales and stouts, but what's the difference between the two?  We all know that ale has a lighter, fruitier flavor, while stouts are dark, heavy and sometimes have a chocolatey or coffee taste.

Beer can be broken up into two categories - ale and lager - and they're defined by the types of yeast used and the temperature at which they ferment.  Stout is actually a type of ale.

Ale is made from malted barley and is fermented at a high temperature so the yeast rises to the top rather quickly, giving it a sweet and fruity flavor.   The hops in ale contribute to all those different herbal  finishes you can get, and also serves as a bittering agent to counteract the sweetness of the ale.  The term "ale" was initially used to describe brews made without hops, but as the popularity of using hops increased amongst brewers, it was then attributed to just a bitter-tasting brew.

Stout is made from pale malt, caramel malt and unmalted barley.  It has a higher alcohol content and a darker color than ale, and it can be flavored with dark fruit, chocolate or coffee.  The word stout originally meant "proud" or "brave," but after the 14th century, it took on the meaning of "strong."  The first known use of the word stout to describe beer came from a 1677-dated Egerton manuscript - there were 67 total, composed by Francis Henry Egerton, that dealt with French and Italian literature.  I bet you didn't expect to learn about British history too!

If Baileys Irish Cream contains about 50% fresh cream, then why is it that you don't have to put it in the fridge after opening it?  And why does it last so long?  It's kind of a magical mystery, like leprechauns and four-leaf clovers...

Your bottle of Irish Cream is good for over 2 years (30 months is the shelf life, according to Baileys), regardless of whether or not you put in the refrigerator.  It's that lovely combination of fresh cream, sans preservatives, plus the whiskey/spirits, that acts as a natural preservative.  Nothing like a crap load of alcohol to give something a shelf life, right?

However, keep note that Baileys will go bad, and sometimes that 30 month timeframe doesn't always apply.  It depends on how long that bottle has been sitting around in the store, and room temperature can have an effect as well.  Just know, that if you open it up and that whiskey and cream has separated...umm, throw it out.  The Lush Chef likes to buy the smaller bottles because she likes everything fresh.

I've only recently become a fan of whiskey, and I'm still learning the differences amongst all those delicious amber spirits out there.  So what's the deal with Irish versus American whiskey?  Is there really a difference?  Well, here's the simple Lush Chef explanation...

The primary difference is that the Irish make their whiskey with barley, often a blend of pot-stilled malted and un-malted whiskey.  Us Americans make ours with corn, rye or wheat.  There are 4 different kinds of American whiskey - Bourbon, Tennessee, Rye and American Blended, but we'll get into those differences on another day.  When all those Irish immigrants came over to the States, there was a plethora of corn, so they made do with what they had.

Irish whiskey tends to have a barley/malt flavor and is lighter and less sweet than the American full-bodied version.  The Irish also age their whiskey in old barrels, and often in ones that used to store another type of liquor like rum or bourbon, thus the subtle differences in flavor amongst whiskeys from the same distillery.  Using these older barrels means the whiskey takes longer to mature (minimum of 3 years), whereas us Americans like everything shiny, new and fast.  We age our spirits in new, charred oak barrels for a minimum of 2 years, so we don't have to wait as long for the good stuff.