Vin brulé (hot mulled wine)

                                              

It's December already. Ever since I've started working in August, time has gone by at the speed of light. So here we are, already counting down the days till Christmas. Temps are still not very wintery and I'm a little disappointed because it hasn't snowed yet, but I'm making up for it by decorating the house and preparing Christmasy foods.

Vin brulé, aka hot mulled wine, is one of my favorite things about this time of the year. I first tried it when I was about 14, mingling at a Christmas market in the Dolomites with my friend Giovanna. We were freezing, so we decided to give it a try. It was the beginning of an obession. I liked it so much I order it everwhere I go if I see it on the menu. No wonder I liked Prague so much, they sell it on every street corner at a price so cheap, you just can't say no.

Of course I also make it home. Last night I had it while putting up the Christmas tree and, I have to say, it was one of the best recipes ever. Try it, you won't be sorry.

VIN BRULE'

1 bottle dry red wine

Peel of one orange

Peel of one lemon

2 cinnamon sticks

1 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

8 whole cloves

1 cup of sugar

Place all ingredients in a sauce pan. Slowly bring it to a boil, then simmer for about ten minutes or until sugar has dissolved. Discard solids and serve. 

The (in)famous Negroni

I hate fou fou cocktails. I really do. Perfect example: I cannot stand any variations of the good old Martini. There's only two Martinis in my world —one is made with gin and vermouth, the other one is made with vodka and vermouth. Period. I don't like Cosmos and I certainly don't like Appletinis —they remind me of this green apple shampoo my sister used to wash her hair with in the 80s.

But I do love classic cocktails, the ones that taste like the 20s and 30s, smoky Paris lounges, Hemingway and guarantee you the mother of all hangovers. What can I say? I don't drink cocktails often, so when I'm drinking them, I want to drink a good one. A classic. Something that has some serious history,

In other words, a Negroni. Classic, classy, boozy. Very boozy. Extremely boozy. One part gin, one part sweet red vermouth, one part Campari, this drink ain't for sissies. And to top it off it has a lot of history. As it happens with most classic there are many stories, mostly contradicting one another, about how the cocktail was invented. The one I like the best is the one about Count Emilio Negroni who back in 1919 asked the bartender at Caffe' Carsoni in Florence to strengthen is favorite drink, the Americano. The good bartender, instead of adding soda water to the Campari and vermouth concoction added gin, substituted an orange slice for the regualr lemon garnish, and the rest is history. A star was born.

I don't order a Negroni very often, but I do enjoy drinking one every once in a while. That said, I enjoy it even more when I make myself one at home. because then I don't have to worry about driving and stuff, and I can just melt into an armchair and enjoy my Negroni. And it's always worth it.

NEGRONI

1 ounce gin
1 ounce sweet vermouth
1 onuce Campari
1 orange slice

Fill a tall glass with ice cubes, pour the gin, vermouth and Campari in the glass and stir well. Garnish with a slice of orange.

To find out how to make a variation of the Negroni, called a Negroni sbagliato (wrong Negroni) click here.

Cortado con hielo

Sundays don't really feel like Sundays in August. They are sort of a soft, wimpy version of a real Sunday —I mean, they are still fun and ok, but they don't really feel like a break from the rest of the week. At least not here, where everyone has gone on vacation and nobody will be back until around the 20th. That's Europe for you. When I was little, in the early 80s, if you were not going anywhere in between the 10th and the 20th of August you had to stock up. I'm not joking. Everything was closed, and when I say everything I mean it. Grocery stores were closed, for crying out loud.

Nowadays things have changed and some stores and restaurants are open even in mid August, but one thing hasn't changed: everyone is gone. Well, everyone except me. I'm here, sitting on the couch, watching the rain fall on this dreary Ferragosto (August 15th), feeling a little bored and a little blue. The forecast promises me better weather tomorrow, Tuesday and Wednesday and then, Thursday, I'm going on vacation so —really— I shouldn't feel too bored or too blue. I do have things to do, mind you, but they happen to be the kind of things I don't feel like doing at the moment, like laundry or packing for my trip.

What I need this morning is a pick-me-up and —although the weather surely doesn't make it feel like it's the middle of August— a nice, Spanish-style iced coffee is in order. Next week I'll be sipping many of these in Barcelona and that, I have to admit, immediately makes me feel less bored and blue.

CORTADO CON HIELO

One espresso
A splash of milk
One teaspoon of sugar
Ice cubes

Fill a tumbler with ice cubes.
Make a good, strong espresso, stir in sugar until it dissolves, stir in milk and pour over ice. Mix until cold and enjoy.

Spiked apple cider

As I was saying in yesterday's post, while my mom worked relentlessly on getting my Christmas tree decorated I was working as relentlessly on drinking a whole pot of hot apple cider -I figured it would help ease both the pain and the boredom. I don't remember exactly when I became such a fan of hot, alcoholic drinks, but I suspect it has something to do with going to the Christmas open air market in Bressanone, Italy. Nowadays going to this quaint mountain markets has become such a fad that people jam up every possible highway and road leading to the Dolomites, but back then, in the early nineties, only locals and people who had vacation homes in the area knew about them.

It was probably 1993 or so and my family and I were staying at our place in the Dolomites for a long weekend -December 7 is a holiday in Milano because it's Saint Ambrose, Milano's patron saint; Demeber 8 is a holiday in Italy because it's the Immaculate Conception. That long weekend, every year, was also the first weekend when the ski lifts would open, which is mainly why we were in the Dolomites to begin with. But I digress. The point is that that year we decided to go check out one of these Christmas markets in Bressanone. I was 13 and was entering that age when you can't possibly go anywhere without a) your Walkman b) your friends. So we had my very good friend Giovanna in tow and, as soon as we got to the open air market, the two of us started walking a few feet behind my parents, pretending not to know them, pretending to be there by ourselves. I know, I know. But, hey, we were 13. And while my mom and dad were checking out beautiful hand made, hand carved ornaments and trinkets, Giovanna and I followed the sweet scent of cinnamon and cloves wafting through the cold December air. It led us to an old man stirring a giant pot, a cauldron really, filled with vin brule', mulled wine. It was instant love. We each bought a cup and slowly sipped on it as the snow started to fall. It was the best drink we had ever had.

That's what I was thinking about the other day, as I sipped on my warm apple cider. I was thinking about Christmas markets, snow and hot mulled wine. It made me homesick and at the same time it made me feel better. But then again, maybe that was just the Vicodin kicking in.


SPIKED APPLE CIDER

2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
10 black peppercorns
8 whole allspice berries
5 whole cloves
2 cinnamon sticks
6 cups apple cider
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 (2-inch) lemon rind strips
1 cup brandy

Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Stir in sugar and next 4 ingredients (through cinnamon sticks); cook 1 minute. Add cider and next 4 ingredients (through lemon rind); bring to a simmer. Reduce heat to medium-low; simmer 15 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in applejack. Strain; discard solids.