Mostly Plants for Happy Hour

Given the existence of a liqueur made from 130 herbs, plants, and flowers, it was surely only a matter of time before this blog incorporated a happy hour. Introducing Trip the Light Plantastic, a summer cocktail made of (what else?) mostly plants, including juniper (gin), green chartreuse (there's the 130 herbs, plants, and flowers), mint, lime, and cucumber. Or stone fruit. Or whatever else strikes your produce-happy muddling fancy. In addition to its pun-based name, it also answers to "ooh, yes please," "one more over here," and "what was that drinky thing you made with the cucumber?"

Note: If you like your drinks on the sweeter side, go for the berry version below at peak berry season when they're super sweet and ripe, and aim for more berries rather than fewer. If you're not a fan of sweet drinks, head for any of the other versions.

Ingredients per drink:
1 shot gin
1/2 shot green chartreuse
5 mint leaves, muddled
1/2 shot lime juice or a bit less
1.5 - 2 shots club soda
and then choose your own adventure:

Cool Cucumber:
   2 sliced cucumber, muddled
   or
Summer Stone Fruit:
   1/2 an apricot or 1/4 nectarine, muddled
   1 peel of Meyer lemon zest (use a carrot peeler)
   or
Berry Blend:
   2-4 strawberries and/or blackberries, muddled
   1 peel of Meyer lemon or orange zest (use a carrot peeler)

In a cocktail shaker, muddle the mint and the cucumber or fruit together, then add the lime juice, gin, and chartreuse. Clink in 2-3 ice cubes and shake vigorously until icy.

Serve into cold glasses on the rocks (an oversized ice cube or scotch rock works particularly well, so that the drink doesn't get diluted as the ice melts). Add club soda to desired level of dilution...I like my drinks strong, so I tend to add 1 1/2 shots of club soda to each glass here, but feel free to up the club soda to taste.

Add garnish as desired—cucumber slices if you're doing the cucumber version, citrus zest if you are doing a fruit version—and serve immediately.

Mostly Plants for Breakfast: Farro with Fruit and Greek Yogurt

You may have noticed that I have a thing about conquering new foods.

First it was kale, I think. Then fish. Cauliflower went from dubiously tolerated to deeply beloved, and brussels sprouts followed suit. At some point, I confessed to a sudden, irreversible, life-altering change in my relationship with tomatoes.

It became a thing. Find a food I think I don't like, and then find a way to prepare it that makes me change my mind. It was true of anything, I declared loudly. There IS no food I don't like, and if I think there is, I just haven't come across the right version yet.

Except yogurt.

 

 

Yogurt, it seemed, was the last holdout. The final frontier. The unbeatable edible. The...you get the idea.

People thought they could solve this one easily for me. Just try Greek yogurt, they said. Make sure it's the such and such brand. Try French style. Try it with strawberries. Try the parsnip yogurt, because seriously, parsnips! (Verdict, on all: Ew.)

Until quite recently, when my mom intervened.* And this is what she suggested.

And the yogurt?

Delightful. Necessary. A perfect complement in both flavor and texture. And most importantly? Vanquished.


Ingredients
1 cup farro, cooked according to package directions
10 oz or so plain Greek yogurt (my favorites, texture-wise, are Fage and Voskos)
Local honey**
1 lemon (preferably Meyer), zested
1/2 - 1 tsp grated ginger
Plentiful fruit (sliced strawberries, blueberries, diced kiwi, sliced kumquats, you name it)

Mix the yogurt with the lemon zest, ginger, and a spoonful or two of honey. Serve in layers: a scoop or two of farro, a scoop of yogurt, a heap of fruit. Eat blissfully. Repeat as needed.


Serves about 4, and saves easily in the fridge, separately, for breakfasts throughout the week (just reheat the farro and serve).

*You may remember my mom as the well-intentioned radish foister.
**Turns out honey is one of the most adulterated food products in the U.S. (along with olive oil), so it's worth splurging a little on a source you trust.

Pardon Me, Waiter, but There's Some Champagne in My Fruit Cup

Okay, let's say you're stranded on a desert island with only one coconut husk, a bottle of sparkling Viognier, and some strawberries and figs. On the surface, this would seem like a horrible situation -- do you use the coconut husk as a glass to drink the champagne, thereby missing out on dessert, or do you use it as a bowl for a fruit salad, but miss out on the champagne? (Obviously, you can't just drink the champagne out of the bottle, since you don't want to risk looking like a lush when the cruise ship drops by to rescue you.)

Fear not, sea-bound readers. We have discovered the perfect solution to what is surely an age-old dilemma. Just make sure to only frequent desert islands with free Wi-Fi so you can refer back to this and other single-husk recipes as needed.

Ingredients
Ripe, fragrant strawberries, sliced crosswise (or any berries)
Fresh figs, cut into quarters or sixths
Sparkling Viognier or champagne (you'll probably want to stay on the sweeter side unless your fruit is very sweet)

Combine the fruit in single-serving dishes. Drizzle each serving with a slosh of champagne, and let sit for 2-3 minutes before serving.



P.S. In other news, look what photo was recently picked to feature on FoodPornDaily!
(Thank you to Ann at Il Fiorello for directing us to the website!)

Melon with Moscato

We found a "farmer's wife melon," apparently from Russia, in our CSA box last week. The insert that comes in our box suggested filling it with dessert wine, which struck us as a brilliant idea (filling things with wine usually does).

Ingredients

A farmer's wife melon (or another smallish melon)
Moscato (e.g., Trader Joe's 2009 late harvest Moscato)
Berries
Mint (optional)


Halve the melon and scoop out the seeds. Fill each half with Moscato and let sit in the fridge for a few hours. Garnish with berries and mint, and serve with a spoon (or add the berries into the moscato-filled center, as we eventually did with ours, which was amazing).