Homemade Liqueurs and Infused Spirits: Innovative Flavor Combinations, Plus Homemade Versions of Kahlúa, Cointreau, and Other Popular Liqueurs (10 page)

Persimmons come in astringent and non-astringent varieties. For liqueurs you want to stick to the non-astringent type, and the most popular varietal is Fuyu. Fuyu persimmons are bright orange and round, tapering at one end. They are sweet even when not super soft, but they have the best flavor and make the best liqueur when fully ripe and soft. A slight cracking in the skin is an indication of ripeness. This colorful and fragrant liqueur is tinted and acidified with a handful of fresh cranberries.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) reposado tequila (80 proof)
  
• 3 Fuyu persimmons, trimmed and finely chopped
  
• 1 cup fresh cranberries, chopped
  
• Finely grated zest of 1 orange
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the tequila, persimmons, cranberries, and orange zest with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of persimmon, about 10 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

L’chaim!
Makes an all-natural Tequila Sunrise.

In the Northern Hemisphere, pomegranate is a winter fruit, appearing in early October and gone by the middle of February. Because it is so stubbornly seasonal, it makes sense to capture its essence for imbibing year-round. It is one of the easiest fruits to tincture because it is loaded with juice. I use just the seeds, although I have seen recipes for tincturing the whole fruit. Doing so yields a little more astringency but also darkens the color substantially, because the white pith tends to oxidize.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) vodka (80–100 proof)
  
• Seeds from 3 pomegranates
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the vodka and pomegranate seeds with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of pomegranate, 3 to 5 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Santé!
Mix with gin for a fragrant Martini, make a cardinal-red Pomegranate Negroni (
page 255
) or try a Hawaiian Punch (
page 244
) or Coconut Mai Tai (
page 250
).

The musky perfume of cantaloupe can be overwhelming, which is why I prefer to imbibe my muskmelon rather than eat it out of hand. An acrid bite of alcohol and a little hint of citrus are all you need to clean up the feral notes that a ripe cantaloupe can impart.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) vodka (80–100 proof)
  
• 4 cups cantaloupe chunks
  
• Finely grated zest of 2 lemons
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the vodka, cantaloupe, and lemon zest with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of melon, 4 to 7 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Sláinte!
Pairs nicely with summer gin coolers, white wine spritzers, and frozen Daiquiris.

The demise of the ripe honeydew melon is one of the saddest things in the annals of contemporary produce. At one time, the fresh, barely yielding flesh of a newly cleaved honeydew was the very essence of summer. Now I am told to age my cucumber-crisp specimen until it “ripens,” but melons do not ripen off the vine, and since they can’t be cooked and they make dismal preserves, the best thing to do is whip up a batch of melon liqueur. Because you are adding sugar, the sweetness of the melon is immaterial, and because the flesh will be discarded, its hardness hardly matters. And what you achieve is redemption from the past, as once again the regal honeydew mounts its summertime throne.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) vodka (80–100 proof)
  
• 4 cups honeydew chunks
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  cup chopped fresh mint leaves
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the vodka, honeydew, and mint with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of melon and mint, about 7 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Cheers!
Toast the season with an End-of-Summer Cocktail (
page 243
).

The fruit of two types of palm sway together in this fragrant, slightly creamy tropical liqueur. Shards of nut and fruit are infused into rum and then sweetened with caramelized sugar to create a brandy-like elixir.

Makes about 3 cups

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) light rum (80 proof)
  
• 3 cups lightly packed sweetened flaked coconut
  
• 24 Medjool dates, pitted and chopped
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  cup
  Caramelized Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the rum, coconut, and dates with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of coconut, about 10 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Bottoms Up!
Pour over crushed ice for an instant Daiquiri or mix up a twist on a Coconut Mai Tai (
page 250
).

Mead is the ancient wine made by fermenting honey. When fruit is added to the fermentation, mead technically becomes melomel, and when you mix in spices it is called metheglin. Neither term trips off my tongue as easily as
mead
, so I choose poetry over accuracy in titling this recipe. And rightly so, for the choreography of this fragrant chai-spiced honey-and-fig quintessence is more poetical than corporeal. It is a drink so perfectly balanced and self-contained that I suggest you prepare it frequently and sip it happily unadorned.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 cup water
  
• 3 chai tea bags
  
• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  cups honey
  
• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) brandy (80 proof)
  
• 24 dried Turkish figs, chopped
  

1. 1.
   Bring the water to a boil. Add the tea bags, remove from the heat, and set aside for 3 minutes. Remove the tea bags and stir in the honey until it dissolves. Let cool completely.
   
2. 2.
   Mix the honey mixture, brandy, and figs in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten the fruit.
   
3. 3.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of aromatic spices and figs, 2 to 3 days.
   
4. 4.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Salut!
Mix up a Harvest Stinger (
page 253
).

Some dried fruits are readily identifiable as descendants of their fresh forebears. Dried peaches aren’t unlike peaches. One can see that a dried apricot came from the fresh fruit of the same name. But others don’t seem to relate at all. Raisins bear little resemblance to grapes, and prunes have as much to do with plums as a beefsteak tomato has to do with a beef steak (at least the latter two complement one another on a plate). And yet plum-flavored liqueurs can be made most deliciously from prunes. This one is a classic pairing of prunes and brandy, with a hint of orange.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups vodka (80–100 proof)
  
• 2
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups brandy (80 proof)
  
• 24 pitted prunes, chopped
  
• Finely grated zest of 1 orange
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Combine the vodka, brandy, prunes, and orange zest in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of prunes, about 7 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Prost!
Make a Sloe Gin Fizz (
page 255
), Elk (
page 248
), or Prunelle Martini (
page 248
).

Embrace the dark side of pineapple. I can relate to the light, bright, tropical-romp aspect of pineapple, all Piña Coladas and paper parasols, but I’m also partial to the big boy’s sultry side — the one that goes with baked ham, luaus, and upside-down everything. That’s the laid-back dude I’m honoring by mixing my pineapple liqueur with dark rum, cloves, and brown sugar syrup.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) dark rum (80 proof)
  
• 3 cups crushed pineapple
  
• 2 whole cloves
  
• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  cups
  Brown Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Muddle the rum, pineapple, and cloves with a wooden spoon in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of pineapple, 3 to 5 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Stir in the simple syrup.
   
5. 5.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Skål!
The perfect spike for rum punches, Mai Tais (Coconut Mai Tai,
page 250
), or a New-Fashioned Old-Fashioned (
page 249
).

Like many exotic fruits, kiwi has a tutti-frutti personality — grape, citrus, honeydew, and pineapple all genomed into one adorable little package. With its fuzzy-wuzzy skin, vegetable-green flesh, and graphic ring of onyx-black seeds, it’s a visual knockout, too, and all of that oddity emerges brilliantly in this liqueur. Amended with lime zest and a scant amount of sugar, this large berry’s complicated nuances come through loud and clear. There is nothing like this liqueur made commercially, but I can attest that it makes a stellar Daiquiri. Or you can pour it directly over ice for an instant Caipiroska.

Makes about 1 quart

• 1 fifth (750 ml/3
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  cups) vodka (80–100 proof)
  
• 5 kiwis, peeled and finely chopped
  
• Finely grated zest of 2 limes
  
• 1 cup
  Simple Syrup
  

1. 1.
   Combine the vodka, kiwis, lime zest, and simple syrup in a half-gallon jar. Stir to moisten everything.
   
2. 2.
   Seal the jar and put it in a cool, dark cabinet until the liquid smells and tastes strongly of kiwi, about 7 days.
   
3. 3.
   Strain the mixture with a mesh strainer into a clean quart jar. Do not push on the solids to extract more liquid.
   
4. 4.
   Seal and store in a cool, dark cabinet. Use within 1 year.
   

Sláinte!
Try a Kiwi Flower Crush (
page 250
).