Last week I passed by Cantina, a San Francisco bar specializing in pisco and tequila where I spent many a pre-child Saturday night. I saw the familiar red sign and a part of me wanted to jump off the bus taking me home and sneak in an unplanned cocktail. The next day the memory still haunted me, so I pulled down the pisco to make a chilcano, a pisco and ginger ale drink. But not just an ordinary chilcano- a kicked-up one with spicy hits of fresh ginger and ginger beer instead of ginger ale. This refreshing cocktail is my toast to spring and a way to pretend that I'm back on the leather barstools at Cantina without a care in the world. (Click "Read More" below for the full recipe.)
As much as I enjoy wine, I'm an admitted cocktail girl. I like the seemingly endless combinations of bitters, citrus, tinctures, and boozes. But most of all, I like that you can replicate a fabulous drink if you get the recipe. With wine, I always feel like it's difficult to find that same exact wine you tasted in a restaurant, received as a gift, or bought in a store months or even years ago.
Last week I passed by Cantina, a San Francisco bar specializing in pisco and tequila where I spent many a pre-child Saturday night. I saw the familiar red sign and a part of me wanted to jump off the bus taking me home and sneak in an unplanned cocktail. The next day the memory still haunted me, so I pulled down the pisco to make a chilcano, a pisco and ginger ale drink. But not just an ordinary chilcano- a kicked-up one with spicy hits of fresh ginger and ginger beer instead of ginger ale. This refreshing cocktail is my toast to spring and a way to pretend that I'm back on the leather barstools at Cantina without a care in the world. (Click "Read More" below for the full recipe.)
0 Comments
An open bottle of madeira, too good to cook with, has been lingering in the door of the refrigerator for months. I've been a fan of fortified wine cocktails lately, so I started tinkering around and found that it pairs quite nicely with bourbon. In this cocktail recipe, the bourbon and a dash of Creole bitters balance out the sweetness of the madeira and maraschino liqueur, and there's a touch of brightness from an orange twist at the end. It's definitely got a punch but won't knock your socks off, and now you don't have to relegate the rest of your bottle of madeira to the saucepan. Cheers! (Click "Read More" below for the full recipe.)
|
WELCOME
I'm a food editor and professionally trained recipe developer and food stylist. You'll usually find me in the kitchen tinkering with new ideas and recipes to share with others. Archives
September 2014
Categories
All
|