Santa Fe Margarita
I hold this truth to be self-evident: Under no circumstances should a blender be allowed to touch a margarita.
On the rocks like God intended.
I hold this truth to be self-evident: Under no circumstances should a blender be allowed to touch a margarita. In fact, blenders are even against the law in the city of Santa Fe.
I kid.
They aren’t against the law…yet. But put tequila into one and they will throw your ass outside the city limits and leave you for the coyotes.
I grew up in Santa Fe, and I can tell you they take thier food and drink fucking seriously there. They were doing heirloom produce before heirloom was a thing. There is a cult revolving around green chile - its uses, merits of different roasting methods, subtle differences between varieties. At the fancy restaurants, in addition to a wine list there will be a tequila list.
If your only exposure to tequila was what you drank from a squirt gun while super-fucked-up on spring break, the existence of tequila lists will not compute. Allow me to drop some knowledge on you.
Knowledge drop #1:
All alcohol is produced by the fermentation - by yeast - of carbohydrate. In the case of tequila, the carbohydrate source is agave, a desert plant with “stay the fuck away from me” spikes but yummy sweet sap. The products of its fermentation are distilled and either bottled as is (with some dilution to the proper proof), or aged in oak casks. The time it spends in that oak will add aromas and flavors, and will soften the edges of the spirit. Much like whiskey, the longer the spirit spends in oak, the richer, more complex, and more expensive the final spirit will be. Like most spirits, there are very strict definitions around where tequila can be made and how it is labeled.
We could get into the regions that tequila is produced and the differences in character between them, and how and when the roots are harvested and baked and all that, but honestly, I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. Plus this post is already chock full of facts and pretty fucking light on the swears.
So let’s boil it down to the bare bones basics. There are four main categories of tequila: blanco, which spends no time in barrel, reposado, which spends between two months and one year in oak, añejo, which spends one to three years in oak, and extra añejo, which is anything that lives in barrel beyond three years. “Gold” and “silver” aren’t official terms but marketing terms, though “silver” usually means blanco.
Añejo and extra añejo are sipping tequilas. Drink them straight, with a touch of water, or a cube of ice. Then savor their complex, savings account-draining flavors. Blanco and reposado are the ones to use for mixed drinks. I prefer reposado for margaritas. The smoother edges and layers of flavor really do come through in the final product.
A reposado on the left, a blanco on the right.
Knowledge drop #2:
“Daisies” are alcoholic beverages containing spirit, liqueur, and citrus juice. For instance, sidecars, cosmopolitans, and margaritas. Daisies are shaken over ice, and then can be served “up” or on the rocks (or frozen, but then you are diluting the alcohol and it’s really hard to do it well and then there are the coyotes to consider so just forget I mentioned it, okay?)
There are some classic ratios quoted for daisies, but I like Eat Street Social’s recipe best:
1 1/2 oz spirit
3/4 oz citrus
1/2 oz liqueur
1/4 oz simple syrup
I also hit up my sister, who still lives in Santas Fe and makes a really fucking excellent margarita. Her recipe is simple: equal parts lime juice, Cointreau, and tequila. As a scientist, I felt rigorous research was required.
I made the simple syrup, which is simply equal volumes water and sugar, heated until the sugar dissolves, and then cooled. I used Dry Curaçao for the liqueur, and La Gritona resposado for the tequila. I started with the two recipes and altered from there. My sister’s recipe was the clear winner of the two starting drinks, though I felt the need to adjust the sweet/sour ratio and experiment with bitters. What follows is the final version.
But first, a note on ingredients:
For liqueur: Cointreau, Dry Curaçao (pictured), Royal Combier, Luxardo Triplum triple sec, and Combier Liqueur d’Orange are all good options, though the first two are my favorites. Grand Marinier is a bit more brandy forward and meant more as a sipper than a mixer, and is more expensive anyway.
For tequila: Feel free to experiment to see what you like amongst the blanco and reposado options out there, but some of my favorites are Don Julio, Herradura, Tequila Ocho, and my new favorite, La Gritona. La Gritona is a small, female owned distillery in Jalisco. The tequila is delicious, is bottled in recycled glass, and is a fucking steal at the price. Nothing not to love there.
Bitters: Bitters are for cocktails what salt and pepper are to food. They add dimension, lengthen or bend flavors, and make you look like a fucking cocktail genius. Experiment, but in a margarita stay away from anything purely orange (you already have that in the liqueur) and look for bright flavor profiles. I settled on Bittercube Jamaican #2, with notes of grapefruit, hibiscus, allspice and ginger.
Shaping up to be a pretty good evening.
Shit You Need
1 1/2 ounces tequila reposado
1 1/2 ounces Cointreau or Dry Curaçao
1 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
10 drops Bittercube Jamaican #2 bitters
Salt for the rim of your glass (I used fleur de sel, but kosher salt could work, as well as “margarita” salt)
You may note that this is a total of 3 ounces of 80 proof liquor. Treat it with respect or it will hammer your fine ass into the ground and leave you for the coyotes.
Keep Calm and justeffingmix
Prep your glass: Rub the rim of a double old-fashioned glass with a lime slice and invert onto a plate or bowl holding your salt. Add ice to the glass.
To a cocktail shaker, add the first four ingredients listed above, along with a generous handful or two of ice.
Shake for 30 seconds (it’s longer than you think).
Strain into the prepared glass.
Repeat as necessary.
By the end of my research, both my presentation and photographic skills had suffered greatly. Totally worth it.
Mexican Crab Cakes
What happens when a crab cake gets all jacked up on cilantro and serranos? Good things.
What happens when a crab cake gets all jacked up on cilantro and serranos? Good things.
Welcome to Fucking Delicious Friday! Today, I have some lovely crab cakes for you - come on in! I will make you a nice margarita (on the rocks, you guys, don’t let me see you ever sucking on one of those too-sweet margarita-mix-Slushees) and tell you all about it.
My favorite place to shop for groceries during the month of Pandemuary (and it’s been Pandemuary a long time) is a small Latin grocery store near my home. If you want to avoid crowds, don’t go at noon, when all the pickup trucks pull in for the house-made empanadas and tamales. Otherwise, you’ll be in great shape, and you won’t find fresher produce anywhere.
Inspired by the produce there, I decided to make crab cakes with typical Mexican flavorings. I perused some recipes online, but didn’t find much to inspire me, except for one. Chef Alfredo Solis’s crab cakes via Pati Jinich. All the freshness I was looking for - nothing much beyond crab, onion, peppers, and cilantro. I took inspiration and went from there, using what I had on hand and what sounded good.
That is gorgeous, amiright?
The result: Big lumps of crab held together by the tiniest bit of egg and breadcrumbs (and sheer fucking will), flavored with cilantro, onion, and serrano peppers. Plus a serrano-cilantro aioli on top because I am not screwing around, my friends. Give it a go and let me know what you think below!
Shit You Need
Crab Cakes:
1 pound of lump crab meat
1/4 cup minced red onion
2 green onions - white parts, minced
1 serrano pepper, minced. If you like spicy, do two, or take a page from Alfredo Solis’s playbook and use a habañero instead. If you need to tone it down from serrano, go with a jalapeño.
1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro leaves
juice of 1/2 lime, freshly squeezed
1 scant tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup serrano-cilantro aioli
1/4 cup panko bread crumbs
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 Tbs butter (for the pan)
Serrano-Cilantro Aioli:
1 cup homemade aioli or quality mayonnaise
1/2 bunch cilantro, with stems, roughly chopped
1 clove garlic
2 green onions - green parts, roughly chopped
1-2 serrano peppers (depending on how how they are and how spice tolerant you are), seeded and roughly chopped
juice of 1 lime, freshly squeezed
1 tsp kosher salt
Are you eyeing my pan? You can’t have it. Go get your own at Smithey Ironware because they are awesome.
Keep Calm and justeffingcook
Crab Cakes
In a medium bowl, add the crab, onions, pepper, cilantro, lime juice, mayo, bread crumbs, egg, salt and pepper. Toss lightly to combine.
Form into 6 roughly equal-sized patties, place on a plate or small sheet pan, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate at least an hour, and up to 48 hours. This chill time helps keep these little bastards together when you transfer them to the pan for browning. Plus, hey! Make-ahead potential!
Have a margarita.
Heat butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. Using a spatula, carefully transfer crab cakes to the skillet, tucking any loosened crab bits back into place. Don’t crowd the crab cakes - they like their space. Fry in batches if you need to. Cook 3 minutes or so per side, or until golden brown. Flip carefully to keep crab cakes intact.
Serve while hot, accompanied by serrano-cilantro aioli. Serve with lightly dressed greens, with some kickin’ rice, or by themselves as an app.
Serrano-cilantro Aioli
You will notice this is very similar to the aioli recipe that accompanied Life-affirming Grilled Shrimp Tacos. While that one essentially had you making aioli in your blender, albeit with a little creme fraíche in there, this starts with a base of mayo. It’s another way to get a very similar result.
Combine all of the ingredients in a blender and blend
Adjust seasoning if necessary
Boom. Drop mike. Have another margarita.
If this is not the definition of drool-worthy then there is no pleasing you. Give me back my margarita and go home.
Toasted Coconut Ice Cream
Some people do not like coconut. It’s one of the grim realities I have had to accept in this life.
Shown here with Gordon Ramsay’s brownies. Yo, Gordon, thanks for sending these. They were super good.
Some people do not like coconut. It’s one of the grim realities I have had to accept in this life. Those people are monsters, of course, and I will not associate with them.
For the rest of us, there is this toasted coconut ice cream.
When it comes to custard style ice cream, I am what you might call an enthusiast. Or you might call me an extremist. Or zealot. Sorbets just leave me unsatisfied and pissed off. Like, “Why the fuck did I just waste my time with that shit when I could have had fucking ice cream???” And even “Philadelphia” style ice creams made without eggs get a little thin and icy for my taste.
For that is the purpose of egg yolks in ice cream: along with butterfat and churn speed, they inhibit ice crystal formation, resulting in tiny crystals and therefore smooth, creamy, knee-trembling greatness. What about gelato, you say? Well, there are many types of gelato, and some of them use egg yolks. The ones that don’t use eggs typically use a stabilizer of some sort to inhibit crystal formation and keep the product smooth.
The main difference between gelato and ice cream is in the butterfat. Ice cream uses more, gelato less. Because butterfat makes incorporating air during churning easier, ice cream is less dense, gelato more dense. And modern gelato makers usually use commercial churners with paddles that minimize air incorporation, doubling down on the whole density factor. A swoopy versus scoopy dessert. For more on gelato, see this excellent article in Saveur.
What we have below is a custard-style ice cream. It’s milk and cream and egg yolks coming together in pure mouth-coating decadence…and that is the fucking point, is it not?
My first custard wasn’t a wild success. It was a little chunky and gross. But once I committed to 1. attentiveness and 2. patience, it went great. Go slow, keep stirring, watch the thickening process and/or temperature. Besides, if that shit goes pear-shaped on you, remember that you’re going to strain it later. That process will hide minor faults…like partially scrambled eggs.
And it’s not like this could possibly taste bad. Cream, sugar? Bitch, please.
Once you get the custard thing down, a whole world of flavor opens up to you. Steep whatever you want in that hot cream (like the coconut below) and make an infusion! Vanilla bean? Check. Earl Gray tea? Sure! Rosemary? Why the hell not?
Nuff said. Let’s do this.
I Googled “pornography” once. I expected to see photos like these, but there were people in the pictures. It was super weird.
Shit You Need
6 egg yolks
1/4 cup sugar
1/8 tsp fine sea salt
1 1/4 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
1 cup whole milk
2 cups heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
One 14 oz can coconut cream. This is not the coconut milk you use for curries. This is the stuff you find in the mixer section that you use for piña coladas. It gives this ice cream (almost) all the sugar it needs.
A well-coated spoon - note the coconut bits. Extra credit if you can spot a fern in the corner of my kitchen.
Keep Calm and justeffingcook
Gird your loins. You’re making custard.
Separate your eggs (save the whites for something else) and set aside the yolks in a medium-sized non-reactive bowl.
In a heavy bottomed saucepan (a saucier if you have one), add your milk, cream, sea salt, and 1/4 cup of the coconut. Simmer until the sugar is dissolved, about 5 minutes.
In the meantime, whisk your egg yolk, getting them ready for some hot cream action.
While whisking the egg yolks constantly, pour the hot cream in a thin, steady stream until you’ve added about a third of the cream mixture. Then reverse: slowly pour the egg yolk mixture back into the pan while whisking. Doing it this way helps prevent you scrambling those eggs and winding up with a semi-coagualted, chunky, gross mess.
Return the pan to the stove and heat on medium low. Stir constantly with a wooden spoon (not sure why it needs to be wooden, but I I fear fucking up custard so I always do it), until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon (see handy photo). I like to check with a thermometer as well, aiming for a temp of 180 degrees F.
Strain into a bowl through a fine-mesh strainer. “Oh no, you’re straining out the coconut!” you say. Chill, we’re adding it back later. Now, literally chill…the custard in the refrigerator. At least 4 hours, but ideally overnight. Tap a little plastic wrap right down to the surface of the custard to prevent a weird jello-pudding film from forming.
The next day (or later that day if you are so goddamned impatient), Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Toast the remaining 1 cup of the shredded coconut until golden brown and set aside to cool.
Churn the chilled custard in your ice cream machine per the manufacturer’s directions. About ten minutes from the end of churn time, add in the toasted shredded coconut. Chill in the freezer for a full set, or stick your face right in the machine for instant gratification. Pro-tip: turn the machine off first.
This was about five seconds after the first photo in the post.
Second-best Corn Tortillas in the World
Have you ever lamented the horrible mistakes you’ve made in your life? Drowned in a whiskey-addled funk of self-loathing because if only you knew then what you know now, things would have been different?
A recipe worthy of my inaugural “Fucking Delicious Friday” series.
Have you ever lamented the horrible mistakes you’ve made in your life? Drowned in a whiskey-addled funk of self-loathing because if only you knew then what you know now, things would have been different?
You have? Me, too.
For instance: when I realized how easy it was to make corn tortillas and how much MUCH MUCH better they were than anything you can buy outside of a tortilleria. Like, not even the same ballpark. Not even the same sport.
We must allow ourselves the mistakes of youth, for however else would we learn? We simply must never allow ourselves to repeat those terrible mistakes of the past. Pinky promise with me, will you?
A bag of masa and two minutes, and you will begin to forgive yourself. You may even begin to forget those mistakes. The store bought tortillas, the horrible way you broke up with that one person, the sticky and fumbled way you lost your virginity.
It can all be made right once more. (Cue lighters, raise them in the air and sway as the music swells.)
Masa = hope!
One masa, two masa. Yellow masa, blue masa.
Shit You Need
2 cups masa harina. Not corn meal. The label will read “Instant corn masa flour” or “masa instantánea de maíz”.
1 1/2 cups hot water
one generous pinch of kosher salt
Two minutes of your precious time
This is the consistency you’re going for. Insert winky emoji here.
Keep Calm and justeffingcook
Stir all the ingredients together. Yup, it’s that easy. Ashamed of yourself yet? If it makes you feel better, get your hand in there and really mush it around. Scoop and punch it down…scoop and punch it down, See, this is hard work! No wonder you waited so long!
You are aiming for the consistency of Play-dough. It will hold together without cracking but not really stick to your hand.
With wet hands, take a portion the size of a golf ball and roll it into a, well… ball. If you want to get technical, I use about 1 1/2 ounces for a 6 inch tortilla.
Smush that fucker flat. Plastic on top, plastic on the bottom - a cut zip-top bag works great. Don’t have a tortilla press? I’m not going to make you buy one. Use your skillet. But if you want extra credit, go to your local Latin grocer and buy a tortilla press for $12. It makes it much easier. I press, turn 90 degrees, press, turn 90 degrees, etc. This gives me an even thickness.
How thick should it be? Ever seen a corn tortilla? That thick.
The hardest part of the whole endeavor is peeling the tortilla away from the plastic. So - a.) peel the top plastic away, b.) flip plastic + tortilla onto to your hand, tortilla side down, one edge well supported and the other hanging down (see the handy photo below - aren’t I thoughtful?), c.) gently tease the plastic away, starting on the supported side.
Cooking happens in two parts - the first is on the griddle or in a pan. Sweep the tortilla onto the griddle as if you are finishing a magic trick with a flourish. (Again, see below.) You will be tempted to take a bow. Go ahead. You deserve it.
You will cook this lovely fellow on medium high, about a 30 seconds on each side, but hitting that first side twice (ie 90 second total). Press it a bit with your spatula. If the tortilla fairy smiles on you, it will puff up in the middle and you can claim tortilla genius status.
Wrap the tortilla in a kitchen towel while you work on its comrades. This towel-time steams the tortilla and completes the cooking.
Invite your friends over for your HOMEMADE FUCKING CORN TORTILLAS and let them ooh and aah all over you. You will get all the love. Until they find out these are only the second best corn tortillas in the world…it was nice while it lasted, though, right?
masa flour and salt, 2. peel gently! 3. draping on to the griddle, and 4. note the lovely bubbles!
Serving suggestion of the day: I had some left-over stuffed-poblano stuffing: chicken, grilled corn, green chile, goat cheese, scallions and cilantro, which I sandwiched between corn tortillas and a layer of grated Oaxacan cheese. Fucking delicious.