Now that we’ve talked about Campari and vermouth, let’s talk about the wonderful things that happen when they get put together…but first a bit more about Campari, since it is celebrating its 150^th anniversary this year. In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that the agency I work for is one of several that represent Campari in the United States. However, I have been a fan for much longer than I have had my present job and I do not do any work on that account. So…

Campari and other bitters come from the same tradition as vermouth. The big difference is that whereas vermouth is herb-infused wine, Campari and other bitters are infused in distilled spirits. These non-wine based bitters started to catch on in the mid-19^th century for two reasons. First, the same technological advances that made railroads and heavy industry possible also made the distilling on a large scale possible, which brought down the price.  At the same time, the vineyards of Europe were suffering from the phylloxera epidemic, one of the worst crises in the history of wine. Phylloxera is an insect (related to aphids) that sucks the sap out of the roots of grape vines. It is native to North America, where the indigenous vines are, by natural selection, considerably more resistant to it than European vines. During the 18^th and early 19^th centuries, botanists had brought many samples of indigenous American vines to Europe (and vice versa) and, somewhere along the line, they brought phyloxera along with them.  By the 1870s, almost all of Europe’s vineyards had been decimated and it took years to figure out that the only way to save them was to tear up the vineyards and re-plant by grafting European varieties onto phyloxera-resistant American rootstock.  In the meantime, wine production dropped to almost nothing and the price soared accordingly. Production did eventually resume, and prices did come down, but many of the wine replacements that had been created in the meantime had gained great popularity.  These include Campari, the Pastis family (Pernod, Riccard, Casanis and other anise flavored beverages that remain very popular in France) and the notorious Absinthe…about which I will write more another time.

So, how do Campari and vermouth end up in the same glass?  In another American import to Europe: the cocktail. In the years following the end of World War I, Europe was having a bit of a love affair with all things American. Our music, our movies, our cars and our confidence were all greatly admired in a Europe that was deeply disenchanted with traditions and institutions that had just given them four years of death and horror and that had left much of the continent financially devastated and politically unstable. Americans, for their part, were flocking to Europe, disenchanted with our lack of sophistication, our conservatism and parochialism and attracted by the low cost of living.  Expatriate communities sprang up in Paris, Venice, Florence, Rome and other cities and bars opened that catered to their taste for mixed drinks. So, when a bartender in Florence created a cocktail of equal parts Campari and sweet vermouth over ice and topped up with sparkling water, he named it the Americano. It’s a terrific drink and that’s really all there is to it, except that you may want to tweak the proportions to your own taste and add a twist of lemon.

The drink became very popular and a number of variations were created. One is the Americano Sbagliato (which translates as the Americano gone wrong) in which the sparkling water is replaced by Prosecco.  But the best one was created and named for a certain Count Negroni, who suggested replacing the sparkling water with gin. The Negroni is probably my favorite summer cocktail and it requires absolutely no skill to make. Simply combine one part Campari, one part sweet vermouth, and one to two parts gin in a cocktail shaker with ice. Stir well (or shake) and serve straight up or on the rocks with a twist of lemon peel.  Use the best sweet vermouth you can find. I recommend seeking out Antica Carpano or Dolin.  The gin, on the other hand, needn’t be anything too special. Don’t use rotgut, but don’t use a designer product either.

Now I can already year people ask whether one can make a Negroni with vodka instead of gin and the answer is an emphatic no.  I can’t prevent you from trying but the result will simply be an Americano molto sbagliato (Americano seriously screwed up) or something like that.  Vodka will add nothing to the cocktail other than more alcohol, whereas gin adds flavors and aromas that are essential to the harmony of the whole. Personally, I believe that the words “vodka” and “martini” should have nothing to do with each other. That’s a losing battle, but vodka Negroni?  Never!

So we were talking about Campari, which is an example of a whole family of drinks called “bitters” and which are a specialty of Italy. They have ancient history and where probably originally made for medicinal purposes by steeping herbs in wine.  There are many who swear by bitters (amari in Italian) as digestive aids and I do believe Campari stimulates the appetite.  The bitter component came traditionally from herbs like rue and wormwood.  And the word “wormwood” is the root of the word “vermouth.”  And since the next few summer cocktails involve vermouth, I am going to digress and talk about that highly underrated beverage.

Vermouth is flavored and fortified white wine. It was invented by Antonio Benedetto Carpano of Turin in the year 1786.  Carpano may have named the drink after a German beverage that had been flavored with wormwood (wermuth, in German), a very bitter herb that was used as a remedy for stomach ailments among other things (In Romeo and Juliet, Juliet’s nurse reminisces about applying wormwood to her breast in order to wean Juliet.) We don’t know for sure whether Carpano’s invention actually contained wormwood. He may just have loved the sound of the word when he ran across reading Goethe. In any case, the drink became popular along the Mediterranean coasts of Italy and France and numerous producers created their own versions that could be red, white, dry, sweet or in between. Today, dry vermouth is always white, but the sweet can be either white or red. You probably already have an open bottle of dry vermouth and my first advice is to throw it away or use it the next time you cook. Like any wine, it can’t stay open forever and if you only use it for the occasional martini, it has been open too long.

As mentioned above, vermouth is made by fortifying wine with additional alcohol and flavoring it with herbs. Originally, the alcohol served to stabilize the wine and keep it from turning to vinegar (just as with Port) and the herbs were added to cover off flavors. Clearly, nobody was making Vermouth from great wine and nobody does today. But, unlike in Carpano’s time, Vermouth is now made with perfectly decent cheap wine that you might not want to drink with dinner but which has nothing wrong with it.  The herbs can include cinnamon, coriander, chamomile, thyme and any number of others. There are many brands available and each is made from a proprietary recipe. Since vermouth is never really expensive, it’s worth shelling out a bit more for something you really like. “But,” you ask, “what am I going to do with it other than make Martinis?”  Well, for one thing, your Martini will be much better if made with fresh vermouth.  For another, vermouth on the rocks (with a twist of lemon peel, I think) is a perfect middle ground between a glass of wine and a cocktail. And it makes a far better wine spritzer than any Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay you might have on hand because all those herbs give it flavors that you can still taste even when diluted with sparkling water.  Finally, as suggested above, if you think your vermouth is going stale, use it for cooking and open a fresh bottle to drink

Just as most people’s only use for dry vermouth is the martini, most people only think of sweet vermouth in terms of the Manhattan (a drink which I have had only bad experiences). This is a pity, as sweet vermouth can be wonderful and it is with sweet vermouth where you can really see a difference between brands. There are quite a few flavor profiles and degrees of sweetness and you may need to taste a few before you find your favorite. While several of the widely available commercial names are just fine, there are several artisanal examples that are worth seeking out.  Antica Carpano may or may not be the original 1786 recipe, but there is no question that it is terrific vermouth. Dolin, from France is also excellent (they also make what is probably the best dry vermouth available). If find you like vermouth, you might also try Lillet, from Bordeaux.  It’s not technically vermouth, but it’s close enough. It’s absolutely delicious on the rocks or mixed with sparkling water.

What do you do when you have  bumper crop of cucumbers?  You make a cocktail that will help you toast the excellent harvest!

Click here for the video recipe for this delicious summer-fresh cocktail

One of the thrills of owning a farm (or even a sizable backyard) is the joy of walking out and plucking fresh chicken eggs right from the roost.  At Beekman 1802, the eggshells come in the palest shade of blue to a rich chocolate brown,  and the yolks are as bright as a flower.  We wanted to develop a simple recipe that would have you screaming “summer!” before the fork ever hits your mouth

Ingredients:

8 eggs

½ cup of sliced black olives

2 tablespoon of capers

3 cloves garlic – peeled and minced

The juice of 1 lemons – freshly pressed

5 sprigs flat parsley – leaves minced

6 tablespoons mustard (choose the variety you like best)

1/2 teaspoon salt

Day lilies

Preparation:

Boil the eggs in shell for 5 minutes. In the meantime, peel the garlic cloves.

Combine garlic and salt in a mortar and pound them into a fine paste with the pestle. Add the lemon juice and mix well.

Mince the parsley leaves in a small

Remove the eggs from the heat and briefly run cold water over them. As soon as you can hold them with your hands, peel them. It’s much easier to peel them when they are still warm. Slice the boiled eggs with a knife or an egg slicer and place them in a bowl. Add the garlic and lemon paste and mix.

Add the olives, capers, and mustard and scatter the minced parsley, and mix well but gently. Serve at room temperature or a little bit cooled.

Serves: 4 as appetizer

Preparation time: 10 minutes

Cooking time: 5 minutes

When planning for a weekend brunch, we pluck the blooms out of our bed day lilies, remove the stamens and anthers and use the bloom as a serving cup

This from a reader of this blog:

“Hopefully you can assist, we have a wedding coming up and need a purple drink, any suggestions?”

Well, yes and no and, finally, yes. I take it that the reader means something very purple and not just a purple tinged red (like a young red wine) that will look exotic and fun in the glass. I can offer some suggestions, but I do so reluctantly.

There is nothing that will provide that color without some help. Blueberry juice comes the closest and you could use a blueberry-cranberry juice cocktail to make a Cosmopolitan or Metropolitan, but it would be more red than purple.  Purple is a secondary color that is obtained by mixing red and blue.  So the easiest thing would be to add a small amount of blue Curacao – the only blue beverage I know of – to your favorite red drink (assuming we’re not talking about a bloody Mary) until you have a color you like.  This way you could make a purple Cosmo, Metro, Campari and soda, etc.  But here’s why I have a problem with it.

There is not a single naturally occurring blue food. Blueberries, grapes and red cabbage only appear blue because of a thin coating of dust on their exteriors. They are actually purplish red.  In nature, blue usually indicates something alkaline or with a high copper content. Alkalinity is unpleasant at best and toxic at worst (think bicarbonate of soda for a benign example and photographic chemicals for an intense one) and most copper compounds are lethal. So, while not every red drink may be naturally colored, blue Curacao is supremely unnatural.  Although the coloring used to make the Curacao blue may be completely benign, I find the stuff creepy.  Blue is nature’s way of saying ‘don’t put this in your mouth’ and Beekman 1802 is dedicated to things natural.

But I do have another suggestion. Sharon Springs is the hometown of Eben Klemm, one of America’s foremost mixologists and a very old friend of mine. In fact, I gave him his first bartending job.  He once served me a purple cocktail based on beet juice and he was gracious enough to share the recipe with me when I asked him for a suggestion. So here goes:

1 ½ oz Goslings Black Seal Rum

1 oz Averna bitters

¼ oz simple syrup

½ Lemon Juice

½ Beet Juice

To make the simple syrup, mix equal parts sugar and water and heat, stirring constantly until sugar is completely dissolved. Bring to a boil, remove from heat and let cool

Puffy, Pit-ty, Frenchie.

While there’s debate about whether the traditional cherry French custard-y, pancake-y dessert is correctly spelled Clafouti or Clafoutis, there should be no debate about whether the cherries should be pitted before going into the dessert.  The correct answer is that they shouldn’t.

What? An unpitted fruit dessert served to guests?? Why, that’s un-American. Exactly.

Clafouti (pronounced “Cla-FOO-tee”) is a dessert to be savored. Not chomped down like a Hostess Cherry Pie. The french know that there should be plenty of time during a meal to take small bites and fish out the pits. But the pits aren’t merely there as speedbumps. They also add flavor.

Arrange the cherries in the pan, preferable so that they don't touch each other.

The cherry is part of the genus Prunus, the same family as the almond. And the pit of the cherry, when cooked, imparts a faint bitter almond flavor. And we all know how well cherry and almond flavors go together. Now you know why. They’re cousins. It’s like a family reunion in your mouth – minus the drunk uncle.

Back to the clafouti. It’s one of the easiests – yet still impressive – desserts to make when the fruits of summer are bursting. The clafouti can me made with all manner of berries, but the cherry is still the traditional favorite. All you need to adjust is the amount of sugar depending on the sweetness of the berries. Search around for recipe varieties – there are many. But here’s our favorite:

Cherry Clafouti

1/2 flour

1/4 t salt

2 eggs

1/3 C sugar (a little less if using sweet cherries.)

3/4 c milk

1/4 t almond extract (if using pitted cherries or if you desire a stronger almond flavor.)

2 T butter

powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Place butter in heavy skillet, or 9 inch cake pan, and place in oven until it melts. Combine all other ingredients in food processor, or blender, or bowl. When butter is melted, add to other ingredients, leaving a thin coating of butter in pan.

Arrange cherries in pleasing pattern on bottom of pan with butter coating. Place pan in refrigerator. The cooling butter will hold the cherries in place. Why? Just a sec…

Blend ingredients in processor until they make a smooth batter. Remove pan with cherries from refrigerator, and pour batter over cherries. See? The congealed butter keeps the cherries from rolling all over the place when you pour in the batter.

Place pan in oven and cook for 20 minutes or until edges are brown, and middle is still a bit jiggly and custardy.

Sprinkle with powdered sugar, And serve warm. Clafouti should be eaten in one sitting, since it will not keep well. Not that that should be a problem.

Just watch out for those pits.

Wine and cheese…ah, what else does one need in life except some good bread? Well, for starters, one needs the right wine with the right cheese, because there is such huge variety in both. So what goes with what?  There are a number of guidelines, but few rules.  Before getting into the details, I should say that for the most part, most cheese will do most wine no great harm. But to really savor the match, here are some things to consider.

First, I believe that cheese generally belongs at the end of a meal, not as a cocktail snack. Most cheese is too filling and rich to start an evening and the flavors are often too strong. If you want to serve cheese before dinner make sure to select something that isn’t too creamy or pungent but, as will become obvious, these rules have many exceptions.

One place to start is the provenance of both the wine and the cheese. Wine and cheese from the same place are often perfectly matched. Munster – and I mean the real, slimy, stinky, almost runny, washed-rind cheese from Alsace and not the cheese-flavored paraffin they slice behind the deli counter – is perfectly matched with aromatic Alsace wines. Similarly, the great goat cheeses of the Loire Valley (Selles-sur-Cher, Ste Maure, etc) go perfectly with the wines of the region and one can almost tell by tasting that the fresh, slightly grassy wines of Sancerre come from the same soils as the fresh, slightly grassy Crotin de Chavignol. However, regional affinity only goes so far. Lombardy does not produce a wine to match with Gorgonzola, and although Burgindians may drink the local wine with Eppoisses, their local cheese, I think it’s a match made in hell. And what about all those places that produce cheese but no wine (Ireland, Normandy, Wisconsin, Vermont) or produce wine but no cheese (Bordeaux)?

If we look at wine and cheese by stylistic groups, we can make certain generalizations that will work most of the time.  I might as well say that, just as with wine, there is an enormous difference between huge industrially made products and more natural ones. Just as one wants wine to tell the story of where it was made and by whom, so cheese should have a distinctive character that is determined by where the cow, sheep or goat grazed, and how the cheese was made. Some cheeses are better at one time of year than at another and some can only be made seasonally (like the Beekman 1802 Blaak). I have never tasted Ricotta like what I had in Sicily in March, when the hillsides were the brightest green I have seen anywhere. How can one expect the same product in July when the hills are parched and brown?  Even if unpasteurized cheese is very hard to find, we can at least seek out products that are made in small batches and which is made from the milk of animals that are fed a natural diet like Brent, Josh and Farmer John do at the Beekman Farm.  So I have no use here for anything that comes pre-sliced or wrapped in plastic.

Let’s start with the easy cheeses, the ones with not much flavor but lots of rich texture. These are the double and triple cream cheeses. This means that the fat content of the milk has been enhanced with additional cream. These cheeses are soft but not runny, very rich and quite mild. They include St André, Explorateur, Brillat-Saverin, Pierre Robert etc. They are a fairly neutral match for almost any wine but they are so rich that they need something to cleanse and revive the palate. I like them best with Champagne or another very dry, sparkling wine, like a top Vouvray, Franciacorta or California sparkling wine. The acidity of the wine cuts the richness of the cheese and I like the contrast in texture between the smooth and creamy cheese and the prickly carbonation of the wine (scrubbing bubbles!).

Next, let’s look at Brie and Camembert family. These are soft cows milk cheeses with white, “bloomy” dry rinds that are the result of a mold called Penicillium Camembertii and which is essential to the ripening of the cheese. Unfortunately, the popularity of Brie means that there is a lot of indifferent stuff out there that bears the name, but a really good Brie makes one realize why there are so many wanna Bries. It is rich, buttery and slightly salty, with an aroma that reminds me (in a good way) of boiled cabbage or Brussels sprouts. Look for Brie de Maux for the very best quality. Camembert looks much like smaller Brie, but it has a more concentrated flavor and when ripe it can be… well…ripe. I have heard it said that a good Camembert ought to smell like the feet of God. The rinds of these cheeses are edible, but sometimes, if they have been aged in a damp place, they can start to smell of ammonia. The cheese itself is usually untainted, so just skip the rind. These cheeses are quite easily paired with wine. In my opinion they do best with young, fruity wines, either red or white. If you want red, try Beaujolais – for a perfect match try a good Beaujolais with St Marcelin, which looks like a tiny Camembert and which is so runny it always comes in a little cup — and for white, try a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. However, if you feel like something finer, go right ahead.

The big technical difference between the Brie Family, with their dry white rinds, and the Munster, Pont l”Eveque, Eppoise, Tallegio family, with their slimy orange-reddish rinds, is that the latter are rinsed at regular intervals with wine, beer, brandy or brine as they age and the most noticeable feature that these cheese share is their smell. These are truly stinky cheeses and the stink obliterates the subtleties of many fine wines. As mentioned above, Aromatic white wines, such as Alsace Riesling or Pinot Gris Gewürztraminer, Argentine Torontes, or Spanish Alberino are my recommendations. Avoid fine or subtle red wines, although this might just be one of the few good matches for a bruiser of a Zinfandel with fifteen percent alcohol (let me know if you try it, I’m not about to).

Then there are the semi-soft cheeses like St Nectaire, Tomme de Savoie, etc. They have thick dry rinds that are sometimes edible but sometimes too dry. When ripe, they should be slightly springy when pressed, neither hard nor runny.  These tend to be mild and earthy, often with aromas of wild mushrooms. They are great cheeses for almost any red wine and will not hurt a white. They are a good safe bet if you want a cheese to go with the end of a very good wine and want to be sure the cheese will not be too competitive.

Hard cheeses are another excellent partner for fine red wines. Aged Gruyere, fine aged cheddar, Parmigianno-Reggiano, and aged Gouda (once again, the real thing, not the deli version) have good, strong flavor, but are not so sharp that they will dull your taste buds. And their saltiness brings out the sweetness of the wine. Buy the best examples of these cheeses that you can find. It will be worth the money.

So far I have only been discussing cow’s milk cheeses, but there is also a world of goat and ewe’s milk cheese to explore. Probably the best-known ewe’s milk cheese in the U.S. is Pecorino Romano, a very sharp, hard cheese that is mostly used for cooking. I confess, I don’t like it very much by itself and I suppose I would not pair it with any wine that I thought too good to cook with. However, there are other very fine Pecorino (ewe) cheeses, especially from Tuscany and Spain (Manchego is the most famous). As with cow’s milk cheese, the age and texture of the cheese will help determine the pairing. If it is young, and soft, go with a crisp, dry white, if old and hard, a good Chianti, or Rioja will pair very nicely.

As for goat cheese, as mentioned earlier, they seem to have a special affinity for Sauvignon Blanc, but stick to the old world, where the wines tend to be dryer and more restrained. As mentioned earlier, the Loire Valley is home to both the world’s best goat’s milk cheeses and the best Sauvignon Blanc.

And then there is blue cheese. Blue cheese can be hard or soft and can be made from the milk of cows, ewes or goats, but it always smells and tastes unmistakably blue. The color and flavor are the result of a mold called Penicillium Roquefortii that sometimes occurs naturally (especially in Roquefort, as the name implies) but is more often introduced by piercing the cheese with long needles containing the mold spores. You can tell which is which by the patterns of blue in the cheese. The saltiness and funkiness of most blue cheese can kill almost any wine, so the traditional and, I think, best pairing is sweet wine, whether the match is Roquefort (once again, the real thing, from the Pyrenees) and Sauternes, Stilton and Port or Maytag Blue and late Harvest Zinfandel.  But you might want to use this as an occasion to try some wines you’ve probably never had before. See if you can find Banyuls, a fortified Grenache-based wine from Southern France, or Riciotto di Soave, a sweet white wine from northern Italy.

It can be fun to put together a selection of cheeses and pair each one with a different wine, but it takes a lot of work and planning and it involves opening more bottles than one is likely to finish. So use these guidelines either for selecting your cheeses to flatter the wine, or vice versa.

A little lighter than regular ice cream, but just as tasty and easy to make.

We came up with this recipe for a Fourth of July cookout at our friend Michelle’s house. (An incredible historic stone mansion with a famous “100 mile view” overlooking the Mohawk Valley. She presciently purchased it for next to nothing in the 1990’s. Which is why she’s one of the best realtors in the area.)

In late June/early July we’re usually drowning in strawberries, and are always looking for new ways to use them. This ice cream uses a custard base, since it’s not easy to extract cream from goat milk.  The result is a smooth, creamy, but somewhat lighter version of ice cream.

We also decided to use honey instead of sugar. Honey can often overpower flavors in a recipe, but fresh strawberries have such a floral scent, especially when cooked, that we thought the honey would blend in nicely. We also used a bit of vinegar in the strawberry sauce to substitute for lemon juice. The acidity brings out more of the sweetness in the berry.

As the custard base is made first, this ice cream could easily be made from nearly any summer fruit.

But remember, there’s a little bit of planning involved. The custard base must be chilled overnight before being churned in your ice cream maker. (We swear by our KitchenAid Ice Cream Maker Attachment.) And chances are that your ice cream maker bowl needs to be frozen overnight, too. And then there will be an additional few hours to hard freeze your mixture after churning.

But really. Strawberry Honey Goat Milk Ice Cream! Isn’t a little work and wait worth it?

Ingredients

5 C goat milk

5 egg yolks

1 qt fresh strawberries

1.25 C honey

1 t vanilla, or one vanilla bean

3/4 t vinegar (apple cider or balsamic)

First make the custard ice cream base:

Must be made the day before.

Combine goat milk, 3/4 C of the honey (reserve remaining), and vanilla in medium saucepan. (If using vanilla bean, scrape seeds from pod and add both seeds and pod to milk.) Slowly heat milk to a simmer.

While milk is heating, in separate medium bowl, whisk egg yolks and another 1/4 C of honey. (again reserving final 1/4 C) Whisk until egg yolks and honey are a bright yellow.

Once milk has reached simmer, turn off heat. Allow to cool slightly below simmering. (Remove the vanilla bean if using.) Pour about 3 C in a slow drizzle into egg yolks/honey, whisking as pouring. It’s important to raise the temperature of the egg yolks very slowly. Once incorporated, pour that egg yolk/milk mixture back into the remaining milk in the saucepan, again whisking continually.

Reheat milk, yolk mixture to approx 150 F. No hotter than 160 F. Yolks will curdle at a temperature between 150-170 F. Custard will slightly thicken as it heats.

You may strain the custard mixture for a smoother texture if desired. Put custard mixture in refrigerator overnight.

Strawberry sauce for swirling in:

Also make the day before.

Rinse and hull 1 Q of fresh strawberries. Slice any larger ones in half. Add strawberries, vinegar, and remaining 1/4 C honey to medium saucepan. Over medium low heat, smash strawberries slightly with the back of a wooden spoon juice is released. Cook until strawberries are just soft, but still hold their shape.

Remove strawberry pieces with slotted spoon. Place in bowl. Turn heat up, and reduce strawberry juice, honey, and vinegar mixture by approximately 1/2. (If strawberry pieces are still releasing juice in their bowl, add that to sauce as it’s reducing.)

Return strawberry pieces to reduced sauce, place in refrigerator overnight.

Following day:

Make custard base in your ice cream machine according to manufacturer’s directions. (Do not add strawberries in at the beginning.) Once custard base it’s finished, keep maching running. Pour in the strawberries and reduced sauce while machine is making it’s final turns. Do not over blend. Try to achieve a swirl effect.

Many people are disappointed that the ice cream coming from their machines is not solid as soon as it’s finished stirring. But the final ice cream mixture should look more like a heavy milkshake. Then it can be packed into a suitable, tightly covered container and placed in freezer to harden.

Chinotto

If I had to trace my interest in food and wine to one event, it would probably be a trip to Europe that I took with my father forty years ago this summer. We crossed over to France by ocean liner (returning on the cheapest airline then operating), went to visit my grandmother in Switzerland and then to visit friends of the family in Italy. The food was magnificent the whole way and my father was pretty liberal about letting an eleven year old taste any wine he was drinking, although sometimes he usually watered it down a bit for me.

It was only when we got to Italy that I discovered what a real love of food meant. One day we went on a drive into the Dolomite Mountains with our friends to have a picnic.  We had packed plenty of snacks for the trip but we hadn’t been on the road for ten minutes when we had to stop for Cappuccino (my first ever) and pastries. The trip continued by such fits and starts because every few miles there was some other marvelous thing to eat, and our friends would not let us miss any of them. I must have tasted quite a few things for the first time that day but all I remember is that Cappuccino and one other thing at the end of the day.

We had gotten home and it was time for supper, not that we needed it but skipping a meal was unthinkable. So we gathered on the terrace for an aperitif and our hosts handed out glasses of something bright red on the rocks, which everyone mixed with sparkling water. The color was gorgeous, the aroma was intriguing and when I tasted it I thought I had never had anything so vile in my life. It was very sweet and horribly bitter at the same time and reminded me of a cough syrup I had once had to take.

Well that was then and this is now and the vile red stuff was Campari, one of my favorite things about summer. Campari is celebrating its hundred and fiftieth anniversary this summer and I am going to suggest a number of ways to enjoy it over the next few weeks.

Campari is the most famous example of a family of “bitters” that are an Italian specialty. The can be made from any number things (artichokes, herbs, or fruit) and can be based on wine or any other spirits. While the flavor takes a bit of getting used to, I find the bitter finish is supremely refreshing in hot weather and stimulates the appetite. Campari is made from chinotto, a kind of bitter orange that grows in southern Italy.  I’ll tell you more about its history and what it is made from in my next post, but on the next hot and humid day, treat yourself to a Campari and soda.

1.  Take a tall glass with several ice cubes and fill it about halfway with Campari.

2. Fill the rest of the glass with sparking water and stir to mix.

3. Garnish with a slice of lemon or (my preference) orange.

Since Campari has a very strong flavor, it will take you a few tries to get the proportions just right for yourself.  I prefer not to mix it too thoroughly, so the flavor becomes stronger as I drink.  When it becomes too strong. I top it up again with more sparkling water.

The tiny elderberry blossoms grow in flat lacy clumps, or "corymbs."

Most people drive by roadside clumps of wild American Black Elderberry bushes every day without realizing what they’re missing. Sambucus Canadensis grows wild in the hedgerows and gullies of Eastern America, and is an absolutely amazing plant. In the early summer, it’s blossoms can be harvested for making deliciously delicate simple syrups and cordials. In late summer, the lacy bunches of tiny blue-black berries can be used in pies, jellies, and wines.

Beyond simply being delicious, the berry extracts are also medicinal – having been shown in studies to reduce the recovery time of Influenza B.

European lore claims that cutting the elder wood releases the wicked spirit of the Elder Mother. Elderwood is used in all sorts of witchcraft stories, and is historically the material out of which “magic wands” are crafted. Burning the wood is considered quite risky, as superstition says it might be followed by the death of a loved one.

Elderberry bushes are terribly easy to grow. They seem to pop up wherever bird droppings containing seeds land. But even though they are found near many roadside ditches, it’s not because they like their feet wet, it’s because they like the constant even flow of water the ditches edges provide. Chances are you can convince a farm neighbor to let you dig some up to replant, but if not, you can purchase some here.

Our most impressive elderberry bush grows in the least impressive place. Between the silo foundation and the barn.

We don’t seem to have too many wicked spirits around the Beekman but we do have several outcroppings of Elderberry bushes. The most prominent one squeezes out from between the base of the old silo foundation and the barn. Because the birds seem to get the berries long before we have a chance, this year we decided to harvest the blossoms instead, to make an old European favorite: Elderflower Fritters.

The beautiful lacy stems of the elderflowers are still visible after frying.

This is a fairly simple recipe, but for good reason. The flavor and fragrance of the elderflower is quite mild, so the fritter batter is very lightly seasoned. For added sweetness, we drizzle a little clover honey over the fritters before serving them as part of a weekend morning brunch on the Beekman porch.

The stamens of the tiny flowers form pretty little brown dots in the fritters.

ELDERFLOWER FRITTERS

Five large elderflower bunches

1.25 cup of flour

2 small eggs, lightly beaten

1 cup of very cold seltzer water

3 T of Cointreau or other flavored liqueur

Clover honey or confectionary sugar for drizzling/dusting.

Light canola oil for frying.

Cut the elderflower clumps into florets. Not too small. About the circumference of the top of a tin can.

Fill heavy pot with about 2 inches of oil. Heat to 350F.

Sift flour into a small bowl. Make a well in the center and pour in the eggs. Stir until just combined. Add in liqueur, stir. Pour in seltzer water slowly, while mixing with wooden spoon. The fritter batter should be the consistency of a very thin pancake batter, or like double cream.

Once oil is heated, dredge an elderflower floret through the batter, covering thoroughly. The delicate flowers will seem to clump together in one messy blob. Don’t worry. As you drop the battered flowers into the oil, they will pop and separate again, resembling their original form. It’s important for the oil to be the correct temperature, or they will not separate. Fry in small batches, adding the fritters to the oil one by one, being careful not to crowd.

Fry the fritters for about one minute before turning over. Fry the other side for another minute or until golden brown. Remove from oil, and place on paper towels to absorb excess oil.

Drizzle with honey, or dust with powdered sugar. Serve hot.

A plate of Elderflower Fritters, drizzled with honey on a bed of elderflowers and leaves.