drumroll….

“Cooking is at once child’s play and adult joy.
And cooking done with care is an act of love.”

Craig Claiborne

Well, the clarified milk punch is all filtered out and ready to go live in the basement–
And yes, it will live in the fridge as I tend to be a little leery about anything made today
that dates back nearly 300 years.

It will remain indefinitely at the ready only to be happily pulled out,
poured and sipped as the occasion dictates.
As long as the pitcher load holds out, the glasses will be lifted.

So just to re-cap.
Remember we went from this on Monday…

To these shots on Tuesday…

To these shots on Thrusday…

To the finished product…

It is a smooth sipper.
Refreshingly cool (as it is kept in the fridge)
With welcoming warm notes of spice–
And oddly, it is reminiscent of Apple cider with nary an apple in sight.

I actually like it–a lot.

As I researched all kinds of clarified milk punches—some called for various teas, and/or
pineapple or blood oranges instead of the lemons—
As well as anything from vodka to brandy to a variety of rums.

Being a bit of a purist, I wanted to try a recipe that was more historically correct
to what would be used by someone who was in the throes of the milk punch heyday.

Enter Benjamin Franklin.

My few changes to Mr. Franklin’s original recipe was to use 3 cups of cognac and
3 cups of dark spiced rum to make up for the 6 cups of brandy he called for–
So that is most likely as to why mine still has a tinge of brown vs yellow.

I also added 1 1/4 cups of sugar rather than just 3/4 cup—3/4 white 1/2 demerara
as the amount varied from one recipe to the next.
I think 1 cup of sugar would suffice.
It’s just that my lemons seemed to be bitter so I wanted to offset any added bitterness.

I added 6 fresh cardamon pods which adds a heady perfumey vibe.
1 whole anise star
A hardy dose of sprinkled cinnamon as well as the stick.
and 4 cups of the boiling milk rather than 3.

Some recipes recommend letting the concoction sit for weeks at a time…
other recipes said to store it in an oak barrel for a smoky aged edge…

I actually have two small home kitchen aging barrels I bought
a few years back for some small scale aging of spirits…but if I wanted a smokey taste…
I’d have simply opened a bottle of burnt peat, I mean scotch.

If I had opted to continue filtering over the next several days, the liquid would continue to lighten up
and clear up even more…but since the filtering through the coffee filters has taken
literally all day…I’m fine with some remaining cloudiness.

There were some recipes makers who opted to leave some of the milk solids in as they thought
it offered a bit of creaminess to a “creamless” drink—which might be more of a hybrid between
a typical milk punch and a clarified milk punch.

However, with all of that said…this is a lighter type of drink as well as very inviting…
If you like notes of warm fall spice, you’ll enjoy a small glass full.
I do fear however that if you don’t watch out, it might just lull your senses—
because if you get a little too comfortable you might just imbibe in one too many drams 🙂

Here’s a link to Ben’s recipe-
I think Ben would be proud…

Benjamin Franklin: Milk Punch Aficionado. Here’s His Recipe.

Again, Cheers!

Next, as the days grow darker and a bit colder, a more New Orleans style milk punch
just might be in order…stay tuned.

deviating with a touch of alchemy and a creative past…

“Whisky is liquid sunshine.”
George Bernard Shaw


(step 1 to clarified milk punch / Julie Cook / 2019)

I must beg to differ with Mr. Shaw’s quote…
Clarified milk punch is liquid sunshine, not the amber hue of whisky.
But more about that in a minute.

Ok, so I’m straying a bit from our normally well-worn Spiritual path…
And it is with good reason.

I’ve decided that sharing a bit of the creative will be a wonderful way for us to
clear our heads a tad.

Life has been so heavy as of late has it not?

Be it in our own small personal little corners of the world,
or be it in the greater world at large…life has indeed been heavy.

And just to be honest…I’m tired of all this constant state of heaviness.

Today is Oct. 22nd.

That day falls on the calendar of what would be the season of Fall, aka Autumn…
you choose.
It is the time of a waning sun, cooler temps and those oh so pretty leaves…
or so one would think.

Two weeks ago our car registered 102 degrees.
Two weeks ago it was still October.

We were not driving in some heat-ridden place like southern Arizona or southern Hell,
rather we were in what is considered “north Georgia.”

As in, we have been living in a perpetual state of drought-ridden, heat relentless misery
since May.

Fall leaves are falling…they are simply falling off after having first turned brown.

“They” tell us that if the rains, which have thankfully begun,
continue and if the temperatures start to become more seasonal,
we have hope of salvaging “Fall”…meaning we might have some
crisp cool color after all.

And so despite living in this perpetual state of the neverending heat of Hades…
aka Summer,
my thoughts are turning to Fall.

As in pulling out those moth-eaten sweaters, gathering colorful pots of mums and
stacking up those beautiful heirloom pumpkins.

Praying for a chill in the air so we can have a skip to our step!

My thoughts are also turning to warm and spicey.

So you’ve got to know that a retired art teacher, who has also been a consummate
hobby cook for most of her life would need to find something creative and
challenging for this time of year.

Enter the clarified milk punch.


(Gastro Obscura)

A couple of weeks back my husband and I had headed down to the beach for a
few days for some much needed R&R.
It was a late anniversary celebration.

One mid-afternoon we found ourselves sitting at the hotel’s Cuban inspired bar looking
for a bite to eat and perhaps a bit of added libation.

The bartender went over the drink menu with us and told us that one of the drinks
on the menu was no longer available…they were out.
It was called something like ‘Wheyt a minute’.
A play on the word whey…as in curds and whey…
the clear liquid that comes when the curds of the milk (the milkfat)
are separated and removed.

My cooking and concocting curiosity was suddenly piqued.

I was told that the bartender, who was the creative genius behind the drink,
would be working that night.

And so later that night, after we’d returned from dinner out,
I found myself wandering back into the bar in search of this mysterious mixologist.

The bar was busy and humming with a crowd of fun-filled folks—
many of whom had arrived in town for various beach backdropped weddings.

I squeezed myself in, way up to the beautiful wood-paneled bar flanked by shelves of
colorful bottles all filled with glistening hued liquids…
squeezing past the myriad of merrymakers and asking for the bartender by name who
I knew had a quiet yet unique creative flair.

I asked about his drink that was no longer available.

Over the rising crescendo of noise cast from the pretty merrymakers gathered
in and around the packed bar, the bartender who was obviously pleased that someone
actually was curious about his handiwork, explained that he makes a clarified milk punch
for each season.
The batch for summer was now spent and he was in the process of brewing the
winter’s warmer spicer batch.

He offered a brief rundown of how it comes about.
There was fruit, liquor, spices, milk…there was steeping, cooking, filtering,
separating…and there was waiting.

As in all good things…right?

He explained that the new batch wasn’t ready yet…it still needed to steep.
He’d be putting it on the menu the following week.
I sadly explained that we were heading home the following day.

Alas.

He told me to hang tight and he’d slip to the back and bring me a taste as soon as
he had a lull at the busy bar.

I patiently waited…as it turned out that the wait was well worth my time.

He made good on his word…

My new friend presented me with about 2 ounces of a cold, slightly cloudy,
yellow-tinged liquid that had been poured into a pretty crystal glass.

I took a sip…there was a hint of pineapple, warm spices like nutmeg,
a cream-like flavor albeit a clear liquid. It was chilled and satisfying,
smooth and easy. Inviting and cheerful.
Nothing I had ever tasted before.

My curiosity was now ramped up even more.
I told him I was going home to make my own.
He smiled.

(a thank you to my friend Sair at the Havana Beach Bar and Grill)

And so in turn, I have researched.

History takes the drink back to the early 1700 hundreds with one story dating back to the
1600 hundreds in England.

Those who frequent New Orleans are familiar with milk punches that look,
well, like milk.
We think of things like egg nog—rich, thick and creamy.

But it was this clarified version that held my curiosity.
Milk and clear seemed like an oxymoron.

Some are made with pineapple, others are made with lemons or oranges…
with both peels and juice.
Hence the curdling agent.

There are riffs with add-ins such as black or green tea, coriander, nutmeg, cinnamon, and anise.
There is rum, or cognac, or brandy, or port, or a little of each.
There is some sugar and there is boiled milk.

But using milk as just milk would be too easy…however making milk clear, well,
that would require some skill.

A clarified milk does not run the risk of going bad.
It doesn’t spoil.
The fat is removed.
It has no special needs such as refrigeration in order to keep it cool and good…
it doesn’t need to be quickly consumed before going bad.
It allows one to linger…like a cozy sweater-wearing, fire crackling evening…
delightfully lingering.

The story goes that when Charles Dickens died he had bottles of clarified
milk punch stored in his cellar.
100 years following his death, the bottled punch was still quite palatable.

After all of my “researching,” I’ve opted to go with a recipe that was the personal favorite
recipe of none other than Benjamin Franklin.


(NY Times)

The man who gave us the lightning rod, the postal service, libraries, bifocals,
not to mention helping to craft our democracy, has also offered us his recipe
for a clarified milk punch.

Step one, as pictured above, is simply a mix of 3 cups each of rum and cognac along with
the peels of, count them, 11 lemons!
That will steep until tomorrow…steeping until I remove the peels and then begin
the real magic.

I’ll offer more tomorrow or as time allows.
But just know…that amber-hued, lemon studded, liquid will eventually be soft and clear.

My batch will be small…about a gallon or so.
My bartender friend has to make a much larger batch but hence when it’s gone, it’s gone.

No matter the amount, it will keep in the refrigerator for whenever I want a nice
small glass or should I have need for a punch bowl.

Stay tuned…

a time of signs

The Pharisees and Sadducees came to Jesus and tested him by asking him
to show them a sign from heaven.

Matthew 16:1

“Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death,
and you will be hated by all nations because of me.
At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other,
and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people.
Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold,
but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.
And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations,
and then the end will come.

Matthew 24:9-14

signposts

Today I found myself once again on the interstate, a place that I am more times then not…
As the sun was headed toward the west, I was finally heading home form Dad’s…
who by the way is hanging on and still in the game….but just barely….
Merging onto the interstate, it suddenly dawns on me that the ratio of big rigs to cars
was not in the favor of the cars.

Some days are like that as I suppose as there are certain days that are considered
more or less “travel days” for those transporters of all things commerce.

Those “travel days” tend to make me a bit more nervous as I don’t especially enjoy
barreling down the interstate sandwiched in-between 5 lanes of tractor trailer
trucks and little ol me….

Focusing on keeping up with the flow while my mind drifts back and forth over to Dad
and to the things I need to be taking care of for them, my eyes and mind begin to focus
on the truck in front of me…
“The World’s most award winning Tequila”

Hummmm…I think I’ve had it in a margarita once….

Changing lanes, as I was working my way over to merge onto the next interstate, I
found myself behind another truck boasting the “2013 Award Winning Whiskey Bourbon, Roses”

Hummmm…I’d never heard of it before…yet found myself wondering if it hails
from Kentucky or Tennessee as only Kentucky whiskeys may be labeled bourbon…

As I exit onto the entrance ramp to the next interstate, I’m precariously passed by
a massive Little Debbie’s truck….

Hummmmm…Now I begin wondering if someone isn’t trying to tell me something…
as in…am I suppose to be heading to the nearest bar or to grab some
not so healthy snack cakes….???

Signs were all over the place it seems…
vying for me to remember, to consider, to seek, to find…????

So as I was finally on the home stretch of highway, eventually taking me home,
the whole notion of signs and their meaning flooded my mind,
shadowed by the significant and current visit taking place in Washington of Israel’s
Prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu….

I ruminated over the importance of the renewed support offered by our
new administration to Israel…
and to what that now may means for a nation who returns her support to the chosen
of God….

As some would flippantly quip that it means nothing,
while others would bemoan it just means more trouble,
while still others see great significance being found in this renewed support.

I have always believed in the importance of the United State and her relationship with
the Jewish state…

Yesterday we heard in his greeting to President Trump,
along with those gathered in the East Room,
Prime Minister Netanyahu offering an explanation as to why Jews are called Jews.

“Well, the Chinese are called Chinese because they come from China.
The Japanese are called Japanese because they come from Japan.
Well, Jews are called Jews because they come from Judea.
This is our ancestral homeland.
Jews are not foreign colonialists in Judea.”

The age long quest for the acknowledgement of existence.

Yet that acknowledgement continues being met with resistance…

The Middle East is a vast and formidable land..
It has always been shrouded in mystery, hostility, and suspicion.
With the seeming epicenter to be found in the obscure city of Jerusalem…

A city that is the knot in the bow tying and binding the three
greatest monotheistic religions together…
whether they like it or not…bound they are.
Yet it is a city that has been fractured and divided since its very formation…

The hostilities between Jews and Muslims is age old, dating back most notably to
the time of Abraham.
The Christians are really the upstarts in the mix, having entered the fray 2000
years ago.

So say what you will…
be it coincidence, myth, lore, legend, history, the Divine…or a combination of
each component…
The land of Judea is for the chosen of God…and peace will come…but…..

The prophet Zechariah reminds us with his words:
“Behold, I will make Jerusalem a cup of drunkenness to all the surrounding peoples,
when they lay siege against Judah and Jerusalem.
And it shall happen in that day that I will make Jerusalem a very heavy stone for all
peoples; all who would heave it away will surely be cut in pieces,
though all nations of the earth are gathered against it” (Zechariah 12:2-3)

It seems that conflict will always be found in this epicenter…
only until such time comes that there is a final
collision between both Light and Darkness….

In Psalm 37 we hear David proclaiming that “the meek shall inherit the earth,
and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace”
(Psalm 37:11).
And in Leviticus we are told, “I will give peace in the land, and you shall
lie down, and none will make you afraid”
(Leviticus 26:6)

We are reminded, told, and shown that there will indeed be a day of peace in
this land that has only known dispute, war, hatred and suspicion.

So until that day of peace and reconciliation is upon us…
It may behoove each of us to consider the signs we are offered as we
look, wonder and wait…..

With Christ—“the Prince of Peace”—ruling the earth,
“there will be no end” to the peace that will envelop our planet (Isaiah 9:6-7).
As Isaiah hopefully noted,
“LORD, You will establish peace for us” (Isaiah 26:12).
And as each individual obeys God, he or she will enjoy peace.
“You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You,
because he trusts in You” (verse 3).

(Life Hope & Truth)

Vanilla Extract or is Cookie a Lush?

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Ok, so I was thumbing through a recent copy of Southern Living, what woman/ girl of southern origin does not currently have, or at some point previously had, a subscription to this bastion of all things southern?? Let’s not digress shall we….

I flipped to an interesting little article about making homemade vanilla extract. Now any good cook worth his or her salts (salt…so many types and varieties, we’ll talk about that later, ok? I told you, no digressing!!) has a decent bottle of quality vanilla in their arsenal of cooking accoutrements, none of this “vanillin” artificial phony flavoring business. It’s the real deal or nothing when it comes to vanilla extract.

And speaking of which—there are so many types and varieties–Tahitian, Bourbon Madagascar, Mexican…and then there are the brands–too many to name. Magazines such a Cook’s (no relation sadly) has their famous “test” kitchen which will often put things such a vanilla extract to the test attempting to uncover the best brand for use in the home kitchen.

Let’s just say that this “cook” will solve that little mystery quite easily—we’re just going to make our own—then that way, we know what it is we’re getting—no guesswork for us—we’re good like that 🙂

Now this is going to require a trip to the local liquor store. That can be a bit harrowing for some, unnerving for others and for a few of us—pure wonder and joy. Now I know what you’re thinking, trust me, I’m not about to lead you down the path of ill repute. This is where we must find the extract part of Vanilla extract.

There is something fascinating to me about a liquor store. All those beautiful glass bottles, in a vast array of shapes and sizes, all full of glistening translucent liquids in all of those shimmering colors of tints and shades. Some of my friends worry a little bit about me and this “fascination” but I trace this back to my dad, aka Mr. Mole.

When I was a little girl, each Saturday morning my dad would head out to the neighborhood liquor store/ package store, with me in tow, in order to buy a case of beer and a few bottles of liquor for the usual weekend gathering of my parents friends– who would come over to cookout or watch the latest football game. I always looked forward to these gatherings as everyone brought their children and that meant a wonderful time of play.

Now it must have been ok back then for a dad to take his little girl in the liquor store with him as he made his purchases, because as that said little girl, I recall being mesmerized by all of the bottles of colors reflecting light–as beautiful as stain glass, in a round about way –what else could it have been? To this day I can wander aimlessly in a liquor store or wine section in the grocery store marveling at all the bottles. I know–odd.

Having been an educator for the past 30 years, trips to a liquor store in our rather smallish community are akin to playing with fire…a real career busting move. Not a real good idea. One must either go on the outskirts of town, or even to a neighboring community or go incognito. A teacher does not want to draw negative attention their way. You know how these small towns can be…. Anywhoo, back to our trip to procure our “extract.” I’m retired now, it’s ok.

I knew of the traditional use of vodka, having read that cheap vodka is perfectly suitable—no reason to break the bank for this little endeavor–not unless you plan on sipping along as you prepare your recipe. Let me discourage that–wait until we finish.

I picked out a liter of some Scandinavian business—you need about 3 cups worth per bottle of homemade brew. Next I wandered over to the Bourbon section as I had read that using bourbon or rum can make for a wonderfully rich and robust extract that is nice when making chocolate things such as cookies or cakes.

But here is where I had a trouble. I am obviously from the South, I attended the University of Georgia 30 some odd years ago. Bourbon and the South, bourbon and SEC football, bourbon and life at UGA years ago… ok… well, that’s like Andy and Barney, Lucy and Ethel, Fred and Ginger—they just go, one with the other. I just couldn’t bring myself to buy the cheap stuff. That would be a sacrilege. I didn’t break the bank, but I didn’t go cheap. This shall be my Chateauneuf du Pape of extract.

I have read that you should gently heat the liquor of choice being very very careful, just to give it a little warmth as too much heat and all this alcohol, well lets just hope you have the fire department on speed dial—CAREFUL.

I also read that you should use 5 vanilla beans per cup of liquid–the more the better in this case. Oh, I almost forgot…the beans!! I didn’t even begin to attempt buying up enough bottles of the lone vanilla bean on the spice shelves of the grocery store at about 8 to 10 bucks per bottle…instead, go to Amazon (oh how I love Amazon–the go to for all your needs, digressing…) where you can find Madagascar or Tahitian beans—24 for about 19 bucks. You can buy more or less and spend more of less depending on who you buy them from and the type you want. I bought one pack of both Madagascar and Tahitian.

I bought a couple of cute little glass bottles with corks to use for the gift giving end of this endeavor but I’m using empty liquor bottles for the initial brew mix. A mason jar is perfectly fine—whatever you have on hand.

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Cut the beans in half by using a shape knife (don’t sneak into the Vodka or bourbon yet as you need precision when cutting these skinny little suckers). I stuffed the cut beans down into the bottles then poured in the liquor through a funnel. Some folks say to scrape the seeds from the beans, adding them to the bottle/ jar separately–I didn’t do this–I simply cut them in half and pushed them down into the bottles.

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For the bourbon extract I actually mixed 1 cup of honey bourbon with 2 cups regular bourbon. You could use just straight honey bourbon if you prefer or experiment with maybe some dark spiced rum. I may “release the Kraken” and give that a-go in a small bottle. I even thought to add some coffee beans but thought I should hold off and see how these do first. Mustn’t get too carried away.

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Once you have beans in bottles and you’ve topped off the bottles with your liquid/ liquor, let the bottles sit before capping, that is if you heated your concoction–allowing them to come to room temp. Cap or cork the bottles and give a good shake for about 30 seconds. Then place the bottles out of the way in a cool, dark spot and wait 6 to 8 weeks—longer is better—I’m thinking 3 months. When is Christmas? Let’s see, if this is May…8 months—perfect. Sorry to all those in need of instant gratification.

You may decant the extract, pouring through a strainer or cheesecloth, into a decorative bottle for gift giving. I am, however, opting to keep the beans and any sediment. As you use your liquid extract, you can just top off the bottle, as long as the beans are present. You may also take out the beans, if you no longer want them floating around, and add them to a jar full of sugar and make vanilla sugar. This is what I do with all left over vanilla beans. It’s great in coffee, tea or added to recipes.

My kitchen now has a delightful heady aroma –rich and intoxicating…and no, I have not been drinking the extract!! The kitchen now just smells really good.

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Have fun experimenting with additions—next I’m going for flavored vinegars and oils–ooooooohhh