Mexican Street Corn Potato Salad

Summer officially hit last night at 10:42pm ET, and you know what that means. Millions of backyard barbecues, picnics, family reunions and summer parties are straight ahead! Some of my fondest memories are closely tied to the foods served at such occasions, and I’m a firm believer in the notion that one can never have too many recipes for summer side salads.

For the past couple of summers, I’ve steered away from mayonnaise-based salads, mainly because they don’t hold up well in the summer heat, at least for outdoor parties. So my husband’s special request last weekend should not have been any surprise when I mentioned whipping up a potato salad to serve with our grilled coffee-rubbed tri-tip.

“Can you make more of a mayonnaise-y dressing this time? Not one of those vinegar things you’ve been doing.”

Well, okey-dokey! We have a running joke at our house about how long it takes for foods to come back around in “rotation,” so I’m happy to oblige a sincere requst.

I think I satisfied his craving with this creamy, mayo-dressed potato salad that conveys all the flavors of Mexican street corn, also known as eloté. The textures were great, and the dressing and seasonings were unmistakably eloté— creamy, sweet bite on the corn, tangy from the mayo and lime, a sharp saltiness from the crumbled cheese, and just spicy enough to be interesting. It was fantastic with the tri-tip he grilled for us, and we enjoyed this salad again with lunches during the week as well as with spicy grilled chicken tenders a couple nights ago. I’m sad that it’s gone!

This recipe makes enough for eight servings (unless you do excessive taste-testing like I did).

Ingredients for my Mexican street corn potato salad

Any finished dish is only as good as what goes into it, and given that this is a bit of a twist, I’ll break down the role that each ingredient played in this salad. Note that some ingredients may be tricky to find, so I’ve offered reasonable substitutions for those. Here we go!

Yukon gold potatoes – these are a perfect balance of creamy and starchy, and because the skin is so tender, I don’t bother peeling them. Choose potatoes on the smallish side if possible, so that every chunk has a bit of skin on it. You’ll cook them gently in salted water until fork tender, then drain and let the steam roll off before chilling.


Mayonnaise and sour cream – My dressing is made with equal parts of these two, and if you can get your hands on Mexican crema, use that in place of sour cream. 

Roasted corn – we love grilling corn in the summer time, and we sometimes make extra ears so that we have them for dressing up another dish. If you don’t have a grill (or the time to mess with grilling corn), pick up a bag of frozen fire-roasted corn, which will work just as well. We like the one that’s available from Trader Joe’s.


Eloté spices – traditionally, Mexican street corn is seasoned with any number of ground chile powders, including chipotle, cumin, cayenne, ancho or pasilla. I used ground ancho and cumin in my dressing, but if you don’t have the individual chile powders, don’t sweat it! Just pick up a bottle of Tajin seasoning, either in the spice aisle or the International aisle. Trader Joe’s chili-lime seasoning is very similar, and I also love their “Everything But the Eloté,” to season my corn before grilling. It also happens to be excellent on popcorn!

Three terrific options for flavoring this salad, from hottest to mild.
Check out the saltiness ahead of time so you know what to expect.

Scallions – this is not traditional for Mexican street corn, but I can’t make potato salad without some variety of onions, and this one works well with the other ingredients. Use the white and green parts, and slice them thin.

Lime – the lime zest and juice are what really make the flavors of this salad pop. Purchase organic citrus because you’ll be using the peel, and choose heavy fruit with a smooth skin for the most juice and brightest flavor.

Sugar – every Mexican street corn I’ve ever tasted had a slightly sweet flavor, and a small spoonful of sugar in the dressing made this perfect. Don’t skip it. 

Fresh cilantro – authentic for Mexican street corn, but if you are among the 20% who find that it tastes like dish soap, then just skip it. There isn’t another herb similar enough, and the dish won’t suffer without it.

Crumbled cheese – ah, I saved the best for last! Mexican street corn is traditionally slathered with mayonnaise dressing and sprinkled liberally with cotija, a Mexican hard cheese that is reminiscent of parmesan, but less pungent. Cotija can be a little tricky to find outside of a specialty cheese section, but not to worry— feta, the dry crumbly kind, is a lovely substitute. And that leads me to a funny story…

A side note, on “sending the husband to the grocery store”

I love my husband dearly, and his sensibilities in the kitchen are usually right on target, but sometimes, I still make specific and detailed notes on the list when I send him to the store by himself, and I might even text him a picture of an exact item I need. For this recipe, I was very clear that if cotija cheese was not available, he should get “dry crumbled feta,” and in the margin, I wrote, “PLAIN, NO FLAVORS!” So you can imagine the stink-eye he received when he returned with a “flavored feta that sounded interesting.” My dramatic Leo side went bonkers as I yelled, “Geezus, can you not read???” But then I saw what he found, and of course, it was literally perfect for this recipe! Gotta trust my man sometimes, ya know?

You NAILED it, Babe! 😘

Making this Mexican street corn potato salad

From this point, it’s a pretty standard potato salad in terms of mixing, so I’ll let my photos do the talking while you imagine this deliciousness coming to life in your own kitchen. Find full instructions below in an easy, click-to-print recipe card that you can save for your files. Welcome back, summer! 😎


Mexican Street Corn Potato Salad

  • Servings: About 8
  • Difficulty: Average
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This is two of my all-time favorite carbs, together in one really flavorful salad! Plenty of seasoning options, so you can make it as spicy (or not) as you like it!


Ingredients

  • 2 lbs. Yukon gold potatoes, skin-on and cut into 1-inch chunks
  • 1/4 cup mayonnaise
  • 1/4 cup Mexican crema (or sour cream)
  • 3/4 cup finely sliced scallions
  • 3/4 tsp. ancho chile powder
  • 1/4 tsp. ground cumin
  • Salt and pepper
  • Zest and juice of one lime
  • 1 tsp. cane sugar
  • 2 ears fresh yellow sweet corn, roasted or grilled until charred but tender
  • 1/3 cup cotija cheese, divided (you’ll mix some into the salad and sprinkle the rest on top)
  • fresh cilantro

Substitution notes: If you don’t have the means to roast or grill the fresh corn, don’t hesitate to pick up a bag of frozen fire-roasted corn. We love the one from Trader Joe’s, and it would work terrific here. If you cannot find cotija cheese, dry crumbled feta is a reasonable substitute; consider chopping it finer if the crumbles are larger than peas. Ancho chile powder is a spice unto itself, without salt or other ingredients. If you can’t find it, or if you want flavor without heat, swap in smoked paprika.

Directions

  1. Place the potatoes in a pot with cold water, and heat over medium-low until they are fork tender. Drain gently and return to the hot pot with the lid off, so that excess moisture can escape through the steam. Sprinkle 1/2 tsp. salt over the hot potatoes and cool them to room temperature, then transfer to a large mixing bowl and refrigerate for an hour or longer.
  2. In a medium bowl, combine mayo, crema, scallions, spices, lime and sugar. Adjust to taste with salt and pepper. Put the dressing in the fridge to chill until you’re ready to assemble the salad.
  3. Stand the corn on end and use a sharp knife to cut the roasted kernels off. Add them to the potatoes and fold in gently with the dressing until the salad is consistently coated. Fold in about half of the cotija cheese and a bit of the chopped cilantro, reserving the rest for garnish.
  4. Transfer the potato salad to a serving dish, and sprinkle the top with remaining cheese and cilantro.


Hibiscus Bee’s Knees 🌺

The saying goes that there’s nothing new under the sun, and though I generally believe it to be true with food and drink, I do think that sometimes a twist on a classic is different enough to warrant calling it “new.” Case in point, this tart and sassy summer cocktail.

It’s refreshing, balanced and beautiful!

Mine is a two-ingredient update to a Prohibition-era cocktail, and it pushes a classic into the modern, with a vibrant reddish hue that is perfect for Juneteenth or the summer solstice. The key difference is hibiscus, in the form of pure hibiscus tea bags, which I simmered in boiling water long enough to draw out the tart, floral flavors. A few pieces of crystallized ginger added a subtle zing of spice, and I think it would be even better with fresh ginger if you like the flavor.

The resulting strong tea was sweetened with a generous squeeze of local honey, for a syrup that is thin enough to blend well with the cocktail ingredients in a shaker filled with ice. I do not recommend adding honey straight, as it would remain heavy and thick. But in an equal parts syrup, it’s perfect.


This hibiscus-ginger syrup will keep in the fridge for about two weeks, and I have no doubt that it would be great in other cocktails or even as a flavor enhancer for sparkling water or tonic on a hot summer day. But for this featured cocktail, we need gin— the traditional spirit for bee’s knees— and fresh lemon. Grab a cocktail shaker, a lemon squeezer and a peeler to strip a bit of peel for garnish, and chill down a cocktail glass with ice water.

Once the syrup is made, it’s quite a simple drink.

Get your lemon strip first, then cut the lemon in half for easy squeezing into the shaker. Add an equal amount of hibiscus-ginger honey syrup and then two ounces of your favorite gin. While you enjoy these refreshing images, let’s take a trip down nostalgia lane to learn more about the original “bee’s knees.”


How did the bees knees come about?

Back in the days of Prohibition, otherwise known as “the U.S. Government’s 13-year attempt at controlling its citizens,” grown adults had to get creative to find ways to cover up the questionable flavors of crappy liquor, the only kind they could get their hands on at the time. There were bootleggers, of course, who smuggled booze into the cities. And there were also people making their own at home, and the term “bathtub gin” arose from that era, a fair description of what was likely not very palatable. 

Honey and lemon juice, both strong flavors on their own, did a terrific job of hiding the paltry gin enough for them to choke it down and get their buzz on. People enjoyed the combination so much that the the drink became known by a phrase that everyone was using at the time to describe what was “the best.” The bee’s knees!

Early recipes for bee’s knees were in the “equal parts” category, meaning that they used the same amounts of gin, lemon and honey. Yikes. For modern times, the recipe is adjusted to a more standard ratio of 2 ounces gin and 3/4 ounce each of the other two ingredients. It’s nicely balanced, not too sweet and not too acidic.

I found a fun and informative article that delves deeper into the history of the bee’s knees, including its possible connection to “the Unsinkable Molly Brown,” as well as some interesting variations that I’d love to try sometime. Check it out here if you’re curious.

Back to our cocktail!

Today, of course, we have plenty of options for quality gin, and I imagine that your favorite would work just fine in this drink. I’ll also say that if you have always considered yourself to be a non-gin drinker, the bee’s knees might be the cocktail to change your mind. 

I’ve chosen Tanqueray No. 10 this time, for no other reason than the store was sold out of my usual Ford’s gin. Actor Stanley Tucci recently collaborated with Tanqueray No. 10 in an ad campaign, where he discussed the proper way to order a martini, and his description of the spirit won me over. Or maybe it was his voice. Either way, there’s a distinctive citrus note running through this gin, making it a nice anchor for the lemon and hibiscus.

Shake your cocktail ingredients with plenty of ice until the outside of the shaker is uncomfortable to hold. Strain it into the chilled glass and express the lemon peel over the drink, finishing with a wipe of the oily side of the peel all around the edge. 

The pretty, bright reddish hue of this drink makes it suitable for a Juneteenth celebration, where the color red symbolizes strength and resilience. And I can’t think of a more appropriate drink for summer than one made with fresh citrus and bright florals. This one deserves to be on repeat for the whole season!

Hibiscus Bee's Knees

  • Servings: 1 cocktail
  • Difficulty: Easy
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This two-ingredient twist on a classic cocktail is bright, beautiful and delicious enough to deserve a spot in the rotation all summer long. Use pure hibiscus tea bags, or seek out dried hibiscus flowers to make the syrup.


Ingredients

  • 2 oz. citrus-forward gin
  • 3/4 oz. fresh lemon juice
  • 3/4 oz. hibiscus-ginger honey syrup (see below for recipe)
  • A strip of lemon peel, for garnish

Directions

  1. Add a generous amount of ice, plus water, to a cocktail glass to chill it down. Set aside while you prepare the cocktail.
  2. Combine gin, lemon juice and hibiscus-ginger honey syrup in a cocktail shaker.
  3. Add at least one cup of ice and shake vigorously for about 20 seconds. Strain into the chilled glass. Squeeze the outside curve of lemon peel over the drink, swiping the peel all around the edge of the glass. Drop peel in glass or cut a slit in it to balance it on the edge.

Note: Make the hibiscus-ginger honey syrup early enough to allow it to fully cool before using in cocktails. Strain the syrup into a sealable bottle or jar, and keep it in the fridge for up to two weeks. This recipe will make enough syrup for about six cocktails or cocktails.

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup cold water
  • 2 pure hibiscus tea bags
  • About 6 pieces crystallized ginger (or half as much fresh sliced ginger)
  • 1/2 cup local honey

Directions

  1. Bring water to a gentle boil in a small saucepan. Turn off heat and add tea bags and ginger, swirling and steeping for about five minutes. Remove tea bags. Stir honey into the tea and continue to steep with the ginger until cooled to room temperature.
  2. Strain out solids and transfer syrup to a jar or bottle.


Spanakopita Scampi

Thank goodness for frozen shrimp. I mean this sincerely, as there are many times when life is too busy and even the best-laid plans can’t be pulled together in time to feed the hungry faces in my house. 

We have a weekly ritual here that begins around Sunday morning, when my husband, Les, and I sit down with our respective calendars, the long-range forecast displayed on one of our phones, and we do our best to map out what we are going to do about dinner in the week ahead. This includes a quick inventory of what we already have in the fridge and freezer, consideration of what nights might be good for cooking outdoors, acknowledgement of whether one of us has a hellish workday that week, and— last but not least— how much time we can allot to said meals and which of us will be cooking them.  

It’s a lot of moving parts and sometimes, our meal game falls apart and we need to punt. 

On such an occasion recently, I postponed a more-involved food plan in favor of this ad hoc dish, which turned out so good that I wrote down the ingredients to share it here. It’s something of a mashup of Italian shrimp scampi and Greek spanakopita, and it met all the requirements for a busy weeknight: quick, easy, flavorful and relatively healthful. 

Not too shabby for a last minute improvisation.

What ingredients do you need for spanakopita scampi?

My dish features peeled shrimp (fresh or thawed), garlic and plenty of olive oil, onions, spinach, feta, lemon, parsley and dill. And though I had both angel hair and linguine pastas— two options I’d typically reach for when making scampi, I decided to use the whole wheat orzo that was feeling ignored in the pantry. Orzo is a staple pantry ingredient in Greek cuisine, so it seemed a logical stand in for the spanakopita element of the dish, but almost any small pasta shape you like would work fine.

The most time-consuming part of this meal was thawing and prepping the shrimp, a task that I almost always hand off to Les’s capable hands. If you’re in a hurry, purchase shrimp that is already peeled and deveined to save valuable time. 

How to make spanakopita scampi

Everything else comes together quickly, beginning with a patient poaching of minced garlic in a large sauté pan. This should be done at a very low temperature, with almost no bubbles evident, so that you don’t burn the garlic. After about 10 minutes, increase the heat and add the diced onions, tossing to soften them in the warm, garlicky oil. Add the chopped spinach (I didn’t have enough so I supplemented with some thawed and squeezed frozen spinach), and then the fresh herbs.


Get the orzo going and toss the feta into the spinach mixture, then transfer that to a bowl and keep it warm. Heat some more olive oil in the same pan, or a bit of butter (or both), and cook the shrimp until it’s just barely a pink/coral color. Always use a delicate touch when cooking shrimp, as it only takes one extra minute to overdo it. My method is to place the shrimp into the hot pan one at a time in concentric circles, and by the time the last shrimp goes in, the first is ready to turn. If you can see a bit of color on the inside curl of the shrimp, that’s your sign to turn it over and cook the other side. The smaller ones will usually cook faster, and if your burner has a hot spot (as mine does), then check the ones there first.


When all the shrimp have been turned over, squeeze fresh lemon over them and turn off the heat. Drain the orzo and toss it in a bit more of butter. Plate it up with the warm spinach-feta mixture and shrimp. Enjoy!

Spanakopita Scampi

  • Servings: 4
  • Difficulty: Average
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This is a quick and easy weeknight dinner that combines two of my all-time favorite Mediterranean classics. If you don't have orzo, use any kind of small pasta shape that you have on hand.


Ingredients

  • 2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil (possibly more for cooking shrimp)
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/3 cup diced sweet or yellow onion
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 4 fat handfuls baby spinach leaves, rough chopped* (see notes)
  • A handful each of fresh dill and flat-leaf parsley, chopped
  • 1/3 cup feta, drained and cubed or crumbled
  • 1 Tbsp. butter* (see notes)
  • 1 pound fresh wild-caught shrimp, peeled and deveined
  • Juice of 1/2 fresh lemon
  • Cooked orzo and fresh lemon slices, for serving

Note: Fresh spinach is best, but if you don’t have enough, you can supplement with some frozen chopped spinach. Microwave it in a glass dish until thawed, then press out as much water as possible and add it to the onions after they’re already softened. Proceed with the rest of the recipe as usual.

I was fortunate to have a bit of “dill and shallot” compound butter left over from another recipe, and it was perfect for cooking the shrimp! If using regular butter or oil, consider adding a few shakes of dried dill weed at this step, or reserve a bit of fresh dill for sprinkling over the top of the finished dish.

Directions

  1. Please a large skillet over low heat and add two generous swirls of olive oil with the garlic. Cook this very low and slow, with almost no bubbling action in the pan, so that the garlic become very soft and fragrant. It should take about 10 minutes, and this mellows the flavor of the garlic. Too much heat will give the garlic a burned and acrid taste.
  2. When the garlic is softened, increase the heat to medium and add the onions. Season with salt and pepper and toss to sauté until onions are translucent. Add spinach by the handful, tossing until each handful has wilted before adding the next. If supplementing with frozen spinach, wait until the fresh spinach has fully cooked.
  3. Add fresh herbs and toss for about 30 seconds, then add feta and remove the pan from heat. You may either transfer this mixture to a bowl (keep it warm) and use the same pan for the shrimp, or use a second pan for the shrimp.
  4. Add butter (or oil) to the skillet over medium heat. Place shrimp down in the hot butter and season with salt and pepper, and a quick shake of dried dill if you have it. Watch the shrimp closely, and turn them when you notice the color changing on the inside curl. Depending on the size of your shrimp, two to three minutes total should do it. After the shrimp has cooked on the second side, squeeze the fresh lemon juice into the pan and toss to coat.
  5. Toss cooked orzo with a bit of butter or oil, and serve it with the spinach mixture and shrimp piled on top. Add a lemon slice on the side for one last burst of freshness.


Savory Pimento Cheese Puffs

Every year for our annual Kentucky Derby gathering, my husband and I include pimento cheese in some form or fashion. It’s a classic Southern thing. But you know that I get bored making the same things over and over, and finding new ways to incorporate the classics is what makes me (and my guests) happy.

In past years, Les has contributed with crowd-pleasing homemade pimento cheese, and our table has also been graced by our spicy pimento cheese deviled eggs, which are so addictive, and an unexpected twist. This year, pimento cheese made its mark in these soft and savory cookies that pay homage to yet another Southern finger food, the “cheese straw.” 

A Southern party feels incomplete without pimento cheese.

If you’ve ever attended a wedding reception, bridal shower, funeral or other family gathering in the American South, you’ve probably seen some squiggly little cheese cracker-looking things served alongside the sweet tea and ham biscuits. They resemble pieces of straw, having been squeezed out onto a baking sheet through the star plate of a cookie press. Cheese straws are crispy and wispy, made with three simple ingredients— butter, finely shredded cheddar and flour, though some folks add cayenne to shake things up. These were my inspiration for the pimento cheese puffs I’m sharing today.

The idea for subbing in pimento cheese struck me when Les and I were packing up to leave after a weekend at our favorite North Carolina beach a couple of weeks ago. We had hardly touched the tub of spicy pimento cheese that we’d bought for seaside snacking, and my mind was on the Derby Day party that was coming up the next weekend. I thought, why couldn’t I do an ingredient swap? Mayo has enough fat to sub for butter, but also a bit of vinegar and of course, egg yolks, and I imagined that the resulting “cookies” might be a bit softer than a typical cheese straw. I was correct.

I loved how soft and spongy these cookies turned out!

These were delicate and puffy, but also deeply flavorful from the ingredients in the pimento cheese, including a few finely diced onions. I highly recommend this twist for any “share-a-snack” event that you may have coming up this summer!

How to make pimento cheese puffs

I’m going to be intentionally vague about the exact amounts of each ingredient I used because the consistency of the pimento cheese can vary widely from one brand to another. I’ll focus instead on the ideal outcome of the “dough,” which should be dense, heavy on cheese, with just enough of the mayonnaise and/or butter to bind the mixture together. For the size of our Derby Day crowd, I mixed in additional sharp cheddar, and I figured that I may as well also mix in some extra pimentos for good measure.


The spicy pimento cheese we bought at the beach was low on mayonnaise (just the way we like it), and for this reason I added a dollop of mayo to my mixing bowl, along with a couple tablespoons of softened salted butter plus a splash of Worcestershire sauce. The pimento cheese, additional cheddar and pimentos went into the mixing bowl and I blended it until it was evenly combined. Next came the flour, and I followed the rule of thumb from my Kentucky bourbon pecan cheese biscuits here, blending in about one cup of all-purpose flour for the combined volume of the other ingredients. Again, give or take as needed, depending on the overall consistency of your mixture. The dough should be firm enough so that you can stand a spoon or spatula straight up in the bowl. Chill the mixture in the fridge for a few hours or overnight before baking.


My teaspoon-size cookie scoop made quick work of this task, resulting in puffs that measured about an inch and a half across— perfect for our appetizer spread. I have ordered several sizes of these quality scoops from King Arthur Baking Company, and I find that I reach for them for many things other than cookies. 

For texture, I lightly pressed each cookie with a fork before baking, though it didn’t have much impact as the cookies puffed a lot as they baked. The cookies are best served the same day, but any leftovers may be stored at room temperature in a covered container.

Savory Pimento Cheese Puffs

  • Servings: About 12
  • Difficulty: Easy
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Any self-respecting Southern hostess will find a way to include pimento cheese on the party table. These soft and flavorful bites were my creation for our latest Kentucky Derby bash, and they turned out terrific.


Ingredients

  • A dollop of mayonnaise
  • 2 Tbsp. softened salted butter
  • 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
  • About one cup prepared pimento cheese* (see notes)
  • Up to one cup finely shredded cheddar cheese (sharp or extra sharp for best flavor)
  • 2 Tbsp. jarred pimentos, drained and patted dry
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour

Note: My recipe was made with a low-mayonnaise pimento cheese. Some prepared spreads are very loose and almost runny, and I do not recommend that consistency.

Directions

  1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, stir together the mayonnaise, butter and Worcestershire sauce.
  2. Add pimento cheese, additional cheddar and pimentos, and mix with beater blade until evenly combined.
  3. Add the flour, half at a time, blending with the beater blade just until incorporated. Chill dough in the refrigerator for at least a few hours (up to overnight) before baking.
  4. Heat oven to 350° F, with rack in center position. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat.
  5. Portion cheese cookie dough onto the parchment in rounded teaspoons. Press lightly with a fork. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes, until cookies are puffy and slightly browned on the edges. Transfer right away to a cooling rack.


Pineapple Upside-down Old Fashioned

You’d think after so many years of creating in the kitchen, that it might take a really innovative technique or recipe to wow me. And that would be incorrect. Sometimes, it’s the simplest of things. Take for instance, my recent decision to “do something, anything” with the scraps of rind and core that I trimmed from a perfectly ripe, fresh golden pineapple.


Was I channeling my pal, Dorothy from New Vintage Kitchen, and following along with her “Scrap Happy Planet” series of ideas about reducing food waste? Sure, I was. And did I feel a sense of pride in knowing that my frugal grandmother would also be giddy at my effort to use up every bit of the pineapple? Of course. What I didn’t see coming was the flood of ideas I would conjure for using the glorious syrup that resulted from this experiment, and I’m eager to hear your ideas as well.

I’ll admit that I did not entirely come up with this “pineapple syrup” idea on my own; rather, it struck me when I received an email from Imbibe magazine. I’ve been subscribed to this publication (print and digital) since Covid began, and I’m always inspired by the innovative approaches of top bartenders across the country. Check out their site for even just a few clicks and you’ll see what I mean.

What dropped in my inbox was a recipe for a cocktail called “Pineapple Old Fashioned Du Jour,” and I couldn’t leave that alone because it already had half of my blog’s name on it. My husband, Les, and I both adore old fashioned cocktails and this one sounded sweet, tropical and perfect. Most of all, it gave me inspiration for the pineapple scraps that were staring at me from the fridge. A sweet syrup is created when Demerara sugar (or a mix of light and dark brown sugars, which is what I had in the pantry) is muddled with the leavings of the pineapple, drawing out all that beautiful sweetness. After several hours of macerating, you add a splash of boiling water to thin it out a bit and then strain out the solids.


It was so easy, and a great way to eke out every last bit of flavor from my pineapple. The only problem now is that I have almost too many ideas for this pineapple syrup, which tastes exactly like the sticky sweet part of pineapple upside-down cake. I mean, exactly. 

Pretend you didn’t catch me enjoying this! 😂

For the sake of follow-through, I tried the pineapple old fashioned du jour that Imbibe had dropped in my inbox. It was tasty, but didn’t hit all the notes I expected after nibbling on that syrupy pineapple core. Call me greedy— I wanted the whole dessert at that point, so I came up with a twist that incorporated a bit of vanilla-scented Tuaca, an Italian brandy liqueur that seems to make everything taste a little bit like cake. I increased the amount of pineapple syrup for my drink and used smoked cinnamon bitters to further emphasize the dessert flavors.


A drizzle of Luxardo cherry syrup syrup into the bottom of the glass gave it an “upside-down” vibe, and a classic pineapple and cherry garnish was just too obvious.

Cheers to having your cake and drinking it, too!

This process creates quite a large amount of syrup, and it only keeps for a couple of weeks in the fridge. We love the old fashioned drinks, but we couldn’t finish this in drinks alone. So I went for broke and made a carrot cake for Easter, using up a generous glug of this intense pineapple syrup to drench the layers before slathering on the lemony cream cheese icing. Dorothy loved this idea as well, especially with crushed pineapple in the cake itself. Here’s how it turned out.


The syrup would also be delicious drizzled over vanilla ice cream— or, better yet, my easy cinnamon ice cream! With a cherry on top, of course! My hairstylist had another easy idea (she and I always share foodie stories), and she asked, why couldn’t you even just drizzle that syrup on a slice of pound cake and top it with some whipped cream? Yes, Julie, why the heck not?!

What would you want to do with this delicious idea?

Pineapple Upside-down Old Fashioned

  • Servings: 2 drinks
  • Difficulty: Easy
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This deliciously dessert-y cocktail makes use of all the scraps trimmed from a fresh pineapple, and I highly recommend seeking out the Tuaca liqueur for the cake-like notes it brings to the glass. Cheers!


Ingredients

  • 3 oz. bourbon (I used Elijah Craig small batch, which is 94 proof)
  • 1 oz. Tuaca liqueur (Italian brandy with notes of vanilla)
  • 2 oz. pineapple syrup (recipe below)
  • 2 dropper tips smoked cinnamon bitters
  • 2 bar spoons Luxardo cherry syrup for the bottom of the glass
  • Pineapple chunks and Luxardo cherries to garnish

Notes: Amarena cherries or another high-end cocktail cherry brand would be a fine substitute for Luxardo. The important thing is that the syrup should be thick so that it remains at the bottom of the glass rather than blending into the drink. If you only have maraschino cherries, I’d recommend omit the syrup layer or perhaps use a syrupy grenadine for the aesthetic.

My smoked cinnamon bitters are Old Forester brand, and I found them online at Bourbon Barrel Foods. They are excellent!

Directions

  1. Drizzle Luxardo syrup into the bottom of the glass and place a large ice rock on top of it.
  2. Combine bourbon, Tuaca, pineapple syrup and bitters in a cocktail glass. Add a generous amount of ice and stir to mix until the outside of the mixing glass is frosty.
  3. Strain slowly over the ice so that the cherry syrup does not incorporate. Garnish and enjoy!

Note: This cocktail recipe does require a fair amount of advance prep. Make the pineapple syrup the day before, and be sure to select a pineapple that is fully ripe for best results. Clean it really well and rinse with white vinegar solution before you begin breaking it down. This process yields about two cups of syrup, and it will keep in the refrigerator for two weeks.

Ingredients

  • All the rind and core pieces of a large, ripe pineapple
  • 1 1/2 cups brown sugar (I used a combination of dark and light; Demerara sugar was suggested by my inspiration recipe)
  • 1/2 cup boiling water

Directions

  1. Place all the pineapple parts in a sealable bowl (break or cut them into smaller chunks if needed). Sprinkle brown sugar over the scraps and use a cocktail muddler or heavy wooden spoon to smash the sugar into the pineapple. After a few minutes, the juices will begin to soften things up. Cover and let it rest for several hours to overnight. Stir a few times as needed to keep things macerating evenly.
  2. Pour boiling water over the macerated pineapple and stir gently to loosen up and dissolve any remaining sugar. Carefully remove the solid pieces and then strain the syrup through a fine mesh strainer. Transfer to a sealable jar or bottle and keep it in the fridge.


Beef on Weck (another Western New York classic)

Saturday marks the fifth anniversary of Comfort du Jour. I am 448 blog entries into the story of my life through food, and that boggles my mind a bit. I cannot reflect on my culinary passions without thinking of my maternal grandmother, and thinking about her makes me long for the flavors of “home.” This simple yet iconic sandwich of my old neck of the woods has been pushed around on my culinary bucket list since 2020, and I am aware that my procrastination in making it has nothing to do with ingredients or complexity. It has everything to do with my own expectation and the same old, six-word worry: 

What if I mess it up? 

Fear is a weird phenomenon, isn’t it? And for people who’ve been raised by perfectionists and other hard-to-please grown-ups, it becomes a normal state of mind that lingers long after the initial disappointees have faded into the background. Fear has kept me from a million things in this life, culinary challenges among them. But I threw caution to the wind last week and tried my hand at beef on weck, figuring, seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?

Yes, it was as delish as it looks!

This experiment was not without lessons, mind you, but the outcome was so delicious and so well received at my house (I made it while my husband’s son, Alex, was visiting from his home in Hungary), that you can bet I’ll be making it again and again, with these notes as my template. 

Whattya mean, no sandwiches?!

I am always happy to see Alex arrive for a visit. He’s a cool millennial kid who, like his dad, never met a stranger. His knack for making friends quickly is a great asset for someone who co-owns and operates a hostel in Budapest. In the quiet breaks in my work-from-home schedule, Alex and I had some great conversations, including several around food. When I asked him what kind of sandwiches are popular in Budapest, he hesitated a few beats and then admitted, “none, really.” Despite the constant stream of international tourists, the Hungarian capital is oddly bereft of good sandwich shops amid all the Asian and Italian hot spots aimed at visitors.

This, I thought, was a tragedy, and it was the final push I needed to get on top of making beef on weck. What American-born man doesn’t want a good, medium-rare roast beef on a bun? The bun, in this case, being a kummelweck roll (or kimmelweck, depending on who you ask), which is essentially a kaiser roll that has been adorned with aromatic caraway seeds and coarse salt. I wanted so much to make my own rolls for this, but I cheated a bit and gussied up plain kaiser rolls from my supermarket bakery. It worked perfectly.

The butcher always knows…

We are very fortunate to have a high quality, local-sourcing, independent butcher in our city. The guys at @SmokeCityMeats in Winston-Salem always set me up for success. When I asked Matt about getting an eye of round roast for beef on weck for three people with plenty of leftovers, Matt replied that he may as well set aside a whole one for me, and this cut was a little over five pounds. It seemed like A LOT, but it turned out to be exactly what we needed for our meal plan. This is why I trust my butchers, the same guys who hooked me up with the pork belly and tenderloin that became my fabulous porchetta, and the lamb for my tasty grilled lamb burgers and the duck breasts for my crispy five spice duck with cherry-pinot noir sauce, and the strip steaks I used in my reverse-sear experiment. They always know best, and I’m grateful for their expert suggestions.

I know it probably sounds like a commercial, but I swear that they are not paying me to promote their shop. I’m genuinely a happy customer who is proud to support local, and in return, we get to enjoy responsibly raised, incredibly flavorful local meats. It’s truly a win-win.

A method to my madness

It isn’t enough to have an incredible cut of meat— one also needs to know the best technique for preparing it, and for that, I’m trusting J. Kenji Lopez-Alt, the science-y chef whose method for dry brining has become my standard. Whether I’m prepping duck breasts, a Thanksgiving turkey or a pulled pork shoulder, you can bet I’ll be sprinkling it with salt and stuffing it into the fridge overnight. I cannot overstate how much this technique has elevated my cooking. The key is to place the meat in the fridge uncovered, so that the salt draws out moisture, dissolves into a brine and then soaks back into the meat. For my beef on weck, my salt was also peppered and spiked with onion powder.


This is scary the first time, because when you open the fridge the next day, the meat will look dry, tight and somewhat shriveled. The level of panic you feel will be directly related to the price you paid for the meat in question. My first time dry brining was a heritage-breed Thanksgiving turkey, and the price tag was about $100, so it was a huge amount of faith placed in Kenji’s knowledge and experience. It was also one of the most delicious turkeys I’ve ever done. This time, it was a $56 eye of round roast, and I was confident as could be. Try it once, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Horseradish and kummelweck (the signature flavors)

The horseradish sauce is merely a small bowlful of drained, prepared horseradish mixed with a spoonful each of sour cream and mayonnaise. It is quite pungent, and if you are not a fan of horseradish, you may want to skip this. But it is a key component in an authentic beef on weck. The important thing is keeping the horseradish flavor front and center, with only enough of the creamy ingredients to make it somewhat spreadable. You can make this ahead and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve.

For the kummelweck rolls, you may not find them ready-made if you are outside the Western New York area. Fortunately, it is easy to transform more readily available kaiser rolls simply by brushing them with a cornstarch slurry, sprinkling with coarse salt and caraway seeds, and baking until the seeds are set and the rolls are crispy again. The caraway, like the horseradish, is also very traditional for this sandwich. If you don’t care for the flavor, go with a sesame-topped kaiser instead. But if you skip both the horseradish and the caraway bun, you’re basically just eating a roast beef sandwich.


Achieving the perfect roast beef

This is not in my wheelhouse (hence my hesitation making beef on weck in the first place), but as luck would have it, a book that I gave Les at Christmukkah happened to have instructions for roasting eye of round— for beef on weck— right there on page 134! 

I didn’t follow every part of this recipe, but the roasting instructions were very helpful!

To this point, the only thing my recipe had in common with the one I found in Meat Illustrated was the specific cut, eye of round. Mine was twice the size called for, and I had already done the 20+ hour dry brine, which was not outlined in the book. But I needed a solid method for cooking said roast, and this one was perfect. It prescribed a low oven (275° F), a couple of heavy skillets (I went with a cast iron and my enameled Dutch oven) and a bit of oil for searing all the sides of the meat. My own instinct told me to placed the seared roasts onto beds of sliced onions, as I really wanted that flavor in the final mix. 


The first roast (in the Dutch oven) reached optimal temperature within 45 minutes, significantly less time than the second (in the skillet), which took an hour and 20 minutes. They were roughly the same size and went into the oven at the same time, so my best guess on this difference is that the ambient heat from the high sides of the Dutch oven get credit for the quicker result. Because the time cannot be trusted for consistency, I strongly recommend using an internal thermometer to gauge doneness. I followed instructions to wrap the finished roasts snugly in foil, which ensures that the juices redistribute evenly through the meat.

I could not resist carving the first roast as soon as it had finished resting, but my recommendation is to chill the meat overnight so that it can be sliced super thin for these iconic sandwiches.

Last but not least, the jus!

This part of the sandwich gave me the most pause, as I struggled to remember how the side sauce tasted. It was beefy, but not gravy-like. It was similar to au jus that one might find alongside a French Dip sandwich, but not as salty. I waffled quite a bit on how to achieve this traditional flavor, and of the three options I purchased, there was a very clear winner. 

This decision threw me for a loop, but the answer was so obvious in the end.

Let me cut to the chase and tell you that the beef broth won this battle. The consommé had a heavy soy flavor that was not working, and the dry jus packet (which I didn’t think to inspect until I was home with it) had exactly zero beef ingredients, so that was a hard no. My hungry husband, who had never had beef on weck in his life, made the winning suggestion to add a half packet of dry French onion soup mix to the sodium-free beef broth. It was perfect!


Assembling the beef on weck

The traditional, Western New York way to serve this sandwich is to first dip the cut sides of the kummelweck roll into the jus, then smear on a little horseradish spread and pile on the meat. I warmed the thinly sliced beef in the hot jus, and so I grabbed a few of the soft onions in the process, and this was not a problem at all. Extra jus and/or horseradish may be served on the side. 


Beef on Weck (a Western New York classic)

  • Servings: About 12 sandwiches worth
  • Difficulty: Average
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I've been craving this taste of home for a very long time, and a few trusted tricks helped me move this into the done column of my culinary bucket list!


Ingredients

  • 5 lb. eye of round roast, locally sourced if possible
  • 4 tsp. kosher salt
  • 25 twists freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp. onion powder
  • 2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
  • 1 large sweet onion, cut into thick slices
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 2 1/2 cups no-salt beef broth, combined with a teaspoon of cornstarch
  • 1/2 packet French onion soup mix
  • Horseradish sauce (recipe in notes)
  • Kummelweck rolls (see notes for instruction)

Note: For most tender, flavorful results, apply the dry brine ingredients to the meat and refrigerate at least overnight (up to 24 hours) before roasting. This will allow the salt to dissolve into the meat, creating a brine that ultimately absorbs back into the meat. You will need either a very large Dutch oven or perhaps two cast iron skillets for the roasting. If you only have one vessel, consider roasting only one piece of meat at at time. Rest meat at room temperature for one hour before roasting!

This roast is best sliced when very cold. If time allows, roast it the day before you intend to serve so that it can chill completely in the refrigerator after roasting.

For horseradish sauce, combine 1/2 cup drained prepared horseradish with 1 tablespoon each sour cream and mayonnaise.

Plain kaiser rolls are easily transformed into kummelweck rolls with a few simple ingredients. Heat oven to 400° F. Combine 2 tablespoons cold water with 1/2 teaspoon corn starch. Microwave the mixture until it thickens slightly. Brush onto tops and bottoms of sliced kaiser rolls, then generously sprinkle kosher salt and caraway seeds onto the rolls. Bake for about six minutes until seeds are set and rolls are slightly crispy.

Directions

  1. Trim eye of round of excess fat and cut crosswise into two equal-ish chunks. Place meat on a rack over a parchment-lined baking sheet.
  2. Combine salt, pepper and onion powder in a small bowl. Sprinkle dry brine mixture generously over the entire surface of both roasts. Gently pat the mixture so that it adheres well. Place the sheet, uncovered, into the fridge for up to 24 hours.
  3. Preheat oven to 275° F, with oven rack in lower third of the oven. Place Dutch oven or oven-safe skillet over medium heat with olive oil. When oil is glistening, Use tongs to sear every side of the eye of round until browned. Set aside.
  4. Add onion slices to the pot and toss to cook for about one minute. Add 1/4 cup water and scrape up any browned bits stuck to the pot. Place browned roast on top of onions and transfer to oven, roasting until meat is 130 to 135° F internal temp for medium rare doneness. Remove from pot and wrap tightly in heavy duty foil, resting at room temperature for at least 30 minutes (longer is better, chilling is best) before slicing.
  5. Add French onion soup mix to the softened onions left in the roasting pan. Dissolve cornstarch into beef broth and add the liquid to the pot, stirring and cooking until bubbly and slightly thickened.
  6. To assemble sandwiches, dip cut sides of kummelweck rolls into the beef jus and then swirl a handful of sliced beef at a time in the hot jus. Pile the meat onto the buns and serve immediately with horseradish sauce and a cup of jus.


Real Deal, Western New York Fish Fry

This meal reminds me of my hometown in rural upstate New York, and it’s one of the things I couldn’t wait to share with my husband, Les, when we did a drive-by on our solar eclipse-chasing trip to Canada last year. I served up many a fish fry myself during the mid-1980s when I waited tables in a now-closed restaurant called The Cottage, just before I packed up my vinyl albums, Aqua Net hairspray and my cat to move to North Carolina. But my strongest memories of fish fry all happened in a nondescript white house on a side street in my hometown— the American Legion.

Doesn’t look like much, right?

Nearly everyone in my town of 1,200 was a member of the Legion, either by direct military experience or auxiliary membership from a relative’s service. Families gathered there for anniversary dinners and retirement parties and to celebrate the lives of loved ones passed. Technically, it was considered a private club; we had to hit a little doorbell button by the back door that triggered a buzzer for the bartender, and then you’d wait for the click that signaled the lock had been released and you were welcome to enter. Why it had to be such a fuss, I don’t know.

The Legion smelled as old as its furnishings looked. Not musty, but with the lingering aroma of spilled draft beer, frying oil and, in those days, cigarette smoke. It was a popular gathering spot for folks after work and on weekends. And the place was always jumping from open to close on Fridays and Saturdays, when everyone’s order was the same. Fish fry, please!

The same is true for Davidson’s Restaurant in nearby Lakewood, New York— except that they serve fish fry every day—  and that’s where Les was introduced to this culinary experience on our eclipse vacation last year. I had talked it up so much, and I was hoping that it would be all that I remembered. Well, Davidson’s did not disappoint. The deep-fried exterior was perfectly crunchy, and the fish inside was tender, flaky and moist. Believe it or not, this was the lunch portion.


Not the same as “fish and chips”

I’d dare say that if Buffalo wings had not come along, it would have been this beer-battered fish that Western New York would have become famous for. It’s a far cry different from the cornmeal-crusted fried fish we see throughout North Carolina, and not even quite the same as the beer-battered cod you’d find in a typical Irish pub. Haddock is the seafood of choice, a North Atlantic whitefish that is tender and flaky, a bit more “fishy” than cod. The fillets are long and slender, and I chose to cut them into smaller pieces so they were more portion-appropriate, and also so that they would fit in the Dutch oven I would be using for frying.


To minimize the fishy smell (and taste), follow my lead and soak the fillets in milk for 20 minutes. The odorous compounds in the fish will cling to the milk proteins, leaving the fillets mild and sweet. This is the first time I’ve done this step, and it will be the new standard, as it also reduced the smell of fried fish in the house after this meal. Take note, though, that this step is not meant to “save” any fish that is past its freshness range; this is an optional step for less fish smell in general.

What about this beer batter?

I’ve lost count of how many conversations I’ve had with my Aunt Joy, my fellow fish fry aficionado, about our trials and errors on the beer batter. Did the batter need egg? How thick should it be? Should it be a certain kind of beer or could you use other liquids? We had a lot of questions! 

Aunt Joy gets most of the credit for the testing, for all the experiments she set up trying to achieve that familiar, crispy texture we both remember so well. She discovered that egg made the batter too heavy, putting a dense, cake-like coating on the delicate fish, and she narrowed down that beer was indeed the right thing. She even tried a recipe that I forgot I had given her, which called for a shot of vodka in the batter. I suppose this might have the same effect as vodka in a pastry dough, though I truly can’t remember whether I’ve tried it myself.


All this testing resulted in the batter I used this time, and it was perfect! Self-rising flour, which already includes baking powder and salt, is the base for it. A couple of tablespoons of corn starch in the mix ensures a light, crispy finish, and a few shakes of sweet paprika lend a nice color and a hint of bright flavor. After whisking this together, I spooned out enough to dredge the haddock fillets, then returned the flour to the batter bowl. Keep the beer (light lager or pilsner-style) on ice until you’re ready to fry.

Time to fry the fish!

May I recommend, if you choose to make this fish fry, consider not trying to also do deep-fried french fries. Stick with oven fries or some other side, so that you can focus on getting the fish right. You won’t be sorry, and you’ll only have to wait for the oil to reach temperature once.


Keep the beer ice cold until go time, and whisk the batter only long enough to achieve a smooth consistency. Dip the flour-dredged haddock into the batter, lifting to allow the excess to drip off before gently placing it into the hot oil. Let it bubble and fry for about six minutes (it goes quick!), or until the batter is a deep golden color with frilly, crispy edges all over. 


Use a spider utensil to lift the fillets onto a paper-lined cookie sheet, and season immediately with salt. For a true, Western New York experience, serve with French fries, creamy coleslaw and an ice cold beer.

Western New York Fish Fry

  • Servings: 4
  • Difficulty: Intermediate
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A Western New York fish fry is made with haddock and a very distinctive batter. It's crispy and light, golden brown and utterly addictive. This is the closest I've ever gotten to perfect with it, and just in time for Friday!


Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 pounds fresh haddock fillets
  • 1/2 cup milk (skim, 2% or whole will work)
  • 1 cup self-rising flour
  • 1 1/2 Tbsp cornstarch
  • Few shakes paprika
  • Pinch salt
  • 10 oz. ice cold beer (drink the rest!)
  • High temperature oil for frying (canola, grapeseed or peanut oil will work well)



Directions

  1. Prep fish by soaking in the milk for about 20 minutes to remove excess fish smell.
  2. Add oil to a deep fryer or Dutch oven, about three inches deep. Bring oil to 375° F. Preheat oven to 200° F for keeping first batches of fish warm.
  3. While the oil heats, combine flour, cornstarch, paprika and salt in a shallow bowl. Measure out 1/4 cup of the seasoned flour. Pat haddock fillets with paper towels and dredge them in the measured out flour. Place fillets on a parchment-lined plate. Return excess dredging flour back to the bowl.
  4. When oil reaches temperature, whisk the cold beer into the flour mixture, blending only until no lumps appear.
  5. Dip fish fillets into the batter, allowing excess to drip off into the bowl. Carefully lay battered fillets into the hot oil. Use a spider utensil to gently turn the fillets over when the underside becomes golden and crispy, about four minutes. Fry second side until deep golden in color. Use a spider utensil to transfer fillets to a paper towel-lined rack and immediately season them with salt. Keep in the warm oven while the next batch is frying.


Irish Coffee Cupcakes ☘️

Looking in the rearview mirror can be a good thing. It was only a few years ago that I had serious doubts about my abilities as a dessert baker; my strength has mainly been with savory recipes and sourdough breads. But I’ve been working hard to trust myself, and I’m enjoying the trend I see in my sweet treat baking— especially cupcakes! 

For St. Patrick’s Day, I had fun making a boozy cupcake with the flavors of Irish coffee. The treat is just for grown-ups, made with double dark cocoa, spiked with Jameson whiskey, and topped off with a swirly Bailey’s Irish Cream buttercream frosting. And did I mention that there’s also a Bailey’s-infused dark chocolate ganache tucked inside?

It’s like a little pot of chocolate gold!

I relied on a few successful previous cupcake experiences, such as the mint julep cupcakes that I’ve made twice now, for the template of adding alcohol to a batter, and also my s’mores cupcakes, for the ganache filling. And though things mostly went according to plan, there were a few bumpy spots in the road. Never a dull moment in the kitchen, and that’s one of the things I love!

Here’s what worked:

Mise en place!

First and foremost, I’ve learned the importance of getting my ducks in a row. Things go much more smoothly when I take the time to measure out and line up my ingredients. Here, you see that I’ve organized everything into the order I’ll need them. I took time to make fresh coffee for the batter, and I even measured out the Jameson and Bailey’s so that they were ready at the right time. I cannot describe how much this single practice has changed my baking game. If you struggle with getting things right in baking, maybe this will help you, too.

Being ready has changed everything for me!

The cupcake batter

As luck would have it, when I searched for a good chocolate cupcake recipe on my go-to, King Arthur Baking, one of the recipes that came up was  Irish Cream Cupcakes. This became my roadmap, at least for ingredient ratios, but I took issue with the instructions because Step 2 suggested combining all the ingredients into the mixing bowl at once! I’m no expert, but I am a creature of habit, so I followed the method that has served me well in the past. It started with my Irish butter and sugar, then the eggs, and finally the dry and liquid ingredients, alternated for even blending.


My jumbo cookie scoop is perfect for divvying out the batter into the cupcake liners. For some reason, my cupcakes always fill almost to the top, and this works fine, despite most recipes suggesting to fill them 2/3 full. The house smelled amazing as these baked for 22 minutes.


The icing on the cupcake

Never would I have imagined that buttercream frosting would be so easy to make, but this one really is. I began with Irish butter, whipped until soft and somewhat fluffy, and blended with powdered sugar. The Irish butter was more dense than typical butter, so I poured in a couple splashes of heavy cream and I was back in business. Another measure of Bailey’s put a perfectly boozy finish to my frosting, which I spooned into a piping bag, ready to go for icing my cupcakes.


And here’s where things got a little dicey:

Boozy ganache filling

While the cupcakes were in the oven, I made a ganache to pipe into the middle of my cakes later, but ran into all kinds of trouble. I’ve made ganache a few times and found it surprisingly simple, but I’d never tried spiking it with Irish whiskey. I’ll spare you the disappointing details of all that went wrong; I trust you’ll understand when you see this quick list of my Google searches. 😅

1. “What’s the ratio for thicker ganache?”

2. “How much whiskey can you add to ganache?”

3. “Can you whip thick ganache to make it lighter?”

4. “Alton Brown method for fixing broken ganache”

5. “What can you do with grainy ganache?”

In other words, it was a failure that kept on failing until I gave up. In the end, though, I found success by starting over (thank goodness I had more chocolate) and keeping it simple, and I spiked my make-good batch with Bailey’s rather than whiskey. Still a great flavor, and the consistency was perfect. After it cooled to room temp, I transferred it to a small zip-top bag for easy piping later.


Putting it all together

To hollow out the cooled cupcakes, I used my apple corer tool, but I suspect it would also be easy to cut a small circle or cone shape from the centers with a paring knife, to make room for piping in the ganache. It was tough to resist eating all those little cupcake plugs, but I knew I’d need them later to cover the ganache before icing the cupcakes. A piping bag with a star tip makes quick work of this, but there’s no reason at all that you couldn’t just use an offset spatula or even the back of a spoon to swirl some of this delicious buttercream onto the cupcakes.


Irish Coffee Cupcakes

  • Servings: 12 cupcakes
  • Difficulty: Average
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You'll want to dance a jig when you taste these cupcakes, rich with decadent dark chocolate and a boozy kick from Irish whiskey and Bailey's Irish Cream.


Ingredients

  • 8 Tbsp. salted Irish butter, softened (see notes)
  • 3/4 to 1 cup organic cane sugar (depending on your sweet tooth)
  • 2 large eggs, room temperature
  • 3/4 cup strongly brewed coffee, cooled
  • 2 Tbsp. Jameson Irish whiskey
  • 2 Tbsp. Bailey’s Irish Cream
  • 1 1/2 cups unbleached cake flour (see notes)
  • 1/2 cup Double Dark Dutch cocoa
  • 1/4 tsp. salt (increase to 1/2 if using unsalted butter)
  • 1/2 tsp. baking soda
  • 1/4 tsp. baking powder
  • 2 heaping tablespoons dark chocolate, finely chopped (optional, but why not?)

Notes: I used salted Irish butter and my cupcakes turned out terrific. If your butter is unsalted, double the salt called for in the recipe.

Unbleached cake flour is available on the King Arthur Baking website. It is a finer texture than all-purpose flour and yields a more delicate, refined crumb. If you cannot find it, all-purpose flour will work fine.

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350° F, and place oven rack in the center position. Line 12 muffin cups with paper cupcake liners.
  2. Combine flour, cocoa, chopped chocolate, baking powder, soda and salt in a medium bowl and set aside. In a separate measuring cup, combine cooled coffee, Irish whiskey and Bailey’s and set aside.
  3. Using a stand or handheld mixer, beat butter until it is light and fluffy (this is tougher with Irish butter, I discovered). Gradually add sugar while mixer is running and continue beating until all sugar is incorporated. Add eggs, one at a time, beating to thoroughly blend.
  4. Alternate mixing in the flour and coffee ingredients, blending well after each and finishing with the flour. This usually works by dividing the dry ingredients into thirds and the wet ingredients by half. After the last addition of dry ingredients, beat on medium speed for about one minute to help bloom the cocoa.
  5. Divide the batter among the cupcake liners. Mine were more than 3/4 full and they turned out great. Check for doneness (by toothpick test) at 20 minutes, and bake a minute or two longer if needed. Cool cupcakes completely in the pan.
  6. If using ganache, hollow out a small plug of each cupcake’s center, reserving the plugs. Snip a small corner from the ganache zip-top bag and pipe in enough ganache to reach the top of the hole. Gently press part of a plug over the ganache. I cut each cupcake plug to half thickness so that they didn’t protrude too much, and this was a great opportunity to sample the cupcakes!
  7. Pipe on buttercream, taking care not to overdo it. For this recipe, I had just barely enough buttercream to finish my dozen cupcakes.

Ingredients

  • 8 Tbsp. butter, softened
  • 2 1/2 to 3 cups powdered sugar (use your judgment for desired consistency)
  • A splash or two of heavy cream, if needed, for fluffy consistency
  • 3 Tbsp. Bailey’s Irish Cream liqueur

Directions

  1. Use whip attachment on stand mixer to whip butter until soft and fluffy.
  2. Add powdered sugar, one cup at a time, and continue to whip until it is fully incorporated. If frosting mixture is too dense, whip in a bit of cold heavy cream to adjust.
  3. With mixer running, stream in Bailey’s Irish Cream until blended. Add more powdered sugar as needed to adjust consistency again. Use frosting right away or if refrigerating, bring to room temperature before piping onto cupcakes.

Note: The ganache filling is an extra layer of decadence, and a fun surprise. If you are short on time or don’t want the extra indulgence, feel free to omit it and move right on to frosting the cupcakes.

Ingredients

  • 3/4 cup Ghirardelli dark chocolate melting wafers
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream, heated to the point of steaming but not boiling
  • 3 Tbsp. Bailey’s Irish Cream liqueur

Directions

  1. Place chocolate wafers into a small bowl with tapered sides, or a glass measuring cup. Gently pour hot cream over the chocolate, pressing wafers down to be fully submerged. Leave it alone for about 8 minutes.
  2. Use a spoon, silicone spatula or small whisk to stir the melted chocolate. Work slowly at first to limit splashing. Within about a minute, the ganache should be smooth and glossy. If any small bits of chocolate remain unmelted, place the bowl into a larger bowl of shallow hot water and then stir again.
  3. Stir in Bailey’s Irish Cream liqueur and allow the mixture to cool. While it is still pourable, transfer it to a small zip-top bag for easy piping into the cupcake holes.


Under a Blood Red Moon

A strange sound emanated from beneath my pillow just ahead of the witching hour on Friday morning. My mind pretended not to hear it, but the muffled insistence of an unfamiliar ringtone persisted until I forced my eyes open, vaguely aware of having set an alarm the night before so that I could witness the rare event of a blood moon— a phenomenon that seems as shrouded in mystery as I was in my comforter in that moment. I purposely chose a ringtone that was different from my usual, so that I would not be tempted to tap the snooze button.

What exactly is “the witching hour?”

During COVID, I had frequent bouts of restlessness that woke me at 3 am, and a Google search about this pattern yielded a myriad of results, from possible liver overload (hey, we were all drinking more in those days) to fluctuating hormones (reasonable, given that Mother Nature tossed me into the menopause bin at the worst time in history), to the most startling and somewhat upsetting reason of all: the “witching hour.” Apparently, there’s a spiritual veil between the realms of life and death, and it is thinnest at 3 am. It felt redeeming that this time, I needed an alarm to rouse me into standing in my jammies in the backyard, staring at the sky.

Drama above, uncertainty below

Scientifically, a blood moon is easy to explain: it’s the alignment of a full moon and the sun, with Earth in the middle. It presents in the night sky with a reddish hue over the familiar craters on the lunar surface. From a mystical standpoint, however, it seems a bit more complex. It was a spectacular sight— more so than my amateur phone camera skills could ever capture.


By the magic of the algorithm, which latches onto one’s slightest hint of curiosity and subsequently serves up a smorgasbord of related information, my Instagram feed was flooded on Thursday night with posts and reels that emphasized, sometimes urgently, that this lunar eclipse was going to be a powerful one. Something to do with the eclipse being in Virgo, and that makes sense to me because I married a man born under that sign, and urgency is his middle name (well, except in the name of this eclipse because when I nudged him if he wanted to join me outside, he made a mostly unintelligible sound that I interpreted as “no”). What is less clear to me is what the eclipse means in terms of the spiritual growth that all the mystics said was straight ahead.

This particular celestial event is said to be a time for “letting go,” but of what? For some reason, a bible verse I once studied has been playing on repeat in my mind. I’m out of practice on such things, but the gist of it was about silver being refined in the fire. It is only under intense heat and pressure that impurities rise to the surface to be skimmed away. I feel this deep in my chest, as if something has been begging to be skimmed out of my current reality. 

On reflection, realignment and letting go

Perhaps some of you can relate to having too much on your mind as of late. I can easily conjure a list of things that I need to “let go,” as suggested by the Instagram mystics. In no particular order:

  • Worrying— about the future of Earth and all its inhabitants, but especially those who have been historically marginalized for no good reason. Using my voice for good is the right thing, but worrying does not help. 
  • Regrets and long-gone ambitions— they only hold me back from being the best version of me that I can be today. That was then, this is now and I am reminded that I am overdue to clean out my closet (figuratively, but also literally).
  • Trying to figure it all out. Every. Single. Freaking. Thing. I’m exhausted from trying to mentally solve the problems of our country and the world, and most of the time I feel guilty for not having more problems than some other people around me. I am privileged because of my race, which isn’t my fault. It also isn’t fair. 

At the break of day

I woke for the second time on Friday at 7:15 am, and I felt extra weary from the sleep I lost staring at the moon. Clarity doesn’t always come quickly, and I suppose that is the point.


Red Beans & Rice

The exuberance and joy of Mardi Gras season calls to me, especially since I learned in recent years that it is more than drunken revelry and people throwing beads at women flashing their boobs. Yes, that does happen when tourists descend on Bourbon Street, and of course that’s what we see in the media— which loves a circus, as evidenced by the news of late— but the true season of Mardi Gras is much more interesting (thank goodness). It’s filled with family-friendly cultural celebrations highlighted with parades, colorful costumes and decorations, and, naturally, amazing foods!

Rather than pretend I know all about Mardi Gras, I’ll point you to my blog buddy, Maylee, who shares the inside scoop on her blog, Beyond Gumbo. Over the weekend, Maylee posted a gorgeous “Best-Ever King Cake,” one of the most signature treats of the Mardi Gras season, with its festive green, yellow and purple sugar accents. Have fun exploring Maylee’s blog, with first-person detail on the parades and so many foods that are truly authentic to Cajun country— far “beyond gumbo,” as her blog suggests.

My own love affair with Louisiana foods also extends beyond gumbo (though I do love it!), and today I’m sharing my first-ever attempt at making red beans and rice, a layered-with-flavor Cajun staple that is as tasty and satisfying as it is humble and simple to make. The first time I tried this classic dish, it was from a package mix (I know, and I’m sorry) and it didn’t impress me much. I was only about 24 at the time, and my curiosity about it emerged after my conversation with the one-and-only Bette Midler. This deserves an explanation, but first, the dish!

Worth the trouble to make from scratch!

This meal comes together with pretty simple ingredients— red beans, of course, and I used small red beans, though dark red kidney beans seem popular; andouille sausage (I used a chicken variety to reduce the fat); the holy trinity of onions, celery and bell pepper; plenty of spice in the form of garlic, cayenne, smoked paprika, bay leaves and fresh thyme leaves; chicken stock and a touch of tomato paste (which might make it more Creole than Cajun, but it worked). 


The whole thing is stewed and simmered until the flavors meld, and then it’s served with cooked rice (mine was brown for nutrition and health reasons). Red beans and rice is hearty, incredibly aromatic, comforting and just spicy enough that I’ve been wondering why I waited so long to make it from scratch. This much I know— it won’t be the last time. 

If you get really close, you may be able to smell how delicious this is!

An unusual inspiration

Now, if you’re wondering what in the world Bette Midler had to do with anything, let’s rewind to my first full-time radio job, where I frequently had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing artists that I’d otherwise never cross paths with. The Divine Miss M was among them, and I could not have been more awestruck!

Most of my celeb interviews were not in-person, but by telephone, and right around the time that Midler’s hit, “From a Distance,” was charting on Top 40 and Adult Contemporary radio, riding the wave of popularity that followed “Wind Beneath My Wings,” her record label arranged interviews with influential radio personalities across the country. Don’t ask me how I got looped into that, because I was definitely a novice at that stage of my career, barely holding influence over myself on the best of days. I considered myself incredibly fortunate.

What I remember most about the 10-minute interview, which was unusually chaotic because there were multiple radio folks on the call, is not Midler’s answer to my own question when it was my turn to speak. I was nervous, and probably asked her something stupid, like “what was your inspiration for the song?” Had I done even the slightest bit of homework, I’d have known that it was a cover, not her own song, and that Nanci Griffith had recorded it first three years prior though that one didn’t make a dent on the American Billboard chart.

Nope, I was far too green to realize that celebrities— the best of whom usually prefer to be treated as regular people, rather than idols— are most excited to answer questions that relate to ordinary things. Thankfully, a more seasoned radio pro asked her the most meaningful question of the call— “Miss M, what is your favorite food?”

And, of course, it was red beans and rice. I’ll never forget it.


How to make red beans and rice

Never one to actually follow a recipe, I set out to learn the techniques that are important for red beans and rice, and there is no shortage of recipes online. My version is a mash-up of various suggestions I considered. As expected, it began with an overnight soak of the red beans. I had seen online that canned beans could be used, but when I have time to take the long route, I’m doing it. Good things happen in a long simmer, and it was no more effort to use dried beans. Be sure to drain and rinse them a couple of times before proceeding.


Getting the flavor party started

The flavor layering begins when you brown the andouille sausage in hot oil. I browned mine in bacon grease, rendered from a garlic- and onion-seasoned bacon I scored at Publix. This bacon was nothing short of fantastic, and though I don’t think it’s quite the thing for breakfast, it would be terrific on sandwiches and it was great in my red beans and rice. 


It’s getting aromatic in here!

Next came the trinity, which I had diced up small enough that each bite of my finished dish could have a little of each aromatic ingredient. Unfortunately, about that time, I realized that my chicken variety of andouille didn’t have any kind of casing, and I knew that it wouldn’t hold up under simmer for two hours while the beans cooked. So I hit the pause button long enough to fish out every last piece of andouille with a slotted spoon. I do not recommend this approach, but this was my own fault. 


Simmer down, now.

Time for the fresh garlic and dried seasonings. I wasn’t sure how much salt I’d need, given that the bacon and sausage had their own, and my chicken stock was not low sodium. So I played it conservative with salt, but still used black pepper and cayenne powder. I added the drained beans and six cups of liquid— four of chicken stock and two of water, plus a sprig of fresh thyme and couple of broken dried bay leaves— I rarely simmer anything without them. I panicked a bit at this point because the pot seemed so liquid-y, but there was no turning back at this point. I kept the lid off while the pot simmered, and I figured that would help reduce the liquid quite a bit.


The final stretch…

At this point, I also followed my new rule of thumb for cooking dried beans, which is to go ahead and add a skimpy spoon of baking soda to the pot. This alkalinizes the cooking liquid, in turn helping the beans to soften as they simmer. It does not change the flavor of the mixture with such a small amount. I wish I’d had my camera ready after the soda was stirred in, because there was a momentary fizzing that was quite dramatic, and then it settled down.


I gave the pot a stir only about twice over the next two hours, and after confirming that the beans were tender, I stirred in two tablespoons of tomato paste. You cannot jump the gun with tomato or anything else acidic when cooking dried beans, or they may never soften. I emptied the cooked andouille and bacon back into the pot, along with a bit fat pinch of smoked paprika, which I probably should have added at the beginning (still learning here). Another 45 minutes of simmering, and my red beans and rice was ready to serve! 

Red Beans & Rice

  • Servings: About 8
  • Difficulty: Average
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This dish definitely should not be reserved for Mardi Gras! It's immensely flavorful, comforting and richly satisfying.


Ingredients

  • 1 lb. dried red beans (I used small red beans, but kidney beans are ok, too)
  • 6 slices good uncured bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 12 oz. package andouille sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch thick slices (I used a low-fat chicken version, which had no casings; pork variety is more traditional)
  • 1 cup each yellow onion, celery and green bell pepper, chopped into 1/2-inch dice
  • 6 cloves garlic, smashed and minced
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp. ground cayenne
  • 1 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika
  • 4 cups chicken broth or stock
  • 2 cups water
  • 1 sprig fresh thyme
  • 2 dried bay leaves
  • 1/8 tsp. baking soda
  • 2 Tbsp. tomato paste (do not add until beans are cooked soft!)
  • A few shakes Louisiana hot sauce, if desired for heat
  • cooked rice for serving
  • chopped fresh parsley for serving

Notes: This recipe uses dried beans, which require a longer cooking time. If substituting canned beans, use 4 standard cans (drained) and reduce simmering time to one hour.

Directions

  1. Sort and rinse beans to rule out any duds. Add beans to a large pot and cover with several inches of water. Soak at least 12 hours, and then drain and rinse twice before proceeding with the recipe.
  2. Heat a heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Cook bacon pieces until crisp, then transfer bits by slotted spoon to a separate bowl. Add the andouille sausage pieces to the pot, browning in the bacon fat until crisp on edges. Transfer sausage to the same bowl with bacon and set aside.
  3. Add onions, celery and bell pepper to the pot. Stir and sauté until softened and slightly translucent. Add garlic and stir for one minute. Season with salt, pepper, cayenne and paprika.
  4. Add drained beans to the pot; cover with chicken broth and water. Bring pot to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Add thyme and bay leaves. Stir in baking soda to neutralize any acid in the pot (this is not necessary if using canned beans)
  5. Simmer, uncovered, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until beans are tender. Use a potato masher to smash some of the beans for richer, thicker texture. Alternatively, you can smash the beans against the sides of the pot with the back of a large spoon. Stir in tomato paste and a few shakes of hot sauce if you want more heat. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.
  6. Return cooked bacon and sausage to the pot and stir to combine. Continue to simmer for about 45 minutes to thicken beans.
  7. Remove bay leaves and thyme stems. Serve red beans with cooked rice.