Old Fashioned Cupcakes

When I say these are old-fashioned cupcakes, I don’t mean old-fashioned like Grandma used to make. Unless Grandma was a whiskey-shooting wild child who liked taking her crazy ideas to the stand mixer so she could have her cake and drink it, too. In which case, yeah, they’re that kind of old fashioned. It’s the kind of grandma I’d want to be.

You might want to order another round.

You can bet your booty there’s bourbon in here— or, in this case, Gentleman Jack whiskey (I’ll explain this choice in a moment). And the frosting? Also boozy, with a generous splash of blood orange bitters and a shot of caramel flavor. Garnished with a candied orange wedge and a cocktail cherry, of course.

For best results, add the cherries just before serving.

I started thinking about these when I baked this year’s batch of mint julep cupcakes for Kentucky Derby, and I will admit that the result of these old fashioned cupcakes exceeds even what my taste buds imagined. They really do taste like the cocktail! The best thing about them is that, despite the complex flavor arrangement, they are surprisingly easy to make. 

What goes into an Old Fashioned cupcake?

For these grownup-only treats, I followed the formula template of my mint julep cupcakes, but with different flavor enhancers. Butter, brown and white sugars, eggs. And then the old fashioned flavors, in the form of orange zest, cocktail cherry syrup and (obviously) the whiskey. Alternate the addition of dry and wet ingredients, a bit at a time, to ensure even mixing; too much of either at once and you’ll end up overmixing the batter.


As an aside, do you see what my KitchenAid did with the zest? I guess it’s best to stir that in by hand at the end! Divide the batter evenly among the cupcake liners and bake, then cool for a bit before transferring them to a wire rack.


Why whiskey rather than bourbon?

We’ve enjoyed many a cocktail with Gentleman Jack, and I got curious what kept it from being labeled as bourbon. It is, after all, 80% corn and aged in oak barrels, and obviously produced in the U.S., so it certainly qualifies to be called “bourbon,” but the folks at Jack Daniel’s like to point out that their whiskey is charcoal-mellowed, and they consider it to be superior in every way to bourbon.

I don’t necessarily agree, but Gentleman Jack is very easy on the palate, and lower proof (80) than most of the bourbons we usually drink, which makes it lovely with the sweetness of dessert. Boozy, but no harsh bite. Now, let’s talk about the caramel notes in this buttercream!

The icing on the (cup)cake

Buttercream is not as difficult as I once feared—at least, not the kind I make. The butter should be softened at room temperature for about half an hour, so that you can press a fork or finger into it and leave an indent without the butter losing its shape. I use salted butter to accent all the other flavors.

For an “old fashioned” vibe, I spiked the butter with dulce de leche to accentuate the warm caramel flavors of the whiskey. Whip those together with an electric mixer until it is soft and fluffy before adding the sugar. If you go too far with powdered sugar, you can smooth it out again with a few drops of cold heavy cream. You want it swirly, but stable.


The finishing touch for my old fashioned cupcakes was a drizzle of Gentleman Jack and a spoonful of Stirring’s blood orange bitters. These are sold in a larger bottle than typical bitters, and they’re non-alcoholic, which makes them less intense. This is what really gives a “cocktail” flavor to the cupcakes, perhaps even more so than the star ingredient of whiskey. If you can only get regular, alcohol-based bitters, use half as much.


Decorating the cooled cupcakes is easy as well, and if you don’t have a piping bag with a star tip, don’t sweat it. Load up a zip-top bag and snip the corner. Or go old school and swirl a massive amount on with the back of a spoon. Just keep a stack of extra spoons on standby because, no matter how restrained you think you are, you’ll be licking them. Add the candied oranges and cherries when you’re ready to serve. Cheers!

Old Fashioned Cupcakes

  • Servings: One dozen
  • Difficulty: Average
  • Print

Whiskey, orange zest and cocktail cherries give these easy cupcakes a distinctive, 'old fashioned' flair, complete with orange bitters-accented buttercream and a cherry on top!


Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 tsp. baking powder
  • 2 pinches kosher salt
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup brown sugar
  • 2 eggs, room temperature
  • 1/4 cup Gentleman Jack Tennessee whiskey (or lower proof smooth bourbon)
  • 1 tsp. real vanilla extract
  • 1 Tbsp. Luxardo cocktail cherry syrup (see notes)
  • 1/4 cup whole milk, room temperature
  • 1 Tbsp. finely grated orange zest
  • 1 recipe orange bitters buttercream (below)
  • 4 candied orange slices, quartered (I found these at Trader Joe’s)
  • 12 cocktail cherries, blotted on paper towel

Notes: The cocktail cherry syrup I used is very thick, like pancake syrup. If using thin syrup, reduce amount of whiskey or milk.

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350° F, with oven rack in center position. Line 12-muffin tin with double cupcake papers.
  2. Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl and whisk to combine. Set aside.
  3. In a stand mixer, or a bowl with hand mixer, cream butter until softened. Add brown and white sugars gradually, beating continually. Stop to scrape down bowl twice. Add eggs, beating after each. Stream in whiskey and cocktail cherry syrup. Scrape down bowl.
  4. Add 1/3 of the flour mixture and beat on low just until incorporated. Beat in half of the milk, then repeat with half of remaining flour, more milk, last of flour. Stop mixer and scrape down bowl, folding in the orange zest at the end.
  5. Divide batter into lined muffin cups. They will be roughly 3/4 full. Bake 18 to 22 minutes; cupcakes are finished when they pass the toothpick test.
  6. Cool in pan for about 15 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) salted butter, softened at room temperature
  • 2 Tbsp. dulce de leche
  • About 4 cups confectioner’s sugar (depending on desired consistency)
  • 3 tbsp. Gentleman Jack
  • 2 tsp. Stirrings blood orange bitters (or 1 tsp. regular orange bitters)
  • Heavy cream, if needed to thin icing to desired consistency

Look for dulce de leche in the canned milk aisle, or use a sticky caramel topping as a substitute. You could also omit this if you don’t mind giving up the caramel accent.

Directions

  1. Using the whip attachment of a stand mixer, or whip beaters of a handheld mixer, cream the butter and dulce de leche until soft and fluffy.
  2. Add half of the confectioner’s sugar and beat until incorporated, then stream in whiskey and orange bitters. Add remaining sugar a few spoonfuls at a time until you achieve desired consistency. If you overdo it, whip in a tablespoon or more heavy cream.
  3. Pipe or spoon buttercream onto cupcakes, and garnish them with the candied orange slices and cocktail cherries.


Fuzzy Navel Sorbet

It was July, 1986. My wardrobe included stirrup pants, big blouses and my favorite pin-striped, high-waisted skinny jeans. The ones with the pleats. My hair was permed and teased out to here, and all the girls were lusting after Tom Cruise in Top Gun. I was restless in my not-so-exciting hometown, and I spent entirely too many weekend nights on the dance floor at a bar called the Rusty Nail, drinking the most sticky-sweet drink that was all the rage that year.

When we were not enjoying our Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers, the “fuzzy navel,” made with orange juice and DeKuyper Peachtree schnapps, was the “cocktail” of choice for me and so many of my friends, whether we were out on the town (which meant we were in the next town over), hanging at home (because our town didn’t have much going on) or gathering for a bridal shower (because getting hitched is what several of my friends were doing that year). Man, we were so cool.

Why did we ever think it was cool to smoke??
But I wish I still had that striped top!

It was an odd time for me, as I turned 21 and I would finally be cleared to order a drink in public. Again. There was a great deal of confusion for my friends and me, as the state of New York had raised the legal drinking age not once, but twice, in a short period of time. First, they raised it from 18 to 19, after I had been legally imbibing for about eight months. Then, when I was 20 and enjoying my fuzzy navels, they upped it to the national standard age of 21. In the next town over, this did not present as much of a problem, because I had a fake ID. Yes, it was bad, but shame on the state for having a no-photo ID that was made of plain old paper. I had used a safety pin to scratch off the bottom part of the 7 and a #2 pencil to reshape it into a 2, giving myself a Feb. 25 birthday! Seriously, it was ridiculous that the powers in Albany did not find a way to “grandfather” in the people who were already considered “of age.”

In my hometown though, everyone knew I was a July baby, so I had to rely on the bottles of DeKuyper Peachtree schnapps I had already purchased (when I was younger, yet “old enough”), and that was what carried me through the final stretch of waiting. Let’s just say that I bought a lot of orange juice during those weird alcohol retrograde months.

A few weeks ago, for nostalgia’s sake, I brought home a bottle of Peachtree schnapps when I spotted it in our local ABC store (that’s what we call our state-run liquor stores in North Carolina), and Lord have mercy, I wish I could have seen my own face when I took a sip! It has a fake fruit flavor and a slight medicinal edge, definitely not what I remembered as being “totally awesome.”

Yes, my taste has changed a great deal (thankfully), but I could not resist finding a fun way to pay homage to the drink of my youth, and this easy sorbet is the result of my effort. I am presenting it during National Ice Cream Month, as an alternative frozen treat for anyone who can’t eat ice cream, and as a nod to my younger self on her 21st birthday. The sorbet is surprisingly refreshing on its own, and I found that it also makes a fun brunch cocktail when topped with prosecco!

Please help me think of a good name for this fuzzy navel brunch cocktail. Mimosa and Bellini are already taken. 🙂

There is a hefty amount of peach schnapps in this sorbet, but fear not—the stuff is only 40-proof, so it isn’t going to wreck you. I pureed a handful of fresh summer peaches to add some freshness and actual peach flavor. The orange juice was a frozen concentrate (which is not as commonly available as in 1986), and I finished the mixture with a light simple syrup of sugar and water.


Ingredients

4 medium peaches, peeled and pitted

Juice of 1/2 fresh lemon

2 cups water, divided

1/2 cup cane sugar

2 Tbsp. light corn syrup* (see notes)

1/3 cup frozen orange juice concentrate

1/3 cup DeKuyper Peachtree schnapps

2 Tbsp. vodka, optional for extra kick


*Notes

Corn syrup is not crucial, but I used it to help keep the sugar from forming unpleasant crystals in the frozen sorbet.


Instructions

  1. Cut up the peaches into chunks and transfer them to a regular or bullet blender. Squeeze in the lemon juice and toss lightly to prevent discoloration of the peaches.
  2. Combine 1 cup of the water and all of the sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a low boil and stir until sugar is dissolved. Stir in corn syrup. Remove from heat and allow the syrup to cool.
  3. Add the orange juice concentrate to the bullet blender, along with the peaches and about 1/2 cup of the simple syrup. Pulse a few times, then blend continuously until the mixture is smooth and uniform.
  4. Strain the puree through a mesh strainer to remove any solids, including the stringy fibers that surround the peach pits.
  5. Combine the pureed mixture, the remaining simple syrup, remaining water and the Peachtree schnapps in a large bowl or pitcher. Stir to blend. Cover with plastic wrap and chill several hours or overnight.
  6. Freeze the fuzzy navel mixture in an ice cream machine for about 25 minutes, until it’s frozen and slushy. Transfer to an insulated container and freeze overnight.

This sorbet can be served as is, or spoon a couple of tablespoons into a flute glass and top with prosecco. It’s a fun little brunch drink, almost as if a mimosa and a Bellini had a baby.


And as for you, young lady—well, you have a lot to learn. But you are awesome just as you are, even with your eyes closed. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different. ❤



Tequila & Lime Pie

As we inch toward some new variety of normalcy in the aftermath of the COVID pandemic, my husband, Les, and I have been making an informal list of the top things that helped us get through the past year. Beyond the obvious things, such as face masks and avoiding crowds, we leaned into a few new routines as we fumbled through a year in lockdown.

Last week, I shared one of our favorite rituals—our Friday night menu of homemade pizza and smoked maple old-fashioned cocktails, our “quarantini” of choice. Today, I’m offering up a slice of this easy, no-cooking-involved spring dessert, in honor of the musical duo that has provided the soundtrack for our Friday nights at home for the past year.

My “tequila and lime” pie is obviously a riff on a margarita cocktail. It is bright and citrusy, sweet but tart, with refreshing lime juice plus two shots of tequila and a splash of orange liqueur. The crust, though similar in appearance to a graham cracker cheesecake base, is made from buttery crushed pretzels, a salty accent just like the one you’d expect on the rim of your margarita glass. I’ve made this pie for many years and always called it “margarita pie,” but it shall be known henceforth by its new name, “Tequila and Lime,” which also happens to be the title of a song by our Friday night friends.

The tequila and lime pie is especially good when served frozen!

Nearly every week during lockdown, we have cozied up in front of our big wall-mounted TV for “Quarantunes,” streamed on Facebook Live by Glenn Alexander, an awesome musician and all-around good guy, and his lovely and talented daughter, Oria, who graces us with her phenomenal voice and occasional playing of flute and turkey legs. Yes, I said turkey legs—you must press “play” and see it to understand.

Glenn Alexander and Oria, with Dr. Fauci! 🙂

Together, they are “Blue Americana,” and both Glenn and Oria (pronounced “oh-RYE-uh”) are equal parts gifted and goofy, and their weekly concert, staged from a table in their home kitchen, has helped us maintain humor and a sense of normalcy throughout the turbulence of the past year. We first met Glenn from his role as lead guitarist for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, a Jersey-based bluesy rock band that my husband has followed for about four decades. Not coincidentally, a Southside concert was the first date that Les and I had in 2015, though Les insists it wasn’t a date and maybe it wasn’t for him, but I still remember how he looked in black jeans that night, and how I wondered to myself, “why have I not noticed this before?” But I digress.

When COVID was still making early headlines, Les and I had gone to one of our last live music shows—a “Jukes” concert, just one night earlier than the Little River Band show I wrote about in my previous post, “Reminiscing.” Yep, for two consecutive nights, just ahead of the first COVID surge, we were nuzzled next to strangers in busy music venues. The reality of the virus obviously had not yet hit us. At the start of the Jukes concert, Southside Johnny strolled onto the stage with his shirt untucked and his usual sense of humor, telling the crowd not to get too close, because they had found the first “coronavirus person” in North Carolina, and he pointed to his left, directly at Glenn Alexander, who replied with his own swagger and wit, “I’m more of a Dos Equis person.” And then they rocked the house.

When we learned later that Glenn was streaming Facebook Live shows on Friday nights, it was a no-brainer—of course we would be watching, whenever we didn’t have plans. Which turned out, of course, to be the whole next year. Little did we know that these two—Glenn, with his virtuoso guitar skills and a side shot of tequila and lime, and Oria, with her sultry, soulful voice and adorable, unapologetic silliness, would become part of the family.

Check out Glenn and Oria on Facebook Live!

If you are on Facebook, please check them out this Friday night. Because if Glenn and Oria are in your living room at the same time they are in our living room—well, that’s almost as good as being together. 😊 You can also check out their shows after live-streaming, on Glenn’s YouTube Channel.


Glenn and Oria, we love and appreciate you!
Here’s a delicious slice of “vitamin T” for you and Dr. Fauci!

We feel fine, with our tequila and lime!

Ingredients

Crust:

1 stick (8 Tbsp.) salted butter, melted

1 1/4 cups finely crushed salted pretzels* (see notes)

2 Tbsp. coconut sugar (or regular sugar)

Filling:

14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk

1/3 cup freshly squeezed lime juice, from about two large limes* (see notes)

Zest of one lime*

2 oz. (1/4 cup) 1800 Silver tequila*

1 oz. (2 Tbsp.) Grand Marnier orange liqueur*

8 oz. heavy cream, whipped

A few drops of green food coloring (optional)

*Notes

The measurement of pretzels is after crushing, so you will probably need to crush about 2 cups of loose pretzels to get this amount. Crumbs should be small and uniform, but not as fine as powder. If you have any leftover crumbs, you can use them to garnish.

Use a microplane to remove the zest of one lime before you juice them, and it’s best to use organic citrus anytime you will be eating a portion of the peel. Here’s a tip for getting the most juice out of your fresh limes: microwave them on high for about 40 seconds. Cool until they are easy to handle, then roll under your hand on the counter before halving and squeezing them.

This time around, I used 1800 Coconut tequila, for a little extra tropical flavor. I have also used Cuervo gold tequila with excellent results, so use whatever brand is your favorite, but remember that with so many mixers in this pie, it is not necessary to use a top-shelf tequila. Save the really good stuff for Quarantunes!

I use Grand Marnier in my margaritas, so I have also used it in my tequila and lime pie. Use a splash of triple sec if you prefer or if it is what you have on hand.

Here we go!


Instructions

  1. Melt butter in a small saucepan. Use a fork to combine pretzel crumbs and coconut sugar into the butter. Press into a 9” freezer-safe pie plate, using the bottom of a small dish to compress the crumbs. Put this into the freezer for at least 20 minutes to firm up the crust while you make the filling.
  2. In a large bowl, whisk together condensed milk, lime juice, tequila and triple sec. Stir in green food coloring (if using) and lime zest.
  3. Use a spatula to gently fold in the whipped cream.
  4. Pour mixture (slowly) into the chilled crust and chill or freeze until serving time. For a chilled pie, give it at least two hours in the fridge; for a frozen slice, freeze at least four hours, preferably overnight.

To serve:

Place the pie plate in a shallow skillet filled with about an inch of warm (not hot) water, just a minute or two until the buttery crust is loosened enough to remove.

Top each slice with a dollop of additional whipped cream (spike it with Grand Marnier if you wish), a little lime zest and leftover pretzel crumbs.


Dirty Martini Deviled Eggs

Every Super Bowl party my husband, Les, and I have hosted together has been a little different in terms of food offerings, but you can count on two things—his incredible, thick and meaty chili (one day I promise I’ll squeeze the recipe out of him) and at least a couple of flavors of deviled eggs. This is one of those foods that everybody (except the vegans) goes a little nuts over, and I love making them because the deviled egg is what I call a “blank canvas” food. If you can dream up a flavor, a deviled egg can probably carry it.

When I shared my Egg-stravaganza post last spring, I made mention of my “Bloody Mary” deviled eggs, filled with all the signature savory flavors you’d find in the ubiquitous Sunday brunch cocktail. Today, I’m presenting a non-spicy counterpart in this Dirty Martini version of deviled eggs, which includes the tangy brininess of lemon-stuffed cocktail olives, pickled cocktail onions and a splash of dry white vermouth. This new riff on a classic hors d’oeuvres will undoubtedly make a repeat appearance on our table at some point in the future, and it’s a fun way to enjoy one of my favorite cocktail combinations, too.

Two flavors are better than one!

I made these tasty bites at the same time as my Buffalo Deviled Eggs with Bleu Cheese, and the ingredients and instructions below describe my process for splitting the two flavors. If you’d prefer to make only the dirty martini deviled eggs, no problem—simply double the ingredients as noted below.

Cheers!


Ingredients for base filling

9 large eggs, hard-boiled and peeled

1/4 cup + 1 Tbsp. light mayonnaise



Carefully turn out the egg yolks into a medium-sized bowl. Mash thoroughly with a fork until yolks resemble dry crumbs. Add mayonnaise and blend until smooth. Divide yolk mixture by transferring half to a second bowl (unless you intend to make all one flavor). Follow additional instructions below for making the two kinds of deviled eggs I made this particular day.


For the Dirty Martini flavor (double ingredients if making all nine eggs)

No vodka or gin in my dirty martini deviled eggs, but the vermouth and garnishes add all the right flavors.

1 Tbsp. dry vermouth (or use additional olive brine)

2 cocktail olives, finely chopped

1 cocktail onion, finely chopped

1 tsp. olive brine

4 cocktail onions, halved (for garnish)


Instructions for Dirty Martini eggs


  1. Add dry vermouth, chopped olives, onion and brine to yolk mixture. Blend smooth with a form or spoon.
  2. Place a small zip-top bag into a glass, and use a spatula to scoop the filling mixture into it. Seal up the bag, snip one corner to create a makeshift piping bag, and gently fill half of egg whites (See slides for Buffalo deviled eggs for a visual on this technique). Garnish with cocktail onion halves, skewered on a toothpick if you wish, to mimic the appearance of a martini.

For the Buffalo flavor

All the flavors of Buffalo wings, ready to take over my deviled eggs.

2 or 3 tsp. Frank’s original RedHot sauce (adjust to your heat preference)

2 cloves roasted garlic or 1/4 tsp. garlic powder

Freshly ground black pepper

1 Tbsp. celery, finely chopped (for filling) + small, thin sticks celery (for garnish)

1 1/2 Tbsp. finely crumbled bleu cheese

Frank’s RedHot dry seasoning, to sprinkle on at serving (or substitute paprika)


Instructions for Buffalo deviled eggs


  1. Add RedHot sauce, roasted garlic and black pepper to one bowl of the yolk mixture. Blend smooth with a fork or spoon. Fold in chopped celery bits.
  2. Place a small zip-top bag into a glass, and use a spatula to scoop the filling mixture into it. Seal up the bag, snip one corner to create a makeshift piping bag, and gently fill half of egg whites. Garnish top of Buffalo eggs with crumbled bleu cheese and mini celery sticks.

Want to make these deviled eggs?


If you like the fun idea of switching up flavors on your next batch of deviled eggs, have a look at my previous post for Egg-Stravaganza, and see how I made these fun varieties!

(L to R) Bloody Mary, jalapeno pimiento cheese, bacon, egg and cheese.