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.
This smelled like a cocktail before they even hit the oven.
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.
My cookie scoop made quick, easy work of dividing the batter.
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.
Keep a spatula nearby for scraping down the bowl.
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.
I confess, the buttercream is my favorite part! 😋
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!
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
Preheat oven to 350° F, with oven rack in center position. Line 12-muffin tin with double cupcake papers.
Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl and whisk to combine. Set aside.
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.
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.
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.
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)
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
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.
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.
Pipe or spoon buttercream onto cupcakes, and garnish them with the candied orange slices and cocktail cherries.
It was only a matter of time before I would begin revisiting recipes that I’ve already shared here on Comfort du Jour. And it’s not because I’m out of ideas. Rather, it’s because I cannot leave well enough alone, and I am always fiddling with successful recipes— even my own. When I first gave you the scoop on this sweet corn ice cream with a blueberry whiskey ribbon (it was July 2020 if you missed it), I was stuck in a rut of making a custard base that required whipping egg yolks with sugar and then tempering them with hot milk and cooking until thick. Those days, however, are gone. More gone than National Ice Cream month (July) and more gone than the so-called dog days of summer (which ended last week).
My discovery of the sweetened condensed milk variety of ice cream has changed everything, and as most of the United States enters peak sweet corn harvest season, I can’t find any reason to postpone sharing my 2.0 experience with this delightful, unexpected flavor combination. That’s right, I’m not going to make you wait until next July (you’re welcome)!
Ice cream month is over, but this flavor is still worth celebrating!
Like my custard-based version, this ice cream gets its flavor from real corn, simmered in milk and then pulsed and strained to coax every bit of flavor from the plump kernels. But replacing the rich, eggy custard with a flip-top can of sweetened condensed milk is not only easier and quicker, it’s a better outcome, texture-wise. Why bother with custard when this turns out so good? The ice cream base gets layered (after freezing, of course) with a sweet and boozy fresh blueberry compote, and I am officially going on record to say this is my favorite summer flavor combination. Come along, let’s make some!
It’s easier than it looks!
What are the ingredients for sweet corn ice cream?
The ingredient list for this ice cream is almost too simple. My usual base formula is one can sweetened condensed milk, one cup whole milk and one cup heavy cream (keep it simple, sweetheart). But on the day I made this, I messed up. I had only a splash each of milk and heavy cream, so I made a quick pivot and subbed half and half for most of the dairy. The fat content ended up being about the same as my go-to, and guess what? This was not a dealbreaker. Sometimes you just have to go with what you’ve got. The rest of the ingredients are fresh sweet corn, cane sugar and the blueberry compote, which is also a short list: fresh berries, sugar, corn syrup and this blueberry-infused whiskey.
This is excellent for sipping, too!
My recommendation for readers outside of North Carolina, where this “Smashing Violet” whiskey is available in ABC stores, would be to seek out a distiller near you that might offer a similar whiskey with blueberry infusion. Or, if that is a no-go, choose a lower proof sweet-variety bourbon and supplement with pure blueberry juice. Or skip the booze altogether (if you must), and add pure blueberry juice and a squeeze of lemon for a bit of acidity.
Let me pause for a quick sec to call out what I didn’t add to this recipe. Did you notice? As much as I adore vanilla, and especially after I was recently gifted a gorgeous bottle of homemade vanilla extract from a sweet foodie friend (thank you, Dorothy!), I didn’t want anything competing with the flavor of the corn. Not even vanilla. So it is a rare but intentional omission for this batch of ice cream.
Do I need any special tools to make sweet corn ice cream?
There are a few things you’ll need for best results— first, an ice cream machine, which I highly recommend for anyone interested in making ice cream at home. Sure, there are a million “no churn” recipes on the internet, but to me, this is equal to trying to make toast without a toaster. It can be done, but why would you want to MacGyver it? The second item you’ll need is some kind of tool to process the corn after it simmers in the slightly sweetened milk. This might be an immersion blender, or perhaps a regular blender, but definitely one that you can “pulse” rather than just puree. Finally, have a stainless mesh strainer for separating the processed corn solids out of the milk mixture, and it should be large enough to hold about three cups of mixture. A smaller one will work if you’re willing to do it in batches. I don’t have that kind of patience. I just want to get to eating this ice cream!
The first scoop always tastes the best!
Tips for success
Use the sweetest, freshest corn you can find. Farmers’ market or homegrown is ideal; pre-husked and shrink-wrapped at the grocery store, not so much. I can’t say for sure how many ears you’ll need because corn varies in size. After cutting the kernels off the three large ears I used, I had roughly two and a half cups of corn, so let that be your guideline.
I especially like the yellow sweet corn for its beautiful color.
Also, don’t toss the cobs! Trim the ends and cut them into chunks that will fit in your pot. It can be difficult to cut through uncooked corn, so here’s another tip: Cut down about a half-inch into the cob, and then use your hands to snap the cob where you’ve scored it. No sense chopping off a finger.
Use a heavy-bottomed pot to prevent scorching while you simmer the corn in the half and half. Use a medium-low temperature at first, and then when you begin to see a few bubbles around the edges, turn it down to low. Do not let the mixture boil, as this will curdle the proteins and burn the sugars. This will simmer— or steep, really— for almost an hour. Cool it to room temp before blending.
Use an immersion blender right in the pot, or transfer in batches to a regular blender, and only pulse to chop up the tender kernels so that they release the flavor inside. Do not puree it, as this will leave you with a weird texture that will be impossible to strain. Don’t use a food processor unless you have plenty of time to clean up the mess it will make. You know what would be great here, and probably what my grandmother would have used? An old-school food mill. Oh, how I wish I had hers! 🥹
Process gently, don’t puree!
Don’t discard the solids after straining! Even though they’ve given up the ghost for this ice cream, they still have quite a bit of flavor themselves. Add half of them to a batch of corn muffins or pancakes (I love this recipe from King Arthur Baking, if you happen to also be a sourdough baker), and throw the rest into a chowder. Blend in the condensed milk and heavy cream to the corn-infused half and half and chill it at least several hours, preferably overnight.
Add the other base ingredients after the corn has infused into the half and half.
No fresh blueberries? No problem! I have made this ice cream several times with frozen blueberries— I’m especially fond of the “wild” ones— and it works absolutely fine.
For the most intense blueberry flavor in your compote, especially if you don’t have the blueberry whiskey, add some bottled blueberry juice to the fresh or frozen berries as they simmer with the sugar. Find it in the juice aisle, and verify the ingredient list to ensure that it is only blueberry juice. Don’t be misled by claims of “100%” juice, which might just mean that it has an apple or pear juice base with enough blueberry to color it. Also, the juice should not have added sugar (or if it does, reduce what you add to the compote).
On the subject of the compote, for goodness sake, don’t rush it. The berries need to be softened to the point of being mushy, and the liquid must evaporate so that the added sugar creates a syrup. Add a bit of light corn syrup to prevent the sugar from crystallizing when it cools. Cook this over medium-low heat until it is very bubbly all over. Add the whiskey and simmer again until it reaches the same stage. Then, turn it off and cool to room temp before transferring it to a bowl. Expect this to take at least 30 minutes from start to whiskey.
I made a double batch of the beautiful blueberry compote because I love it so much.
Be sure the ice cream bowl for your machine has been in the deep freeze for a minimum of 24 hours before churning. When it finishes in the churn cycle, consider adding a tablespoon or two of vodka during the final minute. This is not essential, but it improves the texture of the ice cream so that you can scoop it out straight from the freezer without waiting. If you choose to skip this, plan to remove the ice cream 10 to 15 minutes before serving time.
Would you like to guess how many times I tasted it, just to be sure? 🤭
Layering the ice cream with compote is as easy as it sounds, and I discourage any attempt to “swirl’ it during this stage, as you may end up with a muddy look when you scoop it. Trust the process. The swirl will happen like magic later when it’s ready to scoop and serve.
Finally— and this is so important— put this ice cream in the freezer and do your best to forget about it for a full day. You’ll be tempted to dig right in, especially if you have tasted things along the way as I always do. But homemade ice cream needs time to “ripen” in the deep freeze, and with the layer of sticky compote, scooping this one too soon would be nothing short of disaster. Go read a book, shampoo the carpets, binge-watch another bad HBO series. Do anything, but give this ice cream 24 hours to set up properly before you scoop and enjoy. You won’t be disappointed!
Best ice cream of the summer!
Sweet Corn Ice Cream with Blueberry Whiskey Ribbon
This is my custard-free version of one of my favorite summer ice creams, using sweetened condensed milk for the silkiest, creamiest texture you can imagine. Take your time with this one; I promise it's worth the trouble and the wait!
Ingredients
3 large ears ripe sweet corn, husked and cleaned
1 1/2 cups half n half
1/4 cup organic cane sugar
pinch of salt
14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 Tbsp. vodka (optional, added during final minute of churning for improved texture)
Note: Use a heavy-bottomed pot for simmering the corn and cobs, to prevent scorching. Take care not to boil the milk mixture, and wait until after the corn is processed and strained to add the sweetened condensed milk and cream. You will need an immersion blender, regular blender or food mill to process the corn-milk mixture and a stainless mesh strainer to filter out the solids.
Directions
Using a sharp knife, stand each ear of corn on end and cut off all the kernels. Cut the cobs into pieces that will fit in your cooking pot.
Combine corn, half and half, sugar and salt in the pot over medium heat. Watch it closely, and reduce the heat to very low once it begins to barely bubble around the sides of the pot. Steep without allowing it to boil for almost one hour, until the kernels are very soft. Remove from heat and set aside for a few minutes.
Use tongs to remove the spent corn cobs, allowing excess milk to drip into the pot. Pulse the mixture with an immersion blender to break up the softened kernels, but do not try to process smooth. There should be plenty of shredded bits of corn visible in the mixture.
Strain through a mesh strainer into a clean pitcher bowl. Gently stir in sweetened condensed milk and heavy cream. Cover and refrigerate several hours to thoroughly chill before freezing.
Make the blueberry compote while the ice cream base is chilling.
Ingredients
1 cup fresh (or frozen) blueberries
scant 1/2 cup organic cane sugar
2 Tbsp. water
1 Tbsp. corn syrup (to prevent crystallization)
3 Tbsp. Broad Branch Distillery Smashing Violet blueberry-infused whiskey (see notes for substitute)
Note: If you cannot find this whiskey (or a similar local product), substitute with two tablespoons of a low-proof bourbon, and swap in pure blueberry juice for the water used for simmering the berries. If you prefer a no-alcohol recipe, omit the whiskey entirely and swap in double amount of blueberry juice for water, plus a squeeze of fresh lemon. You may need to slightly increase the cooking time of the compote to get a proper reduction.
Directions
Combine berries, sugar and water in a heavy-bottomed pot over medium-low heat. Stir frequently to ensure that the mixture doesn’t scorch. After sugar dissolves, stir in the corn syrup to prevent crystallization of the sugar when the mixture cools later.
When the mixture is syrupy and reduced by about half, it should be bubbly all over even when stirred. Add the whiskey and allow it to boil again, but only for about 30 seconds. Remove from heat and cool to room temperature before transferring to a bowl to be chilled in the fridge.
Note: Be sure your ice cream maker’s freezer bowl has been frozen for at least 24 hours for best results.
Directions
1. Gently stir the ice cream base just before churning to reincorporate any ingredients that may have settled. Pour into the ice cream machine and freeze according to manufacturer’s instructions. During the final minute of churning, add optional vodka.
2. When ice cream base has finished freezing, spread one-third of it into an insulated ice cream container. Carefully spoon on a zigzag of the blueberry compote, about a quarter cup worth. Do not attempt to swirl it into the ice cream as this will lead to a muddy appearance (the swirls happen naturally during scooping).
3. Repeat with another layer of ice cream and another zigzag of compote, and then finish with the remaining ice cream. Smooth the top, cover it and place it in the freezer for 24 hours before enjoying.
After a mere 30 years living in the South, I finally learned how to make collard greens, one of the staple foods of the region. It happened quite serendipitously, as I described in my original recipe for “Just Collards.” Since that fateful day, and the quick walk-through given to me by a kind stranger, I have made collards many times, using the same basic recipe. My husband and I enjoy them with everything from fried chicken that I pick up at the deli counter, pulled pork that he makes on the smoker, and even occasionally just on the side with some homemade mac and cheese.
Collard greens, in case you don’t already know, are one of nature’s “superfoods,” and they can be eaten raw, but most often you’ll find them braised in liquid. Collards are so packed with nutrients (including vitamin C, calcium, immune-supportive B vitamins and magnesium), that even the resulting cooking juices are considered to be sustaining. They are a very hardy crop, easy to grow in nearly every climate, and they are widely revered here in the South.
Until now, I have followed the same basic recipe—cook up some chopped bacon with onions, add chopped collards to the grease, splash in vinegar and broth and let them simmer until tender. Easy enough, and always delicious. I can’t quite explain what happened last week that inspired me to put a hot and spicy, bold and boozy twist on them—maybe a burst of Black History Month energy—but, mercy, was it ever good!
The salty bacon, smoky pepper heat and the bite of whiskey have transformed my usual collards into something extra flavorful!
I amped up these collards with fresh garlic and a few extra shakes of a specialty pepper mix we love, which includes smoky chipotle, fruity ancho and fiery habanero. The combination of hot pepper flavors sent these collards over the top into kick-ass territory. The real kicker, though, was the shot of whiskey I splashed into them. And not just any whiskey, but the only brand I happened to have on hand when my imagination started running—Uncle Nearest 1856. If you have not yet heard of this whiskey, I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read about it. Uncle Nearest is a Black-owned brand, built on the legacy of Nathan “Nearest” Green, an enslaved man who taught Jack Daniel how to make whiskey. If you’re thinking, “how can that be?” well, this is why we have Black History Month, so we can fill in the gaps of what we thought we knew.
Braising in the whiskey turned out to be a great decision.
Uncle Nearest 1856 was the basis for the Long Time Coming red cocktail I created in honor of Juneteenth last year, and at 100 proof, it’s pretty sturdy. The charred oak barrel notes of the spirit imparted additional smokiness to these collards, which cooked up in about half the time as my regular, go-to recipe. That might have been the whiskey, or it could just be that I served them up earlier than usual, because they smelled so darn good.
1 large bunch fresh collard leaves, washed and trimmed of heavy stems
1 shot glass whiskey (about 3 tablespoons)
1 cup low-sodium vegetable broth
Instructions
Start with three slices of bacon, cut into pieces. Cook them for a few minutes until the fat starts to render and the bacon edges are crispy.
Lately, I’ve been skipping the pre-bagged collards and buying them in fresh bunches, like this. The prep is easy, and it’s more bang for my buck.
A quick rinse in the sink, then I wrap the collard leaves in a clean kitchen towel to wick away excess water.
Hold the stem end of each collard leaf and use your other hand to strip the leaf off the heavy stem. This is so much faster than picking them off the pre-bagged pieces! Stack the leaves into a pile.
To save time chopping, I roll the collard stack into a ginormous chiffonade. Cut into rolled slices, then cut the rolls in half. Done!
In keeping with the flavors of the South, I use Vidalia onions in most of my cooking. Any sweet or yellow onion will work great.
Add the onions to the bacon and give it a quick seasoning of salt and pepper.
When the onions are softened, add the garlic and cook another minute or two.
Put a dab of oil in the center of the skillet and shake in as much red pepper flake as your taste buds can stand. We love this “dark and smoky” blend!
You can already see a difference in color after tossing the onions and bacon in the hot pepper flakes.
Add collards in batches until wilted.
Add a full shot of whiskey to the center of the skillet. If you have browned bits from cooking the bacon and onions, this will de-glaze it perfectly.
After the collards have wilted, taste them and adjust seasoning to your preference.
Add up to a cup of vegetable broth. I like the low-sodium versions, as I can better manage the overall salt in the dish.
Give them time to reach a low boil, then reduce heat and simmer until they are as tender as you like, at least 25 minutes or up to 50.
In a large skillet or pot, cook the bacon and onion over medium heat until the bacon has crispy edges and the onion is softened. Add the garlic, season with a bit of salt and pepper, and cook another minute or two.
Clear a space in the center of the pan and add about a teaspoon of olive oil. Shake the red pepper flakes into the oil to activate the flavors, and then toss the bacon-onion mixture to spread it around. Add the collards, a handful at a time until wilted, and toss to cook. When the collards have softened and collapsed into the pan, add the whiskey and vegetable broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until collards are tender. This will take anywhere from 25-50 minutes, depending on your simmer level and preference. Adjust salt and pepper to taste before serving.
On Juneteenth, my mind is littered with so many emotions I find it difficult to put my thoughts down. I am thrilled for the modern Black community, for whom Juneteenth has always been woven into the fabric of life. I am embarrassed to realize that the meaning of this occasion escaped me until last year, when the U.S. entered a long-overdue season of racial reckoning after the horrifying death of George Floyd. Most of all, I am disappointed and angry that the significance of Juneteenth was not spelled out in the history books of my small, lily-white upstate N.Y. town. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
Along with so many others in my age group, I grew up learning about the greatness of the men whose tremendous business skills built this great nation, including the forefathers and later the business and industrial magnates—Andrew Carnegie and J.P. Morgan and John D. Rockefeller and Cornelius Vanderbilt—you know, all the rich, white guys. But we did not hear the whole story, and that means we never got the real story. There is so much more to be said and taught about our nation’s history, but a great deal of resistance to teaching it, and I’m flat-out puzzled and pissed off about that.
Truth.
Juneteenth, in case you have completely avoided all news outlets recently, marks a celebration for the last of the slaves being freed following President Abraham Lincoln’s famous Emancipation Proclamation. The news that slavery had become illegal spread throughout the land, but not exactly like wildfire. It was not until 2½ years later, when federal soldiers rode into Galveston, Texas, to read the edict out loud, that the enslaved African-Americans there even realized they were free. I suspect the delay of this information had a lot to do with the fact that the slaveholders had more to gain by keeping the joyous news on the down low.
Fast forward 156 years, and Juneteenth has at last become a federal holiday, under the pen of President Joe Biden, and it’s been a long time coming. We still have a lot of work to do to recognize full equality and taking the first step feels a little intimidating. Rather than assume what kind of celebration is respectful, I have done some research into the significant themes around Juneteenth, and I am responding with this bright red cocktail, created in honor of those for whom respect has been a long time coming.
It’s lively, refreshing and suited to this occasion.
Red drinks have always played a major role in celebration of Juneteenth, as the color symbolizes both the bloodshed of Black peoples’ ancestors and the courage and resilience that brings them to this point in history. Hibiscus, a deeply-hued flower, is a significant ingredient in red drinks for Juneteenth, as it was one of many favored foods that enslaved Africans brought with them to this land. Hibiscus has a delightfully tart flavor and somewhat astringent effect—not particularly sweet on its own, almost like cranberry, but with hints of floral. I first tasted hibiscus as a tea, and that is a very traditional way to enjoy it on Juneteenth, but I wanted to mix it into a cocktail for one specific reason: this whiskey.
You can visit the Uncle Nearest distillery along the Tennessee Whiskey Trail.
As part of my own “first steps” toward racial equity, I have made a personal commitment to seek out and support Black-owned businesses, and Uncle Nearest is one, founded a few years ago by a Black woman named Fawn Weaver. The story behind this new whiskey brand is rich and complex, just like the spirit in the bottle. There is so much to know about it—more than I can say here in this post—but the kicker of this true story is that Nathan “Nearest” Green, an enslaved man in Lynchburg, Tenn., taught Jack Daniel how to make whiskey. Yes, that Jack Daniel. This startling real story began to circulate a few years ago, and I think you’ll find the story linked here a fascinating read. I was elated this week to find that Uncle Nearest whiskey is already available in our local liquor store.
I’ve paired the Uncle Nearest 1856 premium whiskey with a couple of other ingredients that seemed right to me—hibiscus simple syrup, spicy ginger beer and a few drops of aromatic bitters, courtesy of Hella Cocktail Co., another Black-owned business. Finally, a subtle accent of vanilla, a flavor that seems so utterly common today, yet most of us would never have known it without the discovery and effort of an enslaved 12-year-old boy named Edmond Albius. I only learned about him last year when I went searching for the most popular flavors in America.
A cocktail will not fix the problems of racial inequity, but every little bit of awareness leads me into the light, and this is my small way of paying that forward. The drink is somewhat bittersweet—much like the story that inspires it—but refreshing and invigorating, nuanced with spice and freshness. It tastes exactly how I feel, now that I am finally beginning to understand the real story.
I’ve paired the Uncle Nearest whiskey with hibiscus syrup and ginger beer, plus aromatic bitters and a touch of fresh lime.
Ingredients
1.5 oz. Uncle Nearest 1856
0.5 oz. hibiscus-vanilla simple syrup* (see notes)
2 or 3 drops Hella aromatic bitters
Quick squeeze of fresh lime
About 2 oz. spicy ginger beer*
Lime wheel to garnish
*Notes
A simple syrup is made with water and sugar, and in our house, that means fair trade-certified sugar because I learned the real, true story about slave labor in the sugar industry several years ago. Profit-driven exploitation of human beings must stop, and as consumers, we have the power influence companies to do the right thing. Is it more expensive? The answer depends on who you ask.
Here’s how I made the hibiscus-vanilla simple syrup:
Turbinado sugar has a warm, rich, molasses-y flavor. The hibiscus tea adds tartness and deep red color, and the vanilla lends a familiar spice note.Dissolve 1/4 cup turbinado sugar in 1/2 cup water, then add three hibiscus tea bags to infuse the syrup with color and flavor. Steep several minutes, strain and chill.Add a bar spoon (about 3/4 teaspoon) real vanilla paste to the hibiscus syrup.Let the syrup cool, then transfer to a jar or bottle. It will keep in the fridge about 3 weeks.
If spicy is not your thing, any ginger beer or ginger ale will lend a nice little zip to this cocktail. I chose the Q brand “hibiscus ginger beer,” obviously for the hibiscus twist but also because it also includes spices that are celebrated in African-American cuisine. I stumbled onto this ginger beer by accident, and it turned out to be perfect in this drink.
Instructions
Combine Uncle Nearest 1856, simple syrup and bitters in a cocktail mixing glass. Add 1 cup of ice and stir until the outside of the glass becomes frosty. Strain over new ice in a double rocks glass. Squeeze in lime juice and top with ginger beer. Garnish with a lime wheel.
Finding and supporting Black-owned brands is a good start. 🙂
The hibiscus-vanilla syrup adds traditional Juneteenth color and flavors to the whiskey.
I am loving the brilliant red color of this cocktail!
The hibiscus ginger beer continues the “red drink” tradition, but a regular ginger beer would also be delicious.
You may be wondering if I’m a paid endorser for the brands and products I spotlight on Comfort du Jour, and the answer is “no.” I do not receive money or merchandise for my recommendations, and what that means for you is that you can count on me to give an honest opinion. If something changes, I will update my disclosures. Either way, you can still count on me to be honest in my recommendations, as I will only stand behind services and products I believe in. Fair enough? 😀
The Christmas season doesn’t feel real in our house until the refrigerator holds a bottle of this luxurious libation. My father has made this homemade version of Irish creme (his spelling) for years, and whenever I visited his house during the holidays, I knew I could count on him to have a beige Tupperware pitcher of it in the fridge. It is rich and decadent, far creamier than the shelf-stable stuff you can buy at the liquor store. When I first asked for his recipe, I was surprised to realize that it has both coffee and chocolate in it—I never tasted either of them in the Irish cream, but when I’ve reduced or omitted either, I found that it just wasn’t the same.
For sure, double the recipe, even if there aren’t a lot of folks.
My father’s original recipe suggests using heavy cream and whole milk, but I have fiddled with the recipe and found that light cream and half & half makes it every bit as creamy, without the clumping that sometimes occurs with chilled heavy cream. Increase the Irish whiskey if you like (my dad does), but I think the ratios are perfect just as they are.
This homemade Irish cream is perfect for gift-giving, and it’s so darn easy to make that you’ll find yourself asking “Bailey who?”
Enjoy this straight, on ice or as a decadent flavor addition to your Christmas morning coffee or hot cocoa.
Homemade Irish Cream is a wonderful gift, too!
Ingredients
4 oz. (1/2 cup) light cream* (see notes)
2 tsp. espresso powder (or instant coffee)*
1 Tbsp. chocolate syrup (I use an all-natural brand with no high fructose corn syrup)
1 14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk
8 oz. (1 cup) half & half*
6 oz. (3/4 cup) Irish whiskey
The original recipe calls for heavy cream and whole milk, but I’ve substituted similarly rich products with no clumping.
*Notes
Light cream is 20% milkfat, compared to nearly 40% milkfat in heavy cream. For readers abroad, the term “half & half” may not make sense, given that the European market does not have a product labeled this way. According to this article I found, half & half checks in at 12% milkfat. If you combine equal parts light cream with whole milk, you’ll strike a similar balance to the fat in half & half.
If my suggested ingredients are not available where you are, go with my dad’s original suggestion for 4 oz. heavy cream and 8 oz. whole milk, and perhaps use a blender to mix the Irish cream to help avoid the clumps that occur with cold heavy cream.
Espresso powder is available in the baking aisle of many well-stocked supermarkets or online from King Arthur Baking Company. You may substitute a high-quality instant coffee, such as Starbucks Via brand. I’ve used Starbucks “dark French roast” instant coffee with very good results.
Instructions
The espresso powder should be dissolved completely in the light cream, then cooled before adding other ingredients.
Whisk to combine the half & half with the thick sweetened condensed milk.
Whisk in the light cream-espresso-chocolate mixture.
Finally, stir in your favorite Irish whiskey. Start with recipe amount, and adjust as desired.
I have already made a second batch because homemade Irish cream is a great gift for the holidays.
Place a small, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-low heat. Warm the light cream, espresso powder and chocolate syrup until the mixture steams and the espresso powder is completely dissolved. Remove from heat and cool completely.
Use a whisk to blend the coffee-infused cream, condensed milk and half & half.
Stir in Irish whiskey. Give it a taste and adjust any ingredient as desired.
Divide Irish cream into sealable bottles and refrigerate.
Recipe makes about 4 cups.
Enjoy within three weeks. At our house, it is usually gone within three hours. 😉
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