vanilla vodka

A Little Taste of the Crescent City

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New Orleans Praline cocktail
It’s been a busy week here at Money Creek: 2 cocktails and 3 bottles of wine busy! But it was while creating one of my Character Cocktails for an upcoming product launch (they’re not just for people, you know) that I was struck with inspiration for this week’s Alphatini cocktial, the letter N.

And a good thing I did because I was drawing a pretty big blank, facing the second half of our alphabetical series. But inspiration was found and now I can’t see how I would have missed it.

For this one we’re going to take a little field trip to my favorite city in the USA: New Orleans. Not the city of my birth (though only an hour away) I always get this thrill of excitement when I see those wrought-iron balconies, narrow streets and iconic signs. The go-cups and Marie Laveau’s don’t hurt either. And it’s been far too many years since I’ve made it back to play tourist visit.

New Orleans isn’t short on flavors to savor, either: there’s the seafood delicacies, the spicy sauces, Cajun this, Creole that, and then there’s the desserts. It’s one of these desserts that became our mission to recreate: the Praline.

Pecans surrounded by a creamy, melt-in-your mouth candy. And candy? Is time consuming to make (not to mention dangerous: molten sugar and a better chance that the humidity will prevent it from setting properly). This cocktail? Gets the job done with a lot less trouble.

New Orleans Praline

1 oz Vanilla Vodka
1/2 oz Frangelico
1/4 oz Butterschnapps
1 1/2 oz Cream Soda

Combine vodka and the liqueurs over ice and shake with a touch of the zydeco in your soul. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass while adding the cream soda.

There’s not a readily available pecan liqueur that I’m aware of, so we went with the smooth hazelnut liqueur instead. If you prefer, you could use amaretto but you might also need to add more vodka and soda to balance the stronger flavor of the almond liqueur. Either way you’ll end up with a rich, creamy, decadent cocktail that contains the essence of a praline without all the work.

Miss Mangotini, I Presume

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Mangotini
You know that old friend, the one you were so close to back in the day but then there was that falling out and while you might be civil to one another you certainly don’t go seeking out her company? We all have one whether you call her your ex-bestie or your flat-out-frenemy, those skeletons exist somewhere in your closet.

That’s me and this next drink.

Oh, we were a fabulous combo when I first encountered her on a work trip ‘lo those many years ago. I went to the ends of the earth (or at least the Internet) to find out just the right ingredients and ratio and proudly showed her off all over town while our friendship burned hot and bright.

But then New Year’s Eve happened.

Now, really, it wasn’t Miss Mangotini’s fault, per se. I mean, it’s not like she forced me to consume quite so much that night (but, man, is she tasty!). It’s not like she was the one that decided a refill-run before the stores closed in order to make another pitcher was necessary (no, that was the rest of the party). And it’s not like she kept refilling herself when I wasn’t paying attention (no, in truth, that was another “friend” being “helpful”).

But it was her that I had that, uh, falling-out with the next morning and started off that year as green as my shirt.

That said, after a while you start to wonder how that old friend has been and if there’s a chance you could be friends again. If you could let bygones be bygones. Maybe even introduce her to a new friend that might just be perfect for her?

Mangotini

3 oz Mango Nectar
1 oz Vanilla Vodka
1/2 oz Cointreau
1/8 oz Vermouth

Combine everything over ice and shake some sense into the mix. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Make two and make some friends.

This drink was possibly my first foray into mixology. I’m fairly sure it was one of the first ones I tried so many versions of just to find the right one. And, for future reference, if you see one that references Snapple* as an ingredient? Run. Run fast.

Back then I hadn’t even met the wonder that in vanilla vodka, much less the rest of the new members of the home bar club. (In fact, I was still using the dreaded Triple Sec back then!) So I thought this reunion would be a perfect time to play match-maker and see what happened. The original drink wasn’t bad–I wasn’t far off the mark however many years ago I made it. But with the vanilla vodka and Cointreau? Amazing. Fabulous. And so very smooth.

Now that M and I have made up (we’re on a first-initial basis again, as you can see), I’m happy to report she’ll be welcome at the bar any time she wants to show up. In moderation, of course.

*I have nothing against Snapple, it just makes for a very weak cocktail, far removed from the lusciousness of using juice or nectar.

When Life Hands You Lemons…

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You shake those babies up!

The Lemon Drop martini is one of those wonderful sweet and sour bevvies that is perfect for a hot summer day. Even though we’re slipping into fall, I don’t think anyone will argue that a lemony libation is out of season.

The best Lemon Drop we’ve had in a restaurant was at Bogey’s at the Hotel DeFuniak–a quaint little B&B (they still used actual keys when we were last there) with a room that is supposedly haunted. (If I’d only known that when I made our reservation I’d have requested that one, instead!) Todd won the drink order*, that night, and I wrote down the menu description for later experimentation. Others have been ordered since then at various places but none have lived up.

Until now, though, the best Lemon Drop we’ve had at home came–I’m almost ashamed to say–from a mix. Almost ashamed but not quite, as the mix was truly exceptional: the Lavendar Lemonade Martini mix from ModMix. Fully organic and incredibly tasty, we mixed them with Vanilla Vodka and a good time was had by all.

Now, though, I want to branch out and create our own home version, not from a mix, and using the wonderful things we’ve learned since first encountering the Bogey’s Lemon Drop.

Lusty Lemon Drop

Research first, I was dismayed at recipes that merely called for Lemon Vodka and a little bit of sugar. 1 ingredient does not a cocktail make, my friends. And to those who claimed any orange liqueur would do, I submit that a Lemon Drop made with Triple Sec would be vastly inferior to one made with Cointreau. (I feel like I need a say-no-to-Triple Sec graphic every time I have to make this point.)

Actually, I was surprised at how many recipes I previews called for the dreaded Triple Sec–it’s the cheap and easy sister everyone expected so much of but who never lives up to her potential. At some point, you have to face facts that she’s just not interested in change.

Oh, wait, that’s a different kind of tart.

A Lemon Drop is very simple in essence: vodka, lemon juice, sugar. But I had a very specific set of ingredients in mind for our Lemon Drop. I knew we’d use Vanilla Vodka (again, our favorite of late is from 360 Vodka) and, in addition to fresh lemon juice, some of our homemade Limoncello for added smoothness.

But what else? The Lavender Lemon Drop had that nice little something extra, what would put this one over the top?

Then it hit me. When I was trying out the Green Angel cocktail for this week’s AGWA de Bolivia review, the basil mixed so well with the Limoncello, I wanted to try it again. And with the idea to combine lemon zest with the rimming sugar borrowed from Inspired Taste, we were all set to try it out. All that was left was to fiddle with proportions!

Lusty Lemon Drop

3-5 Basil Leaves, depending on the size
1 oz Limoncello
2 oz Vanilla Vodka
1/2 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Simple Syrup
Sugar, Basil and Lemon zest for garnish

In the mixing glass of a Boston shaker, muddle the basil and Limoncello together just enough to break up the leaves a bit but not so much that they’re torn to smithereens.  Add ice, the vanilla vodka, lemon juice and simple syrup and shake like you just can’t wait. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass rimmed with lemon-sugar and enjoy.

Dipping a moistened basil leaf into the lemon sugar makes a great additional garnish.

Basil, in herbal lore, corresponds to love and passion, hence the name.

The homemade sour mix (equal parts lemon juice and simple syrup) tones down the somewhat cloying–but in the best possible sense of the word–nature of the Limoncello and Vanilla Vodka. And the basil? Oh, man, the basil adds a sweet scent and a touch of something to the flavor that, if you didn’t know it was basil you wouldn’t know what it was but you’d know you like it. I suppose this cocktail is a bit like art, in that respect. Either way you slice it, this is a passionate drink, one you’d want to drown in… except for the fact that if you were to depart this mortal coil you wouldn’t be able to make and enjoy another one!

*We have an unofficial contest every time we go out where we sample each other’s drinks and, sometimes, when one clearly surpasses the other, that person wins.

It’s Very Easy in the Keys

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Key Lime Pie MartiniA couple years ago, at my now-sister-in-law’s graduation dinner and engagement, I ordered a delightful cocktail: the Key Lime Pie. It was dessert in a glass.

And ever since then I’ve wanted to recreate it.

This is a prime opportunity, don’t you think?

Key Lime Pie martinis are quite common and I easily found 7 recipes within half a page of Google results. There was a unanimous agreement that vanilla vodka is the perfect base for this cocktail (and who am I to argue in the face of vanilla vodka?) but from there the ingredients diverged quite a bit. Some added pineapple juice to the line, some used juice while others used lime liqueur. One added a splash of Frangelico while others added Cointreau. And one? One included triple sec. If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you know I wouldn’t even bother with a recipe that included triple sec, these days.

But of the recipes I found that I did try, something was missing. They just weren’t pie-y enough. Frankly, it all came down to one ingredient common in the pie but not in these recipes. Most of them used heavy cream, some used half and half. And my past experience combining dairy and alcohol were not pretty, those these held up better than expected. Still, even with the addition of sugar syrup or other liqueurs, regular cream wasn’t cutting it.

Ultimate Key Lime Pie Martini

2 oz Vanilla Vodka
2 oz Sweetened Condensed Milk
1 1/2 oz Ke Ke Beach Key Lime Cream Liqueur
1/2 oz Lime Juice
Crushed Graham Crackers for rimming

Combine the vodka, condensed milk, key lime liqueur and juice over ice and shake to the rhythm of a steel drum band on speed. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass rimmed with crushed graham crackers. Drink and chill. Or chill and drink, your choice.

I ended up trying out 3 of the found recipes and 2 of my own. That was a lot of alcohol to be tested, folks. But hey, somebody’s got to do it! And we do enjoy our work here at Sips & Shots.

The sweetened condensed milk was, as I suspected it would be, the key to a smooth, scrumptious cocktail that echoed the original dessert so much better than the thinner cream. (And when did you ever think you’d be hearing someone call heavy cream too thin?!)

The only downside to this cocktail is the color. Because of the Ke Ke Beach it has a greenish tint. And a good key lime pie will never be green. Seriously, you should run from it if it’s green. But because the Ke Ke Beach does such a good job of getting the key lime flavor across, we’ll forgive it the green tinge just this once.

What dessert would you like to see in cocktail form?

Have Your Dessert (Cocktail) First!

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Not that I’d know anything about testing out a super-indulgent cocktail recipe before supper. And if I were to do such a thing, it’s only be to take advantage of the light.

Let’s get down to the business of the G-cocktail, shall we? Which just happened to be inspired by a certain special-occasion dessert.

The Groom's Cake Cocktail

The Groom's Cake Cacktail

For those unfamiliar, the groom’s cake is a particularly Southern wedding tradition that is, thankfully, spreading thanks to the global nature of wedding blogs and reality television. An alternative to the (frequently) dry, white wedding cake, the groom’s cake was usually chocolate but, really, these days can be any size, shape or flavor the groom decides (or the bride allows). Often the cake represents a hobby of the groom’s and is one of the few times the groom might have any input into the wedding!

As my mind wandered down this path, I also remembered a cake I did for a friend’s husband that was German Chocolate–the cake itself is only part of the equation; that gooey coconut frosting is another matter entirely! Dreams are made of that nutty, super-sweet stuff.

The Groom’s Cake

1 1/2 oz Vanilla Vodka
1 1/4 oz Godiva Liqueur
1 oz Sweetened Condensed Milk
3/4 oz Buttershots
1/4 oz Frangelico
Flaked coconut and cocoa powder for garnish

Combine vodka, Godiva, butter-schnapps, condensed milk and Frangelico over ice in a shaker and shake while you do a run through of the Electric Slide–just to keep in practice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass rimmed with cocoa and coconut.

Alternately, skip the rim adornment and mix a little of the coconut and cocoa with more of the condensed milk, maybe a splash of frangelico, too, and top something sturdy with the mixture and float it in the drink. I used a mini rice cake for the raft and it worked quite well (and made a nice treat at the end of the cocktail!).

Even though we just did a chocolate cocktail 4 letters ago, I’m firmly of the belief that you really can’t have too much chocolate in your cocktail repertoire (or, you know, life in general), so we’ll go with it. The idea was to create a velvety-smooth concoction reminiscent of the cake and icing combo (second only to red velvet cake* with cream cheese frosting, I’d a guess) that is clearly a desert cocktail.

How’d we do? You’ll just have to try it yourself and see, won’t you!

And, yes, I’ve made a version of the bleeding-armadillo Groom’s cake before. Not exactly like the one from Steel Magnolias but it did have grey icing (poured fondant, in this case) and its beady little eyes, according to the recipient, followed you around the room. Which is only a good thing considering the person that ordered it meant it as a somewhat twisted joke.