Category Archives: Drink

Ginger Scald – The Lies of Locke Lamora

“‘Conte, I do believe Master Fehrwight has just requested nothing less than a ginger scald.’

Conte moved adroitly to fill this request, first selecting a tall crystal wine flute, into which he poured two fingers of purest Camorri ginger oil, the color of scorched cinnamon. To this he added a sizable splash of milky pear brandy, followed by a transparent heavy liquor called ajento, which was actually a cooking wine flavored with radishes. When this cocktail was mixed, Conte wrapped a wet towel around the fingers of his left hand and reached for a covered brazier smoldering to the side of the liquor cabinet. He withdrew a slender metal rod, glowing orange-red at the tip, and plunged it into the cocktail; there was an audible hiss and a small puff of spicy steam. Once the rod was stanched, Conte stirred the drink briskly and precisely three times, then presented it to Locke on a thin silver tray.”

-The Lies of Locke Lamora, by Scott Lynch

Ginger Scald, vodka, ginger syrup, and pear brandy

Thoughts:

This, dear readers, took some doing. After several months of on and off trial and error, I ended up with two versions, neither of which was really satisfactory, to my standards. So there they languished, in the draft post. Until one evening, when I opened the post back up, scrapped both those recipes, and came up with the one you find here. I was especially driven to finish the post because, after tweeting about the difficulties of finding a hot poker, a package arrived in the mail from Andrew Cairns at  Willowdale Forge with two such accessories. Finding myself thus enabled, how could I not follow through?

The breakdown:

The thick sugary syrup sticks to one’s lips and tongue, the concentrated ginger burning pleasantly. I tried several versions of a ginger oil, but they were, at best, completely unappetizing. Hence, the ginger syrup swap, the texture of which, I think, closely mirrors how a ginger oil would behave on the palate. 

I hemmed and hawed over the pear brandy. It’s described in the book as being “milky”, but I’ve never seen such a creature. I did a few experiments to see if I could come up with a way to milkify my pear brandy, but the end results were not worth the effort, and moreover, detracted from the cocktail as a whole. 

The last ingredient was also somewhat troublesome. It seems to me that it cannot be both a liquor and a cooking wine. Given the cocktail nature of the beast, I opted for liquor. Mind you, I also tried a radish-infused white wine (BLECH!), but it left a great deal to be desired. Instead, I’ve decided to go for vodka: it’s clear, and made from roots (potatoes). If you like, you can infuse the vodka with some sliced radish, but trust me when I say to go sparingly. Pretty much, let the vodka look at a radish, and that will be enough (or possibly too much…).

The end result is a decadent, ethereal cocktail that will knock your socks off. If you’ve scalded it, the cocktail will still be warm from the poker, and that physical heat transitions into the burning flavor of the ginger. Adding to that theme is the slight tone of burned sugar, while the pear flavor is much complimented by the ginger, and the vodka gives it an extra boost of intoxication.

It was described by my tastetesters as “exquisite”, “otherworldly”, “exotic”, and “amazeballs”. All in all, it’s just complex enough to be special, without being impossible to make. 

Ginger Scald Recipe

Ingredients:

  • Ginger Syrup (see below)
  • Pear Brandy (if you’d like to make it)
  • vodka

Follow the written directions:

Into a champagne flute, pour about two fingers worth of ginger syrup. Follow this with a good splash of pear brandy, then a finger or so of vodka. 

Stir the mixture vigorously to get the sugar up from the bottom; you’ll be able to see it swirl around as you stir. The top photo settled while I was shooting: Do as I say, not as I do!  Once it’s mixed, you can sear it with the hot poker. See the note at the bottom on the crazy danger of hot pokers. 

That bottom layer is the ginger syrup, which, if planning to sear, needs to be incorporated with the rest of the drink in order to be close enough to the hot poker. Get to stirring!

Ginger Syrup Ingredients:

  • 2 cups roughly chopped fresh ginger
  • 2 cups sugar
  • 6 cups water

Combine ingredients in a saucepan, and place over medium heat. Allow to simmer for about an hour, at which point much of the liquid should have boiled off, and the remainder be a nice cinnamon sort of color. Let the mixture cool (nobody likes sugary burns!), then strain into a glass jar. It will keep for several weeks, and makes enough for around 10-12 cocktails.

Caution on handling Hot Metal 

*Note* If you are planning to singe the cocktail with a hot poker, I really can’t stress enough the importance of being careful. If you let the poker touch the side of the champagne flute, it could explode. If you yourself touch the hot poker, you will be scalded. Also, do not do as Conte did, and wrap a wet towel around the poker- the moisture will translate the heat straight into your hand. Instead, use a heavy-duty oven mitt. Lastly, be warned that the cocktail will sputter, hiss, and jump all around, so keep a steady hand when you first plunge the poker into the drink. And please remember, friends don’t let drunk friends play with hot pokers…

 Like this recipe? Check out the other recipes from the Gentlemen Bastards series!

Klava with Honey – Vlad Taltos series

“How do you brew klava?”

“You don’t know?”

She smiled. “I can serve it with the best, but I’ve never needed to learn how to brew it.”

“You press coffee through a filter made of eggshells and wood chips with vanilla bean, then reheat it so it almost boils, then you pass it through a cloth to remove any oils brought out by the reheating.”

-Issola, by Steven Brust

Thoughts:

Not being an every day coffee drinker, I tend to think Turkish coffee is already superior to the average cup of morning joe. But put through this process, it transcends the bounds of ordinary beverages, and becomes something near ethereal. Each of the different flavors is discernible, from the earthiness of the woodchips to the sweet subtlety of the vanilla bean. The cream thickens the already dense coffee into a silky, decadent drink.

Fun Fact? The eggshells help decrease the bitterness of the coffee. See? Right there, you and I both learned something culinary and fascinating from fictional food. That’s why it’s so cool!

Don’t be intimidated by the list of below ingredients and equipment. Once you get the hang of it, it’s quite straightforward. I’ve also included a version that is french-press friendly, because more people have those than have cezves. 

**Disclaimer: I’m not really a coffee drinker, but I thoroughly enjoyed Klava. However, if you are crazy for coffee, you may want to increase the strength of your own brew!**

Recipe for Klava

Prep time: about 10 minutes

Makes 1 (strong) mug-worth, or about 4 Turkish coffee cups-worth

Ingredients:

  • 1 cup water
  • 2 Tbs. Turkish coffee grounds
  • pinch of cinnamon and/or ground cardamom (optional)
  • 1 Tbs. honey
  • cream, to taste

You’ll need:

  • 1/4 cup clean eggshells
  • 1/4 cup woodchips (hickory, cherrywood, or other would suit)
  • 1 vanilla bean, chopped roughly and crushed
Helpful Items:
  • funnel
  • mesh straining bag/clean scrap of fabric
  • a cezve (pot for making Turkish coffee)
  • mason jar

Alright. So. In a small pot, or cezve, combine the water and coffee grounds. If also adding spices, do so at this point. Place over medium-high heat and watch carefully. Heat until it froths up, then remove from heat.

In a mesh bag, combine the eggshells, woodchips, and chopped vanilla bean. Suspend this bag in the mason jar, and pour the coffee over it. Allow to steep for five minutes. Remove the mesh bag, and pour the Klava through a funnel lined with cloth. 

Klava is best served in a mug, as opposed to a glass, so it doesn’t get cold. Turkish coffee cups are also ideal serving vessels, albeit on the small side.


French Press Recipe for Klava

Makes about 2 mugs, takes about 5 minutes.

Couldn’t be easier.

I doubled the above quantities for the coffee grounds and the water, then let all the ingredients steep together in the pot before pressing down the filter. It’s a great recipe cheat for those who don’t have the cezve for making proper Turkish coffee, but are looking for a quirkier style of caffeine. 

Lemonade with Mint – Chivalry

“‘Tea or lemonade?’

‘Whatever you’re having,’ Galaad said.

Mrs. Whitaker took a jug of her homemade lemonade from the fridge and sent Galaad outside to pick a sprig of mint. She selected two tall glasses. She washed the mint carefully and put a few leaves in each glass, then poured the lemonade.

–Chivalry, by Neil Gaiman

Thoughts:

Delicious! The tart zing of the lemons is countered by the sweetness of the confectioners sugar. The mint, meanwhile, lends the beverage a subtle, even more refreshing quality. Served over ice, it’s a wonderful version of a summer classic, and will leave you energized for whatever grand and noble quests you must face.

Recipe for Lemonade with Mint

Makes about 6 servings

Prep Time: 15 minutes

Ingredients:

  • 6 lemons
  • zest from one lemon
  • 6 cups still or sparkling water
  • 2 cups powdered sugar
  • a handful of mint leaves, crushed

Grate the peel of half the lemon and half the orange.

Juice the fruits. Add the water, sugar, zested peel, and crushed mint. Shake or stir vigorously for about a minute. Pour the mixture through cheesecloth or paper towel to catch the zest and mint. Refrigerate, and serve cold.