The Saturday Brew
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Join Frankie’s Friday night Lockdown Live cocktail-making sessions.
Cocktail hour
The “quarantini” is the cocktail du jour around the world right now, inspiring novice home-based mixologists to share their store cupboard creations at #quarantini. Frankie Walker from Black Pineapple Co has concocted a delicious cocktail for our Saturday Brew with substitutes for whatever happens to be in your fridge, pantry and drinks cabinet right now. Get out your finest glass and show up to your next video drinks in style.
The Sour is a classic cocktail that is essentially spirit + citrus + sugar + an agent to make the cocktail fluffy.
Because of its versatility, it will work with lemon or lime, any kind of sugar syrup (replace sugar with honey, jam, marmalade), plus any spirit or liqueur as a base (e.g. gin, vodka, whisky, Amaretto). Use either a dash of egg white or water from an (unsalted) can of chickpeas — called aquafaba.
45ml Angostura 5-year-old rum
20ml freshly squeezed lemon juice
20ml brown sugar syrup (use equal parts sugar to water and stir on a gentle heat until dissolved) 15ml aquafaba (or egg white) Lemon zest to garnish
METHOD:
Shake all ingredients in a shaker or jam jar without ice (this will make it fluffy).
Add ice and shake vigorously. Strain into either a chilled martini glass or rocks glass with fresh ice.
Garnish with lemon zest, rubbed around the rim.
Ian Wedde
My mother and I were sitting on the back lawn in the fluttery shade of the rotary clothesline — its orderly pegging-out of the household’s frugal wash was transformed into a disorderly flutter of light and shade across her face, where a smile at once wistful and amused shaped the story she was telling me.
My father appeared in the kitchen window above us. He was preparing our lunch sandwiches there and made a show of waving one and popping it into his mouth. My mother waved back and blew him a kiss but didn’t interrupt her story. Her father Bert had lost one arm in a tipsy accident when she was a girl and she’d often helped him to launch his dinghy at Waikawa Bay. She’d always wanted to tell me what Bertie invariably said to her once the dinghy was afloat.
Then my father arrived with a tray of sandwiches and a pot of tea and the dinghy remained half afloat for a while as we ate and drank. When we’d finished, he cleared our plates and cups away and took them up to be washed. My mother resumed her story, which extended past the launching of the dinghy — I sensed there was something important waiting to be revealed as Bertie sculled across the bay.
Then my father appeared with another tray of sandwiches and another pot of tea. Oh dear, my mother said to me, he’s done it again. But she gave him a kiss. Thank you darling they’re delicious she said, and my father’s eyes glistened as he looked at her with an expression I often saw. The shadows of the fluttering wash on the clothesline were like the patterns of light and shade on the surface of the bay as her one-armed father Bertie sculled towards the point of the story she was telling me.
She reached across for my father’s hand when she got to the moment half-way across the bay when Bertie always shipped his oar and always said, “Love you, treasure,” and let the dinghy drift for a while on the flickering water.
Ian Wedde’s new novel,
(Victoria University Press, $35 or $18 for the ebook) will be published on Tuesday.