I honestly didn’t even know exactly what a moscow mule even was, but that didn’t stop me from making a variation of it last weekend. It all started when I saw an email in my inbox a couple weeks ago from Eat Boutique titled Blackberry Moscow Mule and I couldn’t wait to try it for myself. The photos of the cocktail were gorgeous and inspiring, and frankly, just about everything that comes from Eat Boutique is kind of amazing so I had to give it a try.
Now, thanks to Google, I know what a moscow mule is. In case you are as unfamiliar with it as I was, it’s a cocktail of vodka or gin, mint, and ginger beer. It’s traditionally served in a copper cup, but, if you’re like me and don’t happen to have any lying around, any glass will do. But this special variation has the wonderful addition of blackberries and lime which makes for a lively and refreshing drink in a beautiful, deep purple hue. Blackberry and lime go together perfectly, making this the perfect drink for the spring that has finally come to Boston, while the ginger beer makes it more interesting and complex. The vodka makes the drink a little more fun, but is added only in moderation so you can easily sip on a couple of these throughout the afternoon.
After a brief hiatus, I’m back to the recap of our trip to Europe that I promised. I just had a sneaking suspicion that you might be more interested in a recipe for the most amazing pumpkin pie ever just days before Thanksgiving. Now I’m back to Europe, so to speak.
After Brussels and Bruges, we headed to Amsterdam where we promptly set out to find rijsttafel. What’s rijsttafel, you ask? Translated, it’s rice table, but what it really means is a table full of small Indonesian samplings. Why we don’t have this in every city in the United States is beyond me. It’s the perfect way to get to try several different dishes ranging in color, level of spiciness, texture, and of course flavor. In short, you get to try a little bit of everything. We had 10 small dishes ranging from chicken satay to lamb curry, to tofu curry, plus a large bowl of rice to share between the two of us and we had no problem polishing it all off.
When we discovered several months ago that some friends of ours were moving to Belgium, we knew right away that there was no question that we would be visiting them as soon as possible. We allowed them just barely enough time to move in and unpack before showing up at their doorstep in a hungry, jet lagged stupor. Between the fries, chocolate, waffles, mussels, and beer that Belgium has to offer, I was pretty much ready to move in before we even arrived. The food lived up to my every expectation and I reveled in the frite and waffle stands dotting about every other square foot of the city, a beer selection that left me speechless, fresh, sweet mussels the size of strawberries, and chocolate shops so luxurious and decadent that I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
My biggest problem with Belgium was time because there is frankly not enough time in the world to eat all of the fries, waffles, chocolate, and Belgian beer that I wanted. Nonetheless, our few days in Brussels and Bruges were a wonderful introduction to the wonderful cuisine and we did our part to familiarize ourselves as much as possible with the gastronomic delights.
I first found out about limoncello from my sister who essentially described it as a liquid lemon drop that was alcoholic. I was pretty much sold on it right then and there based purely on that description. And then she brought me a bottle from Italy and it sat on a shelf for months. Literally months. You’d think I wasn’t interested, but the problem was really that I was terrified to open it because I didn’t want to finish it. I kept waiting for the perfect excuse to open it… and waited…and waited. When I finally opened it, I sipped slowly, enjoying every drop.
And then several months ago I came across a recipe for limoncello. What? I had no idea I could make it! I had to make some, and stat. My sister’s birthday was coming up and thought it would be the perfect gift for her (plus there would be plenty left for me!). Limoncello takes a a little over a month to make, so I had to get going. I got my bottles, my vodka, a recipe from the fabulous Eat Boutique, and got started.