The plan was to invite a bunch of friends to our new property by the reservoir in Forestburgh on peak leaf weekend to gather around a big bonfire, eat chili, sip mulled wine and make s’mores. Wrong. Each morning during the week leading up to our party, G would tell me the weather forecast, and each day it would go up several degrees. By the time the actual day dawned, we were preparing for a scorcher, and the leaves had only just begun to display their showy colors. But what a glorious day it was! Perfectly clear and without a trace of humidity. I had been threatening to change the menu if the mercury rose above 70º, but in the end—despite it hitting 77º—we stuck with the chili and just swapped out the mulled wine for rosé and cocktails on the rocks. Later this week I’ll post the recipe for the thick, brick-red Texas-style chili, made with plenty of beef and no beans; and also for the caramel apples that were dessert, a great easy treat for this time of year. But for now, some photos to inspire you to get together with friends wherever/whenever/however (preferably outdoors while you still can), and a recipe for the perfect bourbon cocktail.

welcome to the drake

We call our property The Drake, after the old roadside hotel that occupied the land at the turn of the last century. Nothing’s left of it now, but there is this old (non-functioning) outhouse at the top of the lot. We nailed up these old metal letters we found at a local thrift shop. Our guests parked at the top of the hill and walked down past the apple tree to the party.

through the woods

At the bottom of the property is the Rio Reservoir; there are no homes on the other side as it’s state-owned land. The whole area is a protected sanctuary for the bald eagle, so we’re lucky to have lots of privacy.

bales and batiks

G built a beautiful fire ring with stones from the property, and got bales of hay from the local Agway. I covered these with vintage Indonesian batiks from my large collection of exotic textiles, and we spread various blankets, tapestries and cushions on the ground. Friends also brought excellent camp beds—canvas cots—and with all this we had enough comfortable seating for our crowd of 25 people.

the pie lady

You remember my friend Tomo—she of the wild mushroom pizza? Well, she did it again! This time she showed up with three pizzas, each one more delicious than the next.

vegetarian pizza

potato-bacon pizza

wild mushroom pizza

Talk about potluck. It was a great way to get the party started, especially since I had only brought a few pickled radishes for snacking.

real texas-style chili

My main focus was the chili, which was a rather involved, time-consuming dish, in no small part because I had to dice 12 pounds of chuck roast into quarter-inch cubes. (Next time, I may get my butcher to do that.) It was a pretty big hit, which I attribute not only to the quality of Dickson’s meat but to the 6 kinds of dried chiles, beer, coffee and Mexican chocolate that went into it.

Stephanie brought a delectable chicken soup, chock-full of corn and tomatoes and thickened with tortillas. It was a great light counterpoint to the chili. Sadly, I didn’t get a photo of it. Once the party gets started, I tend to forget to pick up the camera.

break bread with friends

Matthew made the cornbread which was incredibly fluffy and light with a hint of sweetness. He said the great texture was due to minimal mixing, and the toothy crust was from being baked in a skillet. I like to crumble mine up and ladle the chile over it.

hill of beans

and a celery-apple salad

I asked my friend Michael to bring a salad, and he brought two instead, both inspired by what was on offer at the local farmers market. Everything was so crisp and bright and flavorful. Sadly, this past weekend was the last market of the season around here.

basking in the late afternoon sunshine

It was kind of sweltering for a while, but there was canoeing over to the incredible waterfall on the other side of the reservoir, apple-picking from the enormous old tree on our land, mushroom foraging (unsuccessful) and lounging in the shade. Eventually, the sun went behind the trees and the air took on a cooling freshness. We lit the bonfire. Long wooden skewers were produced and marshmallows were toasted. S’mores were had. Sighs of contentment were heard.

and the leaves that are green turn to brown

It was the epitome of Indian summer, and a feeling of nostalgia floated through the air like the falling leaves. Much later, we were drawn to the mesmerizing electric-red embers as the moon rose and cast its silvery glow over everything.

cider house rules: the drake cocktail

The drink of the day, enjoyed by one and all—including the many wasps drawn to every sugary drizzle—was The Drake. It’s essentially a riff on The Eldred, the house cocktail enjoyed at our current home in the town for which it is named. We tend to favor Booker’s, but any bourbon you like is fine; there are many out there now that it has become so popular among The New Cocktailians.

you’ll see stars

The secret to this simple, three-ingredient cocktail (and, by definition, they do require at least three) is the cider syrup. Made with brown sugar, maple syrup and star anise, and reduced to a thick glaze, the syrup is also nice stirred into applesauce, spooned over ice cream or mixed into yogurt. I like to make a batch and keep it in my fridge for when inspiration strikes. So will you.

If you’re trying to eat more local foods, grapes may be something you don’t get often enough. All year long, I pass up those gargantuan globes flown in from Chile, so it’s quite exciting to see the gorgeous blue-black clusters of Concord grapes at the farmers markets. And to smell them! Their gorgeous perfume attracts the bees even in the middle of New York City. I’m lucky enough to have access to another local grape, grown by our friends at River Brook Farm along the Delaware River. Himrod is a native white grape, a choice seedless variety known for its sweet, floral quality that is quite similar to the related Concord. (This is sometimes called a “foxy” flavor because of its musky intensity.) I love its pale chartreuse color, a last lovely reminder of summer’s greener pastures. And I’ve found that it goes perfectly with gin…

concords have that dusty “bloom”

But so does Concord grape juice! And it’s so easy to make your own. (There’s also a fun article in the latest Saveur on making grape soda at home.) Concord grapes are packed with nutrition, including vitamin C, calcium and phosphorus.

the cluster effect

The dark skin of Concords is loaded with polyphenols, a phytonutrient (plant-based nutritional component). These act as an antioxidant, protecting your body from cell damage caused by toxins. They strengthen your immune response, heal damage that you may have sustained at the cellular level (especially if you smoke), and could even help protect you from developing some forms of cancer.

deep purple

Every year, I make a batch of this vivid sorbet, flavored with a hint of fennel that perfectly offsets the grape’s sweetness. The referenced post also contains a recipe for making your own grape juice, although you can even skip the cooking step and simply extract the juice cold. Another great use for fresh grape juice, whether purple or green, is in the aforementioned gin cocktail. Serve it with some salted peanuts and it propels the classic kiddie combo of peanut-butter-&-grape-jelly into a decidedly adult sphere.

The Rickey, a mixed drink featuring lime and not much sugar, was originally created in the 1880s with bourbon by Washington, D.C. bartender George A. Williamson, purportedly in collaboration with Democratic lobbyist Colonel Joe Rickey. Thus the name. Years later, mixed with gin, it became something of a worldwide sensation. Change that to rum, add a little mint and it’s basically a mojito. I first came to know it in the delis and little corner “spas” that dotted the East Village in the 1980s. (Remember those days? I was making $250 cash a week and living in a 3-bedroom-2-bath apartment on Avenue A that cost $1,550 a month. Total. And I had really big hair.) There, it was a huge glass stuffed with halved, squeezed-out limes, plenty of sugar and lots of ice, then topped off with seltzer. Not necessarily the soul of sophistication, but damned refreshing on a sweltering New York City afternoon. I’ve brought it to a slightly different place with the addition of a ginger-infused honey syrup (you can sub simple syrup, or even superfine sugar) and a splash of bitters, but it remains a thirst-quencher of the first order. Spike it with gin, and it’s the perfect summer cocktail.

get one of these manual squeezers; they really do the trick

There’s a refreshing Indian drink made with lime juice and powdered ginger that’s the South-Asian version of this. Here, the bitters add a subtle but important element of complexity. Not familiar with bitters? They’re key to making great cocktails, and have had a real resurgence along with the new cocktail culture. They are essentially alcoholic herbal essences, made from bark, roots and aromatic herbs. Considered good for the digestion, they can also be drunk straight or over ice after a meal. G gave me a lovely selection for Christmas, including lavender and molasses.

bitters are often aged in wooden barrels

make your lime peel twist by shaving off a long strip with a vegetable peeler

Summer is officially here! As the inimitable Bob Marley says, “Sun is shining. Weather is sweet. Make you wanna move your dancing feet.” In honor of its much-awaited arrival—and the long, hot days and balmy nights it brings with it—my next few posts will be dedicated to the kinds of cooling drinks you’ll be craving. Today, it’s the taste of summer in a glass. Icy cold strawberries pureed with basil and lemon juice into a refreshing slushie I call the Ruby Sipper. As with so many summer classics, you can simply add a little tequila, gin or rum for an R-rated version. I’ll teach you a couple of neat little tricks that you can apply to all sorts of fruity drinks. All you need is a blender and a song in your heart.

the ruby sipper is an ode to the strawberry, so irresistibly red and ripe

try not to waste this much berry when you remove the stems (oops)

The first thing you want are some gloriously ripe strawberries, hopefully coming to you from your local farmers market in a cardboard quart and not from a big box supermarket in one of those sealed plastic cartons. Fresh fruit needs to breathe! Choose strawberries that smell good—sweet and red and ready. A great trick is to buy lots and freeze them. First, pop out the stems. There is a special tool designed for this, called a strawberry huller, but all you really need is a small, sharp knife. Use it to trace a circle around the stem and scoop it out in one quick movement, almost like coring a tiny apple.

freeze berries in bulk and use them all year long

I like to process lots at a time, like an entire flat, but you can start with a couple of pints. Spread your berries out on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper and freeze them until hard. This makes it easy to pop them into ziploc bags and they won’t all stick together in a big, unwieldy block. Now you can take out handfuls to blend with yogurt and bananas for your morning smoothies, or to bake into a pie, or to make sauce for ice cream, or for your Ruby Sippers. Of course you can do this with any other fruit, like chunks of mango, slices of banana, pitted cherries, even cubes of watermelon. The frozen chunks of fruit totally transform cold and frozen drinks because you don’t have to use regular ice and thus the results are more potent, less watered-down. You can even use the fruit instead of ice cubes in iced tea or lemonade or anything really. Think jasmine iced tea with a few chunks for frozen mango, or lemonade with frozen raspberries…

lemons taste just like they look: bright and sunny

Another great thing to have on hand is lemon syrup. It’s like simple syrup, only you use lemon juice instead of water. So, equal parts sugar and lemon juice. Start with one cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice to one cup of organic cane sugar. (Superfine sugar dissolves more quickly but is not as good for you, plus you’ve got all the time in the world.) I prefer not to boil this, as it changes the flavor of the lemon. Make it in advance, because it takes the sugar an hour or two to dissolve completely, and the flavor and color stay bright and pristine. This will keep in a jar in your fridge.

a jigger is indispensable for mixing cocktails

Another bit of advice: get yourself a jigger. I like the 2oz/1oz version and find it indispensable for making cocktails. It lets you measure with consistency. Once you know how to make one drink to your liking, you can multiply the quantities with ease. This recipe can be repurposed with frozen pineapple and lime syrup; frozen blackberries; frozen watermelon; frozen peaches—get creative and go crazy!

a garnish of fresh basil hints at delights to come

The Ruby Sipper is a simple blend of frozen strawberries, lemon syrup, water or liquor, and fresh basil. Don’t like basil? Try mint. Or lemon balm. Or nothing. Because the bright red flavor of strawberries can stand on its own. Unlike you, after a few of these.

I love a little tipple before dinner, especially in the summer. It just feels a little indulgent, leisurely. The apéritif was actually a 19^th century invention for the purpose of delivering extremely bitter, malaria-fighting quinine. Herbs and spices were added to mask the disagreeable flavor and voilà! A French invention, of course. Although most agree that 18^th-century Italians were well versed in the aperitivo. Campari is a perfect example of such a slightly bitter and agreeably complex concoction. I use the word tipple because the apéritif is a light drink, a small amount of alcohol just to awaken the appetite. (For you tee-totallers out there, I am going to do a post on the non-alcoholic versions very soon.) I personally love Lillet, technically called a tonic wine because of the addition of a liqueur of Chinchona bark from Peru which contains quinine.

You can create your own version, by steeping citrus fruit in rosé with a few spices. Julia Moskin, in her fantastic online DIY cooking handbook for the New York Times, provides a great recipe, adapted from London chef Sally Clarke. The original version is made with Seville oranges, which I happened to have on hand from making marmalade. Julia adapts it with more readily available citrus. It has a powerful flavor that develops during a 6-week fermentation period. So, if you want to serve yours on July 4th, as I do, you’d better get cracking.

a lovely french rosé and a pile of seville oranges

Your citrus should be organic and clean, because anything on the peel will end up in the wine.

vanilla, cinnamon, cardamom and pink peppercorns

The original recipe calls only for vanilla and cinnamon, but I couldn’t resist adding my beloved cardamom and some pink peppercorns.

the color is a promise of lovely flavor to come

If you haven’t already, now may be the time to invest in some large glass wide-mouthed jars. I use them for everything, from making this wine, to fermenting sauerkraut to brewing sun tea. (Something like this.) Here’s to a perfect summer!

Salt is in the zeitgeist. Although the stuff has been around literally forever (read this book on its fascinating history), it’s being particularly fetishized at this moment. No fewer than 3 people gave me salt this holiday season, bringing my collection to 18 different types! A couple of the gifts came from the same store: The Meadow, on Hudson Street in New York City. Jennifer Turner Bitterman and her husband “selmelier” Mark Bitterman founded this boutique in Portland in 2006. It specializes in salt, chocolate, flowers and wine (though on a recent visit I noticed only bitters; more on those later). The assortment of salts is truly mind-blowing. From Bengal Blue to Smoked Red Alder, there are more than 100 types, sourced from all over the world. The most instantly striking thing in the store are blocks and slabs of pink Himalayan salt, big translucent pieces for cooking and serving food. You can arrange sashimi on a chilled brick of the stuff and watch the edges of the fish turn pale and firm as it actually cures right there. Or heat a block on the stove or the barbeque and grill thin slices of flank steak for a unique and delicately salty flavor. I can’t wait to try this!

the meadow is a sunny sliver of a shop on hudson street

from left: curry, haleakala ruby, celtic, ginger sea salt, iburi jio cherry and soy salts

The Meadow’s collection of salts is sold as “finishing salts.” Essentially, this means you aren’t supposed to lob great handfuls of it into your dishes. The flavors range from subtle to quite intense and are meant to be layered atop a dish as a final accent.

The Iburi Jio Cherry, for instance, is a Japanese smoked sea salt that has a richly smoky, almost bacony aroma and flavor. At $31 for a teensy jar, you want to use this wisely. Why so expensive? It’s premium quality sea salt that’s collected from the unpolluted, deep sea waters off the shores of the Oga Peninsula in Akita Prefecture in northern Japan, then slowly crystallized in a large pot over a fire of pure cherry wood for three days. It was inspired by this prefecture’s famed iburi-gakko, a smoked and pickled daikon radish. Artisanal, baby. The result is rich in magnesium, calcium and potassium, which add to its complex flavor. It’s heaven sprinkled over steamed Japanese rice; over chocolate ice cream it’s insane.

lunch is avocado on a spelt cracker finished with soy salt

The chocolate-brown, pleasantly chunky soy salt is deliciously crunchy and the perfect counterpoint to buttery avocado. Other great mediums for letting the flavors of salt shine through are buttered bread, cucumbers, chocolate and mild cheeses like ricotta and cottage. Stumped for other places to sprinkle your salt? On soups, scrambled eggs, fish, grilled meats, ceviches, popcorn, fruit (melon with salt is sublime; so are mangoes and apples, for that matter), yogurt (I used the curry salt for this and it was amazing), salads, etc, etc.

With beautiful citrus in full swing now, here is a simple and classic cocktail you can customize with one of your new finishing salts.

SALTY DOG

makes one drink

2 ounces gin

4 ounces fresh grapefruit juice

finishing salt, like Taha’s Vanilla or Maboroshi Plum or any good quality sea salt

lemon or lime wedge

Swipe the rim of a cold rocks glass or wine glass with a wedge of lemon or lime. Coat the rim with salt.

Shake grapefruit juice and gin together over ice. Pour the whole thing into the salted glass. (I like mine served on the rocks.) Squeeze in a bit of lime or lemon and toss in the wedge.

Wouldn’t you know, on the day we leave the country to spend time in the city, here comes the snow?! It hasn’t quite started yet, but G says we even need to be prepared for the possibility that the Broadway show for which we have tickets tonight may be cancelled. I don’t feel bad for my sake, especially since we already saw Fela last year, but it was to be a special treat for my sister and niece. Fingers crossed. We’re expecting feet of snow. G and I are on our way to Todos Santos, on the Baja peninsula for a little R&R. I’ll be sorry to miss the snowshoeing and cross-country skiing possibilities, but I can’t really complain. There will be more snow in our future. In the meantime, a few suggestions for keeping warm as you huddle indoors, safe from the biting winds and plummeting temperatures.

part therapy, part cocktail

Hot toddies are traditionally drunk before going to bed, or in wet or inclement weather. Once believed to help cure the common cold and even the flu, the American Lung Association now recommends you avoid treating these illnesses with anything containing alcohol as it causes dehydration. I’m not sure about its curative properties, but a hot toddy will warm you from top to bottom. And I do find it can work wonders on a sore throat.

The traditional recipe calls for pouring a shot of Scotch into a cup and adding boiling water, a spoonful of honey, half a slice of lemon, two cloves and a cinnamon stick.  Steep for three to five minutes before enjoying.

Here are some variations on the theme, as well as a couple of recipes for other warming drinks that go down like a charm when you’re fighting a chill.

HOT TODDY

serves 1

1 ounce (2 tablespoons) bourbon

1 tablespoon honey

2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup boiling water

Put bourbon, honey, and lemon juice in a mug. Top off with hot water and stir until honey is dissolved.

Variations: substitute rum; add ginger; make tea with the water first (Darjeeling is nice)

HOT BUTTERED RUM

serves 1

2 or 3 ounces dark rum

twist of lemon peel

1 cinnamon stick

2 cloves

Sweet cider or water

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon sweet butter

nutmeg

Put the rum, lemon peel, cinnamon and cloves in a pewter tankard or any heavy 12-ounce mug that has been rinsed in very hot water to warm it. Heat the cider or water to the boiling point and pour into the spiced rum. Add the honey and the pat of butter and stir well. Grate a little nutmeg on top.

GLÖGG

[Swedish Mulled Wine]

1.5 liter bottle of dry red wine  (something decent)

1.5 liter bottle of port (ditto)

1 bottle of inexpensive brandy

10 cinnamon sticks

1 tablespoon cardamom seeds

18 whole cloves

Peel of one orange

1/2 cup raisins

1 cup blanched almonds

2 cups sugar

A second orange peel for garnishing

Pour wine and port into stainless steel or porcelain pot. Add cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, orange peel, raisins, and almonds. Warm gently; do not boil as this burns off the alcohol.

Place sugar in a separate pan. Soak with half the bottle of brandy. Warm sugar and brandy over low heat. Let sugar melt and bubble until it becomes a golden syrup of caramelized sugar.

Add caramelized sugar to spiced wine mix. Cover and let mull for an hour. Before serving, strain to remove spices; add brandy to taste. Warm gently over low heat. Garnish mugs of glögg with fresh orange peel.

Substitutions: dried cherries for the raisins; whiskey or bourbon in place of brandy; brown sugar instead of white.

MULLED WINE

Serves 4

1 large orange

2 cardamom pods

6 whole cloves

6 allspice berries

6 whole black peppercorns

1 cinnamon stick, plus 4 for garnish (optional)

1 bottle (3 cups) fruity red wine

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup brandy

With a fine grater, zest, then juice the orange.

With the flat side of a knife, press firmly on the cardamom pods to bruise them. In a large pot (not aluminum), combine zest, juice, cardamom, cloves, allspice, peppercorns, cinnamon, wine, sugar, and brandy. Cook over medium heat, stirring, until sugar dissolves, 1 to 2 minutes.

Reduce heat to low; simmer until flavors have melded, about 30 minutes. Pour through a fine-mesh sieve; garnish with cinnamon stick, if desired. Serve immediately.

I’m a sucker for citrus. It’s such a relief when oranges, grapefruit and lemons begin flooding in from California and Florida at this time of year. Although I adore very tart lemons, I love the lightly sweeter and more perfumey Meyer variety. Their smooth, thin skin is an electric golden yellow that seems to compensate, just a bit, for the lack of sunshine these days. I grabbed an armload at Fairway yesterday and, since they are a bit fragile and don’t keep for so long, I’m going to immediately turn them into syrup and marmalade. The former will make wonderfully refreshing spritzers, especially with the addition of fresh rosemary. The latter will nicely cut through the rich fattiness of roasts or perhaps even our Christmas goose. And, of course, you can always preserve some lemons, as I’ve done again this year. Here’s a recipe from last spring, along with one for chicken tagine, and a place to order organic Meyer lemons, if you’re so inclined.

This year I added some lightly toasted coriander seeds, green peppercorns, cinnamon sticks and a couple of bay leaves for a bit more complex spicing. Chopped preserved lemon rind is delicious mixed into rice, vegetable salads and all manner of mayonnaises and dressings.

It may seem a bit confusing, but citrus foods are not acidifying to the body; they are, in fact, an alkalinizing food and an excellent detoxifier. Try making this zesty syrup, and use it as indicated for spritzers or in a cocktail, or drizzled over pancakes, pound cake or lemon ice cream.

MEYER LEMON ROSEMARY SPRITZER

makes 6

4 cups water

1/2 cup sugar, or equal amount mild honey

6 Meyer lemons, thinly sliced (remove seeds if you like)

3 rosemary sprigs

4 1/2 cups sparkling water, chilled

Bring water and sugar (or honey) to a gentle boil in a large saucepan, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add lemon slices and rosemary sprigs. Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Let stand for an hour or so. Strain and discard solids. Return liquid to pan, and boil until reduced by half, 5-10 minutes. Cool completely. Fill each of 6 glasses with ice cubes and 3/4 cup sparkling water. Stir 1/4 cup syrup into each.

Here’s a very simple recipe for Meyer lemon marmalade. If you don’t want to get all involved in canning, you can  just make a smaller quantity to keep in your fridge. And for truly divine decadence, here’s a recipe for Meyer lemon curd. Want to save on fat and calories without sacrificing too much flavor? Scroll down here for my lowfat lemon curd recipe. As a rule of thumb, any time you want to substitute regular lemons for Meyer, just add a little more sugar or honey to compensate.

I guess you can’t call them ice cubes if they’re round, huh? If you’re not already familiar with the craze for super-large blocks of ice in cocktails, let this be your introduction. Although I’m no expert in the matter, I believe this concept originated with the Japanese. Let’s face it, from tea to little girls’ undies, no one takes a fetish further. For them, it was all about the ultimate glass of whiskey. The way to drink it cold but undiluted was poured over a large, perfectly spherical and very-slow-melting ice ball. In an aggressive but skilled fashion, Japanese bartenders—and some local copycats—actually carve them out of solid blocks of ice. (If you doubt me, see here.) For a slightly less dangerous approach, with strikingly similar results, you can simply use Muji’s spherical silicone mold. The countless “Penicillin” cocktails I’ve enjoyed at Momofuku Ssam—and also recreated at home—finally convinced me to try the big ice thing. At Momofuku they use blocks, but these round ones work just fine. They’re about 3 inches in diameter.

The molds, made of thick, pliable white silicone, come in two pieces. They’re not the easiest things in the world to maneuver, so be sure to run them under hot water to loosen them before you start prying the two sides apart.

The Muji site also suggests you use the molds for “jelly.” Not exactly sure what they have in mind, but could be interesting.

The spheres actually look really beautiful in a glass. Try them in this delicious seasonal cocktail, which I’ve dubbed Apple of Your Eye. Or just try the cocktail. Gigantic ice may not be your particular fetish.

APPLE OF YOUR EYE

makes 1 cocktail

1 ounce cider syrup (recipe below)

1 ounce fresh lemon juice

2 ounces Calvados

Pour into shaker with ice and shake vigorously. Strain into a chilled rocks glass, preferably (but not necessarily) over a large ice sphere. Garnish with a twist of orange peel.

CIDER SYRUP

2 cups organic apple cider

1 tablespoon dark muscovado sugar

1 tablespoon grade B maple syrup

3 star anise

Stir ingredients together in a small saucepan and bring to a strong simmer. Reduce by half. Cool before using.

Alex Raij is the chef and co-owner of Txikito, a wonderful restaurant in Manhattan with its own uniquely personal take on Basque cuisine. I have eaten there on many occasions—on my own or with a friend for lunch, with groups big and small for dinner—and she has never failed to impress me with her imaginative and delicious cooking. El Quinto Pino, a more traditional tapas bar, is also part of her empire, which I’m sure will continue to diversify and grow in popularity. Chef Alex was kind enough to agree to an interview and submitted to a quick photo session with G. She even passed along a recipe for the basil pomada served at El Quinto Pino (I’ve done my best to adapt it faithfully). The result is the first of what I hope will be a series of interviews on gluttonforlife.

GFL: With your recent contribution to the Ortegas’ The Book of Tapas and your two New York City restaurants, you’re becoming a well-known authority on tapas. Do you enjoy being so closely associated with this one type of cooking?

AR: I love tapas and especially the relaxed lifestyle they reflect. I find it quite easy to freestyle in the tapas tradition, but I also think we are known for cooking in season in a very personal way that is very satisfying.

GFL: Many people seem to think of tapas as purely restaurant food. But couldn’t they try any number of tapas as the basis for a home meal?

AR: Sure, there are many. But if served at home I think of them more as a picada, a snack. It’s a different type of hospitality, but the same spirit of generosity and the same notion of food and drink as inseparable.

GFL: Can you think of three American dishes that could qualify as tapas?

AR: Off the top of my head: deviled eggs, pigs in a blanket, crackers and cheese.

GFL: Given that food and drink are so inextricably intertwined, especially in Spanish culture, would you like the opportunity to offer selections beyond wine and beer at Txikito?

AR: We do have a couple of cocktails and some spirits, but even they reflect those you’d find in the Basque country: gin and tonic, rum and coke, Pacharrán (a sloe liqueur), chupitos de hierbas, brandy, vermouth, sherry and Zurracapote, a wine cocktail with dried fruits. But ultimately, beer and wine are the most food-friendly, and what I crave when I’m in Spain.

GFL: How did you develop the very unique cocktails on offer at El Quinto Pino?

AR: The summer before I opened El Quinto Pino, I went to Cataluña and Menorca where I drank lots of horchata and first tried pomada, a Menorcan gin lemonade. Very often there they are granizados, or frozen. I wanted to serve our version of them, making the horchata into a milk punch with brandy and adding basil to the pomada. I had no idea it would generate a new interest in frozen drinks!

GFL: How do you characterize the differences between the two restaurants?

AR: El Quinto Pino is a multi-regional tapas bar that reflects just how varied Spanish cuisine can be—even at the tapas level—as well as all the viticultural possibilities. Still, its main function is to show off the delicious convivial atmosphere of a classic tapas bar and have it serve the same social function for New Yorkers as it does for Spaniards. That’s why I started serving breakfast there. The tapas bar in Spain is an extension of the home, and for many people El Quinto Pino is just that.

Txikito is the same in its friendliness, and offers some pintxos (a specific style of Basque tapas), but it is a full-service restaurant that casts a wide net over all the ways one might eat in the Basque country. So, there’s home cooking, casual restaurant food, large cider house steaks and other more creative dishes you would find in a fine dining restaurant serving “Cocina de Autor.” Txikito, with its austere and rustic interior, is meant to evoke a Basque spirit, where the collection of dishes, wines and service are connected by a quiet commitment to quality that leaves a strong impression. That’s just the Basque way.

GFL: What is the advantage to having small restaurants?

AR: I think the small restaurant can be far more interesting, even if it has fewer resources for equipment, staff and PR. Lack of these things can generate an out-of-the-box thinking that is good for food, and certainly a greater intimacy with the product, the dishes, the staff and customers that I find healthy.

GFL: You’ve said that writing a cookbook is contingent upon “having some practical application to the home cook that I haven’t thought of yet.” Is this because you’re a restaurant chef and don’t cook much at home?

AR: No, though that is true most of the time. It’s because I have a deep love for cookbooks and the ones I love are what I consider to be “generous books,” books that give you tools that will forever change how you cook no matter what you’re cooking. I would like any book I write to help expand one’s repertoire, but also enhance one’s comfort making food overall. It should have enduring value.

GFL: What role does your husband, Eder Montero, play? What is the interaction/inspiration like between the two of you?

AR: We are a team. We have very different skills and appreciate each other. Eder is great operationally and finds true joy in driving production. He also knows the dishes of his youth. He doesn’t create that much, so when he does it is very fresh and unencumbered by a particular vision or style. I express my style in very narrow parameters by applying it to Spanish cuisine, so I find creating and drawing connections to be quite easy and satisfying, though never arbitrary. I’m also very entrepreneurial and like to develop businesses. I think I have a sense of what is good and know how to adapt and translate those things so they can be shared with others. This is a very Basque trait, by the way. Who knows where I got it.

GFL: According to you, although female chefs may not get as many awards as their male counterparts, they can have more quality in their lives in many other ways. To what other ways are you referring?

AR: I definitely meant professionally, not that women have more outside sources of quality of life—we should all aspire to that. What I meant was that I know more women who perhaps do not win awards but have more rewarding careers and cook more on their own terms. I guess it’s all in how you define success. I have been commercially successful making very personal food. Sometimes I find that men seem to find personal success making commercial food that it would not please me to make.

I recently saw a blog posting on a reputable cooking magazine’s site that I found so absurd. It was a photo slide-show of the babies of star chefs. I don’t think there was a single individual on the list that had even birthed a child, maybe one. One day male chefs are poster children for fatherhood, and the next are bragging about how they never take a day off. The demands of celebrity are such that one is forced to be inauthentic and to deliver the “right” response. I don’t know too many women chefs who feel they have to do that, and I’m so glad I don’t have to.

GFL: Where were you born and raised?

AR: Born in Chicago, raised Minneapolis.

GFL: What are your first memories of food?

AR: A box of raisins, cinnamon toast, empanadas, cherries jubilee, homemade pizza.

GFL: Which foods remind you of home?

AR: Roast chicken, butterflied leg of lamb.

GFL: At what age did you become interested in cooking professionally?

AR: I always played restaurant, and my first jobs were with food. I can’t remember not being interested.

GFL: You’ve said that you take the notion of “greenmarket eating” as a given. Are you conscientious about how you source all your ingredients?

AR: No. We could do better and should do better and will do better.

GFL: Where do you stand on using organic foods, grass-fed beef, sustainable fish, etc.?

AR: Pastured everything is where I have been challenged, because I haven’t found commercial beef products I love. I spend a lot of time shopping, but I wish people would visit me with samples because taste is everything for me. We buy a lot of our vegetables from the green market in season, and usually choose from farmers who may not necessarily be certified but have organic practices. We buy some dairy and goat’s milk there, too, and fish from Blue Moon. Our olive oil is organic (and very costly—we use tons of it!), and so are many of our wines, though not exclusively.

GFL: Do you read many blogs? Which are your favorites?

AR: I read yours all the time now. I like Michael Rulhman’s, Travelers Lunch Box and Michael Laiskonis’. I learn a lot from the internet, but not always from one particular place. Usually, I just run searches and end up in great places I can never find again.

GFL: What do you think is their current contribution to the food world?

AR: On one hand, they have created a climate of gossip, but there is also a real sharing that is happening that I find just amazing.

MENORCAN BASIL POMADA

adapted from El Quinto Pino

serves 6

I used lemon basil but everyone agreed the drink would work better with regular basil

1 packed cup fresh basil leaves

1 cup sugar  (I used organic cane sugar but, yes, the whitish stuff)

3 cups water

1 cup fresh lemon juice

12 ounces gin (Alex recommends Plymouth or Beefeater; I used Boodles)

Combine sugar and basil in cuisinart and process until very finely ground.

Scrape basil-sugar into a small bowl and pour the lemon juice over. Set aside to let sugar melt, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Then combine with water and gin in your ice cream maker, and run the machine until the pomada is slushy, similar to a frozen margarita. Pour into a rocks, a highball or a martini/margarita glass and garnish with a sprig of basil. Sip on a porch or beach while wearing sandals and feeling very Menorcan!