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July 2013

For the most part, I like cocktail garnishes to be elegant. Thinly-cut lemon or lime peels, a single sprig of mint or lavender, a trio of olives aligned on a cocktail pick. There’s nothing worse than an obnoxious half-wedge of citrus on the rim of a cocktail glass, one that threatens to throw the whole affair off-balance. (I’m the first to admit that I haven’t always erred on the side of restraint in such matters, but I was younger then, and far more foolish.)

Yet some drinks demand an over-the-top garnish, one that is as much a part of the drink as the alcohol itself, and such is the case with the Bloody Mary. My all-time favorite variation of this meal-unto-itself was created in Cape Cod by my friend Lee. She presented a pint glass of tomato juice, vodka, and horseradish, with a cocktail stick rife with olives, lemon wedges, and even a cocktail shrimp for a brunch treat that took my breath away. From that day forward, I never thought of the Bloody Mary in the same way again.

Another Cape friend, Wally, recommended I give gin a whirl in the place of vodka, and that was a revelation of its own. I actually prefer that twist nowadays, as I find gin preferable to vodka. This past weekend I was inspired by the vesper, and tried the Bloody with equal parts vodka and gin, along with a garnish of fresh dill and dill blossom from the garden.

The blossom part was a bit dicey – in such heat it wilted almost instantly, but the flavor and tart and tangy bite of the dill lent a delicious new slant to the proceedings, and would tie it in nicely to a fresh herb omelette. Here are some of the possibilities for making a Bloody Mary into an event.

The beauty of this cocktail is in the way you want it to go. Pepper infused vodkas, hot sauce, and a habanero garnish can provide as much heat as you can stand, while a simple stalk of celery and a couple of cherry tomatoes can tone it all down. The garnish can be as light or as heavy as you want it to be – on some menus I’ve seen it served as a salad – and as cocktails go, this is one of the healthier ones. Fruits and vegetables in one savory swoop. Every brunch should be so Bloody.

A couple of years ago Andy and I threw ‘The Last Word Lavender Party’ in the midst of a lovely July. While the official cocktail of that evening was the Last Word, the unofficial cocktail for a few select friends (because my lavender was of such short supply) was this lavender cocktail. It’s basically a gin martini with a lavender twist (blasphemy to FUSSYlittleBLOG, I know), but this is actually quite elegant and refined, and anything that’s got bitters can’t be all bad in my book.

The great thing about lavender used in food and libations is that while it is indeed floral, it’s not necessarily sweet. (We all know how much I abhor a sweet cocktail.) In this instance, the gin and the bitters ameliorate any cloying action of the lavender syrup. (I also tend to go easy on any sort of syrup in my drinks, so keep that in mind when referencing the recipe. This isn’t fucking high school.)

A West Coast friend was visiting Sequim, WA and was good enough to send me a batch of the culinary lavender seen here. Culled from the Purple Haze Lavender Farm, it’s a little can of lusciously-scented purple-hued wonder ~ floral gold for the eyes and nose. As luck would have it, one of my lavender plants in the backyard was in bud – the optimal time to harvest – so I used that and amended it with the buds from the can to make up the necessary amount for the recipe. (It also afforded the garnish.)

The most important ingredient is, of course, the lavender, and the syrup is, literally, a simple one:

This is not one of those cocktails you drink all the time, like a martini or a Bloody Mary – this is for special occasions. A summer evening when the lavender is in bloom, or a sunny day when guests are brunching on the patio and bees are buzzing in the garden. I can also see it used on a cold fall or winter day, when the fragrance of lavender is needed to warm the cockles of the heart. It’s an ephemeral drink, when one needs a moment to indulge, to pause and reflect, and then to move on.