It's Not What It Looks Like!

Don't let the pictures fool you: this is not a post about Christmas. It is a post about the rewards of working with a team to produce an event that is memorable and special.  I have a fair bit of experience with this, and am proud of the work I've participated in, and its results.

I've helped execute large events off and on for the last four years, but there is something different about being the originator of the event.  In the past, I have been a footsoldier at weddings, seminars, wedding- and baby showers, and been one of Santa's Sweatshop Elves for an entire season.  What they all have in common are two things.  First, there is a moment of tornadic chaos every time, where I feel like we have completely lost control of the event.  Second, the chaos is followed by a supreme satisfaction, when everything is settled and the guests are enjoying themselves, oftentimes in ways unforeseen by the planners.  They are smiling and laughing and chatting and sometimes dancing, and their happiness is my happiness.  The gorgeous cakes, the beautiful brides, and I confess the Father-Daughter Dance gets me every time.

But one of my favorite memories of working hard in a group to make something special for others was a different sort of event altogether.  It is the moment when, after about 13 hours of heavy lifting, intricate lighting and mental toughness, we finally lit the 40-foot tree we'd erected in the pond at Northwestern Mutual's downtown location. Exhausted from a long day hauling boxes of tree parts, climbing scaffolds, fingers aching from putting thousands of lights on the tree, we flopped down, shellshocked and worn out. It was dark in the lobby, the sun having gone down fast like it does in December and we all marvelled at what our teamwork produced.  It was only one part of their Holiday design, but it will always be the greatest thing we did that year, to me.

This old picture, taken on a flip-phone, can't do justice to the peaceful feeling and pride of work we felt that night. 

I've got another event coming up this weekend, and it's quite different in many ways.  I conceived it months ago, and have spent countless hours preparing for its success with my co-workers, promoting it (in my abundant free time...), and now it's right around the corner.

The Great Sconnie Sip-Off will be held in the Waukesha Chancery bar on Saturday, September 15 at 7pm. When it first occurred to me to host a cocktail competition using only ingredients made in Wisconsin, I could never have imagined that way people around me would embrace the challenge, and the challenges of coordinating an event like this. I am grateful especially to all the Chancery mixologists that creatively invented new cocktails, our celebrity judges Guy Rehorst, Angie West and Ira Koplowitz, my co-workers Kahara, Togie and Ro and our treasured guests who will sample these drinks to choose the People's Choice Award.

Right now, the drinks have been created and vetted for compliance, judges are lined up, prizes are in our possession and we are all clear on the plan. We look forward to seeing you all on Saturday night and thank you for having this fun with us!

Even Better

 

There is good, and then there is better.
You recall that awhile back I wrote about Eben Freeman's fat-washing technique to impart the flavors of any fat to any spirit. Brown butter rum, peanut butter bourbon, bacon vodka: there is no limit.

All the buzz these days is about bacon, but I expect this will change, as all things do. In the meantime, let a vegetarian teach you an even better way to infuse your spirit of choice with the smoky, meaty flavor of bacon.

Last week I was working on a cocktail for my upcoming competition, the Great Sconnie Sip-Off. The cantaloupe shrub came out nicely, as did the cucumber vodka, but the lavender rock-candy failed to perform in time for the preliminary trials. At the last minute I was left with nothing to present. I did what you would have done: I improvised.

I had some Roaring Dan's Maple Flavored rum in the house, and I bought some bacon. I used Freeman's technique of pouring the fat of the bacon into the spirit to give it bacon's flavor. It gave it smokiness, but it lacked umami. I bought more rum. I bought more bacon.

That night at work, I met a man who claims he makes the best bacon on earth. "What is your secret?" I asked breathlessly. He told me, and I will tell you. Cook it like barbecue: low and slow, paying careful attention to each slice as an individual. It took forever, but what I produced was bacon as gorgeous as any I have seen in life.

I put the fat and the bacon in the jar with the Maple-Flavored rum and what resulted was a spirit I knew would pass muster. Just to be sure, I brought it to my co-worker, Jo Curley. The girl loves bacon not in the obsessional way of hipsters, but in the true way of a connoisseur. She was hesitant to try it, worried I would have wasted perfectly good bacon. She was satisfied, but I was not. I riddled her with a machine-gun volley of questions. Does it taste like bacon? Is it weird? Is it good?

According to Jo, I hit the nail on the head. This is how I did it:

You will need one package of Patrick Cudahy Bacon, one bottle of Roaring Dan's Maple Flavored Rum and the patience to cook that bacon very slowly. You will also need a clean canning jar large enough to hold it all. Pour the rum into the jar, put the cooked, cooled bacon and its fat into the jar and let it sit on the counter in your kitchen overnight. The next day, put the jar in the freezer to separate out the fat. Spoon off the fat and remove the bacon. Strain the liquid through cheesecloth, and then through coffee filters until it is clear and lovely. That is all.

In case you wondered what kind of cocktail I made with it, it is pictured above, and its recipe follows.

Bacon Cocktail

1.5 oz. Bacon Infused Roaring Dan's Rum

.5 oz. Anderson's Maple Syrup

8 drops Bittercube Orange Bitters

Sprecher Ginger Ale

Combine rum, maple syrup and bitters in your mixing tin and shake. Pour into cocktail glass and top with ginger ale. Garnish with bacon.

Inside the Process

It was a perfect day... the first day the heat broke. I was driving with the windows down. My dog, Chloe, was adorably barking her fool head off at everything in creation and all felt right with the world. I have passed this cute little farmstand a couple of times a week since the beginning of summer and meant to stop. Today was my day.

I pulled off the road and unloaded the dog and we walked across the warm gravel toward a young mother and her two children and the whole thing could hardly have been more Norman Rockwell if there had been two boys headed off the the fishin' hole. It was perfect. I had already decided to buy whatever she was selling; thanks to our recent drought the selection was somewhat limited. Limited, but locally-grown and beautiful.

I bought a couple of bags of produce and went on my way and I didn't think any more of it. I'm coordinating a cocktail competition and have a lot on my mind -- most of all my mixology block. I plan and execute whole menus of cocktails, seasonally -- this little thing should be no problem. All I had to do was invent a cocktail using only ingredients from the Great State of Wisconsin. I love cocktails. I love Wisconsin. It should have been a snap.

Slowly, it all came together. The fresh cucumbers I bought at the farmstand went into a jar of Rehorst vodka, which they softened and to which they imparted a fresh, green flavor. With no real plan in mind, I then made some lavender-infused sugar.

I've been growing some lavender out back of the bar. Lavender infused sugar is as simple as putting lavender in a bag and letting time do the work. Remember when I wrote about oleo saccharum? I was surprised to see the sugar is getting ever-so-slightly melted from the essential oils in the flowers, just like the lemon oil melts the baker's sugar.

Then I melted the sugar in boiling water to make a supersaturated simple syrup which should crystallize into rock candy - remember rock candy? Rock candy, being supersaturated, is exponentially sweeter than simple syrup, Mine, having begun with herb-infused sugar, then having that same herb added at the end of boiling, will -- cross your fingers -- should have a big lavender flavor to match so that a little will go a long way.

I think it will need an acidifier to balance it out and then we should be in business. Brennan's has some nice Wisconsin canteloupe and I'm thinking shrub...