I Got Your Horse Right Here: This Kentucky Clover Hits The Bourbonite's Trifecta!

In describing his already-ebullient nature the "Match Game" panel fixture Charles Nelson Reilly once said, "I'm usually at about a four. But with a little bourbon I can take it to 13." 

As a self-described bourbonite, I've yet to find a quote that better captures the spirit of my beverage of choice. Festive and feisty, bourbon can also be smooth and seductive. And, as years of imbibing have taught me, it has an adaptable year round appeal. 

Unlike Scotch which seems well-suited for winter, or vodka or tequila which, in my opinion, have an inherent chill making them perfect for summer, bourbon isn't a strictly seasonal pour. In every month on the calendar there are occasions that seem custom-made for the drink. So, it stands to reason that there should be drinks custom-made for those events. 

With May about to bloom, and with the Triple Crown at the gate, I wanted to christen a special cocktail in honor of this weekend's Kentucky Derby. In fashioning that drink, I turned to three different classics from the whiskey/ bourbon catalog and set out to create something new. I started with the basic ingredients of the Whiskey Sour, the Mint Julep and the Manhattan, and after a lot of shaking, stirring, steeping and pouring - down the drain as often as down the hatch, I have to say - I hit upon two formulas that made me, and those who shared them, quite happy. 

I approach making cocktails the same way I cook. I follow my instincts, marrying flavors and textures that I think complement each other. Just as I've never studied under a professional chef, beyond a few classes here and there, I've never taken a proper bartending class. There are several wonderful opportunities for the latter here in San Francisco, most notably the acclaimed courses offered at Bourbon & Branch. The classes are a little pricey, though, and while I'm not opposed to being taught by a master mixologist, I've already spent a great deal of time and money learning how to drink. It was at a place called Penn State. 

Relying on my instincts, and previous imbibing experience, I set out to concoct a drink this week that accomplished three goals: I wanted to enhance the inherent oakiness of the bourbon, reflect a bit of the Triple Crown's tradition, and also give a nod to the bright promise of spring. The result? A little cocktail I call the Kentucky Clover. 

I'll give a quick run down of its inception, then I'll get out of your way. I started the recipe with the idea of adding cloves and allspice to bourbon. The roundness of the allspice seemed a good match for the booze as did the bite and heat of the clove, but I was concerned they might be too warm for this time of year. I cooled them down with some ginger, orange peel and fresh-squeezed lemon juice. While all of these elements combined well, the sweetness of the drink was still overpowering. I cut back on the syrup - which I was relying upon for its viscosity - and then tried adding more lemon juice and also a jigger of vermouth. I liked both versions, while my taste-testers threw their votes behind the cocktail containing vermouth. 

Please ask any questions and please share your stories. The feedback is always greatly appreciated!

The Kentucky Clover 

For the spiced syrup.... 

2 cups sugar

1 1/2 cups water

13 whole allspice berries

7  whole cloves

peel of half an orange (or more if you prefer)

1/2 tsp fresh, minced ginger root

For the cocktail...

1 to 2 TBS fresh-squeezed lemon juice (I prefer more, than less)

2 oz bourbon of choice

2 oz vermouth 

1 to 2 oz of spiced syrup 

For the garnish...

Slice fresh lemon

Slice blood orange (or regular orange)

Sprigs of fresh mint 

Ice 

1. Make the syrup by dissolving sugar in water over medium heat. Stir frequently. Add spices, orange peel and ginger. (FYI: I used a vegetable peeler on the orange, pounded on the strips to help release the oils, then threw them in. I did not go down to the center of the fruit.) Bring to just a boil, turn heat down and allow to simmer for 20 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to steep for at least an hour. Let cool. Strain. (If you prefer a syrup with real zip allow the spices to remain in longer.) 

2. Place desired amount of ice into rocks glass. Pour in the bourbon, followed by the cooled syrup, then add lemon juice. Using a bartender's spoon or an iced tea spoon, stir to combine. 

* If you're not going to add the vermouth you can stop here. Garnish and serve. 

3. Pour vermouth into glass and again, stir to combine. Garnish and serve. Enjoy responsibly! 

NOTES: I used Maker's Mark for one version of this and Bulleit for another. I also had some Jim Beam on the shelf but didn't get around to making a version with it. The vermouth I used was sweet, but you can use dry if you prefer. If you choose to leave out the vermouth entirely the cocktail will lean more toward the flavoring of a Whiskey Sour. If you add the vermouth you'll have hints of a Manhattan. I also tried adding blood orange juice in one version but the color of the drink was not appealing and the flavor was a little too acidic. Juice from a navel orange was a nice addition but it boosted the overall sugariness of the drink to a level I wasn't happy with so I left it out in subsequent batches. 

Metabolism Be Damned! Let Them Eat Frosted Orange Cardamom Cake with Orange Saffron Glaze!

A disclaimer before I begin: Let me say that I am not here to decry the pie. Love it, in fact. Nor am I here to crumble the cookie's popularity. Where would we be without its portability? And while I am not trying to squash the continuing cupcake trend I would like to ask its proponents to just maybe consider making them a little.... bigger. Please? That said, I am simply here to make my continued case for my devotion to cake. Read on...

When I was a kid I went through a period during which I secretly longed to live in France. Any country famous for a leader who said "Let them eat cake!" was my kinda place. That was, of course, before I knew my history and the meaning behind Marie Antoinette's [alleged] remark and the indifference it displayed. Nevertheless my misinterpretation of that quote was early evidence of what would become a lifelong devotion, nay, obsession, with cake. Yes, let them eat cake. Let them all eat cake! A ruler who would deny their subjects such a pleasure - now that would be one callous despot, don't you think?  

As most people who know me can attest, I have lived and eaten as if cake was the wrongfully-snubbed "Fifth" of the original Four Food Groups. As a staunch supporter of its overlooked status, I used to strive to have at least one serving from that group every day. Notice the past tense: Despite the charms, of which there are many, the carb content of a slice of cake can make for a cruel, albeit delicious, mistress. There's no romanticizing the sluggish metabolism of a 45 year old man. There is, however, some warped humor in the idea that after a lifetime of helplessly declaring "I can't bake," upon moving to San Francisco I have totally embraced flour power. It hasn't been without a begrudging sense of moderation, though. As much as I hate to admit it, for the sake of my waistline, and my wardrobe, I've only developed a dalliance, and not a full blown habit. 

Why? Because, it seems, the bastards were right. You can't have your cake and eat it too. At least not at this age, and certainly not as often as you like. 

Well, you can, I suppose, if you want to lessen the sugar, cream, butter, milk and egg contents. But I'm not so sure that's always that much fun. (Unless of course we're talking about that miraculous concoction of egg whites; the aptly-named Angel Food Cake.) 

But if you're one of us, the kind of person that - as my friend Sam of Zannino's Catering so perfectly and succinctly put it - "has a thing for cake," then you know it's all or nothing. If you're in for a calorie, then you're in for the resulting pound. 

Whether glazed or frosted, layered or sheet, I am powerless before the confection. 

What you will find below is an adaptation of a classic cake recipe from a recent issue of Everyday Foods. It adapts well to substitutes and additions so if there's something else you'd like to try beside the cardamom, orange and saffron that I opted for, give it a go. And if you're like me and you had to buy that Vivienne Westwood cake server from her shop on Conduit Street, by all means find as many reasons to use it as possible! Please ask if you have any questions. (About the cake, I mean, though I can probably answer many of your questions about Vivienne Westwood, too!)

Frosted Orange Cardamom Cake with Orange Saffron Glaze 

For the cake... 

1 cup unsalted butter, brought to room temperature, and extra for buttering cake pans

2 1/2 cups flour, leveled, and extra to dust pans

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

2 tsp ground cardamom

2 TBS zest from an orange

2 TBS fresh-squeezed orange juice

1 1/2 cups of sugar 

2 large eggs

3 egg yolks (save whites for frosting)

1 cup buttermilk 

For the frosting... 

3 egg whites

3/4 cup sugar

1/8 tsp salt

1/3 cup water

1/4 tsp vanilla extract

For the glaze... 

Five thin slices of orange

1/4 cup fresh-squeezed orange juice

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

1/8 tsp saffron threads, crumbled 

1. Preheat oven to 350 F. Butter and dust two 8 inches cake pans with flour. Knock out excess. I added a sheet of parchment paper, cut round, to the bottom of each pan. 

2. Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cardamom into large bowl. Whisk together. Add orange zest and whisk again, lightly. Make sure zest doesn't clump. 

3. In a mixing bowl - I use an old Kitchenaid - cream sugar and butter til fluffy. Slowly add two eggs, three yolks, one at a time - so says Martha - and add orange juice. Up the speed on your mixer to medium and begin adding flour, then buttermilk, flour then buttermilk, alternating until flour is last thing added. Don't over mix. 

4. Split batter evenly between two cake pans. Bake at least 30 minutes. You know your oven better than I do, so keep an eye on them. Use the "clean toothpick" trick to test for doneness. I used spring-form pans and didn't have to loosen the cakes with a knife, but if you used a regular pan you might want to run a blade around the outside of the cakes. Turn cakes over onto a wire rack. Mine came right out of their pans. Cool. (I left the parchment paper on until it came time to glaze, and I'm glad I did.) 

5. While cakes are cooling, place orange slices, sugar, water and saffron in a pan and heat over low heat until sugar dissolves. If you want to go for the candied slices, cook for about 30 minutes, then remove citrus onto wax paper to cool. Either way, remove fruit, stir in orange juice, make sure all sugar is dissolved and then set aside to cool.

6. When cakes have cooled, take that toothpick that you used to check for their doneness and poke as many holes in the top of each cake as you wish. With a large spoon, pour orange saffron glaze over top of each cake. It will immediately sink into the cake so try to distribute evenly. You don't want one portion of the cake soaked more heavily than another. Set aside.

7. In a double boiler - if you don't have one, you can float a pot or shatter-proof bowl over hot water - stir together three egg whites, sugar, salt and water. Add the water judiciously. When it looks like sugar has dissolved, remove from heat and transfer to mixing bowl. (Be careful. You don't want to create a sweet egg-white omelette.) Beat egg whites til those legendary stiff peaks form. Add vanilla, and beat again. Check the bottom of the bowl to make sure you don't have a weepy sea of moisture under those peaks. If so, quickly place bowl in double boiler, heat slightly, stirring constantly, then return to mixer and beat again just enough to mix thoroughly. 

8. Here's where I chilled the frosting and I'm glad I did. It was easier to work with. 20 to 30 minutes should be sufficient, plus it gives the cakes extra time to cool. Lon suggested that I put a crumb layer or crumb guard or some such thing over the first layers but honestly I didn't have the patience for it. (See above comments about near-addiction.) Frost the tops of both cakes, then invert and stack. Frost sides, then top, place on Vivienne Westwood china, then for god's sake, what are you waiting for, slice into it! 

NOTES: If you've read this far I'm not going to strain your eyes any further! This was a marathon entry, and I thank you for reading it. I also thank all of you for putting up with the iPhone photos. I am slowly getting the hang of this blogging thing, and hope to have better quality pics soon!