Herbert broke a string, so I’ve got no uke-ical stylings for you today. I know. You’re destroyed. But I promise I’ll learn something for next week, k? Feel free to make your requests in the comments. (Yes Kelly, I’m working on Iron Man already…)
I have my quarterly date with Aloysius later this afternoon. Nothing says “Happy Friday” like an arm full of needles, I always say. But I know everything will be all good. That’s why I’ve already started planning the rest of my evening. *breathes into paper bag briefly, plasters wide grin on face*
It’s going to involve Sangria. Lots and lots of sangria.
Someone recently asked me for my sangria recipe. Having not made a batch in approximately fourteen eons, I told the poor guy it was straight out of the Better Homes and Gardens Cook Book. But then I got a hankering for a tall cold glass of sangria myself, so I cracked open my checkered cook book. Guess what I learned, boys and girls? I’m a huge liar. That’s a totally different recipe than the one I use. Not that I really use recipes. I find them awfully oppressive. In reality, I usually just make it up.
I wonder if that’s why my report cards always said, “Does not follow directions well.”
Also, that may have something to do with my lack of baking skills.
Focus, Elly. Deep breaths. We were talking about something specific here. Yes! Sangria. Sheesh.
Fearing someone would ask me for the recipe again, I made a point to write down step by step directions when I made a batch o’ my brew for Gwenie’s bridal shower a few weeks ago. In case you’d like to join me with a sangria toast this evening, I’ve included the recipe right here.
(Really, I just want to be cool like Hip Hop Hippie and post a Friday cocktail recipe. Please don’t hurt me, Buffster. Yours is way better.)
Elly’s Bitchin’ Sangria
1 Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook
Some Apples (ideal but not crucial)
1 cup water
3/4 cup-ish sugar
1/4 cup-ish Triple Sec
Huge jug of red wine
Find sangria recipe in Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook. Realize you hate half of those ingredients. Brandy? Who the fuck drinks Brandy? And why on Earth would you cut perfectly good wine with sparkling water when you’re going to serve it on ice anyway? Take giant swig directly from the jug of wine, spilling at least a quarter cup down your new white t-shirt. Mutter obscenities and knock the cookbook to the floor.
Slice lemons and oranges. Cut the shit out of your thumb and bleed profusely. Try to keep majority of the blood off of the freshly sliced citrus. Combine ends (of the fruit, not your fingers) and bulk of lemon slices with water and sugar in the ginormous pot. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Notice too late that the orange mesh bag the fruit came in is now permanently melted onto your burner. Open window to attempt to dissipate the smell of burning plastic. Simmer fruity goodness until you’re overcome by the the syrup’s heavenly scent (assuming you’ve fixed the melted plastic stink issue) and the potion takes on a slight citrus-esque color (5 – 10 minutes-ish).
Remove from heat and allow to cool (at least 30 minutes – no, really – you’ll burn your fingers – ok fine, you can do 10 minutes if you make some sort of ice bath for the pot, but then you’ll warp it and regret it – but after you do it once, the pot is ruined anyway so it won’t be a problem with future batches – on second thought, why the fuck not). Reach in to remove citrus, mushing each slice between your fingers to extract as much citrusy, sugary goodness as humanly possible before discarding.
Add Triple Sec, citrus slices, and apples (if using) to syrup. Then stir in as much wine as you can possibly fit. Consume the wine that doesn’t fit in the pot immediately while your man servant rubs your feet. Chill and serve over ice. In bulk. The wine, not the ice. Unless you really like ice. Then go to fucking town.
Side note: After the first jug of wine is gone, feel free to recycle the used fruit for a second batch of sangria. It won’t be quite as sweet, but after an entire jug of wine, who’s going to notice?
Side side note: Don’t like red wine? You can totally substitute a gallon of Sauvignon Blanc if that’s more your speed. The recipe is almost exactly the same. Just replace the apples with peaches and you’re golden. Man, I am good to you people.