A Bitchin’ Sangria Recipe

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
3 Lemons
4 Oranges
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
Ginormous pot

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.

Comments

  1. Well this sounds quite tasty if I may say so, except the Better Homes and Gardens cook book – doesn’t that make your sangria a touch stodgy? All that paper in the mix? Or am I doing it wrong? Other than that if it has fruit, triple sec and I can substitute white wine to avoid the killer headache, what is not to like? What?

  2. I was actually in the middle of trying to take a decent iPhone picture of my cleavage but I think I’ll skip that in favor of making a vat of sangria now. Thank you again Elly for helping to point me in the right direction.

  3. oH MY GOD, I should have not taken the vicodin before I saw this recipe. eeehhhh, fuck it. I am going to make it but maybe skip all the apples and peaches and limes and lemons and just get the red wine and triple sec. maybe a little safer. Do I need to blend it? Yes it 1;00 P.M. I am on my holiday and feeling no pain. Yes, no?

  4. FREEBIRD!!! Actually, I vote for “The Ugly Bug Ball” by Burl Ives. Or that song about fireflies that came out earlier this year. Come on, they’re both about BUGS!

    If wine didn’t make me hot (whore-in church hot, not wine-goggle hot) I would have attempted to make some in the office microwave!

    1. Oh shit. Skynyrd actually uses real chords. That was my class song, you know. I need to get to googling if I’m gonna learn a song in 5 days. Yipes.

  5. Almost 35 years ago in an Italian restaurant, I drank the most delicious Sangria I have ever tasted. Nothing since has even come close. But your recipe may just have answered my prayers . . . .

    1. Dudette, I would give my left boob to travel around the world with you and your Rare One. I bet you ladies make for great dinner conversation.

  6. ahem, you meant huge BOX (i.e, franzia) of red wine, right?

    when should i scoot up to hoboken? or you can come down here and we’ll go to amada, jose garces’ spanish tapas restaurant in philly. the sangria is TDF.

    and yes, you will be well and we will be drinking copious amounts of sangria for the next 100 years.

  7. I never heard of cooking the fruit first… you want me to wait half and hour? Are you mad? (Don’t answer that.)

    Can I just add… strawberries! Yeah baby!

  8. Normally I’d say that I need another drink recipe like a vagina hole in the head but once again, I’m swayed by your awesomeness.

    Cheers! (-:

    1. I like it better when people bring me the already prepared food/beverage rather than the stinky old recipe. But I’m too pooped for a road trip at the moment.

  9. I love this recipe except the thumb bleeding part. I might leave that out. On a side note, this is the first sangria recipe I’ve seen that involves cooking. Maybe I just skipped over that part? Too much work? That is entirely possible.

    1. It just sounds like work. It’s easy. Promise. And makes for sweet citrusy, syrupy, goodness. Normally I ignore any recipe with instructions more complicated than “add water.”

  10. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Normally, I’m all hip to make something homemade, but I’m super tired so where can I just buy sangria?!

    Fingers crossed the appointment went well. I need my super sarcastic Elly to make me spit fluid out my nose on a daily basis. I depend upon it. =]

    ♥Spot

    1. I’ll dip my finger in it and we’ll be all set. I was all set to try the mix but then I saw a simple glass of vodka and grapefruit juice and got distracted

  11. I hate these recipes where people are too cool to give you the exact measurement. What exactly is a pinch? And what exactly is ginormous???!!! You can fit Mildred in you mouth so we have settled the fact that you have an unusual sense for sizing. So what you consider to be ginormous is probably like a caldron or something. Good thing I have one for Halloween…

  12. I never get around to the sangria. I drink all the wine while I’m cutting up the fruit.

    But, then it’s fun to make fruit sculptures.

  13. Elly, I like the simplicity of your recipe, but I have to say I make killer sangria, and the key is the brandy.
    Soak fruit at least overnight in the brandy (so that even people who think they’re getting wholesome nutritious fruit get bombed), then pour the whole thing (fruit + brandy, like a mason jar full) in with lots of cheap wine (<$10),a little OJ, maybe some vodka or cointreau or whatever booze is in the kitchen, and a can of sprite.
    the longer the vat sits, the better it tastes, but honestly, nobody cares after the first glass because they're plowed. and there is no burning plastic involved, but you have to plan ahead a little. I've started to add things like canned pineapple and frozen cherries, which reduces the knife-wielding time.

    Maybe we should have a sangria-off. I wouldn't even care whether I won, because I wouldn't know my own name anymore at the end of the night. It would be fabulous.

    1. *slaps you repeatedly in the face with a white glove*

      I accept your challenge! Name the date and location of this epic duel and I shall destroy you with my triple sec!

      Seriously. This sounds like the best party EVER.

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