One of my grandmothers was of French descent, and aside from her charming accent and excellent cooking skills, it meant that she was also partial to some items with which as a British child, I was unfamiliar.
Quite often at Christmas someone would give her an immense box which when opened, turned out to contain 5 or 6 marrons glacés, widely spaced and individually wrapped.
Two posts about home-flavoured vodkas in a row may cause you to worry about my alcohol intake, but there’s no need. I’m not actually very fond of alcohol, but it is fun to play with.
In years gone by I used to make sickly experimental vodkas by chopping up chocolate bars, pushing them into a vodka bottle, sealing the whole thing back up and putting it through a dishwasher cycle. They turned out surprisingly well, but you need a confident stomach to drink more than a shot or two.
Way back in sunny July I wrote a post about gooseberries.
Towards the end of the post I mentioned some experimental gooseberry vodka I was making, and promised to update you with the results.
Well…ta-da!
This is my first recipe post, and it isn’t even my recipe! It’s H’s mum T’s creation, but she has kindly allowed me to post about it.
The two blackcurrant bushes in T’s garden have been prolific this year. I have appointed myself as chief picker, and have spent many idle sojourns plucking the darkest fruits while the sun shines.
Blackcurrant fizz is a soft drink which, with a splash of vodka, could be turned into a delicious cocktail. In a stroke of genius, T decided to store her cordial in ice-cube bags, so at a moment’s notice one can enjoy a refreshing zingy drink.
