Bourbon Slush

Thanksgiving is around the corner.  There are all sorts of tasty dishes that come to mind, but first, and foremost in my swirling little brain is Bourbon Slush.    It just wouldn't be Thanksgiving in my family without the potent potable!  I guess it's something my Mom started, maybe in an effort to get through the holiday.  You know, a little slush here, a little slush there, in between stuffing the bird and baking the pies.  Add in a little family drama, and....yeah...I'm sure it made Thanksgiving a little less stressful.   I'm not much of a liquor drinker...regurgitated enough of that in college...but at Thanksgiving I do become a bourbon lush from Mom's Bourbon Slush.

 Bourbon Slush

32. oz bourbon

33oz. club soda

2 cans frozen lemonade

1 can frozen orange juice

          Stir ingredients together in bowl (duh). 
Freeze overnight, stirring every once in a while.

Now you don't have to get up in the middle of the night to stir it, but do give it a good stir before bed and again when you wake up.  You're wanting a slushy consistency.  Not a frozen block.

Now I might add that you'll want to keep a little extra club soda on hand.  This can be a little strong for some folks.  You may want to dilute it down a bit.  Now my dad and I--we can take it--no need for extra club soda.  Being Kentuckians, we can handle our bourbon......well....except for that one year....

Personally, I think Mom tipped a little more than 32oz of bourbon from the bottle.  She did buy the economy sized bottle.  Maybe it was just an exceptionally good batch.  I don't know.  I do know that I got my workout in running up and down the stairs, to the deep freeze, to refill our slushes.  I also know, and am willing to admit, that well before dinner I was certifiably drunk.  Dear old dad, too, whether he'd admit it or not.  I was then a worthless helper to my poor mother, slaving over the holiday meal.  Herself, having barely a swallow of bourbon slush because her greedy husband and daughter drank it all.  Fortunately, I was in too much of a stupor to fully appreciate her wrath.  I was having me a good time--drinking slush with my daddy.

So....just beware...it's potent, but oh so good!  Maybe you'll want to give it a try and make it your next Thanksgiving tradition, like it is in my family.  Turkey and Bourbon...only a Kentucky girl.....

Bourbon Whiskey

Nothing Like a Good Omelet

I've never been very good at making omelets.  I just can't seemed to get the knack of flipping without creating a god-awful mess on the stove.  Nothing can kill the appetite quicker than the smell of burning eggs on a stove top.  Ick!  So, even when I start trying to make an omelet,  I just end up with scrambled eggs.  Glad I have a husband who worked as a short order cook for a stint in his youth.  He satisfies my omelet cravings.

He wasn't around the other day when my daughter asked for an omelet.  "Oh honey," I begged off, "I'm not very good at omelets.  How 'bout some scrambled eggs?"

"Can't you just try?"  Ah, she got me.  Throwing my own words back at me.
What kind of example would I be if I didn't try?  I'm not fond of being a hypocrite.  I will try.

So I beat up the eggs, a little milk, salt pepper.  I pour the mix into the pan--working my omelet.  Working it, working it.  Hummm...what do you know.  It's definitely flippable, so I give it a go!  O-M-G!  It worked.  I made an omelet that didn't look like scrambled eggs.
Super Mom!!!!

The very next day my daughters asks, "Can you make that thing you did yesterday, in a different position?"  Huh?  Different position?  "Yeah, like folded over, not scrambled."

Okay...strange child....

But, I conquered the omelet once, surely I can do it again.  I work it, work it.  Uh....no.  How 'bout some scrambled?
The 'good' omelet was obviously the exception to the rule.  Sigh!

I talked to my brother a while later and mentioned the omelet--the omelet that did end up in a different position--scrambled.  Once a serious picky eater, my brother has expanded his culinary horizons and in the process has become a pretty darn good cook.  So I'm lamenting to him about my omelet.  I can't flip.  That doesn't work for me.  Blah, blah, blah.

He then tells me:  "I have a trick for a great omelet with no flipping."

Tricks?  I love tricks, so I listened raptly as he explained....

Once you get the omelet to the point where you could flip it, you know, where it's still gooey on the top, a little runny...well, stick it under the broiler for a minute or two.  The top cooks, and cheese (if added) melts.  It's then easy to flip...voila.....a perfect omelet.  I also  made an interesting observation--in addition to cooking, the omelet also 'puffed' up and became fluffy!  My daughter praised me for the best omelet ever.

So there's the trick...finish the omelet off in the broiler, just make sure you're using an oven safe pan.

Chicken and Dumplings

We need food to survive.  Not only for our physical well-being, but mental, as well.  Food serves as a portal to our memories--the basis on which we build our lives, memories of events that shaped us.   Food shapes so much more than just the physical self!  The smell of food triggers the memories.  The taste can take us back to joyful events!   Food is an amazing thing--and preparing it is an art, whether it be fine art or rustic, cooking is an art that can be developed.

My Mom is an amazing cook.  Not fine dining fancy, but certainly satisfying the fancy of her family's appetite.  She learned by her mother's side, as did I.  And like me, Mom put her own stamp on family meals.  Mom has a great recipe for Chicken and Dumplings.  I loved coming home from school to the smell of the chicken stock reducing.  It's a true homemade recipe.  She wanted chicken and dumplings, but had never made it, so she just started throwing things together that seemed right.  Seems she was right!


My recipe card is quite stained--an indication of how good a recipe is.  I actually don't even use the card anymore.  Chicken and Dumplings is permanently in my brain.

My favorite 'Mom Recipes' are written in my scratchy script, dictated to me over the phone onto a 3X5 index card.   As she gave me the recipes, it would lead into one story or another, we'd end up laughing or crying, whatever the case may be.  Even sharing recipes triggers memories.

So....I call her own the phone.

Me:  Hi Mom.  What are you doing?
Her:  Oh nothing, just sitting here working on a baby blanket.  (she's crafty as well as a good cook)
Me:  Well, I was wondering, could you tell me how to make chicken and dumplings?
Her:  Oh well that's easy......

 

First you steam chicken in small amount of water until tender.  Take the chicken out of the pot and let it cool so you can put it apart.  To your water add carrots, celery, onion, salt and pepper.  Let that simmer for a while and put the chicken back in the pot.  For gravy, add flour, milk, salt and pepper and pour that in.  When all that boils, add the dumplings.  Then you just cook them until they are done.


That's it?   Uh.....really?  A million questions ensued.  How much salt, pepper, water?  How much onion, potato carrots?  Do you just dump the flour in?  What??  I'm thinking this is quite vague.

"Oh, just how ever much you think you'll need" or "Until it tastes good" were her replies.  Oh-kay...

Ummm.....not so helpful, or so I thought.  But that is how I learned to make chicken and dumplings and many other good tasting foods.  I learned to taste recipes, make sure they were well-seasoned, as Chef Ramsey would say.  Mom gave me the basics and I developed from there. 

Oh, I should add....the secret to the dumplings--refrigerator biscuits, pinched apart.  The flour Mom always shook out separately with the milk, then poured it into the bubbling broth. OH...OH...the other most important part.....reduce your stock after you take the chicken out, and before you put it back in.  That's where you get the flavor, reducing that stock!

I always found it funny that Mom developed her own Chicken and Dumpling recipe.  While giving me the recipe I learned that my mom doesn't even like chicken.  She'll eat it if she has to, but it's never a first choice.  Seems she grew up near a poultry processing plant.    I think it gave her chicken issues.

The End