Category Archives: Liquor

Etude de Elderflower

“We’ll need paper bags and vodka.”

A lot could be guessed from that statement but probably not the reality: a friend and I were going foraging for elderflowers.

Though I missed dandelion season this year, I did finally got around to making nettle beer for the first time and, well, if you’re into seasonality your heart likely leapt more than a bit when you read that. It’s hard to explain to those who aren’t.

In the Midwest, elderflowers follow nettles. They’ll go into cordial and wine and syrup, rather than beer. And elderflower foraging, to make said cordials, wine and syrup, it seemed needed paper bags and vodka, to be transported home from Michigan.

The paper bags is for toting them in a dry, airy environment so they don’t glob up from moisture. The vodka is for stuffing a canning jar full of flowers and vodka so the steeping can begin post haste after the flower picking.

My friend and I set off from Chicago at 7:30 a.m. on a beautiful late June day to drive to my friend Seedling Pete’s farm. Pete, it seems, has planted elderflowers on his farm but more importantly, knows an old-timer named Fritz who could show us where to forage elderflowers from the side of county roads.

Elderflowers and their resulting berries, are fascinating and, seemingly, ubiquitous, once you get to know them. We foraged around the remote farmy areas of southern Michigan before driving home, and noticing pockets of elderflowers growing all along the expressway to Chicago — and even in Chicago proper, here and there.

Called “nature’s pharmacy,” it is amazing to learn what they can cure. And even more amazing to realize that they aren’t planted, as a home pharmacy, in every yard in America. In fact, in America at least, they are considered a weed to be eradicated, despite their knee-bucklingly awesome curative powers, reported best by Wikipedia:

Black elderberry has been used medicinally for hundreds of years.[5][6] Sambucus nigra L. may be an effective treatment for H1N1 flu.[7] A 1995 study found: “A complete cure was achieved within 2 to 3 days in nearly 90% of the SAM-treated group and within at least 6 days in the placebo group (p < 0.001). No satisfactory medication to cure influenza type A and B is available. Considering the efficacy of the extract in vitro on all strains of influenza virus tested, the clinical results, its low cost, and absence of side-effects, this preparation could offer a possibility for safe treatment for influenza A and B.”[8] A small study published in 2004 showed that 93% of flu patients given elderberry extract were completely symptom-free within two days; those taking a placebo recovered in about six days.[9][10] A 2009 study found that the H1N1 inhibition activities of the elderberry flavonoids compare favorably to the known anti-influenza activities of Oseltamivir (Tamiflu) and Amantadine.[11] A 2004 study found that symptoms of influenza A and B virus infections were relieved on average 4 days earlier and use of rescue medication was significantly less in those receiving elderberry extract compared with placebo. The study stated, “Elderberry extract seems to offer an efficient, safe and cost-effective treatment for influenza. These findings need to be confirmed in a larger study”.[12]

A 2001 study entitled “The effect of Sambucol, a black elderberry-based, natural product, on the production of human cytokines: I. Inflammatory cytokines” concluded: “We conclude from this study that, in addition to its antiviral properties, Sambucol Elderberry Extract and its formulations activate the healthy immune system by increasing inflammatory cytokine production. Sambucol might therefore be beneficial to the immune system activation and in the inflammatory process in healthy individuals or in patients with various diseases. Sambucol could also have an immunoprotective or immunostimulatory effect when administered to cancer or AIDS patients, in conjunction with chemotherapeutic or other treatments. In view of the increasing popularity of botanical supplements, such studies and investigations in vitro, in vivo and in clinical trials need to be developed.”[10]

They can cure H1N1! for the love of all things holy! And can help cancer patients and AIDS patients! Why in God’s name are we all rushing around trying to eat the exotic goji berry, drink Kumbucha and shoving all manner of drugs down our gullets when we can cultivate the mother of all curative plants in our own yards?

Yes, in case you were wondering, I am making room for a few plants in my front yard.  I’m getting them from Hartmann Plant Company, where Seedling Pete got his plants.

And with the fragrant foraging haul,  I made some luscious bevvies:

Elderflower wine, made by soaking a handful of flowers in Target box ‘o wine for two weeks. Make sure if you make it, you strip off every bit of green from the flowers as they make the resulting wine a bit stemmy tasting.

Elderflower liquor, which I am attempting to turn into St. Germain liquor.

Elderflower syrup, which I made by making a standard sugar syrup, adding sliced lemon and letting it stand for a few days on the counter before straining and bottling for homemade soda.

I plan on returning to the foraging ground in the fall, when Pete tells me the berries are ripe on the trees, and making some of the magical black berry elixir. If you get sick next winter, I’ll bring you some.

Homemade Vermouth

Toby Maloney once told me that, as he saw it, I likely didn’t understand vermouth because I had likely only had crappy old vermouth. Vermouth, he said, is sensitive and has a short shelf life that shouldn’t be trifled with.  I’ll admit I was dubious, vermouth being basically fortified wine and fortified wines being made specifically for the purpose of sitting on a colonial boat for something around ever while it travels around the earth, then believed to be flat.

But that was until I tasted my own homemade vermouth, fresh as a daisy in spring.  And it was then that I remembered that the other thing that traveled around on those boats was hard tack. Not delicious.

Vermouth, you should know, originated as a way of recovering bad wine. And, in fact, you could likely use bad wine to make your vermouth.  I sorta did.  But not on purpose, only because I tend to drink that wine in a box from Target, which I started doing when I was super crazy broke a while ago and since I am still super crazy broke I still do.

Homemade vermouth can really be considered a gateway to homemade bitters.  And since it is a ton easier, it can also be considered a replacement for the laborious effort of homemade bitters, which I imagine you’d only do if you were really into cocktails more than just the kind of creatively delicious cheap drinkin’ I tend to go for.

First thing first with homemade vermouth is to get a bottle (or box) of wine and add in some eau de vie.  In fact, if you have eau de vie, you will likely find making your own vermouth to be an awesome way to use that eau de vie, since my bet is that you, like me, don’t actually ever figure out how to drink the stuff in any kind of quantity.

Next, you add in the herbs and spices by heating them with some of the wine. I added ginger powder, elderflowers, lime peel, a vanilla pod and some gentian.  I let it steep for a week then strained it. I made the ginger powder from dried ginger, which I highly recommend, and elder flowers from elderflowers I foraged and dried. Lime peel can be dried too, and stored like you would any herb.  Vanilla pods are just that and gentian can be ordered from Amazon, like everything else, but I have a lot left over if you need some and live nearby.

I make my vermouth in smallish quantities store it in the fridge, like Toby taught me.  I drink it with really good gin from Leopold Brothers. Rocks — as in on the rocks. But yes, it (also) rocks.

I am not really much of a martini drinker, but I think maybe part of that is that I tend to like a vermouth-y martini, and a dirty one as well, and most of the vermouth I’ve had in my life before making my own sucked, or likely sucked.

But now I can make my own, magically turning Target Box-o-wine into a special deliciousness that makes me feel like I just might be a martini drinker after all.

Homemade Campari

There are few things in life that haven’t been memorialized by Google. Homemade Campari seems to be one of them.

I happen to love Campari and so, like everything else, I wanted to make my own.

There is a short string here on Chowhound boards. Save the trouble clicking, no one has mastered it. The New York Times D.I.Y. Cooking Handbook has a orange wine thing that they claim is a bit of a homemade Campari.  It is OK, it is not homemade Campari. It is a homemade wine cooler, which is serviceable in its own right and makes you think Bartles & Jaymes at least started with a decent idea.

The most instructive is a Savuer post that hints at some core ingredients — alcohol, sugar syrup, distilled water, orange (likely bitter Sevilles), rhubarb, ginsing.  And there are a mysterious number of mysterious herbs. The post goes on to describe the making:

Its dry ingredients are soaked in water for two days, mixed with alcohol and more water, and steeped in huge vats for 15 days. The color of the brew at the end of this period is brown, and the taste is bitter—really bitter, as in undrinkable. The liquid is then drained off into blending tanks and the macerated dregs are pressed for more juice, like a tea bag; the soggy remains are boiled to distill more alcohol. Finally, the sweetening syrup and the coloring—from cochineal dye (a commonly used colorant made from the dried bodies of cochineal insects)—are added.

This is what I did:

Make the requisite wine cooler from the New York Times, sorta following the recipe in the best way I know, which is to get the gist and then move on.

I then took rhubarb syrup I made last Spring and heated it.  To that I added a pile of fresh grated ginsing, fresh ginger root slices, cardamom, pepper, two star anise mostly intact, some broken cinnamon stick bits and removed from the heat.  I left it to sit at room temperature two days.  Then I dumped it into the New York Times wine cooler.

It was pretty good with setzler.

But since this was the first go, I decided to do some more research and found this post.

Although the recipe indicates that you add it all into the alcohol, macerate and filter, when I first made homemade root beer, I discovered that no beverage with strange roots should ever be made by dumping it all together and then waiting to taste the results.

Homemade root beer often contains Spikenard Root, which really must be the worst flavor known to man.  Having not actually tasted angelica root, gentian or calamus root on their own, I opted to macerate each on its own and blend the result.

So, I had a few jars working:  orange peel, cinnamon, aniseed and cloves in one, with 350 ml alcohol.  Then, angelica root in 50 ml alcohol, gentian root in 100ml and calamus root in 100 ml.   I likely could have done the math to really get scientific but clearly that would have been out of character.

After 10 days, I tasted each and then decided to strain the gentian root and leave the angelica and calamus root to macerate another 10 days.  Then I filtered, dumped in the extra alcohol and red wine and I’m not letting it sit downstairs.

I tasted it, and while I am quite sure it is going to evolve over time, I think it needs more orange, possibly whole dried oranges or may a mix of orange, lemon and lime that somehow attempts to approximate the bitter Sevilles.   I also think I am going to add back in that rhubarb. So, I bought a bunch at the market, turned it into juice and put it in the freezer for whenever I get around to making my next batch.


Angelica root has some sort of ancient secret power to ward off pestilence, though I am not sure if the ancients were pestilented by the Stink Bug so if that is your pestilence, I can’t guarantee that drowning yourself in homemade campari will be a solution.

Gentian root is used in a lot of specialty cocktail condiments these days, specifically in bitters. So if you are going to get into homemade booze, it is a good purchase at a pound.  Though it will likely last you the rest of your life.

Calamus root may or may not be a psychotropic drug.  That’s all I’ve got to say about that.  Well, I guess I’d also suggest getting some now before the temperance union finds out and campaigns to ban it.

From Canada, with love

This week, my gallon of maple syrup arrived from Spence Farm, with whom I have a make-your-own CSA-y arrangement set up thing — That’s the official name for it.

I made a few bottles of Maple-Rye booze with it.  A Canadian tradition, Maple-Rye booze is made from equal parts Maple and good rye whiskey.  My rye of choice is Redemption Rye from Indiana, a classic straight American rye whiskey made with 95% rye grain.  They hand mark each bottle and I am using Batch # 15, bottle #1414.

To make this booze, you mix the two together, equal parts, put it in the fridge and try to remember to shake it every day for a few weeks. Boom, it’s done.

And when the cold spring rains come, because they do, drinking this elixir makes me very, very happy.