The only problem with using alcohol to make coffee is the taste of the alcohol itself. The hot fumes and peppery burn that we associate with ethyl-alcohol do not improve the flavour of a coffee; this is the reason I have never found an enjoyable coffee-flavoured vodka.
One centuries-old workaround to preserve the fleeting flavours of the seasons so that they can be enjoyed all year is the liqueur. By adding sugar to an alcohol extraction, we dramatically lessen the effects of alcohol burn. A 40% ABV liqueur will always slip down a little easier than the same-strength spirit with no sugar. Why it works is not entirely clear, but research suggests the calorie-rich sugar – easily identified by the liquid’s viscosity and sweetness – triggers reward mechanisms in our brains, which duly soften the negative effects of alcohol burn. Besides being sweet and tasty, sugar is itself a form a preservative, as jams/jellies demonstrate.
I’ve explored a range of alcohol-extraction methods over the years, from warm to cold, fine to coarse, long to short, and so on. Certainly some success can be found from using the cream siphon cold-brew method that I detail on pages 138–141. But my current preferred method is a hot bloom using water, followed by a long and slow immersion brew in alcohol.
In the US, look out for the Everclear brand (95 per cent ABV); in Europe, Polish New Make Spirit (also known as Polish Pure Spirit) does the trick. Notice that I have broken with my own convention here and put the alcohol quantity just in millilitres (and fluid ounces). This is because as alcohol strength increases the spirit becomes lighter (a litre of pure alcohol weighs less than 80 per cent that of a litre of water). For this recipe, you need to use the correct volume of spirit, regardless of alcohol strength.
The length of time you infuse the coffee should reflect the spirit strength. My recipe uses Everclear, but I suggest a longer infusion if you want to try lower-strength alternatives.
For the coffee, resist the temptation to use anything too lightly roasted as the subtle finesse of green bean characteristics are notoriously difficult to pick out in the finished liqueur.
Drink this liqueur on its own, use to replace the sugar in an espresso martini, drizzle over ice cream, adulterate a latte, serve alongside chocolates or Tequila, or incorporate into a White Russian cocktail.
INGREDIENTS
MAKES APPROXIMATELY 1 LITRE/1¾ PINTS
100 g (100 ml/3½ fl. oz) filter ground espresso coffee (see page 81)
100 ml/3¾ fl. oz hot water
500 ml/17 fl. oz Everclear (95% ABV), or Polish New Make Spirit
300 g/½ cup granulated sugar
200 g (200 ml/6¾ fl. oz) water
1 Add the coffee to a large sealable container, like a Mason jar. Pour the hot water in, allowing it to bloom. After one minute, give the coffee a stir, then pour in the alcohol and stir again.
2 Seal for 12 hours, stirring intermittently. Strain the infusion through a cloth filter a couple of times to remove any particles.
3 Add the sugar and cold water to hit a desirable strength and sweetness, but you should adjust yours based on the spirit you are using.
AFFOGATO
The word affogato means ‘drowned’ or ‘smothered’ in Italian, which neatly sums up the appearance of this dessert-come-drink, as the ice cream slowly sinks beneath a blanket of espresso and its own melted mass. To me, though, this holy matrimony of two of Italy’s greatest exports is a culinary unification the likes of which have not been seen since peanut butter and jelly first hit the scene. It’s difficult to argue the simple allure of an affogato: espresso meets vanilla ice cream; dark and un-diluted meets sweet and light; hot and untempered meets soft and unctuous; volatile and… you get the idea.
As for its origins, those are unclear, but I would hope that the inventors of the drink had the sense to chastise themselves for having not dreamt it up earlier. After all, a world without affogatos (affogati) would be a much greyer place. In any case, the Oxford English Dictionary first cited the word in 1992. I have found references to the affogato in Italian cookbooks and tourism guides from the 1980s, and I even came across an Italian restaurant called Arno’s in Houston, Texas, that was serving ice cream and espresso on their menu back in 1979, but I’m sure the practice was widespread – in Italy at least – some time before that.
There are variations on the theme. Some add grappa or whisky; others use a chocolate or hazelnut sauce. In America it was once popular to top it with whipped cream, too. In my mind you can’t beat the effortless perfection of the classic, though, where the ritual of eating/drinking the affogato becomes marvellous adventure, discovering tiny pockets of what proves to be comparatively bitter espresso, then balancing the taste with the soothing caress of soft vanilla ice cream – each element negating the effect of the previous until they form into a coherent mass of semi-frozen coffee ice cream.
The recipe is a simple as it gets. I would recommend not going too light-roasted with the coffee here, as acidity and brightness prove to be undesirable elements to the piece. The quality of the ice cream, of course, plays a part, but I have found that even the lowliest tub of store-bought frost can be absolved of its crimes with a healthy measure of espresso – in fact, the affogato is perhaps the easiest and best way to pimp an otherwise unremarkable ice cream that there is.
INGREDIENTS
SERVES 1
150 ml/⅔ cup vanilla ice cream
double shot of espresso
Dispense the espresso straight over the top of the ice-cream, or decant into a jug/pitcher and serve alongside while still hot.
COFFEE ICE CREAM
Coffee ice-cream was a favourite of mine as a child, and along with coffee cake, likely formed my earliest tentative steps into the glorious world of coffee flavour. These days I rarely indulge in coffee ice cream anymore – once one becomes a coffee geek, it’s only natural that coffee-flavoured foodstuffs are treated with a high level of scrutiny, too. Sadly, most coffee ice creams are made from some deplorable food concentrate, quietly covered up by generous helpings of sugar, fat and all manner of other ungodly seasonings.
The easy solution is to make your own ice cream: using better-quality coffee will produce better ice cream. In its most basic form, ice cream is made from a mixture of sweetened cream, ice (derived from the water in the cream) and air. When the mixture is chilled below 0°C/32°F, the water in the cream freezes, leaving behind a gloopy mixture of milk fat, milk solids and unfrozen, sugary water. This stuff coats the millions of ice crystals found in a single scoop and also traps air when the ice cream is churned, leading to the soft and creamy consistency that we all pine for.
In addition to controlling the ratios of sugar, fat, water and flavourings in the mix, other variables can be manipulated to produce ice creams of different properties. By incorporating egg yolk and certain gums (hydrocolloids) we can also control the firmness, elasticity, flavour intensity, length of flavour delivery and even propensity to melt.
My coffee ice cream recipe has been born out countless experiments and aims to celebrate the flavour of the coffee by using no egg and slightly less fat and sugar (making it slightly more healthy). By reducing (or in the case of the egg, removing) these ingredients, I am at risk of producing a more sorbet-like product, so the recipe calls for two thickeners – carageenan lambda and Xanthan gum – which will administer a hefty whack of body and viscosity while contributing no flavour at all. These specialist ingredients are widely available online.
INGREDIENTS
MAKES 2 LITRES/2 QUARTS
110 g/generous ½ cup granulated sugar
0.8 g/1/32 oz xanthan gum
1 g/1/32 oz carrageenan (lambda class)
2 g/1/16 oz salt
450 g (450 ml/2 scant cups) whole milk
100 g (100 ml/3½ fl. oz) fresh espresso
50 g (50 ml/3 tablespoons) double/heavy cream
50 g/1¾ oz cocoa butter
1 Blend the first four ingredients into a fine powder.
2 Pour the milk and warm espresso into a food pr
ocessor on low speed.
3 While it is still warm, add the dry ingredients.
4 Mix for a further two minutes, then add the cream and cocoa butter.
5 Churn in an ice-cream maker (see below) following the manufacturer’s instructions.
Note: By far the easiest way to freeze ice cream is to use liquid nitrogen in a freestanding mixer, such as those made by Kitchen Aid. The accelerated speed offered by liquid nitrogen also makes for smaller ice crystals and a smoother, silkier texture to the finished product.
PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE
For most people, the festive period is all about singing carols, sitting around a tree, and eating inordinate quantities of food with the family. For some people, however, winter has gone over and above the normal level of debauchery and developed into a period of wholly sinister activities. Yes, I’m talking about the pumpkin spice latte, popularized by our old friend Starbucks.
‘How can something called a pumpkin spice latte be sinister?’, I hear you ask. After all, here is a drink where the name alone paints a picture of candy canes, bunny rabbits and sickly sweet smiles. Delve into the inner workings of this drink, though, and you’ll find a harrowing tale of high-fructose corn syrup, caramel colourings, condensed milk, liberal helpings of sugar at every available opportunity – over 50 g/2 oz in the ‘Grande’ – synthesized spice flavourings, and to top it off, below-par espresso (I’ll refrain from reprimanding them for lack of physical pumpkin, as the name clearly states that it is ‘pumpkin spice’ one should expect in the taste, not a large orange vegetable).
Little wonder that people line up for these things, though; the classic combination of warm sweetened milk with winter spices, pepped up with caffeine, and you have everything the body needs to survive the perils of late-night gift shopping. It’s true: fundamentally the flavours work well, which is why you can get away with executing the drink in a lazy fashion and it will still be a great crowd-pleaser. Execute it with an eye for detail, authenticity and flair, however, and you have a genuinely fantastic drink in the making. I set myself the challenge of re-inventing this drink with the aim of both improving the flavour (some might say an impossibility) and making it a little more favourable to the waistline.
My recipe is a somewhat modernist take on the PSL, but well worth the effort of sourcing the ingredients and producing the components as, once done, the drink can be turned out en masse or revisited for an individual serve. Much of the espresso character will be kept in check in this drink, but choose a coffee that is fairly dark to bring some roast character into play.
INGREDIENTS
PUMPKIN SPICE SAUCE
MAKES 1 KG/2 BS (ENOUGH FOR AT LEAST 30 SERVINGS)
1.5 kg (1.5 litres/2½ pints) whole milk
40 g/1½ oz star anise
20 g/¾ oz ground ginger
15 g/1 tablespoon ground nutmeg
10 g/2 teaspoons black pepper
10 g/2 teaspoons dried orange peel
100 g/3½ oz egg yolks
500 g/1 lb 2 oz caster/granulated sugar
50 g (50 ml/2 fl. oz) dark rum (optional)
MAPLE AND PUMPKIN WHIPPED CREAM
MAKES 370 G/1½ CUPS
200 g (200 ml/2 scant cups) whipping cream
30 g (30 ml/2 tablespoons) maple syrup
20 g (20 ml/4 teaspoons) pumpkin seed oil
0.3 g/a pinch of xanthan gum
SALTED SPICE MIX
2 g/1/16 oz. ground cinnamon
1 g/4 pinches black pepper
1 g/4 pinches ground mace
1 g/4 pinches ground ginger
0.5 g/2 pinches salt
FOR THE PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE
30 g (30 ml/2 tablespoons) Pumpkin Spice Sauce (see left)
30 g (30 ml/2 tablespoons) fresh espresso
180 g (180 ml/⅔ cup) whole milk
1 Start by preparing the pumpkin spice sauce. Put the milk, the spices and the orange peel in a saucepan and simmer on a low heat for 30 minutes, or until the liquid has reduced by half. Strain and discard the spices. Put the egg yolks into a separate bowl and slowly pour the hot spiced milk in while whisking. Finally, add the sugar to the liquid and whisk until fully dissolved. If you wish, finish with a splash of dark rum for additional richness and to preserve shelf-life. Store in the fridge for up to 10 days (with rum) or five days (without).
2 For the whipped cream, whisk the cream on high speed using a handheld blender and add the syrup, ensuring that it is completely mixed in. Next, add the xanthan gum; then, while still whisking, slowly drizzle in the oil; it should take about a minute. Store the cream in a suitable container in the fridge. Alternatively, if you own a 500 ml/1 pint cream whipper and a nitrogen oxide (N2O) cartridge, transfer the cream to a siphon and leave to rest for 10 minutes, then charge with a N2O cartridge. The cream will keep in the fridge for up to a week.
3 For the spice mix, grind all spices and seasoning together in a spice grinder or blender. Store in a sealed container.
4 Mix the pumpkin spice sauce with the espresso and stir well. Steam the milk and pour into the espresso and pumpkin mix. Carefully spoon on the cream, or if you have one, give your cream whipper a brief shake and dispense on top of the drink. Finish with a dusting of spices.
ESPRESSO MARTINI
In a sense, the martini is to cocktails as the espresso is to coffee. An inconspicuous little package of concentrated flavour, loaded with stimulating effect and wicked intent. So I suppose it was inevitable that these two bastions of psychosomatic alteration should one-day combine forces to become allies in the fight for a good night out.
That particular treaty was signed in the 1980s, when – so the story goes – London bartending legend Dick Bradsell, while working at the Soho Brasserie, combined espresso and vodka for a female patron. The early version of the cocktail was actually called ‘Vodka Espresso’, but as with many of the cocktails invented in the 1980s, it was only a matter of time before it found its way into the iconic martini glass and was renamed ‘Espresso Martini’.
Some versions of this drink include a splash of coffee liqueur – Tia Maria or Kahlúa being the usual suspects – resulting in a corruption of the original Espresso Martini and a later iteration of the drink known as the ‘Pharmaceutical Stimulant’. I would argue that there’s no place for a liqueur in this cocktail; after all, the sugar and espresso components of the cocktail form a pseudo-coffee liqueur anyway. Remember that these off-the-shelf liqueurs are not without their shortcomings when it comes to flavour, either, so if you must, why not make your own (see page 152)?
If you fancy a twist, try swapping the vodka out for aged 100 per cent agave Tequila or rum – Guatemalan rums work particularly well. If using rum you may need to drop the sugar slightly to compensate for the sweetness of the spirit.
For the coffee, I suggest going as light as you dare. A Kenyan one with a nice berry aroma has long been my coffee of choice for this drink.
INGREDIENTS
SERVES 1
30 g (30 ml/2 tablespoons) fresh espresso
50 g (50 ml/2 fl. oz) vodka (I personally like the creaminess of potato-based vodkas in this drink)
10 g (10 ml/2 teaspoons) sugar syrup (or more if you prefer it sweeter), made with a 2:1 ratio of caster/granulated sugar to water, heated until the sugar dissolves.
Add the ingredients to a cocktail shaker filled with ice and shake for at least 10 seconds. Strain into a chilled martini glass.
Note: the classic foam that sits on top of this drink is a result of the carbon dioxide in the espresso forming relatively stable bubbles that are held by the combination of sugar and melanoidins.
CASCARA
It was the team at Square Mile Coffee Roasters in London that first introduced me to cascara, back in 2008. During a brief but rather caffeinated visit to their East End roastery I was offered a glass of cascara as a parting drink. After getting over the surprise of being offered a non-coffee beverage, I duly sipped on the warm rose-coloured liquid. The taste was like a
cross between rose hip, green pepper and watermelon – peculiarly vegetal and yet fruity and sweet at the same time. When I asked them what it was, they told me it was cascara – the dried skin and fruit from the dried coffee cherry.
Traditionally the skin and attached fruit are destined for the compost heap, where they will eventually form a part of excellent fertilizer. But process them in the correct manner and cascara (from the Spanish ‘husk’) makes a pleasant drink capable of carrying through characteristics of the variety and origin of the plant it spawned from.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about drinking cascara is the unprecedented caffeine jolt that it provides. It makes sense, I suppose, since this is a fruit from the coffee tree after all. But on some occasions I have experienced a caffeine buzz from cascara of such a combative nature that it has threatened to suffocate me with nervous paranoia! Recent tests (conducted by none other than Square Mile themselves) showed that cascara actually contains less caffeine than everyone assumed, and less than half that of a typical coffee brew of the same volume.
Regardless of all that, the question still remains, why isn’t cascara more widely consumed? It’s not like there’s a shortage of coffee cherries in the world. Well, it is popular in Bolivia, where it is called sultana. In Yemen the tea is known as qishr and is likely related to the pre-coffee-beverage practice of chewing on coffee cherries (see page 10). The Yemeni cherry is ground down into a much finer powder than the leathery pieces of cascara you can just discern in the teapot, however; plus it is often seasoned with spices, too.
There’s more to just cascara than tea, though. Turn it into a syrup and add soda water for a delightfully refreshing soft drink. Mix it with oats and honey for a delicious caffeine-powered treat. You could even set it into a jelly for coffee-themed parties – everyone has coffee-themed parties, right?
The Curious Barista's Guide to Coffee Page 19