Ginuary 31st: Death in the Gulf Stream.

Feeling much like a troubled writer myself on waking this morning, I turned to Hemingway’s other hair of the dog.

Death in the Gulf Stream

  • 60ml genever
  • 45ml lime juice
  • 4 dashes angostura bitters
  • 5ml sugar syrup


Take a tall thin water tumbler and fill it with finely cracked ice. Lace this broken debris with 4 good purple splashes of Angostura, add the juice and crushed peel of 1 green lime, and fill the glass almost full with Holland gin… no sugar, no fancying. It’s strong, it’s bitter—but so is English ale strong and bitter, in many cases. We don’t add sugar to ale, and we don’t need sugar in a Death in the Gulf Stream—or at least not more than 1 tsp. Its tartness and its bitterness are its chief charm. It is reviving and refreshing; cools the blood and inspires renewed interest in food, companions and life.



I made so many mistakes here and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I didn’t research the drink well enough—the one recipe I referenced said London Dry was an acceptable substitute. It’s not. I mean, the version of the drink I had today was okay, but this is a genever/Holland gin drink. Another recipe I came across even stipulated Plymouth. This is a genever/Holland gin drink.

I milked three limes to get my 45ml. Did they make limes different in the 1930s? I’m so baffled by poetic recipes and I was even more baffled this morning because of the joy of fuzzy brain. Why would a pick-me-up include a delicate lime peel? I barely survived peeling that. I also added more sugar to the drink because I was a weakling. I ended up using some Monkey 47, which ended up making a pretty swell drink, but it’s still not genever.

The recipe I was referencing also made no reference to cracked ice, and had a short tumbler as the photo reference. Clearly I wasn’t the only one thrown by poetic original recipes. Maybe next time.

What a strange way to end the month. See you in 2015…?

Ginuary 30th: Hedgerow chocolate bar.

Another Tasmania-proud post, is this one. Not an hour’s drive from Hobart is a magical town called Cygnet, and in that magical town are many magical places, and just one of those magical places is Cygneture Chocolates. I was fond of Cygneture before they released their Hedgerow bar last June, featuring McHenry’s sloe gin… but after that happened, I was theirs.


I’m making this post today half because it’s my daily task and half to spite my friend Hannah who is leaving me for an interstate job this weekend and I may never forgive her. We just had an eight-course dinner with matched wines and she seriously doubted I would get through a chocolate bar after that. To be honest, I had my doubts, too. But I am very stubborn and this is a wonderful chocolate bar.

It is also important to note that these two chocolate bars were a gift from my friend Helen, who drove me out to Cygnet and back just so I could buy a bar, which she then accidentally dropped on the ground and smashed up. My friends are both wonderful and terrible and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The last couple of days have been a bit of a friend vomit-fest—sorry.

I am currently halfway through this chocolate bar with seven minutes ’till midnight. I can make it.

Ginuary 29th: Gin & Tonic Popcorn.

I honestly wasn’t sure what I felt like doing for today. Then I checked the mail and found a pouch of Joe & Seph’s gin & tonic popcorn. Today’s gin was suddenly no question.


One of my favourite people in the world brought this back from her recent trip to the UK, just for me. I didn’t ask her to do it—she just saw it and thought of me. I don’t deserve such wonderful friends but gosh I am glad to have them.

“I’ll just have a bit and save the rest for later,” I said to myself, before eating the entire packet.

No regrets.

Ginuary 28th: Velvet View.

Sometimes the idea of a drink gets straight into my soul and I can’t shake it until I’ve made that drink. I got so stuck on this tweet from the Last Word Saloon in Edinburgh, Scotland.


I had the Darnley’s View, I had the Cointreau, I had the almond milk… I needed the pineapple juice. I finally cracked this evening and placed the weird grocery request with a friend who finished work late (“it’s just for a cocktail, I swear, but it’s important“). The Velvet View and I could finally meet.

I feel complete now. Thanks to Jas from the Last Word for sharing the recipe with me after my desperate pleading. The drink was created by Till Britze as a special offer at the Last Word a couple of weeks ago. It’s a little zingy, a little frothy and interesting enough to keep my interest piqued—so I’ll probably be using the last of my Darnley’s View later this evening. Och aye.

Ginuary 27th: Pork Steak with Gin & Coriander Sauce.

About time for a main meal of gin food, what do you say? I couldn’t go past a piece of meat marinated in gin, then pan-fried in gin, with the leftover juice being made into a gin sauce.


My plating skills still need some work.

Recipe here.

This year I’ve gotten into a bit of a habit of abstaining from in-progress photos but they would have gone nicely with a full recipe post tonight. However, as I didn’t take them, I’ve decided not to post the full recipe—but I heartily endorse the above link. Simple* for this kitchen amateur and with a delicious result. Served with a Four Pillars gin, cloudy apple juice and minty ice.

And the best part of cooking the full recipe is that I’ve got leftovers for dinner tomorrow, too.

*Except for the part where I decided to go with the “or set light to it and let the flames burn down” option when I added the gin to the frypan of oil and almost set the kitchen on fire. Nbd though.

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