A few weeks later, it was another student's birthday. Since I made vanilla the first time, I decided on chocolate cake with a Texan flair: Texas Sheet Cake from the Homesick Texan. I left out the chile powder because I wasn't sure how well that would go over. I assumed they would like it because 11 of the 12 students are from Central and South America. But, what if the birthday girl didn't like spicy food?
Really, they can be a tough crowd! We were learning adverbs this week and I was trying to think of an example of an annual event to teach the word "annually." Trying to give a relatable example, I used the World Cup assuming that my students were soccer fans. Plus, I'd walked away from the USA-Ghana game to go teach, so it was the first thing that popped into my mind. "El Copa Mundial!" I said, hoping to get a "VIVA MEXICO!" or "VIVA HONDURAS!" out of someone. Maybe if my argentinos had been there I would have gotten a stronger response; instead, I heard crickets chirping. Then I realized that the World Cup is quadrennial and well, I changed the subject. Thankfully, one of my students threw out "Rodeo." Whew! Since someone was able to give a better example than I was, I knew that they understood the word.
The moral of that story is that I can't make assumptions when it comes to my students. They are adults ranging in age from 25 to 60 with real life experiences. They certainly aren't the caricatures of people used as examples in my high school Spanish textbooks. They don't all love soccer and they probably don't all love spicy food. Instead of chile powder, I went heavy on the cinnamon. "Canela, no?" one of my students asked. "You made this? Wow," said my 60 year-old student, "You can get married."
Where am I going with all of this? I'm getting there. Whenever someone is impressed that I can bake, I tell them that baking is mostly about recipe selection. Baking differs from cooking because, for the most part, you can't taste and add along the way. What you put into your dough or batter and your baking parameters are going to dictate the outcome (well, that and the ambient temperature, humidity, amount of stirring, precision of measurement, etc.). I don't find baking challenging because baking is all about following the recipe. Sure, you can go on to adapt recipes or create your own, but for the novice baker, your goal is to follow the recipe exactly. Maybe that's easier said than done. I'm a scientist, so that's my job. Baking is a lot like chemistry lab (but hopefully only microbiology lab if you're using yeast or starter).
What I do find challenging is mixing drinks. C is a drink-mixing all-star. Really, I think he could make or reproduce anything. And if I mess something up, he can taste it, tweak it, and fix it into something delicious.
For the summer solstice, I wanted to make a summery cocktail. Enter the Rhubarb & Strawberry Collins. I muddled and poured and stirred. Exit a boozy rhubarb milkshake. My highball ended up watered down and lacking flavor. C was on call at the hospital (his last call shift for at least 13 months!!), so it was up to me to do the tweaking and fixing. I tried salvaging it by adding more rhubarb syrup but it wasn't quite right. Inspired by Rhubarb Floats from Not Without Salt, I added ice cream. It wasn't a knock-your-socks-off kind of drink, but I was happy to drink it.
Why rhubarb? I bought a half pound of rhubarb on a whim with the intention of baking. Instead, we (well, C) made it into rhubarb simple syrup. Basically, chop up your rhubarb (we used 3 stalks), add enough water to cover it and add an equal (or half for a longer infusion) portion of sugar, simmer 20-30 minutes until the rhubarb becomes mush and the liquid becomes a syrup, strain, and chill. Save the mushy "compote" for something else and use the syrup for cocktails. There aren't a ton of rhubarb cocktails to choose from, though it's not hard to find a rhubarb version for most of the classic cocktails. It's a little trickier to use than say grapefruit juice because the juice and flavor are in the simple syrup, so balance is key.
Our Rhubarb Cocktail Recommendations:
C's vote: Ginger Rhubarb Bees Knees from The Bonjon Gourmet
Ingredients: muddled ginger, rhubarb syrup, gin, lemon juice, and orange bitters, shaken with ice.
Tweaks: more lemon juice.
Flavor: tart and fruity, like a rhubarb drink should be (according to C).
A's vote: Rhubarb and Rose Ramos from Food52
Ingredients: London dry gin, lemon juice, lime juice, rhubarb syrup, cream, and rosewater, stirred then topped with ice and soda water.
Tweaks: left out the egg white for lack of pasteurized eggs.
Flavor: rhubarb ice cream in drinkable form.
Obviously the quality of the base spirit and liqueurs plays a role, but I think the secret to mixing drinks is the selection of ingredients: pairing flavors and picking up on the subtleties of each component. For example, I used the wrong base spirit when trying to make a melon infusion. I picked an aromatic, herbal gin instead of a milder dry gin, so the juniper and herbs overpower the melon. I suspect the other secret is practice by way of trial-and-error. I'm still a novice drinker let alone drink-mixer. Because I don't drink much and and I don't drink often, I'll probably just stick to baking! Anyway, I already have a resident "mixologist!"
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| My highball attempt. Note the beautiful rhubarb syrup! |





