You apologize to your two loyal readers for the scarcity of your recent posts and then you offer restitution:  your original, highly coveted, never-before-unveiled, crowd-pleasing, stress-releasing, taste-bud-teasing AWESOME recipe for homemade Blueberry Ginger Mojitos.  Warning: This drink may change your life.

I know that it’s a little late in the season for most of you to get fresh local blueberries, but practicing with either imported or frozen berries will get you well-trained for next season.

The special ingredient in this mojito recipe is homemade ginger syrup, which replaces the usual simple syrup or sugar.  It’s easy to make, and if you like ginger, you’ll love having a jar of this in your refrigerator.  I’m now in the habit of livening up ice tea with a little shot of sweet ginger.  It also makes a divine addition to a standard fruit salad—along with a little mint.  It can be stored in the refrigerator for up to two weeks or frozen for future use. 

Secret ingredients: fresh blueberry juice and ginger syrup

FRESH BLUEBERRY GINGER MOJITOS

For a single mojito:

Juice from 1/2 of a fresh lime
10-12 fresh spearmint leaves, torn
About 10 fresh (or frozen) whole blueberries
2 oz ginger syrup (see below)
2 oz blueberry juice (see below)
2 oz white rum

Club soda

Drop fresh blueberries one-by-one into the bottom of a 16 oz. glass or mason jar, repeating “kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk” with each blueberry until finished*.  Add the lime juice, mint leaves and ginger syrup.  Muddle with a twisting motion to release the essential oils in the mint and lime.  Fill the glass with ice, add the blueberry juice, the rum, and then top it off with club soda.  Like fresh strawberry mojitos, this is a really refreshing and enjoyable drink in a virgin state as well. 

* Just a little shout out to my favorite children’s book Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey.  Also an incredibly easy way to annoy your husband while picking blueberries.

GINGER SYRUP

2 cups thinly sliced fresh ginger, unpeeled (about ½ lb.)
3 cups water
2 cups sugar

Bring ginger and water to a boil in a medium saucepan.  Stir in sugar until dissolved.  Simmer for 10 minutes, stirring frequently.  Remove from heat and let steep for 20 minutes.  Pour mixture through a sieve, discarding ginger.  Chill.

BLUEBERRY JUICE

Adding a couple of ounces of blueberry juice to this mojito gives it a beautiful deep burgundy color and also ensures that the blueberry flavor isn’t lost among the other flavors of the drink.  I don’t sweeten the blueberry juice because I find there’s enough sweetness from the ginger syrup.

TIP: It's best not to leave simmering ginger or blueberries unattended at any time.

 2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
1 cup water

Combine blueberries and water in a medium saucepan.  Bring to boil and then simmer about 10 minutes until blueberries are soft.  Cool.  Pour mixture through a sieve.  For a clearer juice, subsequently pour through cheese cloth.  Use leftover juice for blueberry martinis, iced tea flavoring, or pure and simple antioxidant shots.

Now, get out a pitcher, multiply this recipe by 5, invite a friend, and meet them in the garden.

I was an impressionable 15-year old when the movie How to Make an American Quilt changed my innocent world forever.

One movie scene with a smoldering hot strawberry farmer seducing Winona Ryder with—you guessed it—a strawberry, instigated my irrepressible lust for the soft curves of this sweet fruit… (and tall, dark, handsome men.)

Oysters need not apply.

Store-bought strawberries in January do little to whet my appetite, but sweet and juicy locally grown strawberries in early June make me weak in the knees.

Three Junes ago, when still living in my own apartment, I bought about 15 strawberry runners from a local farm market and planted them in window boxes on my little patio. 

Doug and I had just started dating, so you can just imagine my delight when I returned from my summer vacation to discover that not only did this courter of mine keep my patio plants alive, but he had built an ingenius space-saving pyramid for my strawberry boxes. 

He must have realized that the way to my heart was through my strawberries.  Smart man.  I deemed him a keeper. 

Those same plants and their offspring are now our strawberries and make their home in a 4’ x 12’ raised bed in our garden.  They are producing an astonishing large harvest for a seemingly small area.  Hallelujah!  (Maybe it was the bunny fertilizer.)

We're getting about 3 quarts of strawberries every couple of days. Our secret? Rich black topsoil and composted horse manure.

I’ve managed to incorporate strawberries into nearly every meal I’ve eaten for the past two weeks.

I’m pretty sure that my dirty blonde hair is now strawberry blonde and the cause of those red-eyes in all my photos is no light reflection phenomenon.  I am the essence of strawberries.

One of my favorite fresh strawberry recipes is, believe it or not, a cocktail.  A fresh strawberry mojito on a sunny June afternoon is like a romance novel in a glass. 

Here’s my recipe for pleasure: 

FRESH STRAWBERRY MOJITO

Juice from 1/2 of a fresh lime
10-12 fresh spearmint leaves, torn
3 fresh voluptuous strawberries
2 teaspoons of fine sugar
2 oz white rum

Club soda

Mojitos in the making

Throw the lime juice, mint, 2 strawberries and sugar into a 12 oz. tumbler glass and muddle with a twisting motion to release the essential oils in the mint and lime.  (Muddling is a fancy bartending term for mushing.  There are real muddling tools, but I just use the handle of a wooden spoon.)  Fill the glass with ice, add the rum, and then top it off with club soda, slices of the remaining strawberry, and a sprig of mint for garnish.  The amount of rum you add can be adjusted for your taste (and your to-do list).  I don’t normally say this, but I find this strawberry mojito to be just as pleasing in a virgin state.  (A virgin mojito may also increase the chances that you’ll return to your garden chores after reaching the bottom of your glass.)

Cheers!

Uhh Oh. My shadow has learned just how tasty strawberries off the vine can be.

I’m serious.  If you’re feeling adventurous (and are confident in your weed ID abilities), I dare you to expand your culinary horizons with some Stinging Nettle Lasagna, Dandelion Fried Rice, Cattail Pollen Pancakes, Japanese Knotweed Sherbet, or some (author-approved) Garlic Mustard Pesto.  

The first time I invited Doug (now my husband) over to my place for dinner I wooed him with my signature macadamia nut encrusted mahi mahi with fresh mango and papaya relish.  Last night, five months into our marriage, I served him weeds.  “I guess the honeymoon is officially over,” he said as I coaxed him into a nibble of my Garlic Mustard Pesto. 

I’ve spent many hours pulling Garlic Mustard on nature preserve properties in Wisconsin and Indiana and was confident in my identification skills and culinary history of the plant.  My husband was not so confident in my confidence.  

When I plopped a basket of young Garlic Mustard leaves on the kitchen counter and proclaimed that dinner would be ready in 30 minutes, Doug looked at me like I was an alien who just invited him to dinner on another planet. 

Then the interview began.  “So what is this?  Are you sure?  And it’s edible?  How do you know?  Are you really sure?”  I answered him with confidence and reminded him that I ate the mushrooms he found in the woods a few weeks prior.

Then the interview got more pointed.  “But have you eaten it before?  Have you at least seen other people eat it?  Are they still alive?  Where did you get the recipe?  What if we’re allergic to this plant?” 

At this point, he began to break my confidence.  The truth was I’d only nibbled on the edge of a leaf once with no ill effects; I’d only heard stories of pioneers using it as a kitchen herb; and I found the recipe on the internet.  He reminded me that he’s been hunting for morel mushroom in the woods of Indiana since he was a kid, morels are a common delicacy, and that’s quite different than me finding a recipe on the internet for some weed that I’ve never even eaten before.

Okay, good point. 

I still made my greatly anticipated Garlic Mustard Pesto, but served it only as an appetizer, spread over toasted baguette slices.  I also agreed to eat some first and wait 30 minutes to make sure I didn’t slip into anaphylactic shock before subjecting my him to it too.  If we lived to see tomorrow’s dinner, then I would make the pasta dish as planned.

Garlic Mustard is an exotic weed species introduced by early European settlers in the 1800s for its medicinal and culinary properties.  The cool-season biennial is now widely distributed throughout the northern and Midwestern U.S. and continues to invade new regions.  Most commonly found in upland and floodplain forests, Garlic Mustard spreads aggressively and can displace most native woodland wildflowers within a short period of time.

Although most commonly seen in shady forested understorys, Garlic Mustard can also be found in savannas, backyards, along roadsides, and occasionally in full sun… like in my own young sunny prairie.

Last summer I talked my husband into converting ½ acre of our lawn into a native wildflower prairie.  I had visions of spending my evenings sitting in my Adirondack chair with a glass of wine watching the birds and the butterflies dance in the prairie below.  In reality, I spend my evenings doubled over with a weeding fork, yanking out Garlic Mustard (and about 14 other invasive, spiny, stinging, rash-inducing weeds) that have taken up residence in our prairie instead. 

I try not to think about the scale of the problem because it’s depressing.  Each garlic mustard plant produces hundreds of seeds that are viable for up to seven years.  So even if I successfully pull every single Garlic Mustard plant on my property (a seemingly impossible task), I will have to do so every year for the next seven years to make a real difference.  Talk about a commitment. 

Being able to EAT this weed is its one redeeming quality.   It felt good to get the last word. 

This is the recipe I followed that was posted here on the The Mid-Atlantic Exotic Pest Plant Council (MA-EPPC) website:

GARLIC MUSTARD PESTO

3 cups garlic mustard leaves, washed, patted dry, & packed in measuring cup
2 large garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 cup walnuts
1 cup olive oil
1 cup grated parmesan cheese
¼ cup grated Romano cheese (or just use more parmesan)
Salt & pepper to taste

Combine garlic mustard leaves, garlic and walnuts in a food processor and chop.  Or you can divide the recipe in a half and use a blender.  With motor running, add olive oil  slowly.  Shut off motor.  Add cheese, salt & pepper, and process briefly to combine.  Scrape into refrigerator container and cover.  It can be frozen, although the garlic taste will diminish in the freezer.

This makes 2 cups, enough to use as sauce for 2 lbs. of pasta.  It’s good on crackers as an appetizer.   It is also super on baked fish.  Just spread some on your filets before you bake them.  Yum!

If you make this pesto with basil as it is usually made, use 3 cups of basil leaves and 4 cloves of garlic.

My review:  I liked it and will continue to use the leftovers in the freezer until my new crop of Basil is ready.  I’m a huge fan of Basil Pesto and this Garlic Mustard pesto was admittedly second best, but it’s nice to know that there’s an inexpensive and prolific Plan B for when my winter supply of Basil Pesto runs out in early spring.

Here’s what the anonymous reviewer had to say about eating weeds for dinner:

I’m really curious about the Stinging Nettle Lasagna, but think I need to rebuild my husband’s culinary trust first.   Anyone else feeling adventurous?

Fresh Rhubarb - From my garden to my martini glass - In just two hours

Even if you don’t particularly feel like a cocktail, if you commit the time needed to prepare the Rhubarb Martini, trust me, you’ll want a drink.  In hindsight, I wish I had doubled, maybe even tripled the recipe.

Before I start complaining, I need to offer some hope and inspiration by saying that this is a truly outstanding martini.  If you’re a fan of both rhubarb and vodka martinis, investing yourself in this laborious recipe will be worth it.

If you’re not appreciative of the palatable complexity of rhubarb then don’t waste a perfectly good afternoon juicing rhubarb.  Welding your own paperclips would be time better spent.

Lucky for me, I am a big rhubarb fan.  I appreciate its unique, intricate, tart flavor, for which there is no acceptable understudy.  I love the sound a serrated knife makes when slicing through juicy rhubarb stems and the bright, tangy aroma that disperses. Rhubarb holds a special place in my heart, being the first spring harvest that I can measure in pounds rather than ounces.  Above all, Rhubarb evokes more nostalgia for my childhood and my family than anything else growing in my garden.  A sweet rhubarb dessert always has lots of company.

Rhubarb reminds me of my grandmother and the wonderful rhubarb tapioca pudding that she made by the gallon when family descended upon her Maine homestead during the summer months.

Rhubarb reminds me of my Mom and how I missed being her little shadow in the vegetable garden after her and my Dad separated when I was nine.  Her garden quickly reverted to a hay field, but that rhubarb hung on in the same spot for years.  She gave me many sweet rhubarb pies even when she wasn’t there.

Rhubarb reminds me of my (purportedly plant-savvy) sister and what she didn’t have when making a pie the first spring in her new house.  A homemade pie crust, 50 minutes, and two slices later, she came to the realization that the large coarse-leafed plant in her new garden was in fact burdock and not rhubarb.  I’m still giggling.

I’m on a mission this season to transform as many garden products as I can into original cocktail recipes.  I had never heard of a rhubarb cocktail, but decided I was up for the challenge.  (A google search proved that it could be, and had been done.) Wanting to honor its complex, tart flavor, a simple martini seemed like the perfect direction to head. 

THE RECIPE:
Prep Time:  About 2 long thirsty hours.  Makes only 2 – 6.5 ounce martinis.  Seriously.

STEP ONE:  MAKE RHUBARB JUICE
Combine 3 cups of sliced fresh rhubarb stalks and 1 cup of water in a covered saucepan.  Boil for about 1 hour, or until mushy and ugly.  Drain off the liquid through a fine strainer or cheese cloth.  Pray for at least 6 ounces of juice.  Add sugar to sweeten to your taste.  I recommend about 3 tablespoons, which will still leave the juice surprisingly tart.  Cool completely.

STEP TWO:  MIX THE MARTINI
1 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice
6 ounces rhubarb juice
6 ounces Grey Goose Vodka
Combine in a martini shaker with ice, pour into chilled martini glasses, and enjoy.

The flavor is delicate and subtle so don’t expect this to taste like rhubarb pie in a glass.  A good vodka is essential so that it doesn’t overpower the flavor of the rhubarb.

I also tried a Strawberry Rhubarb Martini substituting one ounce of the rhubarb juice for one ounce of fresh squeezed strawberry juice (an even bigger pain to extract than the rhubarb).  Though still tasty, the strawberry flavor completely overshadowed the rhubarb.  I think that in order to truly appreciate the rhubarb martini, the rhubarb needs to stand alone.

This anonymous reviewer gave the Rhubarb Martini two thumbs up

My husband, a devoted beer drinker, gave his approval so I’m deeming the Rhubarb Martini a success.  If any of the three people still reading this blog have enough time on their hands to try this recipe for themselves, please offer up some feedback and other ideas!  Jenny, you can let us know how the burdock martini turns out.

Tangerine Margaritas with fresh squeezed tangerine and lime juices, Cointreau, and Sauza Conmemorativo Tequila.

Fruit-inspired margaritas have divine potential when made with fresh ingredients and top quality liquor.  Unfortunately, they can be hard to come by at your average bar or restaurant.  Nine times out of ten, you’ll get little more than a colorful glass of high fructose corn syrup, a hint of nail polish remover, and a long lasting stomache ache.  This here recipe is one good reason to stay home tonight and treat yourself to what a real fruit margarita should be.  Light, tangy, refreshing, and so rich in vitamin C and antioxidants, you can even call it healthy! 

 THE RECIPE:

Fills two ice-filled jumbo margarita glasses

1 cup fresh-squeezed tangerine juice (about 3 ½ medium tangerines – save the remaining ½ for garnish)

½ cup fresh-squeezed lime juice (about 4 ½ small limes – again, save the remaining ½ for garnish)

¼ cup Cointreau

½ cup Sauza Commemorativo Tequila

Juice your fruit using whatever means available to you.  Combine all liquids with some ice in a martini shaker or a wide-mouth nalgene bottle with an easy-sipper lid.  Shake vigorously.  Pour into ice-filled, salted margarita glasses.  Garnish and fall in love again!

 BARETENDER TIPS: 

The quality of your liquor will make or break a fresh mixed drink.  It can also be the difference between skipping off to bed with your lover versus curling up on the couch with Letterman and a bottle of tums.  Jose Cuervo and Triple Sec are NOT substitutes for Sauza and Cointreau.  Although the initial investment in a good bottle of booze can be steep, you’ll quickly realize that a.) it’s worth your pleasure, and b.) drinking top-shelf at home is cheaper than drinking the rail at any bar.  These (note: fabulous!) margaritas cost me exactly $5.21 each to make at home.  It’s tough to find a $5.00 margarita these days, and I’d say virtually impossible to get one with fresh squeezed tangerine and lime juice and top shelf liquor. 

THE INSPIRATION:

Evidently, there are people out there making mega mula while the rest of us struggle just to sport a smile this weekend and keep our economic anxieties at bay.

So what’s the secret? 

Alcoholic libations. 

Invest in them if you want to get rich; consume them if you want a temporary feeling of economic apathy. 

FACT:  There are 332 fewer billionaries in the world this year according to Forbes Magazine.

Upon hearing the news on NPR this morning, I offered a sarcastic “aaaawwww” for all the billionaries turned multi-millionaries (poor things) and the $18 billion in pocket change that Bill Gates reportedly lost.  I was, however, legitimately curious about the 38 new billionaires to make the list for the first time this year.

One such new billionaire is John Paul DeJoria, owner of Patron Tequila and Paul Mitchell shampoos, proving that liquor is not something we are willing to do without in the midst of a recession.  (Along with that weightless boost of volume???)

While squeezing out the final few hours of my work week, my mind kept thinking about good tequila and in-season citrus.  A few google searches later, and the Tangerine Margarita concept was born. 

So I planned a cheap evening at home with my hubby, drank like a rich lady, and by gosh, I’m still smiling.