Liqueur

PAT At twenty-one, most people want their first cocktail . . . but when our kids are moving a little too fast, we always say, “Slow your roll or pump your brakes, sister!” So Gina came up with this recipe for frozen mango margaritas, which tastes great as written (for us) or with only a splash of the tequila and Cointreau (for Spenser).

Campari and soda is one of my favorite aperitifs. Not only is Campari a brilliant vermilion that looks stunning in the glass, but also the liquor’s bitter edge whets the appetite for the dishes to come. Transformed into a gorgeous, not-too-sweet sorbet, Campari is equally at home finishing a meal. (Although this sorbet would also make a nice refresher between courses if you were feeling fancy.) The addition of sweet, ruby-hued blood orange juice makes this a perfect dessert for midwinter when summer’s fruits are still months away. Before you freeze your sorbet, I recommend you pour a little into a highball glass and add some ice and gin. It makes the wait so much more enjoyable.

When I first got Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen, I was so inspired by the recipes that I invited people over and made brunch for the first time in years. It was a warm, sunny New Orleans winter day, and I picked satsumas from my backyard tree and made these margaritas to welcome everyone.

This make-ahead dessert is a great choice for dinner parties—the individual servings take very little time to plate and garnish, so you can enjoy yourself while still wowing your dinner guests with an elegant, delicious finale. The recipe’s first step calls for infusing its liquid ingredients with chopped pistachios; though the nuts themselves are later strained and removed, their fresh, delicate sweetness flavors every creamy spoonful of the rich custard. Prepared pistachio paste (available online; see Sources) adds more nuttiness and body.

Though French by definition, these delicate and lemony crêpes are an American tribute, boasting a sweet filling of tart, silky lemon curd and a juicy blueberry compote. The black currant–flavored crème de cassis contributes a sophisticated undercurrent of berry flavor to the compote and enhances its deep purple-blue color. Just as a stack of blueberry pancakes is made that much better by a melting pat of butter, a drizzle of browned butter enhances this dish with its nutty richness.

The classic dessert bananas Foster was created in 1951 by Paul Blangé in New Orleans, Louisiana. It was named for Richard Foster, a friend of Owen Brennan’s who was then the city’s Crime Commission chairman. If you have been fortunate enough to visit New Orleans and eat at Brennan’s, then you know what an incredible dessert bananas Foster is. Sautéed in a buttery, cinnamony caramel sauce and flambéed with dark rum and banana liqueur, bananas are then poured over creamy, rich vanilla ice cream. On the brunch menu at Bar Americain, I take all those yummy components, replacing the ice cream with a slightly tangy crème fraîche whipped cream, and pair them with delicate crêpes. These crêpes are served as an entrée and not a dessert. I can’t think of a better way to start off my weekend.

Nothing says “ta-da!” quite like a soufflé, making it a fitting finale for the most special of meals. With its dramatic presentation (the soufflé is delivered intact, then broken into and sauced tableside), this deep violet soufflé is one of the restaurant’s most popular desserts. Colored and flavored with the essence of sweet and juicy blackberries, the texture of the delicate soufflé is light, airy—practically ethereal. The thick blackberry sauce, much like a crème anglaise, heightens the berry flavor and adds a wealth of richness to the dessert. Lemony whipped cream is the finishing touch.

Pimm’s No. 1 is a gin-based beverage made from dry gin, liqueur, fruit juices, and spices. When combined with club soda or ginger ale and a cucumber spear, it becomes a Pimm’s Cup. Pimm’s No. 1 was created in the mid–eighteenth century by English oyster bar owner James Pimm. The recipe is still a secret; supposedly, only six people know exactly how it is made. It has a dark golden brown color, a medium body, and a taste of quinine, citrus fruits, and spice. Its low alcohol content—only 20 percent—makes it a perfect lunchtime cocktail. The cocktail found its home in the States in New Orleans in the early twentieth century when an anglophile bartender at Napoleon’s put it on their menu. The addition of lemonade distinguishes the American version from the classically British Pimm’s cup.

This is mixologist David Alan’s grownup version of that old college party favorite Long Island Iced Tea. By using premium spirits in small amounts, David creates a balanced drink that isn’t too sweet or too strong, a far cry from the frat boy rendition, where one drink could put you out for the night. David omits the standard sweet-and-sour mix and tops the cocktail with the traditional splash of cola. Incidentally, despite its name, the drink doesn’t contain tea, but when all the ingredients are mixed together it sure looks like it.

Friend and champion mixologist David Alan created two cocktails for our big-city cocktail party, both named for landmarks in Houston, the state’s most populous city. Skyline takes its name from downtown Houston’s Skyline District, famous as the third tallest skyline in the United States. Hermann Park, created in 1914, is a 445-acre urban playground that encompasses an outdoor theater, municipal golf course, Japanese garden, miniature train, and the Houston Zoo.

A sensational ending for a dinner party, cocktail party, or just about any event, these rich cheesecake-like bars always draw sighs of pure delight. The recipe comes from my early days as a caterer in Houston. I think they taste best cold, but no matter how they’re served, they disappear quickly.

I love a dramatic dessert at a cocktail party, but I also want a pick-up dessert that doesn’t need plates and utensils. A deep, dark-chocolate mousse that’s piped onto a choice of two very different kinds of cookies fits the bill. Although I like to make both cookie bases and serve them together, you may want to save a little time by choosing to make only one. (Pictured page 204, center and top.)

Just a few of us hung around the kitchen following a wonderful late-afternoon party at Sarah and Sam Bell Steves’s San Antonio home. Sam’s son, Tres, stopped by and we started talking margaritas. Tres broke out the family’s personalized sterling silver margarita shakers, a pretty good sign that we’d stumbled into in the hands of a margarita-making marvel. We politely asked for seconds—just to make sure. Then we asked for the recipe.

I make batches of these in mini muffin pans, wrap them well, freeze them, and keep them on hand for last-minute parties. What a relief it is to have a dessert ready and waiting for an impromptu dinner. The only problem: I know where they are, and sometimes, especially late at night, I can’t resist unwrapping a few and eating them. (Yup, they’re pretty good frozen.) Before long, my party stash has dissipated, and I have to make some more. (Pictured on page 164, center tray.)