Rum

Banana pudding is such a Southern classic that I knew I had to include a recipe for it. At the same time, I wanted to give it a bit of a modern twist, and that’s how I came up with Banana Pudding Sliders. You have to learn the rules before you can break them, so here’s my favorite recipe for classic banana pudding—spiked with rum, layered with bananas and vanilla wafers, and crowned with meringue—followed by those sliders I dreamed up.

Filled with Caribbean flavors, this dinner is made to be enjoyed outdoors. You will need twelve metal or wooden skewers. To keep them from scorching on the grill, soak wooden skewers in water while preparing the ingredients.

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.

Chocolate cream pie has a place of honor in roadside diner pie cases across the country. This deconstructed version inverts the classic format because the gorgeous, silky, deeply chocolaty pudding is worth digging for. Break though a crunchy, buttery graham cracker crust and a smooth layer of whipped cream before making your way to the rich chocolate depths of this decadent “pie.” Chocolate lovers, rejoice.

What could be more American than a pot of baked beans? From “Beantown’s” own Boston baked beans to one of the South’s favorite sides for a plate of barbecue, baked beans are an integral part of our culinary heritage. Molasses is a traditional ingredient here; its dark, rich flavor and thick texture give the dish its characteristic sweetness and consistency. I use a little less than most folks and supplement it with a generous dose of honey to mellow it out and allow the rest of the flavorings—dark rum and barbecue sauce among them—to shine. My southwestern culinary leanings are what prompt me to use black beans. I like their somewhat firm texture, but you could certainly use traditional navy beans if you’d prefer. The fat and smoky flavor of bacon is essential. Double-smoked bacon gives you even more of that amazing taste.

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.

The fading sun, an ocean breeze, a pitcher of mojitos waiting in the fridge. Open the door, fill the ice bucket, and let the party begin. Invented in Cuba and beloved by many, the rum-based mojito is an inherently festive drink. Friend and colleague cocktail specialist David Alan has created this refreshing watermelon mojito and thoughtfully devised a shortcut to reduce the workload for even the most laid-back party throwers. Preparing the base drink ahead makes it easy to crank out drinks quickly. Adding the club soda at the last minute ensures that all drinks retain the proper level of fizz. So before you set out for the beach, muddle the mint leaves, lime juice, sweetener, and rum in a large pitcher. Stow it in the refrigerator along with several bottles of soda water and a bowl of peeled, seeded, and chunk-up watermelon. Leave a dozen or so eight-ounce Collins glasses on the kitchen counter and when you arrive home with your friends—dazzled and thirsty from a day in the sun—chilly, refreshing mojitos are just moments away.

I placed this dish in the dessert chapter, but it’s so filling it might be best thought of as a brunch dish, or perhaps dessert-for-dinner. Adding sweetened bread crumbs to the preparation makes a French toast with extra crunch and a dark exterior, a nice contrast to the light, moist interior. I’ve turned the French custard toward the tropics by using coconut milk, and taken the topping to New Orleans with the classic combination of bananas, butter, rum, and pecans. Any other seasonal fruit can work: sliced apples or peaches sautéed in butter, fresh berries, or, when the fruit bowl is empty, your favorite jam.

Rum is distilled from various sweet products of sugarcane. Playing off rum’s sweet origins, a touch of citrusy-sweet chocolate adds intrigue to the strident heat of the alcohol, and a touch of salt unifies everything in a rush of flavor that would make Willy Wonka jealous. Cocoa powder can be substituted for the cacao beans or nibs, though it lacks their nutty fullness. No liquor cabinet should be without a small bottle of honey-smooth, smoky, tangerine-flavored Rangpur lime syrup. Made from the lime’s peel and juice, it is great not only to wet the rim of a cocktail glass, but also as a mixer in mojitos and margaritas. Kona deep sea salt is big, with a firm backbone of mineral and a glint of fresh fruit sweetness that bring harmony through leadership rather than brute force.

This toddy, a warming way to start brunch on a wintry day, is served in sugar-rimmed mugs and garnished with a stick of cinnamon. To make this for a crowd, mix up the rum and brown sugar and cloves ahead of time and add the boiling water at the last minute.

There’s a good reason mojitos have become all the rage. Made with rum and lots of fresh mint and lime juice, this lively Cuban cocktail practically begs to be made into a terrific granita. To make it more adult, drizzle a bit of extra rum over each serving and garnish with fresh mint sprigs.

If I was stranded on a deserted tropical island and could have only one dessert, this would be my choice. Admittedly, it would likely be my only choice, since all the ingredients are native to the tropics.

One day while wasting the afternoon flipping through the television channels (what did we do before the remote control?), I stopped when I came across a not-very-well-choreographed procession of statuesque, exotically beautiful women parading across a stage. After a few minutes of riveted attention, I realized that I’d happened upon the Miss Martinique pageant. Once the glamorous gals had strutted their stuff wearing barely-there bikinis, teetering around precariously on steep high heels (it seemed the smaller the swimsuit, the higher the heels), the contest concluded with the host posing the all important question about why the pageant was so vital for promoting world peace and understanding. One of the contestants flashed her big, bright smile, looked right into the camera, and responded, “Because beauty is the key to communication.” With a thought-provoking answer like that, awarding the crown to anyone else would have been a crime. And sure enough, she won. But maybe she got mixed up and was talking about mangoes, the other beauties of the tropics. Their vibrant red exterior and succulent orange pulp do indeed communicate beauty and good taste that are not just skin deep.

If you need to liven things up around your holiday table, this tipsy ice cream will do the trick. Warm apple crisp, cranberry upside-down cake, or the ever-popular pumpkin pie—all are improved with a sidecar of this frozen version of eggnog. This will definitely make those obligatory family get-togethers a bit less traumatic…which I offer on very good authority. The simplest way to measure freshly grated nutmeg, which is the only kind you should use, is to fold a sheet of paper in half, reopen it, and grate the nutmeg over the paper. Then fold the paper again to direct the nutmeg into the measuring spoon.

Maybe I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer. When I visited the Chartreuse distillery in the French Alps, our guide told us that the exact recipe for the famed herbal liqueur was a closely guarded secret, known only by three brothers who worked at the monastery. Astounded, I spoke up. “Wow, that’s incredible. What is the likelihood of three brothers going into the same business together, as well as becoming monks at the same monastery?” The other guests on the tour simply stopped and looked at me with their mouths slightly agape. Then our guide enlightened me and we moved on, but not before I overheard a few hushed conversations evaluating my intellect. This is a very light ice cream, and it’s so simple that anyone, regardless of their intelligence level, can easily put it together.

The first time I discovered “gourmet” ice cream, the flavor was rum raisin, made by one of those premium brands with lots of vowels in its name. Aside from all those vowels, it also had lots and lots of raisins plumped in real, honest-to-goodness rum, and I had never had store-bought ice cream that was so smooth and so creamy. Coincidentally, at about the same time I discovered those little round pints of premium ice cream, I learned a new way to eat ice cream: right from the little round pint container. Which, by strange coincidence (or shrewd marketing, more likely), fit just perfectly in my hand.

This is the perfect date ice cream. Ha ha…er, sorry about that. Ahem. Anyway, sweet dates and rum make a good duo, but having lived in San Francisco for many years, where it’s often whispered that there’s no better way to liven up a pairing than by adding a third element, I offer you this ménage à trois of flavors in one sybaritic ice cream. Be careful when heating the rum and dates: The rum can flame up, so keep an eye on the action before it gets too hot to handle.