Sometimes, the search for steps to make a lighter impact is a tough one. Being green these days can be hard and often backbreaking work – from digging out the garden, to rerouting the rain gutters into water barrels.
Its as easy as sitting on the front porch pitting cherries while you listen to a summer rainstorm.
This morning found me sprawled over my porch's beat up couch, idly working my way through a pound or so of local organic cherries I picked up yesterday at a new farmer's market the Prime Geek and myself checked out. With fingers stained a cheery red (I look like I'm about to go sleepwalking while plotting the death of my husband's foes – Out, Out, Da... well. You know.), I finished the last of the luscious orbs as the well trickled to a halt at last.
What to do, what to do.
Normally, I'll flash freeze fruit and have it sitting safe and chilly for the upcoming winter. Or perhaps make a batch of jellies to smear on homemade bread when the snow swirls. However, I'm desperately trying clear the freezer at the moment – in time for an upcoming delivery weighing in at a staggering 175 pounds* – and space is at a premium. Jams? Nice... but it was 93' yesterday, and while the heat has broken a bit thanks to the rain... I'm still not looking forward to a long haul in a steamy kitchen. Drying? That's a job for tomorrow (I'm picking up more of these lovelies in the morning – far too good a deal to pass by) I do believe.
Instead, I think I'll see what it takes to make a cherry bounce.
No, I'm not chucking them for distance – I'm getting them well and truly drunk. Two quart mason jars – complete with lids and rings, two pint jars – ditto, a bottle of VSOP brandy, another of white rum, a wee bit of raw sugar, and two lemons. That should get my fruit lit.
A simple formula to make yourself some holiday cheer. Just wash the jars good and clean (same with the lids) them into each drop a few inches of pitted cherries**. A handful of the raw sugar, lemon zest & its juice sprinkled on top. Glug into one quart and one pint the run, into the remaining two the brandy. Lid and shake until dizzy and your pets are looking at you oddly. Or at least odder than usual.
Keep in a sunny spot for two weeks, then hide your jewels in a cool dark place until the chilly holiday of your choice arrives. Strain – and... well. We'll see. Sounds tasty at least.
Ahhh. Just doing my part to make the world a little cleaner.
*More on this later.
**Okay. Fine. Mine aren't pitted, I sliced mine in half and dug out the pits. The one piece of kitchen schmeck I don't own happens to be a cherry pitter.