This has been a week of infusions for me. Inspired by a Local 121 tasting table at last year's Wintertime Farmer's Market at Hope Artiste Village in Pawtucket, I decided to undertake my first alcohol infusion. So you started with a small test batch, right Jeremy? In case things didn't go exactly according to plan? Nope. Spent $75 on a large ball jar with spigot, $80 on vodka and had a pretty 'spensive 'fusing party in my kitchen. Ingredients? Three red grapfruits. Three bunches of bruised tarragon. Three litres of Absolut. After four days I strained half of the concoction through a coffee filter (thinking a cheesecloth might go a little quicker next time), preparing it for consumption (I'm thinking with soda water). Going to let the remaining half sit for three more days and see if I can taste a difference. Current thoughts after some preliminary tasting: use a smoother vodka next time (maybe Chopin?) so the vodka can be enjoyed on the rocks.
Next on my list was a little ditty I caught wind of while on the West Coast. This mediocre restaurant (see #5 here) had a giant vat of water sitting on the bar with cucumbers soaking in it. Next to Fiji, it was prolly the best water I've consumed. Can't be too hard to replicate, right? Actually, that's exactly right. Purchased a beautiful blown glass pitcher, one cucumber, and turned on my faucet. Two caveats:
1) The shelf life of this medley is about 3 days. Keep plenty'o'cukes on hand.
2) This pitcher + cucumbers-in-the-water made for a trickling all over my floor every time I attempted to pour. Remedy: a wooden spatula (it makes the whole act of pouring that much more performative, which is excellent for dinner parties. "Oh, allow me!"). Conversely: purchase the aforementioned $75 ball jar with spigot for use. Perhaps (or, most definitely) the sealed lid would prevent the water from tasting like wet sickeningly soft cucumber skin after 3 days. Or maybe I shouldn't use 3 week old cucumbers (has anyone noticed the serious presence of the number three in this blog post? Someone's going out to play his lucky numbers!).
3) There isn't a third caveat. But there's that eerie three again.
