Lemon and mint cocktail

On our amazing trip to Dubai, we were served a refreshing drink made of lemon and mint.  I got quite addicted and since coming home have found myself drinking it a lot, with the addition of a slightly less traditional little ‘freshener’ of gin.  Oh it makes all the difference.  Those little minxes at British Mummy Bloggers challenged me to vlog a summer recipe, so I cheated and did this cocktail instead.  Here’s a still from our ‘shoot’:

To whip up the cocktail, you’ll need

2 lemons

1 large bunch of mint

1 tablespoon sugar

Large jug of ice

Large slug of gin

So first, squeeze the lemons into the blender.  Try to get as much pulp in there as possible.  Then add in the mint, removing the stalks so you don’t get any woody bits in there.  Add in the sugar and the ice.  Whizz for a LONG time.  Until your ears are ringing and you can’t bear it any more should just about do it.  Finally throw in the gin.  Whizz again just to mix.  Serve immediately.  But hey, just sip okay?  This one’s a bit of a killer.

Of course, if you serve it in one of these luscious Urban Bar glasses, it’ll taste much better:

Quick and easy home made hummus

Obviously to complement your zingy cocktail, you’ll need yummy nibbles.  Hummus is quick and easy and served everywhere in Dubai.  You can keep a tin of chickpeas in the cupboard for when you want to whip up a quick bowl of dippy doo.  Add in a handful of chopped mint or coriander for freshness:

1 tin chickpeas, drained

1 clove garlic (I sometimes cut out the garlic and just use a good quality garlic oil instead)

Juice of 1/2 lemon

Pinch of salt

2-3 tbsp olive oil or rapeseed oil

Handful of chopped mint or coriander

Paprika to garnish

So just whizz the chickpeas, garlic, lemon juice and salt up with a stick blender, glugging in enough oil to loosen the mixture.  If you like it a bit runnier, feel free to add a couple of tbsp water.  Stir in the herbs and serve sprinkled with paprika and maybe a swirl of oil, with crispy toasted pitta breads, breadsticks or some crunchy veg for dipping.

On our trip, we visited the Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding for a talk and lunch.  Our food was amazing:

For an easy main course, look no further than this Arabic staple, Machboos.  It’s made everywhere in the UAE and is very similar to a chicken biryani or paella  (most people think this dish originates from India, but our generous hosts in Dubai claimed it as their own!).  The original is made with chicken pieces and dried limes, or loomi, which are difficult to get here so I’ve left them out  (if you find them, add two and make sure you pierce them first – apparently they explode).   Here they are at the spice market (front right):

Here’s my very simple version that makes for easy entertaining:

Arabic Chicken Machboos (or biryani)*

Serves 4

2 tbsp rapeseed oil

1 onion, finely chopped

Generous couple of pinches of salt

1 squeeze (say 2 tsp) tomato purée

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

Pinch nutmeg

1 or 2 bay leaves

4 chicken breasts,sliced into thin slivers, or leftover roast chicken, shredded

1 litre chicken stock

400g Basmati rice, well rinsed

Pinch of saffron

To garnish: fried onions, handful cashew nuts, handful sultanas and a handful of fresh coriander

So heat your oil in a heavy-based pan and gently fry the onion until translucent, adding in the salt at this stage.  Add in the spices (not the saffron) and cook gently until they give off  their lovely aromas.  Throw in the chicken and fry gently (you might have to add a bit more oil here) until it begins to brown.

Take out the bay leaves and add in the chicken stock, rice, saffron and dried limes (if using).  Stir well and cover.  Turn the heat right down and leave to cook for about 20 minutes or until all the water has been absorbed and the rice is tender.  Try not to keep lifting the lid as you want to keep all the steam inside.  I know it sounds funny but you can tell when the rice is done as it starts to make a kind of ‘crackling’ noise!  Fork it through and then keep it covered until you’re ready to serve.

In Dubai, our gorgeous biryani was served with a garnish of onions, fried to the point where they were almost crispy, cooked with some cashew nuts and a handful of raisins.  Delicious.  We also ate from enormous platters of grilled fish called Safi, a really memorable meal.  To the right is the Machboos and to the left is a really interesting spicy chicken ‘mousse’ called Madrouba :

Mint tea

I’m currently lusting after Denby’s newest collaboration with Monsoon: ‘Cosmic’ – a paisley print in ‘deep blue, teal, mauve and lime’.  I want it all.  I keep smashing my Denby Reflex, so I’m trying to persuade the hubster into a new collection.  This is classic Denby quality with beautiful embellishment. What’s not to love?  This teapot would be perfect for serving some refreshing mint tea in the garden after your deliciously scented Arabic meal:

And finally, for your entertainment, here’s me getting into the spirit of things and trying on the national dress (I’m on the right *cough*).  Yeah, go on, laugh it up.

*Thanks to Nick Coffer for help with this recipe adaptation.

A Londres encore! This time we headed to Hammersmith to visit the wonderful chaps at Sipsmith.  I first met James at the Real Food Festival (incidentally, you can win tickets to this year’s festival over at My Daddy Cooks), and was enchanted by the fantastic aromas of their bespoke London Dry Gin (you know I love a gin).  At the time he said ‘oh you must come and see us’, but then we headed back to Ireland and I’d all but put it out of my head, until our visit home this week and a chance ‘tweetup’ with lovely Sipsmith Sam.

Anyhoo, the first surprise was the actual distillery.  I’m not quite sure what I was expecting – a factory? a warehouse? – but I don’t think it was a plain blue door tucked down a quiet little London side street:

We were met by a very friendly Sam (sadly, his partner Fairfax had already headed off for the Easter weekend) and the lovely James.  I’m keen to hear about their history and Sam doesn’t disappoint.  Sam and Fairfax were childhood friends.  Both worked at large drinks companies, and both had a hankering to form a distillery that was small, bespoke and original.  The thing I most admire about the Sipsmiths is their sheer enthusiasm.  The next hour was full of effusive chat, about everything from gin’s pretty awful reputation (historically – mother’s ruin and all that), to a bit about the science as to how the gorgeous Prudence, their beautiful copper still (handmade in Bavaria) , actually changes the ‘raw’ alcohol into the gorgeously fragrant London Gin and Barley Vodka that is Sipsmith’s end product.

Sam was so generous with his time – and his expertise – letting us see, taste and touch the raw materials that go into making Sipsmith’s gin so amazing.  He fielded all my mental questions (‘do you have to clean Prudence?’ – they do, and it’s a gargantuan task – she’s becoming redder and more fiery looking as she ages) and his eyes practically glittered as he told us how Sipsmith’s first batch was ‘born’ on the same day as Fairfax’s daughter, Emily.  To this day, you can log on to their website and see what amazing thing happened on the day your batch was ‘born’.

Sam introduced us to the botanicals that make the gin smell so divine and give it its unique flavours… we crushed coriander seeds in our hands and smelled them – have you ever done it?  The scent is amazingly floral – you can actually smell lavender and fresh grass!  Likewise juniper – the smell is heady and gorgeous when you crush the little brown seeds in your fingers.  We buried our noses in a huge jar of the marzipan-scented bitter almond and chewed Chinese cassia bark.  The experience was amazing: sight, touch, taste… a little glimpse into the magic that Fairfax and Sam create in their flame-haired Bavarian beauty.

We also talked about Sipsmith’s Barley Vodka: don’t think vodka tastes of anything? Wait ’til you taste Sipsmith’s – your mouth is filled with the flavour – and it’s not harsh and burny.. it’s almost, well, rich-tasting – does that sound weird?

I ask Sam how he likes to drink his own creations: ‘well you can’t beat a Vesper’ (remember the drink that James Bond names after Vesper in Casino Royale?’):

Bond: ‘Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?”

And what’s next for the talented Sipsmiths?  Well, there’s a move to bigger premises planned, and there’s a batch of Sloe Gin (we tasted it, it’s incredible – not gloopy and thick, but light and citrussy) and a new product: Damson Vodka, gently steeping, ‘ready for rolling out on the glorious 12th’

I can’t wait!

Massive thanks to Sam and James for their time (and for the bottle of gin that we clutched happily on the tube all the way home!) xx

You can find Sipsmiths stockists here.

This month I’m delighted to have been invited to join in the Irish Foodies Cookalong.  Basically, a whole bunch of Irish foodies and bloggers get together the first Friday of every month to cook their interpretation of a theme, then post their results on the Facebook page.

This month’s theme is autumn fruit, so I thought it was time to unearth all those blackberries I picked in September, now nestling in the bottom of the freezer.

There are few rules to making liqueurs – let’s face it, bung some fruit in with some alcohol and a ton of sugar and it’s never going to taste bad, but bear in mind the following:

* Store your liqueur in the dark – the beautiful colour of your blackberries will soon be destroyed if exposed to sunlight

*Don’t store in the fridge.  The delicate aroma and taste won’t truly come out if the liqueur is cold.

*Dissolve your sugar thoroughly.  Whether you’re using my recipe, or steeping fruit in alcohol and then adding a sugar syrup, make sure all the sugar crystals are completely dissolved or they’ll ruin your finished liqueur by appearing in an unpleasant and crunchy fashion in the glass.

400g fresh (or frozen) blackberries

250g cooking apples (weight is after peeling and coring)

600g caster sugar

700ml bottle vodka

Put the blackberries and apple pieces into a saucepan.  Pour in 300ml water and bring to the boil.  Add the caster sugar, turn it down low and stir just until all the sugar is dissolved and the apples are mushed (technical term).

It may seem like jam making at this point – but think about it – you need the slightly thick stickiness that all good liqueurs have, plus you want the apple to break down.

Leave to cool slightly, then stir through the vodka.  Bottle up (make sure your bottles are spotless, either from a hot dishwasher cycle, or a good wash in hot, soapy water and then a final rinse of boiling water), then leave for a couple of weeks in a dark place.

Then all you need to do is strain and rebottle and you have the perfect autumn liqueur.  As you can see, it makes enough for three bottles and I only had two, but while it’s steeping, it can live in a jam jar.

Imagine pouring a little of this into a flute and topping up with champagne for a perfect ‘Hedgerow Kir Royale’ this Christmas too!

Oh and can I just say if you’re looking for preserving jars, I highly recommend Patteson’s Glass (http://www.jarsandbottles-store.co.uk/). They sell all sorts of kilners and bottles for home preserving, and they deliver to Ireland – yay!  Sadly I discovered them too late for this recipe, but I’ll be using their lovely bottles to make some sloe gin very soon.

So the other night, we were talking about cocktails.  Well, that’s a lie actually, I was regaling Hubby with tales of Disney – how me and my fellow Disneyers spent many a happy evening in the bar, downing mojitos, being loud and taking the piss out of the lady behind the bar who looked disturbingly like Matt Lucas (I luv you more than…lollipops!). 

Anyhoo, digressing.  I happened to remember that I had one of those packs of frozen mango chunks from Tesco in the freezer, so we cracked out the disturbingly expensive blender and had a bash at a few cocktails.  First up, then, came these little beauties:

Frozen Mango Daiquiri

You will need:

Frozen mango chunks

1/2 lime, juiced

1 measure Bacardi

Slug Cointreau (that’s not Cointreau made of slugs, BTW)

Apple juice or Club soda

Chuck a couple of handfuls of frozen mango chunks into the blender jug, then add the juice of half a fresh lime, 1 measure of Bacardi (I use a shot glass as 1 measure, which is probably a bit much but then I’m an alcoholic), a big slug of Cointreau and whiz until slushy.  You might need an extra splosh of something if your blender gets clogged up (apple juice, or more alcohol if you’re feeling all carefree and what-the-hell, which you certainly will be after a couple of these little babies).  Pile into posh glasses.  By the way, if you use pineapple instead of Mango and Malibu instead of Bacardi, you get a really nice tropical taste.  A little unethical maybe – I’d never make it as a Mixologist – but by jove I throw a good party.

Next up, then was the classic Mojito:

Handful mint leaves

1 lime, cut into wedges

2 tsp sugar

2 measures Bacardi

Club soda

For this one, you need to bung the mint leaves, lime wedges and sugar into a tall glass and bash them with the handle of a wooden spoon (this is called ‘muddling’, which suddenly becomes hilariously funny after a few of these).  Next bung loads of ice cubes into the glass, splosh in the rum and top up with the club soda.  Or, if you use golden rum and apple juice, you can make an Apple-soaked Mojito, which is rather yum as well.

Lastly, I’m a big fan of the White Lady – this one has a kick like a mule and is best reserved for delicate sipping whilst preparing a delicious dinner for your guests. 

White Lady

1 measure Gin (Tanqueray makes it extra spesh)

1 measure Cointreau

1 measure lemon juice

Pour the lot into your shaker with loads of ice – strain into posh glasses, decorating with a little lemon twist if you like, and sip in a genteel manner.  Start knocking this one back and the next morning your head will feel like it’s been used as the match ball at Anfield of a Saturday.  Trust me, I’m a mixologist

And talking of cocktails, I happen to know (‘cos I’m chums with the lovely Diana) that the gang at AllRecipes are running a cocktail competition…  And you can win a blender and cocktail set of your very own.  And if you win, remember your friends, eh?

  So being a bit of an Ebay-addicted household, lovely Ciaran the postie is well used to being mugged at the door of English Towers by eager parcel recipients.  Friday was no exception, then, when my copy of Merry Kitschmas, The Ultimate Holiday Handbook by Michael D Conway finally arrived.  I’ve been looking for it for ages after glimpsing it on the shelf behind someone on some tv programme or other (it might even have been a Nigella programme – I can’t remember now).

This treasure trove of the cheap and tacky is exactly what Christmas should be about.  I mean, how did people survive Christmas before Michael Conway taught them how to make a Frosty the Chocoholic Snowman cocktail (above left) or a Santa’s Little Helper (above right).  The one in the middle, in case you’re interested, is a Chocolate Candy Cane (1 part grenadine, one part peppermint vodka and one part Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur – garnished with a chocolate-dipped candy cane).

And for your festive food, how about a Weener Tree?  It’s perfect for your Kitschmas cocktail party.  Or why not decorate the table with an enormous styrofoam snowman (completely covered in white mini marshmallows) and on Christmas night, hang the Manipulative Parent’s Reversible Stocking on the mantelpiece: on one side it says ‘nice’ and on the other it says ‘naughty’.  Threaten to hang it ‘naughty’ side out unless they do everything you say this Christmas.

And let’s face it: any recipe that starts with ’3 x 3oz boxes sparkling white grape-flavoured gelatin’ gets my vote.  So come on, spray that fake aerosol snow on your windows, crank up the wattage on the flashing Rudolph on your front lawn and be lavish with the tinsel.  Celebrate your inner trailer trash.  What?  It’s Christmas.

Righty ho, then.  Here we go with the promised Limoncello recipe.  Firstly a little note about the alcohol.  Seeing as we’re cheating (see title), there are no rules.  I know that some people make this Limoncello with Grappa, or Schnapps, or one of those colourless fruity brandy-type drinks called Eau de Vie.  Any of these is fine.

Anyhoo, it’s dead easy.  I’ve even enlisted José Mourinho Hubby to photograph a little step by step guide (note how much better the photos are than my usual ham-fisted efforts).  Firstly, you’ll need:

6 beautiful, fat fresh lemons, unwaxed or scrubbed in hot soapy water then rinsed well

200ml water

200g caster sugar

70cl bottle of Vodka or your alcohol of choice

Some sort of glass container with lid (I used one of those Kilner jars)

Step 1: peel the zest off the lemons with a peeler.  Try not to push the peeler too hard otherwise you’ll get too much of the bitter pith with your peel. 

Step 2: juice them all, and set aside with the zest. 

Step 3: put the sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to the boil, then bubble away for a few minutes until it looks thicker and a bit syrupy.  Notice that I cleaned my hob especially for you.  Flattered?

Step 4: bung in the juice and zest, give it a stir, then slosh in the entire bottle of Vodka.

Step 5: pour the whole shooting match into some kind of bottle or even jars, as long as they’re sterilised, put on the lid and leave somewhere cool and dark until Chrimbo, when all you have to do is strain it, put it into a bottle and shove it in the freezer ready to play ‘Truth or Dare’ or some other juvenile party game that involves the winner taking a shot.  All photographic evidence gratefully received.  Erm… or you could be all civilised and Italianish Italianate Italiany Italianesque do like Italians do, and drink it with biscotti – the recipe for which I shall produce for you, as if by magic, shortly.

Ta da!

Ahhh, Hubby and I love the boat road down to the lough.  This time of year it’s filled with the most beautiful sights and smells: the baby burgers and all growing up into potential rump steaks, their mamas still snorting protectively as we pass, the brook gurgles and bubbles, hidden amongst a hundred different wild flowers, butterflies flutter by (sorry) and recently a beautiful, and surprisingly large Pine Marten dashed out in front of us, a teeny baby swinging alarmingly from its mouth.

This time of year, the Elders are in full bloom too.  The beautiful smell makes us both nostalgic – me for the cricket meadow back home, and Hubby for getting up to no good near some trees, probably.  So I happened to mention to Hubby that I’d seen a recipe for them deep fried in a kind of tempura batter.  I’d also squirreled away a recipe for Elderflower Champagne from the River Cottage website (which I obviously then fiddled with) and we resolved to gather a load the next day and give it a go.

Well, it’s not a particularly hard process, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll be left with anything remotely drinkable at the end, but if you’d got some Elderflowers blooming near you, give this a go.  It’s a bit of a laugh:

Elderflower Champagne

Elderflowers (you’ll probably need 20 to 30 flower heads)

2 kg sugar

4 litres hot water plus another 2 litres cold

2 limes, juiced and zested

2 lemons, juiced and zested

2 tablespoons white wine vinegar

Dried yeast

So gather your flower heads and give them a quick rinse to get any bugs out.  You’ll need something to make your champagne in – I used a new bucket from Woodies – make sure it’s very clean, obviously.  Pour in the hot water and add your sugar, stirring until it dissolves, then top up to 6 litres with cold water.  Stir in the lime and lemon juice and zest, the vinegar and the flowers.  Now cover the top of the bucket with a clean tea towel or a baby muslin or something (not clingfilm, it needs to breathe), and peg the edges so no flies or icky things can get in.  Leave it somewhere like a utility room – not too hot and stuffy and nice and airy – for a few days then add a couple of pinches of dried yeast, stirring well.  Re-cover and leave for another four days, then strain well (through muslin or a clean cotton cloth) and bottle.

We used screw-top wine bottles that had been sterilised by washing in hot soapy water, rinsing, then baking in the oven.  I’m not sure if this is safe, but nothing exploded so hey ho.  Now you can leave your champagne anywhere from a couple of weeks to six months to mature (in the garage, in case of explosions) before chilling and cracking it open.  Apparently the end result is very mildly alcoholic but makes a lovely mixer with gin too.  I’ll let you know.  Cheers!

So there’s nothing nicer than spending a warm, early summer’s evening surrounded by the sound of chinking glasses and laughter.  And last night was exactly one of those nights.  Loads of people came (Hubby had invited more people when he was down the pub last night) and we had buckets full of ice dotted around to keep all the drinks cold, tons of food (the kebabs went down particularly well) and sweeties galore for the tiddlers.  Talking of smalls, I think at one stage we had upwards of seventeen kids between 4 and 15 running around like loonies.  Happily, they had loads of space as they had the run of D, Little C and Lou’s garden too, and spent a happy evening playing 40/40 (no idea – a bit like ‘kick the can’), having running gun battles, playing football and generally wallying about.  Us adults, meanwhile, nabbed every available chair in the place and parked ourselves outside on the patio where we continued to drink, eat and talk crap long into the night (kept warm by a very knackered, but startlingly hot patio heater we’ve had for years).  Several kids stayed over, others eventually collapsed in front of the TV and as people started to drift off, we were eventually left with just D and his sister A (her hubby J had taken little E home).  We carried on drinking and talking shite (oh yes, the Morgan’s Spiced came out) well into the wee hours until we decided to finally call it a night (morning?) and leave all the clearing up until we could stand up straight.

The jellies were a huge hit.  #2 made little cranberry and raspberry shots, #1 made raspberry and lemonade ones, and I made Absolut Kurant and Blackcurrant ones for the adults.  Basically you just make the jelly up as you normally would with half a pint of boiling water, then with the kids ones you just make it up to a pint with cold water and whatever else you fancy, and with the adults you add a big glug of whatever booze takes your fancy.  Apparently, once you’ve melted the jelly in the ½ pint of boiling water, you can add up to ¾ of the rest in alcohol (depending on how strong it is) and it will still set, although I didn’t put in more than 4fl oz as I didn’t want them to be too potent and have people falling all over the place.

Anyhoo, I’m off to the carnage that was once my kitchen.  Having been the hostess with the mostest, I’m now reverting back to my primary role in household management: chief cook and bottle washer, all with a crashing headache.  Happy days.

So okay, I know at this exact precise moment it’s still Thursday but I’ll be FAR too busy tomorrow to post anything so you’ll have to indulge me.  What’s that you say?  Why will I be busy?  Well, dear reader, I’m having a PARTAY!!

You see, people, in Ireland you definitely have to go with the flow a bit.  A party can often start for the most inane reason.  For example, last Friday we popped over to D Next Door’s sister A’s house to pick up #2 who was round there playing with little K, and ended up staggering home some time after 2am, sans child (he stayed over having lost the hope of ever dragging us home somewhere around 11) and last night turned into a bit of  a sesh round D’s (Hubby popped in for a chat, cracked a beer with D, then other people popped in and suddenly there was a houseful and, well, it’d be rude to leave), so we ended up staying until 11pm (headaches all round again this morning).  And this, apparently, is only the beginning of the summer barbecue season.  Now you know why the kids here have such bloody long school holidays, it’s because the parents are planning on being so hungover they can’t possibly do the school run for three whole months. 

Anyhoo, so we thought we’d get in there quick and invite all the lovely people we’ve met here for a little gathering: D and the kids, obviously, C and his lovely wife C (the ones with the boat) and D’s sister A and her Hubby J and their kids, and T & L who live next door to A & J, T who fixes the cars and his wife G, and probably a few other stragglers from GAA (that’s Gaelic Football to you foreigners, heh).

We got the usual burgers and sausages, etc, and I thought I’d marinate some chicken in different stuff like honey, mustard and soy, and Thai green curry paste, etc and do kebabs with various dips, plus those minced lamb kebab things and then just round it all off with an enormous plate of pistachio brownies and ice lollies for the kids.  Drinks-wise, I thought as well as wine and beer, we could whizz up a big blender-full of Frozen Strawberry Daquiris just to get things going, plus various non-alcoholic fruity smoothies for the children (no, don’t worry, I won’t mix them up and get the kids drunk).

So Hubby and I went up north again today (the £ being terrifically bad against the Euro, it’s cheaper for us to do our shopping there) and came back with a car load of food, beer, wine, champers and….er…jelly.  Yes, jelly.  Well I’ve always wanted to make jelly shots and… oh dear, this could be another late one.

So J, C and little C finally came up for their long-awaited visit. Hubby and I made a special trip to Flood’s the butchers in Oldcastle to get a joint of their fantastic beef. It’s a very busy place which is always a good sign in my book, and they have all the details about where their meet comes from (even the abbatoir if you’re that interested) up on a blackboard in the shop. The chap brought out a whole bloody great wodge of cow so we could choose a nice cut for our roast dinner. Small distractions like me dropping the entire tray of Yorkshire puddings mid-pour, and leaving the potatoes so long that they turned into mash and I had to do some more for the roasties did nothing to dampen our spirits. J & C came armed with so many pressies you could hardly see J for the piles of boxes. I got the most AMAZING Le Creuset bean pot in the same blue as my Denby Jetty that I shall be salivating over for years to come (Hubby and C just didn’t get it).

Bertie went mental as soon as he saw C, his favourite person in the whole world. A quick check-up indicated that we’re doing well – lovely coat, just the right weight, but claws a bit too long (uh oh, I hate doing those), and Bert even got to show J & C his favourite route past the cows and sheep down the boat road. He was a happy boy. Later, when C was lying on the sofa, Bertie gingerly climbed up on top of C and perched, happily if a little guiltily, until told to get down. It’s love, pure and simple.

Later we made cocktails, which descended into throwing everything you could possibly imagine into the blender and seeing what the result was. J’s masterpiece was this, a slightly spicy strawberry number that, quite frankly, will blow your hat off. Woohoo!

Death By Strawberry

Tin of strawberries
Morgan’s Spiced Rum
Absolut Kurant
Lime juice

So add a few spoonfuls of the tinned strawberries, along with a splosh of juice. Add a shot glass full of Morgan’s and another of Absolut. Squeeze in the juice of half a lime and a handful of ice. Blend until smooth. Drink until giggly.