Your Sauce is hot

The conversation turned to hot sauce when I mentioned I had to duck into Whole Foods and get a couple bottles of Crystal. The grocery store in my zip code, the one I visit twice a week, doesn’t carry Crystal and I never remember to pick any up when I am at Whole Foods

For Christmas, I was gifted a half dozen bottles of Crystal and two months later, I was down to two and half bottles with a batch of Red Beans (and Rice) on the horizon,I was getting a bit hoardee with the remaining bottles. I was wondering if I should just use, my back-up hot sauce, Trappey’s. A good tasting product despite the gums, dyes and fillers, a fine understudy, the type of hot sauce one can run out of without panicking.

My brother, mentioned his father-in-common-law loved the Trappeys and he would tell anyone who would listen why Trappeys ruled the universe. Although, my brother commented on this like it was a bad thing, I was somewhat sympathetic: People should be passionate about food and more importantly, I wasn’t the one who had to listen to the dissertation.

The king of all hot sauces is Tabasco. Having fled Avery Island at the end of the Civil War, a source of salt for Confederate supplies, the McIlhenny family returned in 1868 to find their plantation in ruins and only a crop of red peppers remaining. Vinegar, salt, sweat and a century built an empire that now holds a quarter of the market and sells 26 million USD worth of hot sauce annually.

Plantations, ruin, southern gentleman, restoration of honor…the truth might be a tad more complicated than the intertwined plotlines of Gone with the Wind and The Fountainhead– slavery, insurrection, ownership of land mined for salt by native Americans for centuries before the Louisiana Purchase, just sayin that's all, just sayin.

Not quite as legendary is Crystal Hot Sauce. Produced since in 1923 by the family owned Baumer foods, who also are currently responsible for the Ditka line of sauces. They might be fine sauces, but, Ditka, Coach Ditka, Ditka? That is a little like a Trent Lott line of hair care products.

Anyway, unlike the rural hot sauces, Crystal is the city mouse. Historically the manufacturing was done near Tulane or now in post- Katrina suburban New Orleans, Crystal company uses the same three ingredients as Tabasco – Vinegar, salt and cayenne peppers, but the result is a well balanced, mellower, kinder, sweeter condiment.

Crystal is more viscous than its better known counterpart, my guess would be that the Baumers use more peppers, seep fewer of the heat containing seeds and spend a little bit more on the vinegar. And it is just a guess, Tabasco’s burn isn’t a pepper burn, there is a lingering unpleasant acidic taste, the flavor is less complex, like a guy with a zany neck tie, Tabasco wants to make a memorable first impression and doesn’t have much after its introduction. By the way you can order your Tabasco tie here.

Crystal excels as a marinade –catfish quickly soaked in hot sauce, dredged in cornmeal and fried makes for a fine dinner. I have no concerns about adding Crystal during cooking, something I would never do with Tabasco for fear of food getting overwhelmed by a bad vinegar taste.

Emeril, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam and apparently even Mike Ditka has a hot sauce and I haven't tried them all - I am curious how Crystal would fare in a blind tasting ala Cook's Illustrated, probably wouldn't change my mind - I like opinions even if talking about hot sauce comes dangerously close to entering Cliff Claven territory.

Springtime for Garlic

Saucyman,

My garlic appears to be sprouting, is it still good?

It is still edible, but it might not be good. The green sprouts that inch their way out of the cloves are bitter tasting. While garlic is available ‘fresh’ year around, the stragglers found in the store at the end of winter are often lacking: desiccated and mealy, the garlic flavor is diminished and occasionally there is a slightly rancid aftertaste.

If a trip to the store is a hardship, you can and should, surgically cut out the sprouting portion of the plant. Gently sautéing the garlic, in a little olive oil or delicious, delicious butter until the clove softens and browns, neutralizes some of the bite of older garlic. Like all other things, food is only as good as the ingredients you use and it is best to pick up another head as time allows.

Garlic sprouts due to exposure to daylight and the heads should be stored in a dark, cool dry place – cupboard or the specially designed and designated porous, humidity regulating terra cotta pots. Experience tells me that garlic is more apt to start sprouting towards springtime, I can find no factual or internet confirmation for this observation; so I will downgrade this belief from fact to opinion. While that pre-bundled 4 pack from Trader Joe's seems like a value, it isn’t if you don’t do use it before it sprouts - buy garlic in small, manageable quantities.

Garlic essentially comes in three flavors: the mild elephant, the common white and the small compact heads of the fiery purple rocambole. Between February and early summer there is an additional option of spring or green garlic. The plant is yanked from the soil before the head forms, leaving something that looks like a fat scallion…not so much a substitute for regular garlic, as it is a seasonal treat, spring garlic is subtly flavored with hints of both garlic and onion. For a few months a year, the milder form of the allium plant can be married to foods that can normally be overwhelmed by garlic.



Spring garlic is an excellent match with brook trout. The easiest preparation would be to leave the head on the fish, place trimmed strands of garlic into the cleaned cavity and bake. A slightly more complicated but utterly elegant version of trout, involves filleting the trout and cooking in delicious, delicious butter with the garlic on the stovetop.

Trout & Spring Garlic

2 whole trout, head removed and filleted
5-8 pieces of spring garlic
6 Tablespoons butter
Salt & pepper

Melt butter in a 12-inch pan over medium low heat. Prepare garlic by removing the roots and cutting off the green ends – leaving only about an inch of green remaining on the stalk – cut in half lengthwise and add to melted butter and cook slowly for 5 minutes or until garlic goes limp.

Turn heat to medium, season the fillets and add the fish skin side down to the pan. Depending on the thickness and freshness of the fish, how well the pan conducts heat and what your stove considers ‘medium’, this should take 10 minutes. Consider the fish cooked when the flesh starts to flake towards the middle of the fish and the delicious, delicious butter turns a lovely, lovely nutty brown.



Remove from pan, place sautéed garlic on top of fillet and spoon butter over the top. Fresh lemon or orange juice squeezed on top adds a nice contrast. Spring asparagus and either red potatoes or saffron rice are great accompaniments.

Vodka Tasting

Vodka

In the course of a few short years Saucyman went from masculinely drinking dark beer out of a bottle, to sipping cocktails without a precipitous drop in testosterone. Much of that ‘lifestyle’ change can be attributed to the discovery of vodka.

A personal discovery, vodka, or the ability to distill vodka has been utilized for about a millennia or so. Like many things old and common, it is hard to pinpoint its exact origins. Some texts credit the vodka-loving Russians with the invention of the distilled drink, the etymology of Vodka is a derivative of the Russian word for water, voda. Other sources are not so quite so sure, crediting, the area that is now known as Poland as the spirit's birthplace. Other sources bestow its invention (separately) to Vikings, returning crusaders, Lithuanians and monastic orders.

Whatever its muddled origins, thanks to the modern bureaucratic state, there is a conclusive legally binding definition of vodka. In the states, the much more fun sounding than it actually is Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, classifies vodka as a ‘Colorless, odorless, tasteless spirit'. Across the Atlantic, the EU adopted standards defining "Vodka is a spirit drink produced from ethyl alcohol of agricultural origin.” This standard was set in the summer of ‘007 after a tug of war that pitted traditional producers against renegades who were labeling and selling pomace brandies as vodka.

The difference in standards can be attributed to a difference in how citizens view their agencies. Europeans look for the government to confer respectability on products while in the US, any regulatory input is viewed as stifling free trade and socialist malfeasance.

Although sugar beets, wood pulp and purportedly coal in the former communist Poland can be used to produce that ethanol bump, most vodka is made from wheat, rye or potatoes. After distillation vodka is filtered and bottled without aging. The combination of charcoal filtration and going into a bottle without being aged in a barrel produces a spirit that is low in fusel oils and congeners – these two substances, along with over-consumption are commonly believed to be the cause of many hangovers.

Because of the vodka’s rather neutral taste, the spirit lends itself well to cocktails and infusions. The golden age of cocktails in the 50s brought about a rapid growth in vodka sales – Smirnoff sales in the states went from 30,000 cases in 1946 to over a million cases annually by 1955. That is an increase of, well, a lot in a decade.

What the 1950s were to cocktails, the ought-oughts of the new millennia are to infusions: Vanilla, pepper, apple, ginger, lemon, cranberry, pomegranate flavored vodkas are available in even the most unfashionable downscale neighborhood liquor marts. Often using artificial flavors, these infusions are sold as at premium price and minimum taste.

St. George Spirits, where the Saucyman Bay Area Taste Sensation Weekend ™ ended, are the makers of Hangar One Vodka, and they produce a fine set of flavored alcohols. For a trip to a decommissioned Naval Air Station in Alameda and $10, a lover of food and drink can taste 12 craft distilled liquors. (For an additional $10, you can taste their new absinthe, for more info check out their website.)

The tasting included 5 vodkas, 4 of them infused. I had high hopes for the The Kaffir Lime Leaf infusion, but such is the problem with expectations, they’ll crush you. The vodka was fine, I was hoping for a nuanced flavor, but the taste was lime-like rather than the subtle exotic hint of lime you get from the leaf in Thai curries. While, the Buddah’s Hand Citron Vodka was a pleasant surprise – Lemon infused anything, often tastes like lemon pledge, St. George's avoid this trap by using the freakishly beautiful Buddah’s Hand Citrus, resulting in subtle lemon flavor without invoking memories of polishing furniture.

While drinking vodka neat/straight or as part of two extra dry vodka martini lunch is viewed with suspicion bordering on an intervention. Mixing a flavored vodka into a drink the subtle flavor is often lost – Hangar One’s Raspberry Vodka did enhance the berry like notes found in blood oranges in Saturday nights pre-dinner cocktail - So much so that we would be tempted to see if either Mandarin Blossom Vodka or Buddah’s Head could round out the citrus flavor of the always tasty greyhound.

More on vodka and potato vodka in future blogs: The trip to St. George’s is highly recommended. Despite not being a huge fan, the scotch was subtle instead peaty, the Eau de Vie's were excellent, a hard thing for a prideful Oregonian to admit. The Qi tea liqueurs were, well different – the black tea version was preferred over the white - fermented honey doesn’t belong outside the mead hall in Gilgamesh.

Saucyman on the road: San Francisco –

Team Saucyman headed down I-5 to the bayside cities of San Francisco, Oakland and Berkeley for what turned out to be, unsurprisingly, a foodcentric weekend.

A constant, safe opinion to hold is to profess a love for San Francisco. And what is not to love? The hills, the neighborhoods, the history, the stunning views, food and culture. Perhaps it is a contrarian streak but there is little chance that my heart will ever be left in San Francisco.

This especially when stated with the heresy “I like Los Angeles” can cause a look of hurt in a listener’s face that could otherwise only be elicited by abjuring NPR, Prisus owners and strangling kittens. San Francisco is easily the filthiest place I have ever been, & I've been to Mexico City. It is a rare place where you can step in a pile of crap and pray, wish or delude oneself into hoping it was from a dog. Understanding that if it actually came from a dog, someone would have got a ticket for not picking up afterwards.

As a general rule talking about cleanliness causes your co-conversationalist to stare hard and worry harder. Rather than using facts and reason to state why the city bothers me, I’ll attempt to explain via a trope: San Francisco is like heroin. Sure it looks fun with all the seductively glamorous and rockstars doing it, but in reality it is expensive, potentially dangerous and addictive – people can’t quit until they have exhausted themselves.

This trip two things occurred that have never happened before in San Francisco. The sun came out. I have been in the city in August when the combination of cloud cover and high humidity made the whole weekend seem akin to being locked in a refrigerator for two days. But sunshine in February, unbelievable.


Secondly, there was a farmers market, in February.


We are still 6 weeks away from the start of our market in Oregon and months away from the type of selection that was on display, during of all things, the Lenten season. Tomatoes, artichokes, romanesco, citrus, baby carrots - the bounty was, well, bountiful.




Sunshine and food directly from growers are just the type of things that could sway me towards possibly of reconsidering my stated opinion. Added to the experience the food Mecca of Berkeley, where apparently there is a university or something mixed in with all those restaurants. Even Alameda offered a trip to a vodka factory more on that in the next post.

Table for One

It wasn’t an epiphany, for more than a few years I have been aware eating a burrito over the sink is a personal bellwether; clanking a warning I am dangerously close to wandering into the social wilderness.

The moment was more akin to those rare instances when you really understand something for the first time. In this case I wasn’t mounting the top of the learning curve of algebra, I realized in spite of fairly good kitchen and social skills, I am a bad eater – bad, bad, very bad.

Mechanically, I usually can get food from my fork to mouth with few mishaps. I'll try anything and calorie wise, I can put it away. I don't talk with my mouth full of food nor repeatedly commit breaches of etiquette, I just eat alone too much - The byproduct of living alone, a protracted bachelorhood or perhaps at some point I ate in front of the TV once to often and unwittingly surrendered my ability to enjoy company over dinner.

With the realization my dinning acumen is sub-par, I’ve been forced to visit the idea that maybe, I don’t even like eating. For someone who has a spent most of his adult life attached to culinary pursuits, this is a hard piece of introspection.

• I like grocery shopping - the largess of the marketplace promises a world of possibility and creativity.
• I have a profound and abiding understanding of produce.
• I enjoy thinking about food.
• Talking about meals is a favorite pastime.
• I enjoy the act of cooking.
• I am happiest diddling around in the kitchen where the actions are at once so familiar and urgent, I can turn my brain off and spend some time focused on the matter at hand.

All good points, but none really address the larger issue of whether I like to eat. When I do something simple, like try to recall the last good meal I enjoyed, it is actually a relief to be able to instantly recollect dinners past so easily: There were really good ribs Tuesday, the previously posted gumbo worked out well, lamb chops and cauliflower gratin before that.

Maybe eating isn't something that can be parsed or divorced from other sensory inputs - for me anyway, thoughts of food are inseparable from all my other memories: Octopus in San Sebastian on my first trip that required a passport, sausage and beer at a bizarrely constructed Oktoberfest in Italian Piazza, papaya sprinkled with chili powder in Mexico, the first time I smelled lemongrass years ago & what it meant to be in the city, only 75 miles from home but so different. Even spending time with my brother last week is bound to the memory of a disappointingly okay pastrami sandwich I ordered at the time or to bring it full circle pleasant memory of sitting with my friend and eating a burrito, not over a sink, but on the hood of his sister’s car talking about believe it or not, eating burritos. It was a really good burrito.


This will all get sorted out eventually, the important issues do, so I will try to not over think - this anyway. Especially tonight, Valentine’s Day treat, I get dinner companionship and even though we are going out (chicken wings & tatertots, kind of an anti-fine dining Romance Industrial Complex protest), I am grateful enough that I promise to be good, attentive, pleasant and use a wetnap.

Happy Valentines Day.

Valentines Day

Saucyman, Is there a food that I can cook for Valentines Day for my sweetie that might impress her?

Most people would counsel chocolate, but I am going to recommend crepes (they aren't mutually exclusive).

There are two really essential things to know about crepes-

1. Their mere presence really impresses. Really, really impresses.
2. They are really easy to make. Really easy.

Pronounced, krāp (cr-Ehp as in yep), the alternative vocalization of Crey-P, will pass muster with the public, who will still know what you are talking about.

The great Julia Child described crepes as French pancakes in her break through Mastering the Art of French Cooking, not to contradict the godmother of the modern cookery but I always find it more helpful to think of crepes as little omelets: They contain no leavening, can be stuffed with almost anything and like an omelet, require a little more care than the abusable starchy pancake.

Crepes are versatile, savory or sweet sweet and not just for breakfast. The little packets of goodness can contain chocolate and/or strawberries as easily as ham and Gruyere cheese. Along with their ability to be stuffed with anything, crepes or crespelle as the Italians like to say, are mightily adaptable - substituting for fresh pasta in baked manicotti or easily used for blintzes.

Pour crepe batter over cherries and bake to create the fun to say and delicious to eat, clafoutis. (Take care pronouncing this word properly – Cla-foo-tee, pronouncing each consonant produces a word that sounds like it needs treated with antibiotics from the free clinic instead of a casual summer dessert it is.)

So if crepes are all that, why haven’t they reached near ubiquity in the home or at least found on the menu boards popular franchising schemes? Their mastery requires practice and the final product is far better when cooked at a low temperature. The combination of patience, practice and planning is the death knell for the crepe. Even if crepe making requires a bit of an initial investment, I am still sticking with my statement that crepes are easy, really easy to make.

This recipe, adapted from Rose Levy Beranbaum’s masterwork, The Cake Bible, substitutes cornstarch for flour. This gluten-free variation eliminates 45-minute resting period for the batter and as a bonus allows you to offer food to those suffering celiac disease and those who avoid flour for more or less self-diagnosed reasons.

Special crepe pans aren’t necessary a 6-inch non-stick or cast iron (egg) pan will probably yield the best results. Some cooks are able to pour batter straight on to a griddle and make delicate crepes, but pans are a good starting point.

Important Tips –

1. Low heat. Using the two smallest burners, the temperature should be dialed in halfway between off and high. Allow the pans about 5 minutes to warm up. You are ready to crepe it up when butter melts slowly in the pan neither sizzling nor browning.
2. Pouring batter. Use a liquid measuring cup like a completely unfancy pyrex model. Pick the handle of the pan up, try to angle the pan so the batter will flow downhill– pour batter, gently shake pan back and forth and left to right. Return pan to stovetop burner and back fill any holes with batter.
3. No such thing as too much butter. Most methods call for clarified butter carefully brushed into the pan. Whole butter works equally as well and aids in the caramelization of the crepe. Butter prevents the batter from sticking to the pan, which makes for easier flipping and a prettier result. More butter is better than less, dab excess butter away with a paper towel.
4. Flipping. The crepe is ready to flip when the batter separates from the side of the pan. Fingers, spatulas, fancy mid-air ‘Look ma, no hands’ turns can all work. For those who use fingers, keep a glass of ice water nearby to stop the burning.
5. What is the hurry? High heat doesn’t expedite cooking times, it only changes the end result. A hotter burner is only going to make a brittle, dry crepe not make crepes more quickly. With two pans, it should take about 15 to 20 minutes to cook the batter. Listen to a podcast, wash dishes between flips, just make the time commitment.
6. Stack crepes on a plate as they complete cooking, place a piece of parchment or wax paper between each crepe. (Make extras and freeze them in a Ziploc bag).

This recipe below omits both vanilla and the orange scented Grand Mariner brandy so the crepes can be used for both sweet and savory dishes.

24 - 6 inch crepes
3 eggs
1 cup milk
4 tablespoons melted butter
¾ cup cornstarch
1 tablespoon sugar
a pinch of salt

Extra butter for pans.

Combine ingredients in a food processor, blender or Luddites may whisk in bowl. Preheat pans, add enough butter to coat the bottom of the pan and follow guidelines above.

Stuff with, well stuff. Valentines day, melted chocolate works well.

Lenten Gumbo

Dear Saucyman, On the occasion of this Mardi Gras, can you explain the appeal of Okra?

In Vegetables, author James Peterson warns us the world is divided about okra. In her similarly titled tome, Alice Waters skips the contentious veg altogether jumping from mustard greens to onions. People self-identify as okra-philes or okra-phobes at the slightest prodding.

For the haters: researchers believe texture plays a large part in food phobias and okra is frightening to those who abhor viscous foods. Often described as slimy, mucusy or less specifically as gross, the pod’s fuzzy and velvety exterior is just as troublesome to the phobic as the oozy interior that is lined with tiny seeds. Another common factor in food aversion is neophobia. Rats, both in lab and those studied in their more natural setting of urban alleys, have chosen to starve to death rather than try new foods. I imagine the same fate awaits drive-through denizens when ‘they’ take away the deep fat fryers. Okra needs to become more common in the food arena. Perhaps a good Public Relations rep, an active trade council or a few celebrity endorsers – The only food Paris Hilton puts in her mouth - might or might not help spread the popularity of the foodstuff.

To diminish the muciferous effect of Okra; choose pods no longer than 3 inches in length. As a general rule, Okra should be bright green and free of brown spots and other blemishes. The veg can be grown in the gardens of kind climates, found fresh in stores between March and October and located in frozen food section the rest of the year. For produce that suffers from texture issues, the freezing and thawing cycle removes the crunch but not the slokey/sludgy issue complainers find off-putting.

I put nearly a pound of the stuff into a gumbo recently, but okra’s use extends well beyond regional southern favorites: Both made at home and ordered in restaurants Bhindi masala is an Indian favorite featuring okra - dry sautéed in a mixture of spices. Pickled pods can be very good depending on the brine. Tossed in fine corn meal, deep-fried and served with a bottle of crystal hot sauce by its side - Okra can scratch an itch only the way good in a way that hot food and cold beer can. In the summer - small fresh pods cooked briefly with tomato, corn cut straight from the cob, garlic and thyme is an all time favorite.

Shrimp Gumbo

1/2 Stick Butter
¼ cup oil
½ cup All-Purpose Flour


One Onion, diced fine
2 qts water

3 ripe tomatoes – diced or one 12 oz can of diced tomatoes
4 – 6 cloves garlic
Add roughly 1 teaspoon and a half each of oregano, rosemary, thyme, cayenne to the pot
2 bay leaves


¾ to 1 pound okra - cut into 1 inch segments

1 red pepper cut into dime sized pieces
1 bunch green onions - chopped
2 stalks celery, cut into small pieces
1 pound cleaned Shrimp
2 Tablespoons chopped parsley
Salt and Pepper to taste

While thought and opinion are the lynchpins of passion, and people can be quite passionate about gumbo, the dish only suffers from strict interpretations. Gumbo is a fluid dish: Chicken, duck, crab, oyster, the herb – file, sausage, and/or fish can be all be part of a good gumbo. The flavors: the Cajun trinity of spices Onion, garlic and celery need to be represented. The Bell Pepper should be red and added with the green onion and celery right before service so they retain their texture.

The single most important aspect of the dish is the roux. The combination of flour and fat should be dark, dark, dark in color without becoming burnt. This takes time, high temperature increases the chance of scorching the roux. A thick pan – cast iron works well – placed on the lowest setting the stove has is the best strategy. Add the fat and flour and let it go, stirring occasionally for up to two hours. The color should be chocolaty, not milk chocolate, dark chocolate.

Once the color is close to the desired shade, add the onion and cook for an additional 15 minutes. When the roux/onion combo is ready, add the liquid. Water works well, a good homemade stock – shellfish, fish or vegetable compliments the dish while chicken stock overwhelms the subtlety of the flavors. And nothing, nothing from a can or concentrate should go in here.

Turn the heat up to medium and stir the liquid in slowly, add garlic, tomatoes with the herbs and spices. Reduce heat to low and let this mixture cook for 90 minutes to 2 hours. Add the chopped okra - cook for an additional 30 minutes over low heat. (Now is a good time to prepare some rice)

Return heat to medium and add the remaining ingredients. Once the shrimp turn pink, turn the heat off and serve. Rice, hot sauce, cold drink are all welcome additions to the table – happiness, however fleeting, ensues.

Blood Oranges

Saucyman, what is the deal with Blood Oranges?

Well there is the color. A slight blush warms the orange skin usually at the blossom end of the fruit. Cut open the interior is dyed a lovely maroon to rose hue.
The unique color of the fruit is made possible by presence of anthocyanins, a compound that develops more readily in the colder fall and winter night air. As far as the taste goes, the orange tastes like a more traditional orange with either some berry like nuances or perhaps better described as hints of pomegranate (pomegranatee, pomegrantesque?)


The fruit is available in stores from (mostly) December to March, with some fruit from Northern California available in the market until the late spring. The Blood Orange is possibly Chinese in origin or maybe owes its existence to a spontaneous mutation that occurred in 17th century Italy, (which at that point wasn’t Italy at all but a loose confederation of principalities). Grown as a minor crop in California and Texas, the Blood Orange is the main orange of Italy, particularly thriving in the chilly night/warm daytime air of Sicily.

Because of the presence of anthocyanins, Blood Oranges are higher in antioxidants than their more traditionally colored siblings. Coupled with the fact this cultivar is less likely to be processed in the form of concentrate - its juice might, possibly, maybe, conceivably be considered healthier than the standard OJ. A diet rich in beer nuts and late night drunken consumption of Taco Bell products will not be redeemed by a glass of organic blood orange juice in the morning.

That which makes us strong makes us vulnerable Anthocyanin Edition: Anthocyanins are responsible for the red, blue and purple colors in the plant world. According to Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking, there are about 300 different anthocyanin compounds known and “…a given fruit or vegetable will usually contain a mixture of a dozen or more.” Reactive to changes in ph and the presence of trace metals, anthocyanin compounds are also water-soluble - meaning any kind of cooking is going to wash that beautiful color out turning that original seductive, enticing, vibrant shade of red into an industrialish gray/pink color.

This thwarts a cook's desire to heat, extract, combine and alter ingredients, but there are plenty of uses for fresh blood oranges: Segments can grace a salad with red onions, lettuce and olive oil. Tossed with cilantro, cabbage & seared tuna and served on a corn tortilla the blood orange can be part of a fish taco. Squeezed over a piece of seared halibut or braised fennel, the fruit retains the magic of its color while offering a pleasant acidic balance.

Or the blood orange can be squeezed for its colorful juice, which can be turned into vinaigrette, with a little more work Blood Orange Sorbet or with a lot less work the juice can be the base of a drink.

The blood orange always has a home in a cocktail, where the color can shine through. Use the guidelines below to make a more colorful version of the uncomplicated Screwdriver, possibly a Bloody Screwdriver or because everything sounds better in Italian - Sanguinous Cacciavite:

Juice of 2 Blood Oranges
1 ½ ounces Vodka
4 Ice Cubes

Combine Together in a Cocktail Shaker, Shake-shake-shake, Shake-shake-shake, shake your shaker. Serve up* in a clear glass.
In this case, up means sans ice in a clear glass.