Hello from the Shakespeare in the Park cancellation line in Central Park, where I am one of two hundred or so people hoping to keep the late summer gloom away with free world class theatre. I just got home from Maine a few days ago and am, in fact, wearing a dress last washed in a lobster pot in the backyard of our cottage and hung to dry on a line. Excuse me for waxing poetic, but if you’ve ever spent any time in Maine, you know these doldrums. Hell, if you’ve ever taken a vacation, you know.
So what does this have to do with Blueberry Ginger Ales? Not a lot, I suppose. I started fooling around with this recipe mid-July in anticipation of our trip to Maine, but didn’t post it beforehand and now Maine has come and gone (though watch out for a mid-autumn sequel). I just wanted to make sure that you knew that you could make these seasonal homemade sodas before summer unofficially ends.
As with many of the homemade beverages you’ll find on this site, this recipe takes only a few minutes of active work—in this case, making a syrup and straining it—but makes plenty to enjoy. Simply pour some syrup over ice, top with seltzer, stir, and sip.
With a balanced berry flavor and a good spicy punch of ginger, Blueberry Ginger Ales would be a perfect booze-free addition to any menu. From end-of-summer festivities to lazy weekend afternoons, you really can’t go wrong. I mean, I could certainly go for one in this cancellation line.
Or at least I could have, because I ended up getting a ticket. Doldrums be gone.
Blueberry Ginger Ales
makes 8-12 small sodas
Blueberry Ginger Syrup:
1 5-7 inch piece fresh ginger (about 1/3 lb)
16 ounces (about 3 cups) fresh or frozen blueberries
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
pinch of salt
1 cup water
1 tablespoon lemon juice
For Blueberry Ginger Ales:
1 batch blueberry ginger syrup
2 large bottles sparkling water
For Serving:
ice
fresh blueberries (optional)
straws (optional)
On a cutting board, scrape the edge of a spoon across the ginger to peel. Discard peelings. Slice ginger as thinly as possible—you should have about 1 cup slices.
Combine ginger, blueberries, sugar, salt, and water in a small pot. Bring to a simmer over medium-low and then let cook, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes. It’s done when the berries have burst, sugar has dissolved, and the syrup coats the back of a spoon.
Remove from heat, mash berries a bit if needed (we want them all burst), and stir in lemon juice. Cool the syrup without straining. Once cool, strain ginger and blueberries out, pressing them to remove as much syrup as possible. Discard ginger and blueberries. You should have 1 1/2-2 cups syrup.
To make Blueberry Ginger Ales, add ice to your glasses. Pour about 3-4 tablespoons of syrup into each glass. Top with sparkling water, then stir to combine. Taste and adjust with more syrup or sparkling water as desired. Add a few blueberries for garnish, if desired. Pair with a cute straw and enjoy!
Leftover syrup will keep in an airtight container in the refrigerator for at least a week.
My friend, VJ, loves gingerbread. Loves it. She speaks often about how before she had to stop eating gluten and went vegan, her grandma used to serve hers with canned peaches and whipped cream. While I am not much for canned peaches, the 
Over the years, VJ has asked me to make gingerbread cakes for various milestones and occasions, but I have mostly failed. I even failed this past Thanksgiving! Too greasy, too dry, vaguely tarry, completely flavorless—I’ve made all the gingerbread cake failures under the sun. Let’s not discuss the occasion on which she had to serve store-bought ice cream cakes (that she couldn’t even eat!) at her own party because my attempt at this cake was so vile.
It’s not just because I like to have a gluten-free vegan item on my holiday line-up every year (which I do). It’s that VJ’s 40th birthday is next week—you know I can’t let my favorite gluten-free vegan’s milestone birthday pass without cake. No way. Not rain, nor sleet, nor masked and distanced delivery will stop me from getting this cake to her on December 23rd.
Holy crap, y’all, this is good. Super moist with nothing to distract from its deep dark flavor, it’s better than most traditional flour, egg and dairy-based gingerbreads I’ve had. It’s definitely not better than VJ’s grandma’s though, because nothing is ever better than grandma’s. Believe me, I’ve tried to out-do grandmas and it never goes well. But anyway… 
This Gingerbread Cake tows the line somewhere between holiday dessert and wintry everyday cake. It doesn’t need a blanket of frosting (although I think a little vegan 
It feels weird to be posting Fourth of July recipes because of literally everything, but I’m doing it anyway. I mean, none of them are red, white and blue…
Ginger Limeade is a perfect summery option for this weekend or any weekend. Crisp and light with a zippy ginger finish, Ginger Limeade would be a great addition to your (socially distanced) Fourth of July. It’s simple to make and a bit more sophisticated than your average non-alcoholic summertime beverage. I love a 
Ginger Limeade starts with a homemade ginger simple syrup. It’s as easy as combining sugar, water and sliced fresh ginger in a 1:1:1 ratio, simmering it and letting it steep until completely cool. You can use this syrup to make homemade ginger sodas, put it in milkshakes, or liven up some iced tea.
Today we’re combining the syrup with an equal part (1 1/3 cup) of fresh lime juice and a few cups of cold water, then pouring it over ice and floating lime slices on top. Yum!
As with most beverages, Ginger Limeade is easily customizable. I think the 1:1 ginger syrup to lime juice ratio allows both to shine, but feel free to adjust them up or down to your preference. If you want to jazz it up, use sparkling water instead of still.
Ginger Limeade is the sort of thing you can sip during a cocktail hour, have by the pool, or pour into a large mason jar and take to the beach. Not to be Debbie Downer, but keep in mind that lime juice can burn your skin when exposed to sun. Yes, really.
Hello, it’s me, your completely exhausted food blogger friend!
It’s been determined that our Christmas dinner dessert will be a 
The 
You could put 1 1/4 cup of any mix-in you like in this blondie batter and it’d bake up beautifully. I went with chocolate chips, dried cranberries and candied ginger because I had a little of all of those in my cookie mix-in cabinet—it’s as simple as that. It helps, of course, that chocolate, cranberries and candies ginger are both beautiful *and* sweet, tangy, delicious holiday fare. I mean, are these calling your name like they are mine?
I’ll be taking this Wednesday off posting because it’s Christmas (duh). I hope you have a wonderful holiday filled with good food and people you love. I’ll be back Friday with my last recipe of 2019 and probably some dog pictures.
Nobody throws a dinner party quite like my friend, David. He can make a multi-course meal for fifty without panicking for a second, and he’s been known to throw impromptu dinner & a movie nights for twenty without the slightest hesitation.
Both the man and his food are sophisticated without being pretentious—think ham smoked on his roof, cold salmon with dill & yogurt, habanero cheese grits, herby roasted potatoes, tomato & avocado salad with pesto, and a recipe for brussels sprouts that haunts my dreams. And that’s to say nothing of the things he can do with a Costco croissant and a bulb of fennel! I could go on, but the bottom line is that David makes unfussy food that is outrageously delicious, and if you are ever so lucky as to be invited for dinner at his apartment, you must must must go. If not for the main menu or the love of his three-legged cat, go for the Boterkoek.
If you have never heard of Boterkoek (pronounced “bow-ter-kook”), it’s Dutch for “butter cake,” and it’s about to be your new favorite dessert for any and all occasions. David is of Dutch descent and makes it frequently (usually from Heleen A.M. Halverhout’s 
As its name states, this cake is ridiculously buttery. It’s also sweet, simple, and the sort of thing that works just as well for dinner with friends as it does for delivering to new parents or keeping around to pick on over the course of a lazy weekend.
Boterkoek is made from a dough rather than a batter. It includes softened butter (duh), sugar, an egg, flour, vanilla and almond extracts, and minced candied ginger. There’s no leavener, but the final product isn’t terribly dense. I attribute that to beating the softened butter until it’s good and fluffy.
As with all of David’s go-to recipes, this one is decidedly unfussy. The most annoying part of making a Boterkoek is reserving a teaspoon of the beaten egg for brushing over the top of the cake. No bother, really. The thin layer of egg wash makes for a golden top, and a crosshatch pattern carved out with the tines of a fork gives way to crispy edges and a magazine-quality presentation.
I haven’t even mentioned the flavor! Boterkoek is rich and buttery with a touch of almond flavor and a little sharpness from the candied ginger. The texture falls somewhere between a cake, shortbread and a blondie—it’s best eaten with a fork when it’s warm, but can be handheld when it’s room temperature.
Boterkoek is what I like to call an everyday cake; it can be made easily with few ingredients, doesn’t require layering or frosting, and works for almost any casual occasion including, of course, a dinner party at David’s. Or, you know, watching Netflix in your oldest/best pajamas.
Either way, you shouldn’t skimp on the ice cream.
e2 bakes brooklyn 