A Shrub Is Not Just a Bush

In yet another example of the old saw "it isn't what you know, but who you know that counts" my neighbor Bill, he of the pickled onions, bourbon cocktails and massive garden, has been evangelizing on the topic of shrubs ever since I'd met him. No, not "shrub" as in a bushy landscaping plant, but a fermented vinegar syrup made by combining fruit and flavoring ingredients like spices or herbs with vinegar.

See? Not hard at all!

I was finally inspired to dive in when I visited him in his kitchen and he showed me a bowl of cubed cantaloupe he'd mixed with sugar that was sitting on the counter, and a separate bowl of mint that had been bruised and combined with some white wine vinegar.

"Okay, now, that doesn't seem to scary, " I said to myself. And when he mentioned that all that remained to do was to leave it out overnight, then strain the solids off, combine them in a jar, and let it sit for a couple of weeks in the fridge, I got that heady feeling I remember from my childhood when I rode a two-wheeler for the first time.

So stay tuned for more shrubs made with different fruit—I'm jonesing to try it with the Ayers Creek Farm's Chester blackberries I have stashed in the freezer—and ideas for using it in "acidulated beverages."

Bill's Cantaloupe and Mint Shrub

1 1/2 lbs. cantaloupe
3/4 c. sugar
3/4 c. white wine vinegar
1/2 c. mint leaves

In a medium-sized non-reactive mixing bowl, combine the cantaloupe with the sugar. Cover and allow to macerate on the counter overnight.

Put the mint in a small non-reactive mixing bowl, add vinegar and muddle lightly to release oils. Leave on counter overnight.

Strain off liquids from both bowls and pour into lidded quart jar. (Lid should be slightly loose to release gasses.) Place in refrigerator for two weeks. Shake periodically, tightening lid before shaking. Loosen lid again when replacing in refrigerator.

* * *

"Bring Me a Shrubbery"
From Bill Rash

2 oz. bourbon
1 oz. shrub (above)
1/2 oz. lime
Mint sprig (optional)

Fill a cocktail shaker 3/4 full of ice. Add ingredients. Shake and strain into coupe glass. Garnish with sprig of mint.

* * *

And for a non-alcoholic drinking vinegar-based beverage, try this:

Refreshing Shrub Soda

2 oz. shrub
Club soda
Lemon wedge

Fill beverage glass with ice. Pour in shrub, then fill with club soda and stir to combine. Squeeze lemon wedge into the glass and drop it in.

Rye Not?

Who would have thought when we moved into a new neighborhood that, two decades later, we would be fortunate to have so many talented and generous neighbors? Granted, when we moved from our Sellwood house, we were simply looking for more room for our (rapidly) growing child, and there were portents that its 1,100 square feet was not going to fit any of our needs. But that move, into a bungalow-thick, middle-class section of northeast Portland, turned out to be just what we needed on multiple fronts.

One neighbor is a chef and cooking school instructor, and we got somewhat used to having pizzas handed over the back fence on lazy summer evenings. Another is a prodigious cookbook author who calls when she's testing recipes for her books, knowing we're open for just about whatever she's got coming out of her oven. Yet another is a prodigious gardener when he's not teaching middle school science, and is keen to share the fruits (and vegetables) of his labors.

Bill, the gardener, is also a wine and cocktail whiz. He and his wife had Dave and I over the other night for cocktails, which he created on the spot, while we talked about garden plans, shrubs—not the plants but the "acidulated beverage" resembling a vinegared syrup that is used in cocktails—and recent travels. The aforementioned cocktail was a rye-based concoction, one we'll be putting on our summer-in-the-back-yard rotation. Now we just need to have a pizza handed over the fence…

Rye Not?

1.5 oz. rye
.75 oz. cardamaro
.5 oz. Clear Creek pear brandy
.5 oz. fig shrub or a fruit-flavored drinking vinegar

Fill cocktail mixing glass 1/2 full of ice. Add ingredients. Stir well to combine. Strain into glass.

Ho Ho Ho!

Wishing all of you and yours a very happy holiday, full of love and laughter. Thanks for reading!

Here's the Halloween version of my favorite neighborhood shrubbery.

This Cute Dude Says Happy Halloween!

Couldn't resist the sweet smile and the twinkly eyes on this fellow as I passed by on my morning walk. Perhaps a rock-dwelling cousin of Oscar the Grouch?

Shrubs Growing in Portland Bars

It hasn't hit an episode of Portlandia yet, but drinking vinegars and their close relatives known as shrubs are taking over some of the city's toniest bar tops. The shrub has been around since the 17th century or so when vinegar was used to preserve fruits and berries for use in the winter. The fruit would be left to infuse the vinegar, then the fruit would be strained off and the resulting liquid would be sweetened with honey or sugar to make a syrup. It could then be mixed with water or soda to make a soft drink, or with alcohol to make a cocktail.

The advent of refrigeration made this method of preservation unnecessary, but in the last few years the shrub has experienced a resurgence among bartenders who are making their own syrups and bitters. A recent visit with Raven & Rose bar manager Dave Shenaut gave a glimpse into the process of making this shout-out to his predecessors of yore, as well as a recipe for a mighty fine cocktail to be featured on the specials board at that establishment. (Shenaut warns, however, that there is a limited quantity of the syrup, so get it if you see it on the board.)

The recipe for the shrub calls for medlars, an unusual fruit that was popular in the Victorian era but, like the vinegary shrub, fell out of fashion, perhaps because of its extreme astringency. Chef David Padberg, also of Raven & Rose, got a delivery of these fruits from a uniquely named fellow, Tremaine Arkley, who grows the equally arcane quince on his farm in Independence, Oregon. His experiments with the strange fruit resulted in several new applications, including this shrub. (Read a more complete description of medlars and their Shakespearean bona fides in Padberg's post, What to do with a Medlar?)

As You Like It

For the medlar shrub:
4 c. medlars
2 c. demerara sugar
2 c. muscat vinegar

For the cocktail:
3/4 oz. madeira
1 1/2 oz. pisco
1/2 oz. medlar shrub
Splash of Bittermen's Orange Cream Citrate

The medlars, like other astringent fruits such as persimmons and loquat, should be so ripe that they're mushy, or bletted, when used. In a large glass jar or other glass container combine the bletted medlars with the sugar. Cover and let sit in a cool, dark place for 24 hours. Add the vinegar and stir until the sugar dissolves, cover and let sit for a week or so in a cool, dark place. After a week, pass the mixture through a food mill, then strain through cheesecloth or a fine mesh strainer to remove most of the organic matter. Taste and adjust the sweetness. Store in the refrigerator for another week until the vinegar flavor mellows.

For the cocktail, fill a mixing glass half full of ice. Add madeira, pisco, the shrub and the splash of orange cream. Stir for a minute or so to chill and serve up with a twist of lemon.

Photo of medlar, top, by David Padberg.