No collection of genres is complete without a recipe—that broad, yet strangely poignant, genre for culinary action.
So, here is my favorite summer recipe—elderflower cordial. There are a truckload of different recipes going around. Fortunately, the best one is also the simplest. Here is what you do.
You take an elderberry tree in bloom. Like this.
You collect a lot of flower heads. If you have access to volountary child labor, you are free to employ said child labor—under supervision—at this stage.
You then get out a large pot, and cut the elderberry flowers into slightly smaller pieces removing leaves and bugs from the mix, and put them in the pot.
How many flower heads? Well, how many did you cut down? They do not take up a lot of space, and the taste only suffers if you use too few. I use a lot.
Then it looks like this:
You add a lot of sugar.
How much? Well, how much can the pot take? Then it looks like this. There are five kg of sugar in there. Some people will tell you to use brown sugar; I much prefer white.
The trick here is a relation of ingredients. The amount of sugar your pot can take determines how much you can make. For each kg of sugar you need one lemon and 40 grams of citric acid. Remember to look around a bit for the citric acid. The price may vary wildly. Some people will tell you to use oranges. Don´t; it's a weak concept.
You add the citric acid, then it looks like this.
You slice the lemons and add them. Remember to use organic ones. You most definitely don´t want the pesticides from the non-organic ones in your cordial. Then it looks like this.
I want to emphasize that you should not—I repeat: not—add the voluntary child labor to the cordial; no matter how eager to join in said child labor appears to be. Mine is all for going in head first.
Then you boil a lot of water. It looks like this—but I guess you more or less knew that already.
You then pour the boiling water over the elderflower-sugar-lemon and citric acid in the first pot. Notice, that there's likely to be a lot of bubbles, so stay safe. Notice also, that there will be a lot of air pockets hiding in the sugar, so if you stir, you will cause the cordial to bubble, and allow the water level to drop so you to add more water. You'll need it; the cordial is very strong as it is.
(At this point, keep volontary child labor at a safe distance; it may be too eager for its own good.)
I have no picture of this. I was pouring boiling water...
But when the water has been poured it looks like this—and smells like heaven.
You put a lid on; let it cool down, and leave it in a cool place 4-5 days. Stir a few times a day. I have no pictures here, as I've only just made the cordial.
After that you pour it through a fine sieve and bottle it. Press the lemons and the elderflowers in the process. There's a lot of good cordial hiding in them. Remember to use a preservative or it will spoil. Some people freeze it instead; which is fine I guess. Except for the time I tried, and it leaked into my freezer. I had no idea what the word "sticky" actually meant before that.
Anyway, you dilute it with ice cold water and drink it. It's likely to be very strong, so have a sip before you serve it. If you add sparkling water instead, you have what my wife calls "champagne for alcoholics"; it's very good too, but definitely sharper. Some people will mix it into other drinks, but that's beyond my expertise. Do try—and tell me about it.
This, a summer day in the garden, and good company is as hygge as it gets for me.
My Dad used to make elderflower wine. We found there are two kinds of elderflowers, which look the same. One kind smells like cats' urine...
SvarSletI'm surprised anything with that much sugar in can spoil!
How did you learn to distinguish? I never smelt an elderflower I didn't like.
SvarSletIt spoils. Believe me it spoils. It either goes moldy, turns into ill tasting vinegar, or both. It really is quite nasty.