Butter & Scotch
301 pages

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Butter & Scotch , livre ebook


Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris
Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus
301 pages

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus


The team behind Brooklyn's popular dessert and cocktail bar brings you Butter & Scotcha ';Dominique Ansel meets Broad City' boozy look at dessert. At Brooklyn's Butter & Scotch, everything is made by hand, and seasonal, inventive flavors are created to satisfy any sweet toothespecially those with a penchant for spirits. In their namesake cookbook, Allison Kave and Keavy Landreth dish up more than 75 recipes for incredible desserts, cocktails, and creations that shake up the traditional approach to booze and sweets. From buttery, cinnamon-y Magic Buns for breakfast to gourmet Hot Toddies at evening's end,Butter & Scotchprovides recipes for any time of day. The book is packed with popular recipes: world-renowned S'mores Bars, Dark & Stormy Cocktail Caramel Corn, Pie Milkshakes, Maple Bacon Cupcakes, and yes, even Jell-O shots. In addition to recipes, Kave and Landreth share the basics behind their recipesthe techniques, ingredients, and essential equipment needed to make the desserts and cocktails. They also suggest pairings, offer base recipes for creative experimentation, and tell you exactly how to cook with alcohol. This cookbook combines two things people love to indulge inconfections and cocktails. Butter & Scotch is a grown-up's dream come true. Also available from Allison Kave: First Prize Pies.



Publié par
Date de parution 13 septembre 2016
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781613122174
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 7 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,1078€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.


For our mothers
In the Beginning . . .
How We See It: Our Baking Boozing Philosophy
The Basics
Cakes, Pies, Toppings Cocktails
Cake Stuff
Vanilla Cupcakes
Chocolate Cupcakes
Dark Chocolate Frosting
Keavy s Favorite Vanilla Frosting
Pie Crust
All-Butter Pie Crust
Graham Cracker Crust
Ice Cream Toppings
Hot Fudge
Classic Caramel Sauce
Marshmallow Sauce
Crushed Toffee
Whipped Cream
Candied Pecans
Behind the Bar
Simplest Simple Syrup
Rich Simple Syrup
Honey / Hot Honey Simple Syrup
Molasses Simple Syrup
Hibiscus-Clove Syrup
Tea Syrup
Basic Infusion
Quick Infusion
Brown Butter Scotch
Magic Buns
Apple-Cheddar Turnovers
Allison s Oatmeal
Brooklyn Biscuits
Deli-Style Bacon, Egg Cheese
Biscuits Gravy
Sweet Savory
Smoked Trout Benedict
Strawberry Shortcake
Yorkshire Popovers
Strawberry-Basil Jam
Winter Citrus Marmalade
Passion Fruit Curd
Rhonda s Green Chile Cornbread
Mama T s Tuna Quiche
Maple-Bacon Cupcakes
Crown Heights Coffee
Pepsi Milk
Hair of the Dog Michelada
Bloody Mary Gets Fresh
Maria Verde
Yellow Snapper
Pickled Beets Onions
Gibson Onions
Spicy String Beans
Cumin Carrots
Happy Hour
S mores Bars
Kings County Corn Bowl Sundae
Negroni Pie
Watchamacallthat Pie
Twin Peaks Special
Pretty in Pink
ROOT Beer Float
Apple Pie Float
Hot Buttered Scotch
Peppermint Patty
Porto Quente
Rhonda s Ruby Toddy
Bitter Medicine
Literally Figuratively
Grilled Pineapple
Menta Make a Julep
Rhubarb Sour
Lady Boss Daiquiri
Union Street Collins
The Mary Ellen
Classic Hot Fudge Sundae
Dry Vodka Martini
Make It Sparkle
Birthday Cake
Milk a Cookie
White Russian
Salted Chocolate Chip Cookies
Concord Gin Fizz
Peanut Butter Pie
Eggnog Pudding
Pie ( Cake Cookie) Shake
Cheese Puffs
Sticky Toffee Trifle
Tequila King Cake
Brownie Sundae
The Rockford Peaches
F*ck the Pain Away
Honeychile Rider
Japanese Scot
Rita Bernie
Ariel s Song
La Epifan a
Late Night
Pimento Cheese
Sesame-Chile Popcorn
Dark Stormy Caramel Corn
Hot Toddy Caramel Corn
Green Chile Margarita Caramel Corn
The Nameshake
El Duderino
Rock Rye
If You Like Pi a Coladas
Ramos Gin Fizz
Disco Nap
Blood Sand
Teaches of Peaches
Rum Punch
Eff You, V-Day
Ice Crushing
Butter Scotch Playlist
Index of Searchable Terms

In the Beginning
When I was four, my parents found me hiding in our living room closet, parked between the broom and the vacuum, chugging a bottle of maple syrup.
At five, my mom taught me how to make risotto. She would pull up a stool, hand me a wooden spoon, and I would stir for hours without budging or ever getting bored.
In second grade, my teacher went around the room and asked each of us what we wanted to be when we grew up. I proudly answered that I was planning to work part-time at McDonald s and part-time at Burger King-I couldn t bear to pick just one.
When I was seven, I discovered the joys of recipe testing. I would raid the kitchen cabinets, pulling out everything that appealed to me: flour, white chocolate (which I would end up eating before it got into the batter), eggs, honey, sugar, fruit, and whatever else was at arm s reach. I would pile everything into a big bowl and mix, not knowing or caring about measurements. Nothing ever turned out quite right, and my mess, as my mother still never tires of reminding me, was never cleaned.
At eight, I discovered my entrepreneurial spirit in the form of a lemonade stand. I would set up the stand every day with my friend Laura. We would hold up signs bigger than our bodies and scream at the few cars that passed down the small side street in front of my house. We would fruitlessly try to sell lemonade, never giving up hope, even when hours would pass without a single sale.
When I entered middle school, I became obsessed with Lynne Rossetto Kasper s cookbook, The Splendid Table , and turned every homework assignment into a culinary adventure. When studying the Renaissance, I brought in a giant platter of tagliatelle with caramelized oranges and almonds, and for our lessons on Mexico, I baked off a pan de muerto the size of one of the school desks. My essays received Cs, but I discovered that food was a wonderful way to make friends.
In high school, I tried my hand at bartending: mixing vodka with Snapple, doing shots of dark rum and Malibu, or drinking peach schnapps straight from the bottle. This new hobby led me to be grounded for most of my high school years. My mom would look at me and furiously tell me I wasn t allowed out of the house for the next two weeks, and I would look back, smile, and say, Okay, what are we cooking?
When I was seventeen, I got my first job as a line cook at a popular restaurant in my hometown, Mount Vernon, Washington. The second day on the job, I chopped the top of my finger off dicing jalape os. Blood squirted everywhere, and the front-of-house staff screamed as they watched me toss the tip of my finger into the garbage. I wound up getting a bandage on my middle finger that was twice as long as my actual finger, but I didn t care; I had my first war wound, and I couldn t have been happier. I worked doubles on school nights, blasting Ani DiFranco s Dilate while scrubbing down low-boys. I smoked pot with the prep cook in the dry goods section of the basement before making veggie burgers, which, if I remember correctly, took me at least ten hours. I befriended the night baker, who would let me help her bake after I had clocked out for the evening, filling me in on all the restaurant gossip.
And after many more glorious and not-so-glorious years in the food industry, at thirty, I found myself having drinks with Allison, discussing our future retail location. We wanted something that was different than your typical bakery: a place that was edgy but built around nostalgia, where our desserts and drinks had integrity, but also a sense of humor. A place that was friendly and inviting but at times could be a little debaucherous. We wanted a place that was just like us.

As soon as I learned of its existence, I begged and begged my mom for an Easy-Bake Oven.
This was back in the eighties, and she was hardly a helicopter mom, but for some reason, she got it into her head that the tiny 100-watt lightbulb that magically brought little cakes to life would hopelessly disfigure me (or burn our house down). I never got my Easy-Bake Oven (though I have nearly succumbed to impulse-buying one for myself on many a late-night internet browse), but perhaps that unfulfilled desire is what brought me to my present profession.
My mom s concern for my safety might be perceived as bizarrely sporadic: No toy ovens allowed, but whenever I d get a little cold, she d whip up some extremely potent hot toddies in lieu of NyQuil. On a visit back to my birthplace in New Mexico, we went on a family hike, and when my parents realized they d forgotten to pack any water for me and my brother, we all shared a family wineskin. I developed my taste for whiskey and wine from a young age, and it s served me quite well.
We were lucky to travel extensively as a family, and one year we spent the holidays in Champagne, France (you know, where Champagne comes from!). It was there that I experienced my first bite of foie gras, and then my second, and then my fortieth. I couldn t stop eating the stuff and wound up with a stomach of regret late that evening.
Despite this seemingly sophisticated palate, the first time I ever got really drunk (outside of the family home), I was fourteen, majorly crushing on a cute sophomore, and we found ourselves at a home-coming party, with the last pick from the home bar that everyone was raiding. All that we could salvage was a bottle of green cr me de menthe. We passed it back and forth, enjoying the minty, slippery liqueur and exchanging swoony, green-toothed smiles. I experienced my first hangover the next day and swore off cr me de menthe for many years to come.
Perhaps you re seeing a pattern here? The Robert Heinlein quote under my high school yearbook photo read, Everything in excess! To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. (Yes, I was a nerd who read Heinlein in high school). Indulgence, and overindulgence, were the name of the game for me for many years (name a vice, any vice, and odds are I ve sampled it).
Now that I m all grown up and responsible, I try to temper my indulgences with a bit of moderation, but I m not always successful. I ve made my job about pleasure: both mine and my patrons . I do not eat simply to survive. I do everything I can to avoid eating something mediocre just because I m hungry. I want to enjoy every bite that I put in my mouth, and I aim every day to provide that enjoyment for our customers.
Keavy and I decided to open not just a bakery, and not just a bar, but a bar and bakery, because we knew that such a place ought to exist. Why enjoy a massive slice of birthday cake on its own when you can alternate bites with sips of bright, bubbly cava? Why dunk your chocolate chip cookie in a glass of milk when you can dunk it in a White Russian? Butter Scotch is a place where you can say YES to whatever crazy indulgence you want to experience. You want a vanilla milkshake with a shot of tequila and a slice of Key lime pie swirled in? Yes, we will happily make that for you (and great idea, by the way).
After all the time we ve spent thinking about, talking about, and building this place, it s incredibly re

  • Univers Univers
  • Ebooks Ebooks
  • Livres audio Livres audio
  • Presse Presse
  • Podcasts Podcasts
  • BD BD
  • Documents Documents