Wednesday, July 30, 2008

White Wine Granita



I enjoyed the red wine granita inpired by Jude over at Apple Pie, Patis, & Pâté so much, that when I had nearly a whole bottle of pinot gris left over from a recipe I thought to use it in the same application. I'm not a huge fan of white wine for drinking, so this really would be the only way it would be drunk in my house, Husband doesn't drink at all. Of course the cinnamon and clove would seem a little out of place with white wine, in my opinion at least, so I omitted them from the recipe. I thought a star anise would've been a nice addition, but I forgot to order some in my last shipment and I wasn't about to purchase them from the grocery store. Not since finding out how old grocery store spices really are. Yech.

So, a funny story for you. I made the first batch of this using pinot gris, simmered it all up and tossed it in the freezer. Game over, right? Not so much. At about ten thirty that night I'm laying in bed reading when I get this great idea that I should have a cookie. That's always a great idea, plus I've still got a box of Thin Mints in my freezer left over from Girl Scout cookie season. So I prance out to my kitchen, open up the freezer door and pull out a couple cookies. Husband says something to me and I turn to answer him while shoving the cookies back in their hole in the freezer...thereby dislodging the granita on its precarious perch on some frozen hamburger buns. It flips over entirely, drenching the entire front of me, pouring down the front of the refrigerator and spilling all over my kitchen floor. At ten thirty at night. I was not a happy camper. I was a livid camper having murderous thoughts.

I was totally ready to be like 'The hell with this, I'm going to bed. I'll clean this up in the morning." Husband was sweet enough to mop up the floor for me. Game over, right? Not so much.

I get up the next morning, walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of OJ (the juice not the murderer) and notice the floor is still sticky. Boo. That means I have to mop the floor again. I grab a glass from the cupboard, walk to the refrigerator...and can't open the door. Wtf? I yank, doesn't budge. I use both hands, grab the door, plant my feet and pull as hard as I can - the fridge hops towards me a couple inches, but the door? Still not opening. I ended up having to pour warm water over the door seal to get the granita to loosen up enough to get the doors open. Game over finally, right? Oh no, had to do the freezer too.

Let's just say it was a true test of my character to attempt this again. Okay, to be fair, it wasn't a test of character. It was my being a stubborn Taurus. I'm sorry, this damn white wine granita pissed me off. It's getting made, whether it wants to be or not. I don't even like white wine and wouldn't buy it if I didn't need it for recipes. But not this time, no sirree. This sumbitch done ticked me off. I determinedly drove to the grocery store, bought a bottle of chardonnay, oranges and lemons and came right home and remade it.

Verdict? Meh. If you like white wine, you'll love it. And hey, if you try it, add the star anise and let me know how it is.



White Wine Granita

500 ml white wine
2/3 cup sugar
zest and juice of 1 orange
zest and juice of 1 lemon

1. Combine all ingredients in a sauce pan, heat over medium-low until sugar dissolves.

2. Strain if desired, place in freezer until frozen and slushy.

3. Get all liquored up.


P.S. Game over.

P.P.S. And yes, I really am the type of person that will cut off their nose to spite their face - as long as it's satisfying.

2 comments:

Jude said...

Sorry to hear about your late night accident. Sticky floors suck.
Star anise sounds like a great idea. I'll try it when I get a chance.

Sweet Bird said...

jude - agh! I feel like a total doofus. I totally should've given you credit in this post too! I shall remedy this at once.

After all, if you hadn't introduced me to the red wine version...

P.S. I will admit I silently cursed virtual you while I was mopping my floor - that granita was just sooo good.