I was looking for an old-school cocktail to enjoy while rooting the Cubs toward their first World Series title since 1908 when what should I find but the Chicago Cocktail!

This one may not go back to 1908, but it definitely predates 1930, when it was first in print. Considering how Al Capone's Chicago was awash in Canadian whisky during Prohibition, this brandy-based concoction probably predates that dark period as well. 

Here's something peculiar about the Chicago: the recipe calls for an old-fashioned glass, but the whole drink is little more than 2 ounces, so use the smallest old-fashioned glass you have, or make it a double! 

The recipe that I saw was very old (around 1900). It called for cognac. I tried this with a very good Pierre Ferrand cognac and also with the Christian Brothers VSOP brandy that I use for holiday baking due to its strong vanilla overtones.

The brandy version was better; the other was a waste of good cognac. I think this is because the old recipe was created during a time when brandy might be any fruit-derived spirit, some truly bad, while cognac was a guarantee of the grape spirit. Today even the cheapest brandy is derived from grape wine unless noted otherwise, so I think the cheap modern brandy is an adequate substitute for the cautious cognac in the original recipe.

I learned this simple late-summer delight from my father. It responds well to different varieties of heirloom tomatoes. 

In southern Italy, where this recipe originated, they use the famous sweet Red Onions of Tropea. Those are indeed very mild and sweet, and they are unavailable in New England.

Instead of using supermarket red onions, I use Vidalia onions, which I find nearly as mild and sweet even if they lack the red color. 

Use a good quality olive oil, and if you cannot get fresh oregano, use dried oregano but infuse it in the oil for an hour or so before serving.

This variation on the classic, pungent, and beautiful Negroni is made with whiskey instead of gin. This one was beautiful with a rich, smooth Split Rock white whiskey. The clear whiskey lets the outrageous reds shine through, and the "hearts only" Split Rock has none of the harshness that you find in other white whiskeys. 

I also made this with Martini & Rossi Sweet Vermouth that had been aged for four weeks in a charred oak cask. I think Carpano Antica is the closest substitute. It's pricey, and it's not right for every cocktail, but every serious cocktailian should keep a bottle of Carpano Antica in the fridge. 

This classic chilled summer soup is simple to make and full of delicate summer flavors. The recipe is simple, but it allows for infinite artistic expression. 

This is one of those recipes that can be made vegetarian or not (you can use chicken stock or vegetable stock), but the vegetarian version is in no way inferior.  

This is a Perfect Martini (that is, equal parts sweet vermouth and dry vermouth instead of all dry vermouth) with orange juice for sweetness and complexity.

I enjoy the Bronx Cocktail in the summer, or anytime during a Yankees game!

Because of the sweet vermouth and the orange juice, this works well with a wide variety of gins, including some of the more daring new American gins. 

This is a very old drink that has gained new celebrity. The inspired combination of white rum (or aguardiente), lime, mint, and sugar has been traced to a 16th century drink borrowed from indigenous Cubans. At that time it was intended to cure scurvy and dysentery. Today it is made with finer versions of the same refreshing combination of ingredients, and its uses are more recreational than medicinal!

Irish pancakes are not like American pancakes. They are thinner, closer to a crepe than to a big fluffy American pancake, with no baking powder. They are typically served with honey or jam, or brushed with lemon juice and dusted with sugar.

Pancakes figure prominently in the Irish celebration of Shrove Tuesday, or Mardi Gras, which they also call Pancake Tuesday. This is the day to use up all the eggs and fat in the house to prepare for the Lenten fast. My mother's side of our family still makes pancakes on Shrove Tuesday!

This was one of those inventions born of necessity. Lorna had bought a lovely piece of cod, but I did not have the ingredients for my usual preparation.

I remembered a wonderful light fish dish that I had had in Xrisohorafa, a lakeside village in remote northern Greece on a similarly hot night many years ago, a simple preparation of fish with olive oil and lemon juice, with some parsley and sea salt. I had some butter on the table so I used that instead of olive oil; it was a fortuitous substitution. 

Svíčková na smetaně (hereafter simply svickova) is classic Czech home cooking, but it is often made for fine dining events as well.

It's a braised sirloin of beef with a sauce of pureed vegetables and cream, traditionally served with fluffy knedlicky (bread dumplings sliced with a thread).

I made this with my Czech friend Jana in November of 2015, when the coming winter made her think of her father's Svickova back home in Prague!