Sloe Gin

It's properly November now.  Winter in the air, temperatures dropping, the heating is properly on (yes, it needs more than an extra jumper), hot drinks are de rigueur,  Christmas lights are blinking into action, and we’ve had the first frosts of the year.

 

What's that you say?  First frosts?  Can only mean one thing: sloe-gin-making-season is upon us.

 

 

Making sloe gin – in fact, making any kind of liqueur, pickle, jam, chutney, conserve, etc – I find remarkably satisfying.  There's something so wonderfully homey, so fantastically back-to-basics, down-to-earth about using some ancient and time honoured tradition to preserve flavours and fruits, creating a whole new concoction from the raw materials you have to hand at the time.

 

A few weeks ago I did damson gin.  This recipe is basically the same, albeit with sloes and a little less sugar.  Both recipes are adapted from the Cottage Smallholder blog, which is fantastic and a must-read for anyone looking to make fruit infusion liqueurs. 

 

What's more, this has been a bumper year for sloes.  We wandered off to a blackthorn bush we know of nearby and found it positively drooping under the weight of all the fruit – the amount I've made was not the total of the bush's produce; it was the amount picked by the time the pickers got fed up.

 

 

Ingredients:

 

450g Sloes
75ml Gin
150g Sugar
Small handful of blanched almonds (Sadly, GG is allergic to nuts, so I left this out – but it's generally accepted that this brings a touch of magic to sloe gin.  Also, you can add three drops of almond essence on bottling, if you prefer.)

 

1.5 litre kilner jar for steeping

 

First thing first – I just made the requisite amount from the sloes I had (1,456 grams...) so the pictures show a quantity far outstripping the amounts above.  I just keep the proportions the same.  Second, this will produce a less sweet and sickly concoction.  If you like it sweeter, taste it after straining and add sugar to fit your preferences. 

 

Second: Choice of gin is not too important.  Don’t go for really, really cheap gin – it's flavoured artificially – so what's the point in making flavoured gin if all you're doing is masking artificial flavourings?  But don’t spend too much on it.  I generally use supermarket brand gin, which is good enough (although having said that, it's probably artificial...).  I also had a rummage around the spirits cupboard and found quite a few almost-empty bottles to use up.  Someone will probably say you shouldn’t go mixing gin, but meh.  Also, vodka works equally well with both recipes – last year we made damson vodka, not gin – but we went for gin this time around.

 

 

1. Pick your sloes.  As ever, please don’t go stealing fruit from other people's trees – you never know whether they plan on doing exactly the same thing, and there's nothing more depressing than going to a carefully nurtured patch only to find that someone's nicked all your fruit.  Just ask the landowner – you can even offer a bottle of the finished product by way of payment, if you're feeling generous.

 

Sloes are seriously beautiful fruit, too. 

 

 

And perfect for Instagram-ing...

 

 

Before you go any further, now's a good time to clean them thoroughly.  Pluck out their little stalks and remove all the leaves.  I forgot to do this, and it turned into a bit of a nightmare later on.  Remember, if you leave this stuff in it will infect the flavour of the finished gin.

 

2. Freeze the sloes overnight.  This does one thing with two bonuses: It the freezing juice bursts all the little cells inside, leading to: One, the release of more juice; and two, it simulates the frosts, breaking down the cellulose inside which (I understand, although only vaguely) improves the flavour.  This year the sloes came early, so I couldn’t really wait until they'd been properly punished by the frosts.  Fiona at Cottage Smallholder ran an experiment to see what produced the best sloe gin – sloes frozen by the frost, sloes frozen in the freezer, or sloes unfrozen altogether.  The result was the frosts, but the freezer in second.  So unless you're in a position (a) second guess what the weather might do; and (b) be on hand to pick them as soon as the frosts have arrived, this method seems the best bet.

 

I simply packed them all into freezer bag and lay flat in the freezer for overnight.

 

 

They came out looking fantastic.  You can almost taste the wonderfully, Christmassy spirit already. 

 

 

 

Whilst they're frozen they're like little marbles – they're the right size, and they sound, look, feel and roll like little marbles.  Ever so cool.

 

3. Defrost them thoroughly.  Laying them flat on a baking tray helps speed this up. 

 

4. You need to prick your sloes.  Some people say that freezing them does this for you, but I'm not really satisfied with that, to be honest.  So get out a cocktail stick (or several), put on an apron and get picking.

 

They are squirty little blighters, so be careful – don’t do this kind of work over an antique table whilst sitting on a cream coloured sofa.  Like we did.

 

 

Once you're done, you should have a bowl full of sloes and they're juice.  Don’t waste anything by washing up the bowl now.  I pour a glassful of gin in there, give it a rinse, and add it to the steeping jar to capture all the – but I'm getting ahead of myself...

 

 

5. Tip all the sloes into the jar.  Add the sugar and your almonds (if using them).  Pour the gin over the top.  Keep the bottles – you'll see why below. 

 

 

Seal and give it a shake.

 

 

6. Now go stick it in a cupboard, shaking daily for the first week or so, until all of the sugar has dissolved. 

 

7. Leave it alone.  Seriously.  This brew needs a good six months, minimum.  Leaving it too long will ruin the flavour, sure, but that's unlikely to happen until they've had a year or more. 

 

8. At the end of the steeping time, strain and bottle (told you you'd need those bottles).  Strain it through a fine cheesecloth or muslin.  Don’t be tempted to squeeze the bag – it won’t do any good, and will only add sediment, which you don’t want.  If you have the time, leave it to drip overnight.

 

I actually did last year's batch a few weeks back, so here are some pictures of that process.

 

After ten months in a cupboard...

 

...strained...

...and bottled for maturation.

 

9. Now it needs time to mature – sorry, but really does.  Leave it another six months, minimum.  Remember – you're making sloe gin for next Christmas, not this Christmas.

 

10. Drink.  A fantastic cocktail is what a friend of mine calls the Sloegasm: A measure of sloe gin topped up with Champagne or prosecco or Cava or English fizz – basically, an English Kir Royale.

 

 

 

 - GrubsterBoy -

 

PS: As a quick note: This sloe gin is made by simply steeping the sloes in gin for a long time.  There is an alternative method that involves fermentation.  But I'm saving that for next year.

Damson Gin

If you’ve been lurking around in the country recently, you may well have come across a bush covered in what looks like lots of little, purple plums.  If you’ve been particularly foolhardy, you may have plucked one and given it a try, spitting out the flesh that is described as having a “distinctive, somewhat astringent taste”.  If this sounds like you, then you’ve probably stumbled upon a damson bush.  They look a bit like this:

If Edwin Starr questioned “war, what is it good for?” then, over the years, I expect many a horticulturalist has asked the same of the damson.  Fortunately, unlike Edwin’s refrain, ‘quite a lot’ is the answer.

Growing wild in abundance throughout its native England, the humble damson is – in most cases, although I’m told that there are some sweeter varieties – inedible in their raw state.  They have, therefore, become the subject of countless pickles, chutneys, preserves, jams, etc.  GrubsterMummy, for example, does an exceptional in canned damsons, stewing them in all manner of spices, sugars and vinegars, which then preserve them, seemingly for time immemorial, ready to be dug out and applied liberally to any cold meat or hard cheese.

I am not, GrubsterMummy, however, so when I hear of damsons my mind immediately drifts to gin.  That’s right, damson gin. 

A bit like sloe gin, but without quite as much sugar (the humble damson, despite it’s tartness, being slightly sweeter than the acrid sloe), steeping damsons in cheap gin for an unreasonable period will create a delightful liqueur.  Here’s how:

Ingredients:

150g granulated sugar

500g damsons

75cl gin (or vodka, which I did last year.  I’ll let you know which one’s better once this has matured!)

You’re also going to need a big ass kilner jar for this – at least 1.5 litres.  The damsons take up quite a lot of room, and you got to get a whole bottle of gin in there.  To give you an idea, the jar I use in the pictures is 3 litres – and I’m doubling the recipe (and adding a little bit, but whatever).

A word on sourcing damsons (it’s not like you’ll find them on the supermarket shelf): A colleague at work recently bemoaned a glut of damsons she was living through, so I got mine free.  If you have access to a bit of country, you might be able to forage – but (a) make sure you’re absolutely certain you’re picking damsons – never, never, never eat something wild if you’re not positive what it is; and (b) please ask before stripping other people’s fruit trees!  You never know, they may be just about to do the same thing...

By the way, this recipe is adapted from Cottage Smallholder, which is a fantastic blog if you're in the mood for making any kind of fruit-based liquer.  If you want to do it, chances are that Fiona's got there first.

1. Wash the damsons, discarding any that have split or are badly bruised, and let them dry on a tea towel.  Simultaneously, sterilize the jar.  The easiest way to do this, I find, is to pre-heat the oven to 130°C, wash the jar well in hot water, and let dry.  Once dry, remove the rubber seal, and leave the jar upside down in the oven for 20 minutes.  Remove (with oven gloves!) and leave somewhere safe to cool.  Careful to avoid getting your grubby mitts all over it now...

2.  Each damson needs to be pricked, which is a right pain.  Just wait until we do sloe gin, though – they’re a lot smaller, and there are a lot more of them, so count ya blessings.  I find that gripping each one top and tail and revolving it whilst stabbing it with a fork is both an efficient and satisfying approach.  Drop each one into the jar once pricked.

3.  Add the gin and the sugar, seal the puppy up (don’t forget the rubber seal) and give it a good shake.  Keep those gin bottles (seriously).

On the gin front, I just used the budget version from Sainsburys.  I genuinely think that this recipe gains absolutely nothing from spending a lot on gin.

4. For the first few weeks it needs to be agitated every day or so.  I don’t mean that you need to make rude jokes about it and shove it around the playground – that’s a different kind of agitation.  No, it needs to be gentle mixed – I do this by rocking it back and forth.  You’ll notice the colour change each day as you go through the process.

Left to right: Zero days, one day, three days, one week.

Agitate regularly until there’s no more sugar residue at the bottom of the jar.

5. Wait.

6. No, seriously.  You need to wait at least three months now – preferably six.  Make sure your jar is kept in a cool, dark place.  We use the cupboard under the stairs – no need for a wine cellar or anything like that, although if have one it can't hurt.

7. In three months time, remember it’s still there.  This is actually harder than it sounds – last year I forgot it for nine months.   Oops.  Still, no harm done – although I’m told that  forgetting about it can lead to it taking on a nasty, metallic almond flavour – which, presumably, it gets from the stones.  So try to remember it. 

8. Once you have remembered, pass it through a muslin cloth.  Resist the temptation to squeeze it – otherwise you’ll end up with a lot of nasty gunk at the bottom of your bottle.  Then bottle it – you see why I had you keep the bottles?  But, here’s the rub: the liqueur is now all of the gin plus the damson juice and the sugar.  So it aint never gonna fit in your original bottle.  So make sure you’re prepared for this – by sourcing a spare bottle.

9. Wait.  Again.

10. No, seriously, wait again.  It needs to mature in the bottle.  Hey, I never said this was a quick process, did I?  No, you’re basically making 2013 vintage for winter 2014.  Another 3 months or so as a bare minimum should do the trick.

And that’s it.  Stick the stuff in bottles and give it as Christmas presents, or just glug it down.

 - GrubsterBoy -