
Chef Thomas
A Proper Hot Toddy
A winter glass of whisky, honey, and lemon, stirred together in a warm mug and carried up to bed when the cough won't leave and the evening has asked you politely to stop.
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A slow autumn ritual that turns a glut of sharp purple plums into a bottle of ruby warmth, ready to pour on dark December evenings when the kitchen smells of woodsmoke and the year is winding down.
Damsons arrive in September and they don't stick around. A brief, sharp, dark little fruit with a stone that won't let go and a skin that puckers the mouth if you try to eat one raw. Useless for most things. Perfect for this.
I make damson gin every year, without fail, in the first proper week of autumn when the mornings have turned cold enough to wear a jumper in the kitchen. It's not really a recipe. It's three ingredients in a jar, and then time does the rest. You prick the fruit, tip in the sugar, pour over the gin, and put the jar at the back of a cupboard where you can mostly forget about it. Eight weeks later, maybe twelve, you have something that tastes like the whole of autumn has been pressed into a bottle.
The colour is the first thing. Within a day or two the gin has gone pink. Within a week it's the colour of garnets. By the time you strain and bottle it in December, it's so deep and dark it looks almost black against the light, and when you hold a glass up to a lamp the edges burn red. It smells of fruit and almond and something warm you can't quite name.
I wrote it down in the notebook the first year I made it: start in September, open in December, keep one bottle back for the following Christmas. I've kept to that rule ever since. A bottle of last year's damson gin, opened on a dark evening with someone you like, is one of the better reasons I can think of for paying attention to the seasons.
Quantity
500g
washed, stems removed
Quantity
250g
Quantity
1 litre
a London dry style works best
Quantity
1
Quantity
2 strips
pith removed
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| ripe damsonswashed, stems removed | 500g |
| golden caster sugar | 250g |
| decent gina London dry style works best | 1 litre |
| cinnamon stick (optional) | 1 |
| lemon peel (optional)pith removed | 2 strips |
Tip the damsons into a colander and rinse them under cold water. Pick out any that are bruised beyond redemption or split open. A few soft ones are fine. Pull off the stems. Pat them dry with a clean cloth. You want them properly dry before they go in the jar, so any bruised skin doesn't turn the whole thing cloudy.
Take a clean needle or a cocktail stick and prick each damson two or three times. This is a slow job. Put the radio on. The pricks let the juice bleed out into the gin, and without them the fruit sits there looking decorative and doing nothing. You want holes deep enough to reach the stone. Some people freeze the damsons overnight instead, which splits the skins and saves the needlework. Either works. I prefer pricking because it feels like part of the ritual.
Take a clean, sterilized 2-litre jar with a good seal. Tip the damsons in first, then the sugar on top. If you're using the cinnamon stick and lemon peel, add them now. The spices are optional and some years I skip them. A plain damson gin has a purer, more fruit-driven taste. A spiced one feels more like Christmas in a glass.
Pour the gin in slowly until the fruit is fully submerged. Seal the jar tightly. Give it a gentle swirl to start the sugar moving. The gin will already be picking up a faint rosy tint from the pricked skins. That's the beginning. By tomorrow morning it'll be darker. By next week it'll look like something from a stained-glass window.
Put the jar somewhere cool and dark. A pantry shelf, a cupboard, the back of a sideboard. For the first week or two, give it a gentle turn or shake every day to help the sugar dissolve and the colour develop. After that, once a week is plenty. You'll notice the gin going from pale pink to deep garnet to something that looks almost black held against the light. Leave it for at least eight weeks. Twelve is better. I start mine in early September and open the first bottle in the second week of December.
When the gin is ready, set a fine sieve lined with muslin over a large jug. Pour the damson gin through slowly. Don't press the fruit or the liquid will go cloudy. Let it drip in its own time. Once it's clear, decant into sterilized bottles and seal. The colour should be deep ruby, almost black at the heart, and the smell should stop you where you stand: fruit, almond, warmth, Christmas.
1 serving (about 50g)
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