Skip to content

Mocktails and cool drinks

Sharbats, lassis, juices and coolers with no alcohol. (495 recipes)

Atmit (warm barley gruel with spiced butter and honey)

When a baby is born in an Amhara household, visiting women bring or cook atmit for the new mother, and the same soft, sippable gruel is made for anyone recovering from illness. Roasted barley flour (or oat flour) is whisked into water and simmered until it thickens to the texture of a thin custard, then enriched with a spoon of niter kibbeh, honey and a pinch of korerima. It tastes nutty, sweet and buttery, and is drunk warm from a cup rather than eaten with a spoon. Some homes add a little milk for extra richness. A common mistake is tipping the flour straight into hot water, which makes lumps; slake it in cold water first. Chef's tip: keep it thinner than you think; atmit thickens as it cools, and it should still pour easily from the cup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kuti (Harari coffee-leaf tea)

Harar sits in old coffee country, and its households drink not only the beans but the leaves: kuti is made by toasting dried coffee leaves and brewing them into a light, amber tea. It tastes soft and grassy with a hint of roasted coffee and far less caffeine than a cup of buna, so it is sipped through the afternoon, during long chats and after the fast is broken in Ramadan. Many Harari homes add milk and sugar; leave the milk out or use a plant milk to keep it vegan. Dried coffee leaves are sold as coffee leaf tea by some coffee and tea merchants. Do not swap in cascara, which is the dried coffee cherry husk and makes a different, fruitier drink. Chef's tip: toast the leaves only until they darken a shade and smell like toasted hay; overdone, they taste of ash.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SbitenHot honey and spice drink

Long before tea reached Russia, street sellers wrapped in shawls carried copper urns of sbiten through winter markets, pouring steaming glasses of spiced honey water for traders and coachmen. It comes back every Maslenitsa at fairs in Moscow and Suzdal, drunk beside blini. The taste is warming and sweet, with the bite of ginger, a bitter edge of bay and clove, and a resinous note from St John's wort or mint. Where most people go wrong is boiling the honey hard, which dulls its perfume; simmer the spices first and dissolve the honey off the boil. Honey should not be given to babies under one year old. Chef's tip: make the spiced base ahead and keep it in the fridge, then reheat a glass at a time and finish with a squeeze of lemon.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kissel

Kissel is the drink of Russian childhoods: a glass of silky, ruby-red berry juice, just thick enough to coat the tongue, poured warm at kindergarten lunch or cold in summer from a jug on the dacha veranda. It is also the old Maslenitsa and wake-table drink, and frozen berries make it possible all year. The flavour is sweet-sharp and fresh, the texture smooth and slightly jelly-like. A common mistake is adding the starch mixture to boiling liquid and letting it bubble for minutes; bring it just back to a simmer, then take it off, or it thins out again and can turn gluey. More starch makes a spoonable dessert kissel. Chef's tip: lay cling film or sprinkle a little sugar on the surface as it cools to stop a skin forming.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mors

Northern Russia picks cranberries and lingonberries from the bogs in autumn, and many of them end up as mors, a tart, crimson drink served from a jug at family dinners and offered in cafes and canteens from Arkhangelsk to Siberia. Unlike kissel it is thin and refreshing, made by pressing out the raw berry juice, cooking the skins in water and then combining the two so the fresh vitamin-rich juice is never boiled. Honey goes in last, once the liquid has cooled a little, to keep its flavour. Where most people go wrong is boiling the pressed juice along with the pulp; keep it aside until the end. Honey is not for babies under one year old. Chef's tip: serve it cold with ice in summer or warmed gently in winter; it is good both ways.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lao iced coffee

High on the Bolaven Plateau above Pakse, the coffee towns around Paksong grow most of Laos's beans, and roadside stalls there brew them dark and strong through a long cloth sock, all day long. Ordered cold, it arrives as a glass of ice with a thick layer of sweetened condensed milk at the bottom, the black coffee poured over and stirred to a caramel brown, often with a free cup of weak tea to sip afterwards. It is bitter-sweet, chocolatey and much richer than a café latte, made for hot afternoons on the plateau or a morning stop in Pakse. A French press or a fine sieve lined with a paper filter stands in for the cloth sock. Pouring hot coffee straight onto ice before adding the milk is where it goes flat: the condensed milk won't dissolve in cold coffee and sinks in a gluey lump. Chef's tip: stir the condensed milk into the hot coffee first, then pour over the ice.

10 minLaoDrinksGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bahamian switchaKey lime drink

On Bahamian porches and at Fish Fry stalls in Nassau, switcha is the everyday cooler: fresh key limes squeezed with sugar and cold water, stirred up in a big jug with plenty of ice. It's sharper and more fragrant than lemonade, and you'll see the lime halves floating in the jug. The usual mistake is putting sugar straight into cold water, where it sinks undissolved: make a quick syrup first. Chef's tip: drop a few squeezed lime halves into the jug for 10 minutes for extra aroma, then take them out before the pith turns it bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KossamFresh or soured Fulani milk

Fulani herders of the Adamawa plateau measure hospitality in kossam: a calabash of cool milk offered to a guest after a long ride, or sold in Ngaoundéré's markets fresh in the morning and pleasantly soured by afternoon. Fresh kossam is simply creamy whole milk, sometimes sweetened, drunk cold with couscous or on its own as a light meal in the heat of the day. For the tangy soured style, stir two spoonfuls of live plain yoghurt into the milk, leave it somewhere warm for 8–12 hours until thickened, then chill. Traditionally it is made with raw milk; at home, always use pasteurised. Chef's tip: chill the milk for several hours and whisk the sugar in hard just before serving, which gives the light froth you see on calabash-served kossam.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Barley water

Ask for 'barley' at any drinks stall in a Singapore kopitiam and you get a tall glass of cloudy, faintly sweet barley water, the drink older relatives swear by on the hottest afternoons because it is said to cool the body. Home cooks simmer pearl barley for an hour with knotted pandan leaves, and in Teochew and Cantonese households chunks of winter melon go in as well for a gentle, cucumber-like sweetness. The result is light and clean, ideal beside a plate of chicken rice, char kway teow or anything greasy and salty. The usual mistake is boiling it hard, which turns the liquid starchy and slimy instead of smooth and pale; keep it at a gentle simmer. Chef's tip: don't throw away the softened barley grains; spoon some into each glass, as the stalls do, or eat them warm with a little rock sugar as a light dessert.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BandungRose syrup milk drink

Pink as a sweet in a glass, bandung turns up at almost every Malay drinks stall in Singapore, sipped through a straw at Geylang Serai, at kampung-style weddings and through the evenings of Ramadan when stalls sell it in tied plastic bags at the bazaars. Rose syrup is stirred into water and evaporated milk, then poured over plenty of ice, giving a drink that is floral, sweet and creamy without being heavy. It pairs well with spicy food such as mee rebus, satay or nasi lemak, cooling the chilli. The usual mistake is adding the evaporated milk to hot syrup, which can make it look curdled and dull; let the syrup cool, and mix with cold milk. Chef's tip: make the syrup in advance and keep it in the fridge for up to two weeks, so a glass takes a minute; a few drops of rose water at the end lift the scent if your syrup is mild.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Morir soñandoOrange and milk drink

Its name means "to die dreaming", and on a hot afternoon in Santo Domingo a tall glass of it from a colmado or juice stand feels exactly like that: fresh orange juice and ice-cold evaporated milk, sweetened and stirred over lots of ice into something like a creamsicle. Many Dominican families make it with dinner on Sundays. The common mistake is pouring the milk into the juice, or using warm ingredients, which curdles it; the juice goes slowly into very cold milk. Chef's tip: squeeze sweet, low-acid oranges and chill the juice and milk for an hour first, and it will stay smooth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Barbadine punchGranadilla milk drink

Barbadine, the giant granadilla, grows on vines over backyard fences across Trinidad and turns up at Sunday lunch blended into a pale, creamy punch. The fruit's soft white flesh and the perfumed seed pulp inside are both used, giving a gentle passion-fruit flavour that milk, nutmeg and a little sugar round out. It is alcohol-free and made for the whole family. A frequent mistake is blending the seeds hard, which cracks them and turns the drink gritty and bitter: pulse the pulp briefly and strain it. Chef's tip: if you can't find barbadine, use the pulp of 6 passion fruit plus 200 g peeled honeydew melon for a similar taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hong Kong iced lemon tea

Ask for 'ling cha, dung' at any Hong Kong cha chaan teng and a tall glass arrives crammed with ice, a heap of thin lemon slices and a long spoon for pounding them, the default thirst-quencher with set lunches all year round. The tea is brewed almost bitter, so it holds its own against the ice, and the sharp lemon and simple syrup turn it bright, tangy and refreshing. It is drunk with everything from macaroni soup breakfasts to afternoon pineapple buns. The common slip is brewing tea at normal strength, which tastes thin and watery once the ice melts; double the tea. Chef's tip: press the lemon slices with the back of the spoon only a few times to release juice and oil from the zest; grinding them to a pulp brings out bitterness from the pith.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Saudi champagneSparkling apple and mint punch

Despite the name, Saudi champagne is completely alcohol-free: a jug of chilled apple juice topped up with sparkling water and loaded with sliced apple, orange, lemon and fresh mint. It is the drink of weddings, Eid gatherings and summer afternoons in Jeddah and Riyadh, poured over plenty of ice into tall glasses. It is light, fizzy and fruity, a little like a cider-free punch, and children love it. The most common mistake is adding the sparkling water hours ahead, so the bubbles are gone by the time guests arrive; mix the fruit and juice early, and add the fizz at the last moment. Chef's tip: bruise the mint lightly between your palms before it goes in so it releases its scent without turning bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LimonanaFrozen mint lemonade

The name joins limon and nana, lemon and mint, and this slushy green lemonade is what beach cafés from Herzliya to Eilat hand over the counter on blazing summer days. Lemon juice, sugar syrup, a big handful of mint and ice are blended until smooth and frosty, so the drink is sour, sweet and cooling at once. It is alcohol-free and children love it. The mistake is blending the mint so long that it turns bitter and brownish; a short, hard blitz keeps it bright. Chef's tip: make the syrup ahead and chill it, then use plenty of ice so the drink stays thick rather than watery.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Labrador tea

Labrador tea grows in the bogs and boreal forests right across northern Canada, and Cree, Dene and Inuit families have long dried its leathery, rust-backed leaves for a hot drink on the land and at home. It tastes resinous and piney, a bit like rosemary and eucalyptus, and is often sweetened with a little sugar. The leaves contain natural compounds that are harmful in large amounts, so brew it weak, drink a cup or two, and don't steep it for hours. It is not for pregnant or breastfeeding women. Only pick it if you know the plant well: the poisonous bog laurel grows alongside it; dried leaves from a trusted seller are safest. A common mistake is using a big handful of leaves; one tablespoon makes two cups. Chef's tip: steep below boiling and briefly; a long boil makes it bitter and stronger than you want.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aiyu jelly with lemonAiyu fig jelly with lemon

Squeezing a little cloth bag of seeds in a bowl of water until it turns into jelly sounds like a magic trick, yet that's how aiyu has been made for well over a century in Chiayi, at the foot of the Alishan hills where the climbing fig grows wild. The pectin in the dried seeds sets the water into a soft, glassy, pale-gold jelly with almost no taste of its own, so it's cut into cubes and served icy cold with tart lemon juice and honey syrup, the most refreshing thing on a sticky Taipei summer afternoon. The classic failure is a bowl that won't set, usually because the bowl was oily or the water was distilled or very soft; it needs ordinary tap or mineral water. Chef's tip: rub the bag steadily for 8–10 minutes and stop as soon as it feels slippery and nothing more comes out, or the jelly turns cloudy and bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fever grass teaLemongrass and ginger tea

In Jamaican country yards a clump of fever grass, the local name for lemongrass, grows by the kitchen door, and a handful steeped in boiling water is the old remedy for colds, aches and restless nights. Brewed with fresh ginger, it is lemony, gently peppery and soothing, and is drunk hot, sweetened with a little brown sugar. The mistake people make is using the stalks whole, which gives a weak tea; bruise and cut them to release the oils. Chef's tip: tie long leaves in a knot before you add them, as country cooks do, so they are easy to lift out.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

June plum juice

When June plums (ambarella) fall from backyard trees across Jamaica, families blend the sour green-gold fruit into a sharp, refreshing juice with fresh ginger and lime. It is tangy like green apple, with a faintly mango-like perfume, and is drunk ice-cold with Sunday lunch. The big mistake is blending the spiny stone in with the flesh; cut the flesh away first or the juice turns bitter and fibrous. Chef's tip: use slightly underripe, firm plums for the brightest, sharpest flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ditakh juiceSweet-sour ditakh fruit juice

When the round, brown-shelled ditakh fruit comes into the markets of Dakar and Casamance, juice sellers turn its bright green, fibrous pulp into one of Senegal's most refreshing drinks. Ditakh grows on a wild tree of the region and is famously rich in vitamin C; its juice is vivid green, tart and fruity, somewhere between green apple, lime and tamarind. The pulp clings to a fibrous stone, so it is soaked and rubbed off by hand, then strained and sweetened. Outside Senegal look for frozen ditakh pulp in African shops; there is no real substitute. A frequent slip is blending the stones with the pulp, which makes the juice bitter. Chef's tip: work the flesh with your fingers rather than a blender, because blending crushes the bitter fibres and stone into the juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Frankincense water

Around Salalah in Oman's Dhofar region, where the frankincense trees grow on the dry hills behind the coast, many households drop a few tears of resin into a jug of water at night and sip it the next day, believing it settles the stomach. The water turns faintly milky and tastes cool, piney and slightly bitter. It is drunk at room temperature, in small glasses, often in the morning. Use only food-grade Boswellia sacra resin sold for eating (the pale hojari grade is best), never incense blends, and do not drink it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, or without asking a doctor if you take regular medication. The mistake is using too much resin, which makes it unpleasantly bitter. Chef's tip: rinse the tears in a sieve first to wash off dust and resin powder, and the water will be clearer and gentler.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Senegalese ginger juice

Nearly every Senegalese party, baptism and wedding table carries a jug of jus de gingembre next to the bissap, and Dakar street sellers keep it in frosted plastic bottles. Fresh ginger is blended with water, left to steep, strained and sweetened, then brightened with lemon and mint. Expect a sweet first sip followed by a strong, warming burn that is surprisingly refreshing when the drink is ice cold. Some cooks add a little pineapple juice or vanilla for a rounder taste. Chef's tip: taste before serving and dilute with cold water if it is too fierce; the most common mistake is serving it undiluted, when it can be strong enough to make people cough.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café Touba (spiced Senegalese coffee)

Poured from tall kettles into small cups on street corners from Dakar to the holy city of Touba, café Touba is coffee roasted together with djar, the smoky, peppery pods also called grains of selim, and often a few cloves. The drink is linked with the Mouride brotherhood and its founder Cheikh Amadou Bamba, and it is drunk sweet and strong at any hour. It has a deep roasted bitterness with a tingle of pepper and clove at the back of the throat. Roasting green beans at home takes about 20 minutes and makes enough for several pots; if you cannot get green beans, toast the spices separately and grind them with medium-roast coffee. Most people go wrong by grinding the djar (selim pepper) too coarsely, so its peppery note never comes through. Chef's tip: roast over a moderate heat and keep the beans moving, since high heat burns the outside while the inside stays raw and sour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kunun zaki (millet and ginger drink)

Chilled kunun zaki is what people reach for in the heat of Kano and Kaduna afternoons, and at Ramadan iftar it is one of the first things poured. Millet is soaked, ground with fresh ginger and cloves, then partly cooked; the uncooked portion stirred back in sweetens the drink naturally and gives it a light, refreshing tang. It is creamy-looking but thin, spicy at the back of the throat and best ice cold. Pouring boiling water over all the slurry is the classic mistake, since it stops the natural sweetening, so always keep a third raw. Chef's tip: start a day ahead (12 hours soaking, 4–6 hours resting) and strain twice through a fine cloth for a silky drink with no grit.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lamugin (spiced ginger millet drink)

Around Tamale and across Northern Ghana, lamugin is the drink that bites back: millet flour stirred into ginger water spiked with cloves, black pepper and chilli, then sweetened and served very cold. Sellers keep it in sachets or calabashes at markets and roadside stands, and it is handed round at gatherings and during Ramadan evenings. It is cloudy and slightly thick from the millet, with a sweet start and a long peppery warmth. This version is non-alcoholic and cooks the millet briefly so it tastes clean rather than raw. Chef's tip: pass the ginger water through a fine cloth before adding the millet, so the drink stays smooth instead of stringy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Asaana (caramelised corn drink)

Chilled in plastic bottles and sold from cool boxes at lorry parks, schools and roadside stalls, asaana is one of the most loved soft drinks in Ghana. Maize is soaked, ground and left to sour for a day, then boiled and strained, and the pale liquid is coloured and sweetened with sugar caramelised almost to bitterness. The result is tangy, toasty and refreshing, a little like a light malt drink. Boiling after the souring stops the fermentation, so asaana is a non-alcoholic drink. It needs about two days of mostly hands-off waiting. Chef's tip: take the caramel to a deep mahogany colour before adding water; pale caramel is the usual mistake and gives a flat, sugary drink without the classic toasted edge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fura da nono (millet balls in cultured milk)

Fulani women carry fura da nono to markets across the north in calabashes balanced on their heads: balls of spiced, cooked millet dough sold next to nono, cow's milk that has been left to sour. Crumbled into the milk and sweetened, the fura makes a thick, cooling drink that is part breakfast, part refreshment, tangy with ginger and a gentle heat from the spices. Traditional nono is made from raw milk; this home version uses pasteurised yoghurt and milk for safety, and it should be kept in the fridge. Mashing the fura straight into all the milk leaves lumps, so crumble it with a little milk first. Don't crumble the fura balls coarsely; large lumps stay chalky in the drink. Chef's tip: dust the shaped fura in millet flour and it keeps for 3 days in the fridge, ready to mix.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

RyazhankaBaked fermented milk drink

Ryazhanka starts with topleny moloko, milk baked slowly until it turns beige and smells of toffee, which was once done overnight in the cooling clay stove after bread day. Cultured with a little sour cream, it sets into a thick, spoonable drink with a mild tang and a soft caramel note that kefir never has. In Poltava and Sumy dairies it is sold in tall glass bottles, and people drink it at breakfast or with a slice of rye bread as a late snack. Use pasteurised milk, a clean jar, and refrigerate it as soon as it has set. Where most people go wrong is fermenting it too hot or too long, which makes it sour and watery with whey; check it after 4 hours. Throw away any batch with mould or an off smell. Chef's tip: let the brown skin form and break it back into the milk two or three times during baking; that skin is where the colour and flavour come from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HusliankaFermented Hutsul milk

High in the Hutsul villages around Verkhovyna and Kosiv, milk was boiled, cooled and left to sour in a wooden keg called a berbenytsia, which held the cultures from the last batch and gave the drink its name and its gentle tang. The result is huslianka: thicker than kefir, smooth like loose yogurt, with a fresh, clean sourness that shepherds drank with mamalyha and new potatoes. Today you will find it bottled at Carpathian markets, but it is easy to make in a glass jar at home. For safety, always start from pasteurised milk, use a scrupulously clean jar and move it to the fridge as soon as it sets. The usual slip is adding the starter while the milk is still hot, which kills the cultures, so cool it to body temperature first. Discard any batch that grows fuzzy or pink mould or smells unpleasant. Chef's tip: keep two spoons of each batch to start the next one; the flavour gets rounder with every round.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Haleeb zanjabeelGinger and cardamom milk

When the short Gulf winter brings chilly evenings to Riyadh, Kuwait and the desert camps, families pour cups of haleeb zanjabeel, hot milk steeped with fresh ginger, cardamom and a few threads of saffron. It is offered to guests in the majlis, given to anyone with a cold, and sipped at breakfast or late at night. It tastes warming and gently spicy, creamy and pale gold. The commonly made mistake is boiling the ginger hard in the milk for too long, which can curdle it and makes it harsh; steep it gently instead. Sweeten with sugar or honey to taste. Chef's tip: simmer the ginger and cardamom in a splash of water first, then add the milk; you get more flavour and less risk of splitting.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Loomi teaDried black lime tea

Dried limes, loomi, are everywhere in the Gulf kitchen, from Bahraini machboos to Kuwaiti stews, and on cold days or after a heavy meal they are also cracked open and steeped into shai loomi, a tart, smoky, amber tea. In Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Bahrain it is drunk hot and sweet in small glasses, and it is many families' remedy for an upset stomach. The flavour is sour and a little bitter, like a cross between lemon tea and something faintly smoked. A common mistake is steeping the whole limes uncracked, which gives a weak, watery tea; break them open first. Strain well, as the seeds are very bitter if chewed. Chef's tip: use the darker limes for a deeper, earthier tea and the pale ones for a sharper, brighter cup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

QishrSpiced coffee husk drink

In the highlands around Sana'a and in the coffee towns of Yemen, qishr is the everyday hot drink, brewed from the dried husks of the coffee cherry rather than the bean, with ginger and often cinnamon or cardamom. It is lighter and sweeter than coffee, amber in colour, with a fruity, tea-like taste and a warming bite of ginger, and it is poured all day for guests, after meals and during long afternoon visits. Serve it hot in small glasses or cups, with dates or bint al sahn. Boiling it for too long makes it bitter, so let it simmer briefly and then steep. Chef's tip: grate fresh ginger straight into the pot; it gives a brighter heat than the dried powder.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GazozFruit syrup soda

Before bottled soft drinks, the kiosks along Rothschild Boulevard and in Florentin sold gazoz: a squirt of fruit syrup topped up with fizzy water from a tap. Tel Aviv cafés have revived it as a glass crammed with fresh and lightly fermented fruit, flowers and herbs, so it is pretty, tart and only gently sweet. Make it on hot afternoons, for children's birthdays or as an alcohol-free welcome drink. The mistake is pouring the soda too early, so it goes flat before you drink it. Chef's tip: macerate the fruit in syrup for at least 30 minutes, ideally overnight in the fridge, so it bleeds colour into the glass.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chapman (Nigerian fruit punch)

Order a chapman in a Lagos club house or at an owambe party and it arrives in a tall glass full of ice, glowing red and crowded with slices of cucumber, orange and lemon. Lemon-lime and orange sodas are mixed with blackcurrant cordial and grenadine for a sweet, fruity, fizzy drink with a fresh edge from the cucumber. The classic recipe adds a few dashes of aromatic bitters, and those bitters contain alcohol; leave them out (or use an alcohol-free bitters) and it is fully alcohol-free and fine for children. Adding the soda too early is the usual mistake, as it goes flat, so mix the syrups and fruit first and top up just before serving. Chef's tip: chill every bottle well beforehand, so less ice melts into the drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PetelRaspberry cordial

A jug of petel on the table means summer in Israel: generations of kids have grown up drinking the bright red raspberry cordial in kindergarten, at kibbutz pools and at Shabbat lunches. The bottled kind is mostly colouring and flavouring; this homemade version simmers real raspberries with sugar and lemon into a fruity, tangy syrup you dilute with cold still or sparkling water. It keeps in the fridge for two weeks, or freezes in ice-cube trays. The common mistake is pressing the fruit hard through the sieve, which makes the syrup cloudy and pippy. Chef's tip: dilute one part syrup to five or six parts water, then adjust; it is meant to be light, not sticky.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kunun aya (tiger nut drink)

Street sellers in Jos, Kaduna and Kano keep kunun aya cold in coolers, and on a hot afternoon a glass of the creamy, nutty milk is hard to beat. Tiger nuts, which are small tubers rather than nuts, are soaked until plump, blended with dates, fresh coconut and a little ginger, then strained. Dates do the sweetening, so most people add no sugar at all. Skimping on the soak is the most common mistake; dry tiger nuts give a thin, gritty drink, so soak them for at least 8 hours. Chef's tip: soak them in the fridge and keep everything cold, because the fresh milk sours quickly in the heat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Doum drink

Spice and herb sellers in the Aswan souk pile up the hard, glossy brown fruit of the doum palm, and Nubian households soak it into a cold, sweet drink for the hot months and for Ramadan iftar. The dried flesh gives a cloudy amber drink that tastes surprisingly like gingerbread or caramel, with a faint woody bitterness. Buy it crushed or as coarse powder at Egyptian and African grocers; whole fruit is extremely hard to break. Leaving it to steep too long is the mistake to avoid, because it turns bitter. Chef's tip: strain twice, once through a sieve and again through muslin, to remove the gritty fibre.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sugarcane juice

Juice shops all over Cairo and the towns of Upper Egypt crush sugarcane through clattering steel rollers and serve the pale green juice ice-cold for a few pounds a glass, a favourite in the summer heat and after Ramadan fasting. It is sweet, grassy and refreshing, with a faint lemony edge, and it tastes best within minutes of pressing. Without a press, peeled cane chopped small and blended with a little water gives a very close result at home. Chef's tip: peel the cane completely, because the hard green rind makes the juice bitter and dark.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guinean tamarind juice

Tomi is the name for tamarind in Guinea, and in Conakry its juice is poured from plastic bottles kept on ice at markets, bus stops and family celebrations alongside bissap and ginger juice. The sticky brown pulp is soaked in hot water, kneaded and strained into a drink that is brown-gold, fruity and pleasantly sour, sweetened with sugar and lifted with a little ginger and vanilla. It is especially welcome at sunset during Ramadan. Chef's tip: soak the pulp in hot, not boiling, water and knead it well; boiling the tamarind is a common mistake that pulls out bitterness from the seeds and skins.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HalabessaHot spiced chickpeas in broth

Halabessa carts appear on Cairo and Alexandria corners once the winter evenings get cold, with a steaming pot of chickpeas and a stack of cups. The vendor ladles out tender chickpeas with plenty of their cooking broth, then adds salt, cumin, lemon and chilli, and sometimes a spoonful of tomato sauce, so it is half drink, half snack. It warms the hands as much as the stomach. The chickpeas need soaking overnight before cooking. The cardinal mistake is draining the chickpeas: the starchy cooking water is the whole point, so keep every drop. Chef's tip: simmer them very gently with the lid ajar so the broth turns cloudy and silky without the skins breaking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bedouin sage tea

Visitors to a Bedouin camp in the Sinai mountains are handed small glasses of this tea almost before they sit down, brewed in a blackened kettle over the fire and sweetened generously. Wild maramiya, the local sage, is dropped in at the end, giving the strong black tea a soft, herbal, slightly camphor scent that is soothing after a long walk or a heavy meal. Garden sage works well, and dried sage is fine in a pinch. Boiling the sage is the mistake to avoid, because it turns the tea bitter. Sage is best taken in moderation and avoided in large amounts during pregnancy. Chef's tip: pour from a height into the glasses; the froth that forms is how Bedouin hosts like it served.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican Irish moss drinkSea moss drink

Sold chilled in bottles by roadside vendors and in Kingston juice bars, Jamaican Irish moss is a thick, creamy drink made from dried sea moss boiled down until it releases its natural jelly. Blended with milk, nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla, it tastes like a cool, spiced milkshake and is often drunk as a pick-me-up. The usual mistake is skipping the soak and rinse, which leaves a sandy, fishy taste. Chef's tip: the gel thickens a lot in the fridge, so blend it a little thinner than you want and chill it before judging.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Taiwanese peanut rice milkWarm rice and peanut drink

Beside the steel urns of soy milk at a Taiwanese breakfast shop stands a second urn of something beige, thicker and nuttier, and regulars know exactly what goes with it: a fat sticky-rice roll, fan tuan, eaten on the way to the MRT. Rice is toasted, blended with roasted peanuts and water, then simmered into a smooth, lightly sweet drink with a nutty, almost popcorn aroma, served hot in winter and chilled in summer. It's naturally dairy-free and very filling. Walking away from the pot is the usual mistake, because the starch settles and scorches in a minute, giving the whole batch a burnt taste. Chef's tip: toast the raw rice in a dry pan until it's golden; that step gives the drink its unmistakable breakfast-shop flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hong Kong yuenyeungCoffee and milk tea blend

Named after mandarin ducks, which are always seen in pairs, yuenyeung marries brewed coffee and silky milk tea in a single cup, and you will find it on the drinks board of every cha chaan teng in Hong Kong. Office workers order it at lunch with a toasted bun or a plate of noodles, hot in winter and iced through the humid summer, and it tastes of both and neither: the tea's tannic grip, the coffee's roast and the creamy body of evaporated milk, with a double dose of caffeine that makes it a poor choice for children or late evenings. Watery tea is where most homemade versions go wrong, letting the coffee take over; brew the tea strong and stewed. Chef's tip: pour the brewed tea back and forth through a fine strainer four or five times; this 'pulling' smooths out the tannins and gives the drink its silky body.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KoththamalliCoriander and ginger brew

At the first sniffle, many Sri Lankan mothers put a pot of koththamalli on the stove, and in Colombo offices and up in the damp hill towns during the monsoon you will see people sipping it from steel tumblers instead of tea. Coriander seeds are toasted, cracked and boiled with plenty of ginger until the water turns amber, giving a warm, earthy, slightly citrusy drink with a gentle ginger burn. It is traditionally drunk unsweetened with a piece of kithul or palm jaggery held in the other hand and nibbled between sips, though you can dissolve the jaggery in if you prefer. Grinding the seeds to powder is a mistake, because the drink turns muddy and gritty; they should only be cracked. Chef's tip: toast the coriander just until it darkens a shade and smells like orange peel; that is when the oils are at their best.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SobiaRice and coconut milk drink

Before the sunset call to prayer in Ramadan, juice shops in Cairo's old quarters fill plastic bags and jugs with sobia for families to carry home, and it is one of the classic drinks for breaking the fast. It is milky white, sweet and smooth, with a gentle coconut flavour and a light body from the rice that makes it filling after a long day without food. This version simmers the rice-coconut milk briefly so it is safe to keep for a day or two in the fridge. Allow an hour for soaking the rice. The common mistake is not straining well, which leaves the drink gritty; push it through muslin. Chef's tip: chill it for at least 3 hours, because sobia tastes flat unless it is ice-cold.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Beet kvass

Before lemons and vinegar were easy to buy, Ukrainian cooks soured their borscht with beet kvass, a ruby-red brine made by leaving sliced raw beetroot in salted water for a few days. It is lightly fermented, so it contains no more than a negligible trace of alcohol, and it tastes earthy, salty and pleasantly sharp. In Poltava and Chernihiv villages a jar always stood by the stove; a splash went into the soup pot and a small glass was drunk in the morning as a tonic. Some families add a crust of rye bread to speed things up, which makes it no longer gluten-free. The mistake most people make is leaving the beetroot floating: anything above the brine can grow mould, so keep it weighed down. Discard any batch with fuzzy or coloured mould, a slimy texture or a rotten smell. Chef's tip: a few slices left in the jar from the previous batch start the next one in half the time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MathaSalted buttermilk

Thinner than lassi and salty rather than sweet, matha is what Old Dhaka drinks after a plate of kacchi biryani or a heavy afternoon of tehari and rezala. Vendors around Nazimuddin Road and Bangshal carry it in tall clay pots, churned so long that tiny flecks of butter float on top, and pour it into glasses with a pinch of roasted cumin and black salt. It tastes tangy, cool and faintly smoky, and it cuts through rich, oily food like nothing else. People often make it with thick Greek-style yoghurt and no extra water, which gives a heavy drink that sits in the stomach; matha should be pourable and light. Chef's tip: churn with plenty of ice in the jug so the butter firms into flecks you can skim off or leave floating, as the street sellers do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ŽinčicaSoured whey drink

Hikers walking past a salaš, a Slovak shepherds' hut, are often offered a mug of žinčica, the cool, sour whey left over from making bryndza and hrudka cheese. Shepherds heat the whey until fine flakes of cheese float up, then leave it to sour, and drink it with boiled potatoes or on its own on a hot afternoon. It is thin, refreshing and tangy, a little like a light buttermilk. At the salaš it is often made from raw sheep's milk, so at home make it only from the whey of cheese made with pasteurised milk (the korbáčiky recipe gives you plenty) and vegetarian rennet. The common slip is leaving it to sour somewhere warm for too long, where it turns cheesy and harsh; a cool room and 12 hours is enough. Chef's tip: a spoonful of cultured buttermilk gives a clean, reliable sourness every time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kandahari pomegranate juice

Kandahar's pomegranates, heavy fruits with dark ruby seeds and soft pips, are the pride of southern Afghanistan, and in October and November juice stalls in the city's bazaars press them to order in big iron hand presses. The juice is deep red, sweet with a clean sour finish and a faint tannic grip, drunk on its own in a tall glass, often with a pinch of salt. At home you can get almost the same thing with a citrus press or a blender. The bitterness that ruins many homemade glasses comes from crushing the white pith and hard pips, so blend the seeds only for a few seconds, or press the halves gently. Chef's tip: roll each whole pomegranate firmly on the worktop before cutting it, which bursts many of the seeds inside and makes juicing faster.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trini peanut punchPeanut butter milk drink

Bottled or blended fresh at roadside juice stands, peanut punch is what Trinidadians reach for after a long cricket afternoon, a hard gym session or a Saturday market run. Peanut butter is whizzed with cold milk, a little condensed milk, vanilla and a scrape of nutmeg until it is as thick as a milkshake and properly filling. It contains no alcohol, despite the name. The common mistake is under-blending, which leaves gritty clumps of peanut butter at the bottom of the glass. It contains peanuts and milk, so check for allergies before serving. Chef's tip: blend the peanut butter with just a third of the milk first to make a smooth paste, then add the rest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SardaiAlmond and fennel milk drink

Old Lahoris remember the sardai-wala in the lanes of the Walled City, sitting cross-legged with a huge stone mortar and a wooden pestle, grinding soaked almonds, melon seeds, fennel, poppy seeds and black pepper into a pale paste and whisking it into chilled sweet milk. It is creamy, nutty and floral, with the gentle aniseed cool of fennel and a little warmth from pepper, and it was drunk through the hot months as protection against heat. Today it is easier to make with a blender, but the principle is the same: soak, grind fine, strain, chill. Many people forget to soak the seeds long enough, and the drink ends up gritty with a chalky aftertaste. Chef's tip: soak everything for at least 2 hours, or overnight, and strain through a muslin cloth, squeezing hard, so the sardai is silky and full of flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Khajoor shakeDate and almond milkshake

Dates are the first thing on the table when the azan sounds for iftar in Pakistan, and in many homes in Karachi and Islamabad the dates go straight into the blender with cold milk and a handful of soaked almonds, making a thick, caramel-sweet shake that restores energy quickly after a long summer fast. Soft, moist dates such as the Aseel from Khairpur in Sindh give the smoothest result, and the drink needs no added sugar at all. It is also a popular breakfast for children and a quick snack after school. The typical mistake is blending dry, hard dates straight from the packet, which leaves chewy fragments and a gritty shake. Chef's tip: soak the stoned dates and almonds in a little warm milk for 10 minutes first, and blend them to a smooth paste before adding the rest of the cold milk.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Imli aloo bukhara sharbatTamarind and plum cooler

Pakistani grandmothers prescribe this deep brown drink for heatstroke, an upset stomach and the sluggish days of Ramadan fasting in June, and it is sold in tall glasses at sehri and iftar stalls in Karachi, Hyderabad and Lahore. Tamarind and dried aloo bukhara plums are soaked, simmered, mashed and strained into a concentrate, which is then sweetened, seasoned with black salt and roasted cumin and served poured over ice. The flavour is fruity, tart and slightly smoky from the plums, with the savoury lift of the salt. The concentrate keeps for a week in the fridge, so a big batch lasts through a heatwave. The usual problem is skipping the straining step and serving it thick with fibres and seeds, which makes it more like a chutney than a drink. Chef's tip: let the plums soak in the hot liquid for an hour after simmering, so they give up all their sourness and colour before you strain them.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Falsa sherbetFalsa berry drink

For a few short weeks in May and June, Punjabi fruit sellers from Multan to Lahore pile their carts with falsa, tiny purple-black berries with a big seed and a sweet-sour, grape-like flavour, and roadside stalls crush them in big jugs of iced water with sugar and a pinch of black salt. The sherbet is a striking magenta, tart and salty-sweet, and people swear by it as a cooler against the loo, the scorching summer wind; it is also a favourite at iftar when Ramadan falls in summer. Outside Pakistan look for frozen falsa in South Asian grocers, or use blackcurrants, which give a similar colour and sharpness. A common slip is blending the berries hard, which cracks the seeds and turns the drink bitter. Chef's tip: just rub the berries with the sugar and a little water by hand or pulse very briefly, then strain, so you get all the juice and colour and none of the bitterness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kachi lassiMilk and water lassi

Harvest time in the Punjab is thirsty work: when the wheat is being cut in the April heat, a steel jug of kachi lassi is carried out to the workers: fresh milk thinned with cold water, stirred with sugar and poured over chunks of ice. Unlike yogurt lassi there is no tang, just a light, clean, milky sweetness that quenches thirst better than plain water, and in many villages it is the drink offered to any guest who arrives on a hot afternoon. Some people add a pinch of salt instead of sugar, or a few drops of rose water. The traditional kind uses raw milk straight from the buffalo; use pasteurised milk instead to be safe. The usual mistake is making it with too little water, which turns it heavy instead of refreshing. Chef's tip: whisk it hard or shake it in a jar so it turns frothy, which makes it feel even cooler.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Doodh sodaMilk with lemon-lime soda

It sounds odd until you are standing in a crowd at a Lahore milk shop on a 45 °C June night, when a tall glass of doodh soda, foamy and sweet with a sharp citrus fizz, is the most refreshing thing in the city. The doodh-walas of Gawalmandi and Mozang chill milk in steel drums over ice, then pour it from a height into a glass with lemon-lime soda so that it froths like a milkshake, and people drink it straight after dinner or after a late plate of fried fish or chana. It tastes like a lighter, bubbly lassi, and children love it. What usually goes wrong is warm milk or flat soda, which makes it taste curdled rather than crisp. Chef's tip: chill both the milk and the soda until very cold, pour the milk first and add the soda in one go, then serve at once while the foam is high.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Seven-layer tea

Visitors to the tea gardens of Srimangal, in Sylhet's Moulvibazar district, queue at small tea cabins to see a glass of tea striped in seven distinct bands, from creamy white at the bottom to pale green-gold at the top. The original recipe is a closely guarded secret of the tea-maker who made it famous, but the principle is simple physics: each layer carries a different amount of sugar, so the heaviest sits at the bottom and the lightest floats on top. This home version uses condensed milk, green tea, strong black tea, milk tea, lemon tea, spiced tea and plain tea, and it is drunk slowly, layer by layer, with a long spoon. Pouring too fast is what ruins it; each layer should trickle down the inside of the glass over the back of a spoon. Chef's tip: let all the brews cool to warm, about 50 °C, so temperature differences don't stir the layers.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tumuro teaWild thyme tea

Tumuro is the small-leaved wild thyme that grows on the rocky slopes above Hunza and Gilgit, and in late summer families pick and dry bundles of it to brew through the year. The tea is pale gold and intensely aromatic, more resinous and floral than garden thyme, and it is drunk after heavy meals, by anyone with a cold and simply as a warming cup on a mountain evening; cafés in Karimabad serve it to visitors. Boiling it hard for a long time is the misstep that turns it bitter and medicinal. Chef's tip: if you cannot find tumuro, which is sometimes sold in Pakistani grocers and online as Hunza thyme, use dried garden thyme with a few fresh sprigs, steep it gently, and sweeten with a little sugar only if you like.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tarragon lemonade

Tarkhuna is the emerald-green soda that every Tbilisi child knows, sold from street fountains since the early 1900s and still poured in tall glasses at cafés on Rustaveli Avenue. The bottled kind is coloured; the home version gets its green from blitzing fresh tarragon with lemon and syrup, giving an aniseedy, sweet-sour fizz. A common mistake is boiling the tarragon, which dulls the colour and turns the flavour stewed. Chef's tip: blitz the herb into cool syrup and strain it straight away; the drink stays vivid green for a day in the fridge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Abreh (Sudanese white sorghum flake drink)

Where hilu-mur is dark and spiced, abreh abyad, white abreh, is its pale, gentle partner: a batter of white sorghum flour is left to sour lightly, then baked into thin cream-coloured flakes that are soaked in cold, sweetened water and served at iftar across northern Sudan. The drink is cloudy, refreshing and faintly tangy, a good way to rehydrate after a long day of fasting; some families add a splash of lime or a little cardamom. The overnight souring takes 12–18 hours and is not counted in the totals; it is non-alcoholic, and the flakes are dried hard on the griddle. Spreading the batter too thickly is the classic mistake, so work fast and thin. Chef's tip: make a big batch in one session; the dry flakes keep for months in a tin, so a jug of abreh is only an hour away.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hilu-mur (Sudanese spiced sorghum Ramadan drink)

Weeks before Ramadan, households across Sudan fill with the smell of hilu-mur, literally 'sweet-bitter', as sorghum is sprouted, dried, ground and mixed with flour, dates and a heady spice blend, left to sour for a day, then spread paper-thin on a hot griddle into brittle reddish-brown flakes. Each evening during the month a handful is soaked in water, strained and sweetened, giving the dark, tangy, clove-and-ginger-scented drink that breaks the fast. The souring is short, like a sourdough, and the flakes are cooked dry; the drink is non-alcoholic and served to the whole family. The full process takes about 5 days: 3 days to sprout, 1 to dry and a night to sour, so only active and cooking time are in the totals. Many people buy ready-made flakes from Sudanese shops. Discard any grain that smells musty or shows mould while sprouting. The usual mistake is pouring the batter too thick on the griddle; the flakes should be paper-thin to dry crisp. Chef's tip: spread the batter as thinly as you can; thick flakes stay chewy and go mouldy in storage.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Madeeda (Sudanese warm millet and milk drink)

Thick enough to sip slowly from a glass but thinner than porridge, madeeda is a warming drink from northern Sudan made by cooking flour, often pearl millet, in milk and sweetening it with sugar or dates. Families make it on cool winter mornings, for anyone feeling under the weather and for new mothers, and it is a gentle way to break the fast in Ramadan. This version uses millet flour with cardamom and a little cinnamon, so it is smooth, nutty and lightly spiced. Lumps are the usual problem: whisk the flour into cold milk before it goes onto the heat. A frequent slip is not stirring enough, so the millet catches and the milk scorches. Chef's tip: for a date version, blitz 6 soft pitted dates with the milk and halve the sugar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aradeib (Sudanese tamarind drink)

Tamarind trees shade villages throughout Darfur and Kordofan, and their sticky brown pods become aradeib, one of the best-loved Sudanese cold drinks. The pulp is soaked, rubbed and strained, then sweetened to make a deep amber, puckeringly sour drink that cuts through rich food and is much loved at iftar through Ramadan. It is also drunk as a home remedy for upset stomachs and heat. Seedy block tamarind from any Asian or African shop works perfectly. Pouring boiling water straight onto the pulp and leaving it too long draws out a harsh, tannic edge, so use hot rather than boiling water and strain after an hour. Avoid squeezing the soaked tamarind through a cloth too hard; fibres get through and make the drink cloudy and gritty. Chef's tip: make a concentrate and keep it in the fridge for up to a week; dilute with cold water by the glass.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guddaim (Sudanese grewia berry drink)

Small, round guddaim berries, the fruit of a wild grewia shrub that grows across Kordofan and Darfur, are dried and sold by the cupful in Sudanese markets. Soaked in water and rubbed off their stones, they give a cloudy reddish-brown drink that tastes a little like dates and sour cherries, with a pleasantly sharp finish. It is drunk ice-cold in the heat of the day, at iftar and to welcome guests. Look for dried guddaim in Sudanese or East African shops. If you cannot find it, a mix of 150 g pitted dates and 50 g tamarind pulp soaked the same way gives a similar sweet-sour drink, though not the same. Rubbing too hard and breaking the stones is the usual mistake, as it clouds the drink with grit; rub gently. Chef's tip: soak the berries in cool water overnight in the fridge for the fullest flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tabaldi (Sudanese baobab drink)

The great baobab trees of Kordofan and Darfur drop hard pods full of chalky, cream-coloured pulp, and Sudanese cooks soak it in water to make tabaldi, a thick, milky-looking drink with a sherbet-like tang. It is sold from big cool-boxes in Khartoum markets in summer, served at weddings, and appears on the iftar table during Ramadan. Fresh pulp pieces with seeds are sold in African and Middle Eastern shops; baobab powder is a good substitute and needs no straining. Leave the drink to soak for an hour in the fridge before straining (soaking time is not counted in the total). The usual mistake is blending the seeds, which makes the drink bitter; rub the pulp off by hand instead. Chef's tip: a few drops of rose water or a pinch of ground cardamom makes it feel festive.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Spris (layered fruit juice)

Juice houses all over Addis Ababa, with their towers of fruit stacked in the window, are famous for spris: a tall glass of thick purées poured in stripes, usually green avocado, golden mango and orange papaya, with a wedge of lime on the rim. It is closer to a spoonable smoothie than a juice, and people often eat the layers one by one before stirring the rest together. It makes a filling breakfast or an afternoon pick-me-up, and children love the colours. Chef's tip: blend each fruit separately and keep every purée thick enough to hold a spoon; runny purées bleed into each other and the stripes vanish.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Telba (roasted flaxseed drink)

Flax grows across the highlands of Gojjam, and on Wednesdays, Fridays and through Lent its toasted seeds become telba, a creamy, nutty drink that fills you up when animal food is off the menu. The seeds are dry-roasted until they pop, ground fine, then whisked with water and strained, giving a pale brown drink with a faint toasted-sesame flavour and a slightly silky body. It is also taken as a gentle remedy for an upset stomach. Families often sweeten it with honey; sugar keeps it fully vegan. Don't roast the flaxseed too far: over-roasted seeds turn the drink bitter. Chef's tip: grind only what you need that day, because ground flax goes stale and bitter within days; whole roasted seeds keep for weeks in a jar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Zoom-koomGinger tamarind millet drink

Zoom-koom means flour water in Mooré, and in Ouagadougou it is the drink that breaks the fast at iftar during Ramadan and cools people down in the scorching weeks before the rains. Millet gives it body and a soft cereal sweetness, while fresh ginger brings heat and tamarind a sour edge; some sellers add lime or mint. It is cloudy, thick and refreshing, served very cold in small bags or glasses. Raw flour is not safe to drink as it is, so this version toasts the millet first, which also deepens its flavour. Chill for at least an hour before serving. Chef's tip: stir the jug every time you pour, as the millet settles quickly to the bottom.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AkpanFermented corn drink

Street sellers in Cotonou and Porto-Novo keep akpan in cool boxes, ladled into cups or tied plastic bags as a mid-afternoon pick-me-up. The base is fermented maize starch cooked into a thick pap, then left to sour further until it tastes like a mild, slightly yeasty yoghurt; cold milk and sugar loosen it into a creamy drink you can sip or eat with a spoon. It is refreshing, tangy and filling, and many people treat it as a light meal on hot days. Budget a day for the second souring, though the hands-on time is under half an hour, and always use pasteurised milk and keep the finished drink in the fridge. Don't let the fermented base sit at room temperature for longer than stated; past that it sours too far. Chef's tip: sieve the slurry before cooking; any maize husk left in makes the drink gritty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BirzFresh honey water

In Gojjam and Gondar, where honey is plentiful, birz is poured for children, for guests who do not drink, and at church feasts and weddings beside the tej. It starts the same way as honey wine, with honey stirred into water, but it is drunk fresh within hours, so it stays sweet, mild and completely alcohol-free. Good, flowery honey is everything here; it should taste like a cool, floral lemonade without the lemon. Because birz is honey and water, it will start to ferment by itself if left warm, so drink it the same day and keep it in the fridge until you pour it. Honey is not suitable for babies under 12 months. Chef's tip: dissolve the honey in a little warm water first; stirred straight into cold water, it sinks to the bottom in a sticky lump.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Champola de guanábanaSoursop milk shake

On a sticky afternoon in Havana, a tall glass of champola is the classic cooler: soursop pulp blended with ice-cold milk and a little sugar into something between a shake and a fruit drink. Soursop (guanábana) tastes of pineapple, banana and lemon at once, with a creamy body all its own. The common mistake is blending the black seeds in, which makes the drink bitter, so remove every one or use frozen pulp. Chef's tip: add a squeeze of lime just before serving; it sharpens the fruit and stops the drink tasting flat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GuarapoSugarcane juice

Guarapo stands, or guaraperas, pop up across Cuba wherever cane grows, crushing fresh stalks through a press and pouring the pale green juice straight over ice. It tastes grassy and gently sweet, never sugary, and it is drunk the moment it is pressed. You need a sugarcane press or juicer, or fresh peeled cane and a strong blender; bottled cane juice is a poor substitute. The common mistake is pressing the cane long before serving, because the juice darkens and starts to ferment within an hour. Chef's tip: chill the cane before pressing and add the lime as you press, which keeps the colour bright.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SufSunflower seed milk

During the long Orthodox fasts, when milk is off the menu for weeks, Ethiopian households turn sunflower seeds into suf: the seeds are pounded or blended with water and strained through a cloth into a pale, creamy drink with a gentle nutty taste. It is served cool in glasses, sometimes lightly sweetened, and the same liquid is poured over torn injera to make the fasting dish suf fitfit. It is light, filling and costs very little. Chef's tip: squeeze the pulp hard in the cloth at the end; the last, thickest drops carry most of the flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pine nut tea

Order tea in a Tunis café, especially in the cafés of Sidi Bou Said overlooking the bay, and it often arrives with a spoonful of pale pine nuts bobbing on top. The tea itself is brewed strong and very sweet, green with mint or dark black tea boiled until syrupy, and poured from a height into small glasses so it froths. The nuts soften slightly in the heat and you eat them at the bottom of the glass, buttery against the bitter-sweet tea. It is drunk after meals and through the evening. Chef's tip: toast the pine nuts lightly in a dry pan; just a hint of colour brings out their butteriness without making them sink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CitronnadeWhole lemon cooler

Café terraces in Tunis serve citronnade in tall glasses on hot afternoons and through Ramadan evenings, and it is nothing like clear lemonade: whole lemons, peel and all, are blended with sugar and water, then strained, giving a cloudy, pale-yellow drink that tastes of the zest as much as the juice. A drop of orange-flower water rounds it off. It should be sharp, sweet and very cold. Use unwaxed lemons with thin skins. Chef's tip: let the cut lemons sit with the sugar for 10 minutes before blending; the sugar draws out the fragrant oils from the peel.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lemon verbena tea (louiza)

After a big dinner or before bed, many Moroccan households swap green mint tea for a pot of louiza, lemon verbena, whose long, narrow leaves give a pale golden infusion that smells of lemon sherbet and has no caffeine. The fresh herb is sold in bunches alongside mint and absinthe at market herb stalls, and dried leaves keep all year. Drink it plain, lightly sweetened, or brewed with a few mint sprigs. It is soothing, clean-tasting and fragrant. Chef's tip: pour boiling water over the leaves and let them steep off the heat for 5 minutes; boiling the leaves in the pot, a common mistake, turns the tea grassy and bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Quinua con manzanaQuinoa and apple drink

Morning market stalls and street carts from Lima to Huancayo ladle quinua con manzana into glasses alongside emoliente and maca, and many people drink it as breakfast on its own, with a bread roll or a sandwich beside it. Quinoa and chunks of apple are simmered with cinnamon and cloves until the grains burst and the liquid thickens, then sweetened and served warm or cold. Some stalls blend it smooth; others leave the grains and soft apple pieces to spoon up. It is mild, fruity and filling, and children usually like it. The mistake that ruins it is skipping the rinse: quinoa's natural coating, saponin, makes the drink bitter and soapy, so rub it under running water until the foam stops. Chef's tip: add a few drops of lime at the end; it lifts the apple and keeps the drink from tasting flat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BarraquitoLayered coffee with condensed milk

Order a barraquito in any café in Santa Cruz de Tenerife or La Laguna and it comes in a small glass showing neat stripes: sweet condensed milk at the bottom, then espresso, then foamed milk, perfumed with lemon peel and cinnamon. The bar classic adds a measure of a vanilla-citrus Spanish liqueur between the layers, which makes it contain alcohol; this recipe leaves it optional, and without it the drink is often called a zaperoco or barraquito sin licor. Chef's tip: pour each layer slowly over the back of a spoon, so the layers sit on top of each other instead of mixing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chocolate de aguaHot chocolate made with water

Walk down Calle Mina in Oaxaca City and the air smells of cacao, cinnamon and almonds, roasted and ground into chocolate in front of you at the mills. Most Oaxacans drink it made with water, not milk, so the taste of the cacao comes through clean and slightly bitter, with a thick head of foam raised with a wooden molinillo. It is drunk for breakfast with pan de yema and at every wedding and Day of the Dead altar. The tablets already hold sugar and cinnamon; we give a version with dark chocolate too. Chef's tip: the foam is the point, so whisk hard just before pouring and serve in wide cups.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Agua de chía con limónLime and chia water

In the markets of Michoacán, especially in Uruapan and Morelia, the glass barrels of agua fresca often include one cloudy, speckled with tiny seeds: agua de chía, limeade with soaked chia seeds that swell into soft little pearls. Chia has been grown in central Mexico since long before the Spanish, and the drink is light, sharp and very refreshing, with a gentle texture from the seeds. It is drunk with lunch or on hot afternoons. Chef's tip: stir the seeds into the water twice in the first ten minutes; otherwise they clump into jelly-like lumps.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café de ollaSpiced clay-pot coffee

In ranch kitchens and roadside fondas across central Mexico, coffee is not dripped but boiled in a tall clay pot (olla de barro) with a cone of piloncillo and a stick of soft Mexican cinnamon, then strained into clay mugs. It is sweet, spiced and earthy, and is served with pan dulce at breakfast, on cold evenings, and to visitors on Day of the Dead. A saucepan works fine if you have no olla. Chef's tip: turn the heat off before adding the coffee and let it steep rather than boil, or it turns bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Torito de cacahuatePeanut drink

Torito is the party drink of the port of Veracruz and the Sotavento, poured at weddings, saints' days and the Tlacotalpan Candelaria fair: a thick, cold, milkshake-like blend of peanuts, condensed and evaporated milk and cinnamon. The traditional version is spiked with aguardiente, the local cane spirit. This recipe is the alcohol-free version, so children can drink it too; adults who want the original add a measure of cane spirit to each glass. It contains peanuts, so check for allergies. Chef's tip: toast the peanuts until just golden before blending; raw ones taste flat and beany.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pozol de cacaoCold corn and cacao drink

In the heat of Villahermosa and the Chiapas lowlands, farmers carry a ball of corn dough in a banana leaf and mix it with water in a jícara (a gourd bowl) at midday: that is pozol, a cold, thick, filling drink that has been made since Maya times. The cacao version is the favourite, sold from big clay pots at market stalls with ice, sometimes slightly fermented so it turns pleasantly sour. This home version uses masa harina and cocoa nibs, so it is ready in minutes; leave it to ferment if you want the tang. Chef's tip: stir it every time before pouring, as the corn settles to the bottom fast.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TascalateToasted corn and cacao drink

Tascalate is the drink of the Chiapas central valley, sold in Chiapa de Corzo and Tuxtla in tall glasses at markets and given to guests at fiestas. A powder of toasted tortillas, cacao, pine nuts, sugar, cinnamon and a little achiote is whisked into cold water or milk, so it is orange-brown, thick and nutty with a sweet chocolate finish. The powder keeps for weeks, so make a jar. Made with water it is vegan. Chef's tip: toast the tortillas until they snap cleanly; any softness leaves the powder clumpy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SoumadaAlmond syrup drink

On Crete and several Aegean islands, a glass of cloudy-white soumada is offered to guests at weddings and on hot summer afternoons. It begins as a thick almond syrup kept in the fridge, which is stirred into iced water to make a cool, gently sweet drink that tastes of marzipan and orange blossom. Some islanders add a few bitter almonds for an edge; they are not safe to eat in quantity, so this version uses a drop of almond extract instead. Common mistake: boiling the syrup hard after the almond milk goes in, which makes it cloudy and grainy rather than smooth. Chef's tip: squeeze the almond pulp in a muslin bag with real force; the last drops are the richest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MırraBitter cardamom coffee

In the courtyard houses of Mardin and the guest rooms of Şanlıurfa, mırra is poured from a long-spouted pot into tiny handleless cups, just a mouthful each, as a sign of welcome. It is made by boiling dark-roasted coffee for a long time until it becomes thick, bitter and concentrated, then boiling it again and again. Tradition says you never put the cup down empty unless you mean to marry the host's family, so hand it back with a small shake. It is never sweetened: serve it with dates or a sweet. Common mistake: using finely ground Turkish coffee; it turns muddy, so use medium-ground dark roast. Chef's tip: the second boil is where the flavour comes from, so don't rush it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Türk kahvesiTurkish coffee

A cup of Türk kahvesi is how Turks welcome guests, end a long meal and, in the old custom, test a suitor: the prospective bride makes his cup and may slip salt into it. Powder-fine coffee is brewed slowly with cold water and sugar to taste in a small long-handled pot (cezve), until a thick foam rises, then poured unfiltered so the grounds settle in the cup. Serve with a glass of water first and a piece of lokum. Order it sade (plain), orta (medium) or şekerli (sweet) and add the sugar before brewing, never after. The usual mistake is letting it boil, which collapses the foam and makes it bitter. Chef's tip: use cold water and a low heat; the slower it rises, the thicker the foam.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tamar hindiTamarind drink

During Ramadan in Damascus, street sellers in bright waistcoats pour tamar hindi from tall brass jugs on their backs, clinking cups to call buyers before iftar. The drink is a deep brown infusion of tamarind, sweetened and sharpened with lemon and a touch of rose or orange blossom, served ice cold to quench a day's thirst. It is fruity, tangy and refreshing, and made in a big batch to keep in the fridge. Common mistake: boiling the tamarind hard — gentle soaking gives a clean taste, while boiling makes it muddy. Chef's tip: strain twice, the second time through a cloth, for a clear, glossy drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Qamar al-dinApricot drink

Damascus is famous for its apricots, and much of the summer harvest is pressed into thin orange sheets of apricot leather called qamar al-din. In Ramadan, almost every Syrian home soaks a sheet overnight and blends it into a thick, velvety drink to break the fast — it is sweet, slightly tart and full of energy after a long day. Serve it chilled, sometimes with a few soaked pine nuts on top. Common mistake: blending without soaking long enough; the leather needs time to soften or the drink is gritty. Chef's tip: add a splash of orange blossom water and a squeeze of lemon to wake up the apricot flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

VyssinadaSour cherry drink

Before fizzy drinks arrived, a tall glass of vyssinada was what you ordered in a Volos or Larissa kafeneio on an August afternoon: sour cherry syrup topped with iced water, sweet and sharp and bright red. Families in Thessaly still make a cordial from the summer cherry crop and keep the bottles in the fridge for weeks. Common mistake: squashing the cherries too hard through the sieve, which clouds the syrup — let the juice drip. Chef's tip: top with sparkling water and a squeeze of lemon for a lighter, livelier glass.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Erk sousLiquorice root drink

In the lanes of old Damascus and Aleppo, the erk sous seller is heard before he is seen, clacking brass cups as he walks with a great curved jug strapped to his back. His drink is liquorice root, slowly dripped through with cold water, dark, earthy, faintly bitter and naturally sweet, poured with a flourish over the shoulder during Ramadan iftars and hot afternoons. At home a sieve and a cloth do the job. The mistake people make is pouring boiling water over the root, which pulls out harsh bitterness; cold water and patience give a smooth, foamy drink. Liquorice root raises blood pressure if you drink a lot of it, so keep to a glass or two a day and skip it if you are pregnant or have high blood pressure. Chef's tip: a pinch of bicarbonate of soda in the damp root gives the drink its traditional thick, frothy head.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LemonanaFrozen mint lemonade

From café terraces in Ramallah and Jaffa to juice bars along Hamra Street in Beirut, summer means tall glasses of lemonana: lemons and fistfuls of fresh mint blended with ice into a sharp, sweet, electric-green slush. It is the drink handed to you after a walk through the market at noon, and it cools a mezze lunch like nothing else. Everything goes in a blender, but the mint must be fresh and plentiful. The common mistake is blending the mint for too long, which bruises it and turns the drink murky and grassy. Chef's tip: make a lemon-sugar syrup first and chill it; dissolved sugar sweetens evenly and lets you blend for only a few seconds.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chocolate egg cream

The egg cream contains neither egg nor cream: it is the old soda-fountain drink of Brooklyn and the Lower East Side, made of cold milk, chocolate syrup and a hard jet of seltzer that whips up a tall white foam. It was sold for pennies at candy stores and corner luncheonettes, and New Yorkers still argue about the right order to pour. Chef's tip: everything, glass included, must be ice-cold, or the foam collapses.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tsai tou vounouMountain tea with honey and lemon

Bunches of dried sideritis, the woolly-leaved herb Greeks call mountain tea, hang in village kitchens from Mount Olympus to Taygetos, and a pot is brewed at the first sniffle of winter or after a long walk. The tea is pale gold with a gentle lemony, earthy, slightly floral taste, and it is drunk with honey, a slice of lemon and sometimes a cinnamon stick. Common mistake: brewing it like black tea with boiling water for a minute; it needs a gentle simmer to draw out flavour. Chef's tip: break the dried stems into the pot along with the flowers; the flower heads hold most of the aroma, the stems add body.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Southern sweet tea

Sweet tea is the house wine of the South, poured by the jug at every barbecue joint, meat-and-three and Sunday lunch from South Carolina to Texas. Strong black tea is sweetened while hot so the sugar dissolves completely, then cooled and poured over plenty of ice with lemon. A pinch of bicarbonate is an old trick that softens bitterness and keeps it clear. Chef's tip: let the tea cool to room temperature before chilling; putting it straight in the fridge hot makes it go cloudy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Palm Springs date shake

The Coachella Valley around Palm Springs and Indio grows most of America's dates, and roadside date farms along the desert highway have sold this shake to thirsty drivers since the 1930s. Soft Medjool dates are blended with vanilla ice cream and milk into a thick, caramel-flavoured shake. Chef's tip: soak the chopped dates in a little warm milk for 10 minutes first, so they blend completely smooth instead of leaving chewy bits in the straw.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KharroubCarob drink

Through Ramadan, street vendors in Jerusalem's Old City and in Nablus walk the alleys with brass urns of kharroub on their backs, clacking cups to announce the cold carob drink that breaks the fast. Made by soaking crushed carob pods (or more easily from carob molasses), it is dark, chocolatey-caramel in taste, lightly sweet and very refreshing over ice. Common mistake: boiling the pods hard, which makes the drink bitter and cloudy; soak and simmer gently. Chef's tip: a few drops of orange-blossom water just before serving lifts the earthy carob flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shai bil maramiyaSage tea

Offer a guest tea in a Palestinian home and it will most likely come in small glasses, sweet, strong and fragrant with maramiya, the soft-leaved sage that grows on every terrace and is said to settle the stomach after a heavy meal. In winter the leaves are dried; in spring they are picked fresh. Common mistake: boiling the sage with the tea, which brings out a medicinal bitterness; it goes in after the heat is off. Chef's tip: bruise the sage leaves between your fingers before dropping them in, and let them steep only 2–3 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KalimotxoRed wine and cola

Kalimotxo contains alcohol (red wine), so the classic version is for adults only; an alcohol-free version is given below. The story goes that it was mixed in 1972 at a fiesta in Algorta, near Bilbao, when the wine bought for the stall turned out to be poor and cola was added to save it. Today it is the drink of every Basque summer fiesta, from Bilbao's Aste Nagusia to village squares, poured into big plastic cups. A common mistake is mixing warm wine and flat cola, which tastes heavy and sweet: both should be fridge-cold and the cola freshly opened. Chef's tip: pour the cola slowly down the side of the glass so it keeps its fizz.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Irish coffee

Irish coffee was first served in the 1940s at Foynes on the Shannon estuary, to cold passengers stepping off the flying boats from America, and it is now poured in hotel bars across Ireland after a long dinner. Hot black coffee is sweetened with brown sugar and laced with Irish whiskey, then topped with a layer of lightly whipped cream that you drink the coffee through. This drink contains alcohol; for an alcohol-free version, leave out the whiskey and add a few drops of vanilla. Chef's tip: whip the cream only until it just thickens, so it floats in a soft layer rather than sinking or sitting in stiff blobs.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guaraná raladoGrated guaraná drink

Long before fizzy guaraná, people in Mato Grosso started the day with this: a hard, dark stick of roasted guaraná seed paste grated into a glass of cold water with sugar and stirred well. Cuiabá's older generation still drink it at breakfast or in the heat of the afternoon, and market stalls sell the sticks along with the traditional grater, the dried tongue of the pirarucu fish (a fine microplane works just as well). It tastes bitter-earthy, a little like cocoa without the fat, and the caffeine is strong. Because guaraná contains more caffeine than coffee, keep to one glass a day, and avoid it for children, during pregnancy or if you are sensitive to caffeine. The usual error is grating far too much, which makes it bitter and overpowering; a level teaspoon per glass is plenty. Chef's tip: let it stand for a minute after stirring so the powder hydrates, then stir again before drinking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CafezinhoSmall strong sweet coffee

A tiny cup of black coffee is the first thing a Brazilian host offers, in a São Paulo office, a Minas farmhouse or a Recife shop, and saying no is almost impolite. Cafezinho is filtered rather than espresso: finely ground coffee goes into a cloth filter (coador de pano) and hot water runs through it, giving a strong, smooth, slightly thick brew served in small cups. Traditionally the sugar is dissolved in the water before brewing, so it arrives already sweet; leave it out if you prefer. A paper filter in a cone works if you have no cloth. Boiling the water with the coffee is the mistake to avoid, as it scorches the grounds and the cup turns bitter. Chef's tip: take the pan off the heat when the first bubbles break the surface and wait 30 seconds; water just off the boil, around 92–95 °C, gives the sweetest cup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caldo de canaSugarcane juice

Ice-cold sugarcane juice pressed while you wait is the drink of Brazilian street fairs, poured into tall glasses at the pastel stall so you can wash down a hot, crisp pastel. São Paulo's feiras livres made the pairing famous, and in the Northeast the same juice is called garapa. It is pale green, very sweet, grassy and refreshing, sharpened with lime. Without a cane press, you can make it at home by blending peeled cane with a little water and straining it; buy fresh sugarcane sticks in Asian, Caribbean or Latin shops. It oxidises and darkens fast, so drink it immediately. Using cane that is not fully peeled is a common error, and the woody green rind makes the juice bitter. Chef's tip: chill the cane before peeling and blend it with ice cubes as well as water, so the juice comes out cold without being diluted later.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suco de cajuCashew apple juice

Everyone in Ceará and Rio Grande do Norte has a cashew tree nearby, and in the season, roughly September to December, the fleshy yellow and red cashew apples hang heavily above the nuts. Their juice is the region's everyday drink: pale, cloudy, sweet-tart and faintly astringent, it leaves a slight dryness in the mouth that people love with fried fish or a plate of baião de dois. Fresh cashew apples rarely travel, so outside Brazil use frozen cashew-apple pulp (polpa de caju) from Brazilian shops. This is the fruit, not the nut, but anyone with a cashew allergy should still avoid it. Over-sweetening to hide the astringency is a common mistake, as the juice turns syrupy. Chef's tip: a few drops of lime and plenty of ice soften the dryness far better than extra sugar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suco de cupuaçuCupuaçu juice

Cupuaçu is a big, brown, furry-skinned fruit from the cacao family, and in Belém and Manaus its white pulp shows up in ice cream, sweets and above all juice, sold in every lanchonete and at the Ver-o-Peso market. The pulp is thick, creamy and intensely aromatic, with a flavour somewhere between pineapple, banana and chocolate, and very tart, so it is blended with water and sugar into a frothy, almost milkshake-like juice. Look for frozen cupuaçu pulp in Brazilian and Latin shops. Many cafés blend it with milk instead of water; that version is no longer vegan or dairy free. Too little blending is the usual problem, because the fibrous pulp stays stringy. Chef's tip: blend the pulp from frozen, in chunks, with the sugar and a little water first until smooth, then add the rest of the water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suco de maracujáPassion fruit juice

Brazilian lunch counters, the pratos feitos joints known as PFs, list suco de maracujá on every chalkboard, and many people order it for its famously calming effect after a long morning. Yellow passion fruit is blended briefly with cold water, strained and sweetened, which gives a vivid, perfumed, very tart drink that goes with rice, beans and a grilled steak just as well as with a beach snack. Use wrinkled, heavy fruit for the most juice, or frozen unsweetened pulp from Latin shops. Over-blending is the slip people make: crushed seeds turn the juice gritty and bitter. Chef's tip: blend the pulp with only a little of the water first, in a couple of short pulses, strain, then add the rest of the water and the sugar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CajuínaClarified cashew apple juice

Teresina, the capital of Piauí, treats cajuína as a matter of local pride, and the drink's traditional craft is officially recognised as part of Brazilian cultural heritage. It is cashew-apple juice that has been clarified until crystal clear, bottled and cooked in a water bath until the natural fruit sugars caramelise and turn it amber-gold. No sugar is added. Served ice-cold, it tastes of baked apple and honey with a hint of cashew, smooth and non-alcoholic. Small producers clarify the juice with gelatin or cashew-tree resin; this vegan home version clears it by settling and filtering instead, which takes patience. Real cajuína is shelf-stable thanks to commercial sterilising; this home batch must be kept in the fridge and drunk within a week. Skipping the slow filtering is the usual error, and cloudy juice turns murky brown instead of gold. Chef's tip: let the juice settle in the fridge overnight before filtering and pour off the clear top, leaving the sediment behind.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suco de acerolaAcerola cherry juice

Backyard acerola bushes are everywhere in Pernambuco, Paraíba and the rest of the Northeast, and the small, glossy red cherries fruit several times a year. Blended with water and a little sugar, they make a vivid orange-red juice, tart and cherry-like with a slightly floral finish, famously one of the richest natural sources of vitamin C. Lanchonetes often mix it with orange juice; at home it is the drink kids are handed when they have a cold. Fresh acerolas spoil within days, so outside Brazil use frozen acerola pulp. Letting it stand is the common mistake, since the vitamin C and colour fade quickly once blended. Chef's tip: blend it just before serving, and add the sugar sparingly, about a tablespoon per two glasses, to keep it light.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e albalooSour cherry syrup drink

In early summer, when sour cherries arrive from the orchards around Karaj and Mashhad, families make a big batch of sharbat-e albaloo, the deep ruby syrup that is mixed with iced water for guests through the hot months. It is sweet, sharp and very refreshing, and the cooked cherries left over are not wasted: they go into albaloo polo, the cherry rice. A splash of the syrup also goes over shaved ice or yogurt. Chef's tip: stop cooking as soon as the syrup coats a spoon thinly; overcooked syrup loses its fresh cherry flavour and tastes of jam.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e beh limooQuince and lime syrup drink

Quince and lime syrup is an old-fashioned Persian cooler, the drink grandmothers in Isfahan and Tehran bring out on hot afternoons, said to settle the stomach and cool the body. Grated quince simmered in syrup turns from cream to a soft rosy amber and gives a floral, almost honeyed scent; fresh lime juice cuts through the sweetness. Diluted with iced water, it is lovely after a heavy meal of rice and stew. Chef's tip: cook the grated quince gently for the full time; the colour only turns pink after long, slow simmering.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e khakshirIced rosewater drink with seeds

Khakshir are the tiny reddish seeds of flixweed, and in Yazd, Kashan and across the hot centre of Iran a glass of khakshir sharbat is what people drink on scorching summer afternoons and to break the fast on long Ramadan days. The seeds swell slightly and float through sweet iced water perfumed with rosewater, giving a gentle crunch; some add a squeeze of lime or a little sour cherry syrup. Find khakshir at Iranian grocers. Chef's tip: rinse the seeds in several changes of water and pour off anything that floats; dust and grit come away with it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gol gav zabanBorage flower tea

Gol gav zaban is the calming tea Iranians make on stressful evenings or when a cold is coming on, sold in bags of dried purple flowers by herbalists in the old bazaars of Tehran and Tabriz. Steeped in hot water it turns a dusky blue-brown, then flashes pink the moment lime juice goes in, which children love to watch. It is sipped with a stick of saffron nabat (rock sugar), sometimes with a few dried limes or a pinch of valerian. Persian borage contains small amounts of natural compounds that can strain the liver, so drink it only now and then, and avoid it if you are pregnant, breastfeeding or have liver problems. Chef's tip: steep below boiling and keep the pot covered so the gentle aroma doesn't escape.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ab havij bastaniCarrot juice with saffron ice cream

Every juice bar in Tehran, from Tajrish Square to the stalls of Valiasr Street, sells ab havij bastani: a tall glass of fresh, ice-cold carrot juice with a scoop of saffron ice cream floating on top. People eat it with a long spoon in summer, stirring the melting ice cream into the juice until it turns creamy and pale orange. It is sweet, earthy and cooling, and kids treat it as a dessert. Chef's tip: chill the carrots well before juicing; warm juice melts the ice cream at once and loses its fresh taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mate com limãoIced mate with lime

On Copacabana and Ipanema, vendors in orange uniforms trudge across the hot sand carrying two metal barrels, one of iced mate tea and one of limonada, shouting 'mate, limão!' and mixing the two in a plastic cup for each customer. The tea is chá mate tostado, roasted yerba mate leaves brewed like ordinary tea, with a smoky, toasty taste; with sweet lime lemonade it becomes the definitive carioca beach drink, cold, tangy and gently caffeinated. Toasted mate is sold loose or in tea bags in Brazilian shops; green yerba mate gives a grassier result. Squeezing the limes too hard, or blending them whole, is the usual pitfall, because the white pith turns the lemonade bitter. Chef's tip: brew the tea strong and chill it completely before mixing, so the ice does not dilute it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AguajinaAguaje palm fruit drink

Aguaje is the scaly, chestnut-red fruit of the moriche palm that grows in the flooded forests around Iquitos, and its orange flesh ends up in ice lollies, ice cream and, above all, aguajina, the cold drink sold in plastic cups at every corner and in Belén market. The taste is unusual and loved locally: tangy, a little like apricot and carrot, with a rich, slightly oily body. Fresh aguaje must be softened in warm water for an hour before its thin layer of pulp can be scraped off; outside Peru, frozen aguaje pulp from Latin American shops is the realistic choice and gives a good result. A common slip is adding all the sugar before tasting: the pulp's sourness varies from pack to pack, so sweeten at the end. Serve very cold with lunch or on a hot afternoon. Chef's tip: blend the pulp with only part of the water first, so it breaks down fully, then stir in the rest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChapoPlantain and milk drink

Breakfast stalls in Iquitos and the riverside towns of Loreto pour chapo into glasses from big steaming pots before the heat of the day sets in, and by afternoon the same drink is sold chilled. It is made from plantains left until their skins are black, simmered with cinnamon and cloves until soft, then blended smooth and loosened with milk. The result is thick, naturally sweet and gently spiced, somewhere between a smoothie and a thin custard, and children love it. Some families make it with water only; evaporated milk is the common addition in town. The mistake is using plantains that are still yellow-green: they taste starchy and the drink turns grey and gluey, so wait until the skins are mostly black and the fruit gives when pressed. Serve hot with bread or a tamal, or cold over ice. Chef's tip: strain it through a sieve after blending for a silky drink, and thin it with water if it thickens as it cools.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Camu camuCamu camu berry juice

Camu camu are small purple-red berries that grow on bushes along the flooded riverbanks of the Peruvian Amazon, and in Iquitos and Pucallpa they are sold as frozen pulp and blended into a sharp, pink refresco at juice bars and lunch places. The flavour is intensely sour, more than lime, with a faint cherry note, and the berries are famous for containing far more vitamin C than oranges. It is the drink people order with a heavy plate of tacacho or rice. Never boil camu camu or make the juice hours ahead: heat and air quickly fade its colour and much of the vitamin C, so blend it cold and drink it soon. Frozen pulp or freeze-dried powder from health-food and Latin shops are the forms you'll find abroad. Chef's tip: start with half the pulp and add more to taste; it's strong enough that a little goes a long way.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChampúsMote corn and pineapple drink

When Lima's grey winter sets in, from June to September, champús sellers set up on street corners with big pots of this thick, fruity drink, ladled warm into glasses and eaten as much as drunk. It's made from mote (hulled white corn), simmered with pineapple, quince or apple, soursop, chancaca and warm spices, then thickened lightly with corn flour, so every spoonful has soft fruit and chewy corn in a spiced, molasses-sweet base. It is close in spirit to mazamorra morada but paler and tangier. The mistake people make is adding the thickener straight into the hot pot, where it forms lumps; always slake it in cold water first and pour it in while stirring. Canned or jarred hominy saves hours; frozen soursop (guanábana) pulp is in Latin shops and can be left out. Serve warm in glasses with spoons. Chef's tip: simmer the pineapple peel and core with the spices for the first 20 minutes, then strain them out; they give much of the flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

EmolienteBarley and flaxseed herbal drink

Before dawn, all over Peru, emolienteros set up their carts with a row of steaming kettles and jars of herbs, and commuters stop for a glass of emoliente on the way to work. It's a hot infusion of toasted barley, flaxseed and herbs, with lime juice and sugar added to order, and it is drunk for comfort and digestion, especially in Lima's damp winter. The flaxseed gives it a slippery, soothing body; the barley a toasty, almost coffee-like note. Street versions use horsetail, alfalfa, boldo and other herbs; this home version keeps it simple, with horsetail as an option (leave it out if you are pregnant or have kidney problems). The usual error is boiling the flax too long, which makes the drink gloopy; add it for the last 10 minutes only. Serve very hot in glasses, with pan con queso or a sandwich. Barley contains gluten. Chef's tip: toast the barley yourself until it is deep brown; it's what gives emoliente its colour and its roasted flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 120 of 495 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 16 of 21

More collections