Skip to content

Mocktails and cool drinks

Sharbats, lassis, juices and coolers with no alcohol. (485 recipes)

Ivan-chai (fireweed tea)

Long before Chinese tea reached ordinary villages, peasants around Koporye near St Petersburg, and on through Karelia and the Arkhangelsk forests, were rolling and fermenting the leaves of fireweed, the tall pink-flowered plant that floods clearings every July. Ivan-chai is having a revival now, sold in paper bags at markets and drunk at the dacha in the evening from the samovar, because it has no caffeine and will not keep anyone awake. It brews to a clear amber with a soft, slightly fruity, honey-and-dried-apple taste and almost no bitterness. Granular kinds taste deeper, leaf kinds more floral. The common mistake is brewing it for two or three minutes like black tea; it needs a full 10 minutes in a warmed pot to open up, and it never turns bitter if you leave it longer. It is ready when the liquid is a deep golden-amber and smells of honey and dried fruit. It is traditionally drunk as a calming evening tea; if you are pregnant or on regular medication, check with a doctor before drinking it daily. Chef's tip: the same leaves give a second, lighter pot; just top up with fresh hot water and wait another 10 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CortaditoEspresso with steamed milk

Havana runs on small cups of coffee: a cafecito standing at a ventanita, a colada shared in tiny plastic cups at work, and in the afternoon or with breakfast, a cortadito, which is Cuban coffee cut (cortado) with roughly as much hot milk. The coffee is brewed in a stovetop cafetera, and the first dark drops are whipped hard with sugar into a pale, thick espumita that floats on top of the cup. The result is rich, very sweet and caramel-like, with a velvety milk body and a strong, bitter edge underneath. It is high in caffeine, so it is not one for children. The common mistake is adding sugar to the pot or stirring it in at the end; without the espumita you get a thin, flat drink. Beat the first concentrated coffee with the sugar until it turns light tan and holds soft folds, then pour in the rest. It is ready when a pale foam floats on the cup and the milk has been heated until steaming, with small bubbles around the edge but not boiling. Chef's tip: catch only the first 2–3 teaspoons of coffee for the foam; later coffee is too thin to whip.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Surinamese dawetCoconut milk and lemongrass drink

Javanese Surinamers brought dawet from Java, and today it is sold cold from big jars at warungs in Lelydorp and the Paramaribo district of Blauwgrond, especially on hot Sunday afternoons. In Suriname it has become its own drink, quite different from the Malaysian cendol with its green noodles: chilled coconut milk sweetened with a lemongrass and pandan syrup, often tinted pale pink and studded with soaked basil seeds or soft jelly strips. The common mistake is boiling the coconut milk, which makes it split and taste flat; it should only be warmed. Chef's tip: bruise the lemongrass hard with a rolling pin before simmering it, so the syrup tastes bright and lemony.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sorbete de curubaBanana passionfruit milk drink

In Colombia a sorbete is not an ice but a fruit milkshake, and around Bogotá and the cold highlands of Boyacá and Cundinamarca the classic is made with curuba, the long, soft-skinned banana passionfruit that grows on vines at 2,500 metres. Bakeries and corrientazo lunch spots serve it with almuerzo or with a slice of cake at onces, the late-afternoon snack. It is pale salmon-pink, creamy and sweet-tart, more delicate than passionfruit, with a fragrance like guava and lemon. The common mistake is blending the pulp with its black seeds on high speed: the seeds break up and the sorbete turns bitter and grey-flecked. Pulse just enough to loosen the pulp from the seeds, strain, and only then blend with milk. Serve it at once, because the acid in curuba thickens the milk the longer it stands. It is ready when it is smooth, frothy and pink with no gritty specks. Outside Colombia look for frozen curuba pulp in Latin shops; passionfruit pulp works too, but use about two thirds of the amount as it is stronger. Chef's tip: dissolve the sugar in the strained juice before the milk goes in, so you can blend for less time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BusheraSoured sorghum drink

In the hills of Kigezi around Kabale, a calabash of obushera is offered to visitors and carried to the fields in the afternoon; the same drink, left for days, becomes beer, but the everyday family version is drunk young and contains no meaningful alcohol. Sorghum flour is cooked into a thin porridge, cooled, then left overnight with a spoonful of sprouted sorghum flour to sour gently, so it tastes tangy, malty and refreshing, a little like a drinking yoghurt made from grain. Drink it chilled on its own or with roasted groundnuts. The mistake people make is leaving it out too long: after a day it starts to fizz and turn alcoholic, so taste it, then chill it. Chef's tip: sweeten only just before serving, as sugar added early speeds up the ferment.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mugicha (roasted barley tea)

From the rainy season in June until the cicadas fall quiet in September, almost every Japanese household keeps a tall jug of mugicha in the fridge. It is poured for children coming in from summer club practice, for grandparents after an afternoon nap, and alongside cold sōmen at lunch, because it carries no caffeine and can be drunk all day. Whole barley grains roasted until deep brown give a cup that tastes of toast, a little of coffee and a little of popcorn, with a clean, dry finish and no sweetness at all. Supermarkets sell it in tea bags, but loose roasted grains simmered in a pan make a rounder, darker brew. The usual mistake is leaving the grains in the jug or letting the hot tea sit out on the counter for hours: it turns bitter and, being a grain infusion, it sours quickly in summer heat. Strain it, cool it fast in a sink of cold water, and drink it within two days. It is ready when the liquid is a clear amber-brown and smells like freshly toasted bread. Chef's tip: dry-toast the grains for two minutes before brewing to wake up a bag that has been open a while.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e zaferan (saffron sherbet)

Big steel urns of golden saffron sherbet are poured for guests at Iranian weddings and engagement parties, and the same drink is handed out on the street as nazri during Muharram and at memorial gatherings, when families offer something sweet and cool in the name of the departed. Saffron from Khorasan is ground with a sugar cube, bloomed in a little water and stirred into syrup with rose water and lemon. The result is honey-sweet and floral, with saffron's faint bitterness and hay-like perfume at the end, and a colour that should be a clear, sunny orange-gold. The usual mistake is dropping whole threads straight into cold water, which gives a pale, patchy drink and wastes expensive saffron; grind it first and let it bloom for at least 10 minutes. You know the bloom is ready when the water is a deep red-orange and smells strongly of saffron. Taste before serving: it should be sweet but finish clean, with the lemon just noticeable. Chef's tip: an ice cube placed on the ground saffron and left to melt slowly gives the deepest colour of all, an old Iranian trick.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Teh talua (egg tea)

In the lapau coffee shops of Bukittinggi, Payakumbuh and Padang, the sound of a spoon or a small whisk clattering against a glass means someone has ordered teh talua. A raw egg yolk, traditionally from a free-range kampung hen or a duck, is whisked with sugar until thick and almost white, strong hot tea is poured on from a height, and a wedge of lime goes on the side. Minangkabau men drink it in the late afternoon or evening as a pick-me-up after work in the fields. It comes out with a creamy, caramel-coloured body under a deep layer of foam, rich like a light custard, with the lime cutting any eggy edge. The common mistake is whisking too little: the yolk stays yellow, the tea curdles it in strings and it smells of egg. Beat until the yolk has doubled in volume and falls in a thick ribbon. Use pasteurised eggs for anyone pregnant, babies and small children, older people or anyone unwell, as the yolk is only lightly warmed. Some lapau add condensed milk; this one is dairy-free. It contains caffeine. Chef's tip: pour the tea in a thin stream from high up while still stirring, to build the tallest foam.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e rivas (rhubarb sherbet)

For a few weeks in spring, after Nowruz, sellers come down from the Alborz foothills, the mountains of Khorasan and Kurdistan with bundles of rivas, the thick-stalked wild rhubarb. People peel and eat the stalks raw with salt, cook them into khoresh, and boil the rest into syrup to keep the taste of the season into summer. Sharbat-e rivas is pink, sharp and refreshing, like sour cherry and green apple together, softened by sugar and lifted by mint. The common mistake is boiling the rhubarb hard and pressing it through the sieve, which makes the syrup cloudy, brownish and stringy; simmer gently and let it drip on its own. Use only the stalks, never the leaves, which are poisonous. The syrup is ready when it is clear, rose-coloured and coats a spoon in a thin film; it keeps for two weeks in a clean bottle in the fridge, and should be thrown away if it fizzes, smells of alcohol or grows mould. Garden rhubarb is a good substitute for rivas; the reddest stalks give the prettiest colour. Chef's tip: a strip of lemon peel in the pot brightens the colour and stops the syrup tasting flat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TizanaFruit in orange juice

On Sunday afternoons in Caracas, juice stands along the boulevards of Sabana Grande and the Plaza Altamira, and street carts outside beaches and parks, sell tizana in tall plastic cups with a straw and a long spoon. It is half drink, half fruit salad: papaya, pineapple, melon, watermelon, apple, mango and banana cut into tiny dice and soaked in orange juice tinted ruby with grenadine. At home it is made by the jug for birthday parties and hot holidays. It tastes juicy, sweet and bright, and every sip brings a different fruit up the straw. The common mistake is adding the banana and apple with everything else an hour early: they turn brown and mushy and cloud the juice. Cut them last and stir them in just before serving. The tizana is ready when the fruit has soaked for about 30 minutes in the fridge, the juice has turned a clear coral-pink and the pieces are cold right through. Make the dice no bigger than 1 cm so they pass up a wide straw. Grenadine here means pomegranate syrup; a red fruit syrup works too. Chef's tip: squeeze a little lime over the cut apple and banana to keep them pale and add a tang that lifts the whole jug.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Yansoon (anise tea)

Every Cairo ahwa has yansoon on its menu, chalked up next to tea and helba, and in Egyptian homes it is the drink of evenings, colds and upset stomachs. It is made with green aniseed, often from Upper Egypt, simmered briefly and sweetened. People reach for it after a feast at Eid, during winter coughs, or simply at night because it is caffeine-free and traditionally drunk to calm and help sleep. It is pale gold and sweet, with a soft liquorice scent and a slightly peppery warmth at the end. Many Egyptian mothers give a weak version to infants, but herbal teas are not suitable for babies under six months; ask your doctor first. The common mistake is boiling the seeds for too long, which makes the tea cloudy and bitter: crush them lightly, boil for only a few minutes, then let them steep off the heat. Also do not swap in star anise, a different plant with a harsher taste. It is ready when the liquid is light golden and smells strongly of anise when you lift the lid. Chef's tip: a thin slice of lemon or a few drops of lemon juice brightens the cup without hiding the anise.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Horchata lojanaHerbal flower infusion

In Loja and the valleys of Vilcabamba and Malacatos, horchata has nothing to do with rice: it is a pink herbal infusion of anything up to twenty garden plants, drunk hot at breakfast and after lunch, or cold from the fridge on warm afternoons. Markets sell the herbs in bundles: cedrón, hierbaluisa, toronjil, mint, chamomile, mallow, and the red-leaved escancel and ataco (red amaranth) that give the colour. It tastes lemony, floral and faintly silky, and turns from ruby to bright pink the moment lemon juice goes in. The common mistake is boiling all the herbs hard, which makes it bitter and grassy; only the tough flaxseed and lemongrass simmer, and the soft leaves steep off the heat. It is ready when the liquid is deep red-pink and smells of lemon and flowers. Abroad, Latin shops sell dried mixes; dried hibiscus gives the colour if you lack amaranth. It is traditionally drunk to settle the stomach; if you are pregnant or on medication, check with a doctor before drinking it daily. Chef's tip: add lemon at the table, glass by glass, to watch the colour change.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Calamansi juice

Every Filipino household seems to have a calamansi bush or a bag of the little green fruit in the fridge, from Manila condos to farmhouses in Mindoro, the island that grows most of them. At lunch in the dry season the juice comes out iced in a big pitcher; in the rainy months, when everyone has a cough, a lola stirs the same juice into hot water with a little sugar or honey and hands it over at bedtime. It tastes like a lime crossed with a mandarin: sharp, floral and slightly bitter at the edges, with a pale green-gold colour. The usual mistake is squeezing the fruit hard and letting the seeds and pith fall in, which turns the juice bitter within minutes; halve each fruit across, squeeze gently over a small strainer and stop before the peel folds. It is ready when the sugar has fully dissolved, the juice tastes bright rather than harsh and a cold glass fogs on the outside. Chef's tip: dissolve the sugar in a little warm water first, as it never melts properly in iced juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Neer mor (spiced buttermilk)

From April to June, when Chennai and Madurai bake at forty degrees, temples, shops and political parties set up 'thaneer pandhal' sheds by the roadside, offering free neer mor to every passer-by from great clay pots. At home it comes after a rice meal of sambar and rasam, or in the middle of the afternoon. The curd is churned and thinned with water until barely white, then seasoned with green chilli, ginger, curry leaves, coriander and a pinch of asafoetida, sometimes finished with a tempering of mustard seeds. It should be very thin, salty, tangy and herby, with a little chilli heat and a lingering savoury scent. The common mistake is using too little water: it then drinks like a heavy lassi rather than a thirst-quencher. Aim for about one part curd to four parts water. It is ready when the buttermilk is smooth, cold and pale green-flecked, and smells of curry leaf. It keeps a day in the fridge. Chef's tip: crush the ginger, chilli and curry leaves rather than chopping them; bruising releases far more flavour into the thin liquid.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kapeng barakoStrong Liberica coffee

In Lipa and the hill towns of Batangas, mornings start with kapeng barako boiled in a dented aluminium kaldero and poured into enamel mugs, often next to pandesal, a slab of tapang Taal or a plate of suman. Barako is Liberica, a large-beaned coffee that grows on tall trees around Mount Malarayat, and the word itself means a strong, rough-mannered man. The cup is heavy and earthy with notes of jackfruit, dark chocolate and smoke, and it is sweetened with sticky muscovado from Negros or Antique, never with white sugar. It carries plenty of caffeine, so go easy if you are sensitive and keep it away from children. The usual mistake is keeping the pot at a rolling boil once the coffee is in: the grounds stew and the drink turns sour and harsh. Bring the water to the boil, then take it off the heat before adding the coffee. The brew is ready when the crust of grounds sinks after the splash of cold water and the liquid underneath is a clear, deep mahogany. Chef's tip: grind it coarse, like raw sugar, so it settles cleanly in the pot.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jugo de macaWarm maca drink

Before dawn at markets in Huancayo, Cusco and Lima, juice ladies ladle hot jugo de maca from big pots for workers on their way in: maca root, a turnip relative grown above 4,000 metres in the Junín highlands, simmered with milk, cinnamon and cloves and sweetened with honey or sugar. It tastes malty and toasty, a bit like butterscotch. The common mistake is stirring the powder straight into hot milk, which leaves gritty lumps; whisk it into a little cold milk first. Maca is not usually advised in pregnancy, so ask your doctor first if you are pregnant. Chef's tip: use gelatinised (cooked) maca powder if you can find it; it dissolves smoothly and is gentler on the stomach.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cà phê cốt dừa (coconut coffee)

Hanoi takes its coffee seriously, and in the last fifteen years coconut coffee has become one of the city's signatures, sold from Old Quarter cafés, lakeside balconies around Hoàn Kiếm and tiny stools on the pavement. It is a hot-weather drink, at its best on a sticky afternoon between May and September, eaten half with a spoon. Strong Vietnamese robusta drips slowly through an aluminium phin, then is poured over a pale slush of thick coconut cream, sweetened condensed milk and crushed ice, so you get bitter, dark coffee against something rich and cold that tastes like coconut ice cream. The common mistake is blending the slush too long or with too much ice, which leaves it thin and watery, and pouring the coffee in boiling hot so the slush collapses. Blend just until it looks like soft snow, and let the coffee cool for a minute or two. It is ready when the slush holds a spoon upright and the coffee sits in a dark layer on top. Robusta is high in caffeine and this is a strong drink, so it is not for children and one glass is plenty. Chef's tip: chill the coconut cream overnight; cold, thick cream gives a fluffier slush.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ranawara teaTanner's cassia flower tea

Ranawara, tanner's cassia, is a scrubby shrub with bright golden flowers that grows wild along dry-zone roadsides and in gardens from Kurunegala to Jaffna. The flowers are picked, dried in the shade and sold in packets at every Sri Lankan supermarket and ayurvedic shop, and many households drink a cup each morning instead of plantain tea, traditionally believing it helps balance blood sugar and cool the body during the hot season. It brews into a pale golden-yellow tea with a mild, grassy, slightly beany taste and a gentle bitterness, which is why it is drunk with a piece of jaggery or a spoon of kithul treacle. The common mistake is brewing the flowers with too little water or for too long: the bitterness takes over. A good pinch per cup, a short simmer and a few minutes' steep is enough. It is ready when it is clear and bright yellow and smells like dried hay. Ranawara is a senna-family plant: do not drink it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, do not give it to young children, and check with a doctor if you take diabetes or other regular medication. Chef's tip: add a few dried flowers to the cup when serving; they float and turn the colour even more golden.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Melon juice (cantaloupe drink)

Afternoon merienda across the Philippines means something cold from a plastic cooler at the school gate, a jeepney stop or a carinderia: sago't gulaman, buko juice or this melon drink, with ribbons of orange cantaloupe suspended in sweet water. Vendors scrape the melon with a special spiral shredder, a kayod ng melon, so you get thin strands to chew through a fat straw. It tastes fresh, sweet and gently musky, more refreshing than a smoothie because the water stays clear and light; some stalls add evaporated milk, but the plain version is the classic. The common mistake is using a melon that is not fully ripe, which gives pale, crunchy strands and a flat drink; choose one that smells sweet at the stem end and gives slightly when pressed there. Shred straight into the jug so the juice from the melon is not lost. It is ready when the strands are soft and floating, the water has turned faintly orange and it tastes of melon rather than plain syrup. Chef's tip: a box grater's coarse side or a fork scraped along the flesh both work if you don't own a melon shredder.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Thambili (king coconut water)

All along Sri Lanka's roads, from Galle Road in Colombo to the highways into Kandy and the beaches of the south coast, vendors stack bright orange king coconuts in pyramids under umbrellas. The thambili is a variety grown on the island for drinking: smaller than a green coconut and sweeter, with a faint saltiness that makes it more refreshing than any bottled drink. It is drunk any time of day in the heat, after a long bus ride, after a cricket match, and given to people recovering from a fever because it is gentle on the stomach. The water is clear, lightly sweet and nutty, and the soft jelly inside is eaten with a spoon made from a slice of the husk. The common mistake is hacking at the side of the nut; the blade glances off and the water spills. Trim the pointed top with downward strokes until a pale circle shows, then pierce it. It is ready to drink when a small hole opens straight into the water without husk fibres. Outside Sri Lanka, young green or Thai coconuts are the nearest substitute. Chef's tip: chill the coconuts for a few hours before opening; the water tastes sweeter cold, and use a heavy knife and a towel, keeping fingers well clear.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mongolian salty milk tea

Süütei tsai is the first thing offered to anyone who steps into a ger on the Mongolian steppe, from Arkhangai to the Gobi, and families drink it all day long from wide bowls. Green brick tea is boiled in water, then milk and a pinch of salt go in, and the tea is ladled high and poured back again and again to aerate it. Some households add a knob of butter or a spoon of toasted millet for a richer, more filling bowl. It is savoury, not sweet, which surprises first-time visitors. A common mistake is using black tea leaves, which go bitter; use green brick tea or a mild green tea. Chef's tip: the ladling is not just ritual, it gives the tea a smooth, rounded taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tisane de tilleul (linden tea)

Carpentras, at the foot of Mont Ventoux, has been France's linden capital for over a century. In late June the flowering lime trees are harvested by hand, the blossoms and their pale papery bracts dried in the shade, and in July the town's linden market sells them by the sack. In French homes a tisane de tilleul is what you drink after dinner, at the end of a long day or before bed, often with a slice of lemon or a little honey; Proust's famous madeleine was dipped in one. It tastes softly floral and sweet, a little like honey and fresh hay, with a smooth, almost silky feel. The common mistake is using fully boiling water and steeping for fifteen minutes: the tea turns dull brown and slightly astringent. Let the kettle settle to about 90 °C and steep for 5–7 minutes, covered. It is ready when the infusion is pale gold and smells of a summer garden. It is traditionally drunk to unwind; if you take regular medication, have a heart condition, or want to give it to young children, check with a doctor first. Chef's tip: keep the pot covered while it steeps so the scented oils stay in the tea instead of the kitchen.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè alla nocciolaEspresso with hazelnut cream

Naples takes its espresso seriously, and its bars along Via Toledo and the Lungomare also serve this richer cousin: a small glass cup smeared with hazelnut cream, a hot ristretto poured in, and a cap of cremina, the pale foam Neapolitans make by beating the first drops of coffee with sugar. It is drunk standing at the counter at mid-morning or after lunch as a little treat, and in summer the same flavours come as a cold crema al caffè. It tastes of roasted hazelnut and dark coffee, sweet and nutty, with a soft, airy foam that melts into the cup. The common mistake is whisking the cremina with too much coffee: it stays liquid and never turns pale. Use just a teaspoon of the first, thick drops and beat hard. It is ready when the foam is light beige, thick and falls from the spoon in ribbons. Espresso means a fair amount of caffeine, so keep this one for grown-ups. Chef's tip: warm the glass under hot water first and swirl the hazelnut cream up the sides; the hot coffee melts it into stripes as it goes in.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HojichaRoasted green tea

Hojicha was born in Kyoto in the 1920s, when tea merchants started roasting the coarse late-season bancha leaves and stems over charcoal to sell what would not keep. Today the smell of tea roasting in a shop doorway is part of walking down Teramachi or past the Nishiki market. Roasting drives off much of the caffeine and all the grassy bitterness, so hojicha is the pot that comes out after an evening meal, with rice crackers, or for children and older relatives who avoid stronger tea. The cup is reddish brown, smells of caramel and roasted nuts, and tastes soft and slightly sweet with almost no astringency. Unlike sencha, it likes really hot water and a very short steep. The common mistake is treating it like black tea and leaving the leaves in for several minutes, which makes it flat and woody; 30 seconds is enough for the first pour, and the leaves give a good second pot. It is ready when the liquor is clear russet and the steam smells of toasted sugar. Chef's tip: if your packet has lost its perfume, warm the leaves in a dry pan for 30 seconds until they smoke very faintly before brewing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Citron presséFresh lemon drink

Order a citron pressé on a Paris terrace in July, or at a café in Nice after the beach, and the waiter brings a tall glass with an inch of freshly squeezed lemon juice, a carafe of iced water, a sugar bowl or a little jug of syrup and a long spoon. You build the drink yourself, as sharp or as sweet as you like, which is half the pleasure; French children learn to drink it with plenty of sugar, grown-ups often with almost none. It is bright, sour and cleansing, nothing like bottled lemonade, and best in the late afternoon heat. The common mistake is stirring granulated sugar straight into cold lemon water: it sinks and never dissolves, so the first sips are sour and the last a sludge. Dissolve the sugar in the juice first, or use a quick syrup. It is ready when the sugar has vanished, the drink tastes balanced to you and the glass is beaded with cold. Unwaxed lemons matter if you add a twist of peel. Chef's tip: pour the water over ice slowly and taste after half the carafe; most people find they need less water than they expect.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Beli mal (bael flower tea)

Beli mal is the herbal tea almost every Sri Lankan grandmother keeps in a tin. The small white flowers of the bael tree, the sacred tree found around temples and village gardens, are dried in the sun and brewed into a fragrant, amber drink that tastes softly floral, slightly fruity and a little bitter, a bit like a lighter chamomile. It is drunk in the morning or in the evening instead of black tea, offered at almsgivings and alongside kevum and kokis at Avurudu, and is traditionally taken after rich food to help digestion. Coriander seeds and a slice of ginger are a common addition at home. The custom is to sip it hot with a small piece of kithul jaggery held in the mouth, or stirred in. The common mistake is boiling the flowers fast for a long time: the tea turns dark and unpleasantly bitter. Simmer gently for a few minutes and then let it steep off the heat. It is ready when the tea is clear amber and smells sweet and flowery. It is caffeine-free, but bael may lower blood sugar, so check with a doctor if you take diabetes medication or are pregnant. Chef's tip: buy flowers that look pale cream; dark brown, crumbly ones are old.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TahoWarm tofu with syrup and sago

Before eight in the morning in any Philippine barangay you hear the call "Tahooo!" as the magtataho walks past with two aluminium buckets balanced on a shoulder pole: one holds warm, wobbly silken tofu, the other dark arnibal syrup and sago. He scoops paper-thin layers of tofu into a plastic cup with a flat ladle, pours syrup over and adds the pearls, and children eat it standing at the gate with a spoon or slurp it through a wide straw. The taste is caramel and soy milk; the texture is custard-soft tofu against chewy pearls. Baguio has its own pink strawberry version. The common mistake is cooking the sago in too little water or not stirring at the start, so the pearls glue into a lump; use plenty of boiling water and stir for the first two minutes. The sago is ready when the pearls are translucent with only a tiny white dot left in the centre, and the arnibal is right when it coats a spoon like thin maple syrup. Chef's tip: steam the tofu in its box or bowl rather than boiling it, so it stays in one silky piece. Small sago pearls are a choking risk for babies and toddlers, so serve them only to older children.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café con lecheCoffee with hot milk

Every morning from Havana to Miami's Little Havana, breakfast is a big cup of café con leche with a length of buttered, pressed Cuban bread (tostada) to dunk in it. A moka pot of dark espresso-style coffee is whipped with sugar into a pale foam, the espumita, and poured into a mug of hot, lightly salted milk. The usual mistake is boiling the milk, which gives it a skin and a cooked taste; heat it only until it steams. Coffee contains caffeine, so this is a grown-up drink; children traditionally get a cup that is mostly milk. Chef's tip: whisk the first few drops of coffee hard with the sugar to a thick paste before adding the rest; that is what makes the creamy espumita on top.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

'OtaiWatermelon and coconut drink

'Otai is the drink of the Tongan summer, ladled from big bowls at church feasts, weddings and beach picnics around Tongatapu. Watermelon is grated or mashed into chunky pulp and mixed with coconut milk, a little sugar and lots of ice; some families add grated mango or pineapple. It is drunk and eaten at the same time, with pieces of fruit in every glass. A common mistake is blending it smooth; it should be pulpy. Chef's tip: grate the melon on the coarse side of a box grater straight into the bowl to catch all the juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kafae boran (old-style Thai coffee)

Before espresso bars reached Bangkok, coffee in Thailand meant kafae boran from Hainanese-Chinese shophouses and market carts: a dark robusta roast mixed with toasted grains, poured through a long cotton sock called a tung tom and stirred into thick sweetened condensed milk. Uncles still order it hot at 6 am with patongko dough sticks, and in the afternoon heat the same brew is poured over crushed ice and topped with evaporated milk as oliang or kafae yen. The taste is strong, roasty and slightly smoky, sweet and creamy, with a faint caramel-cereal edge from the grains; the iced version is silky and cold. The common mistake is brewing it like filter coffee with too little grounds: once milk and ice go in, it tastes thin. Use plenty, steep it in the sock and pour it through twice. The brew is ready when it is opaque, nearly black and leaves a brown film on a white spoon. It is high in caffeine, so not one for children or late evenings. Chef's tip: rinse the cloth sock in hot water only, never soap, and keep it in a jar of clean water in the fridge between uses so the coffee oils season it.

10 minThaiDrinksGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hongzao guiyuan cha (red date and longan tea)

Across southern China, from Fujian to Guangdong, a pot of red dates and dried longan is what mothers and grandmothers put on the stove when the weather turns cold, and it is the classic drink brought to new mothers during zuo yuezi, the month of rest after childbirth. It is also sipped through the winter in the afternoon, or offered to visitors at Lunar New Year because the red dates promise sweetness ahead. The tea is amber-brown, naturally sweet and fruity, with a caramel, smoky depth from the longan and a gentle warmth if you add ginger. The common mistake is simmering whole dates: their skins stay tight and the tea tastes thin. Slit or tear each date so the flesh can give up its sweetness, then simmer slowly. It is ready when the dates are puffed and soft, the longan has swollen and the liquid is the colour of weak tea and tastes of toffee. It is traditionally drunk for comfort and warmth, not as a medicine; it is high in natural sugar, so go easy if you watch your blood sugar, and goji can interact with blood-thinning medicines, so check with a doctor if you take them. Chef's tip: eat the softened fruit from the bottom of the cup with a spoon; nothing is wasted.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café de higoFig and grain coffee

In the farmhouses of central Chile, in the Maule and O'Higgins valleys, people have long drunk café de higo: a dark, caffeine-free "coffee" made from dried figs roasted with grains such as barley and wheat, then ground. It's mellow, fruity and slightly caramel-like, and many Chileans still prefer it with milk at breakfast. The fig granules are sold in Chilean and Latin grocers. The common mistake is brewing it like instant coffee, with a quick stir; it's a ground blend, so simmer it briefly and strain. It contains grains, so it is not gluten free. Chef's tip: a strip of orange peel in the pan brings out the fig flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Douzhi (fermented mung bean drink)

Douzhi is the breakfast that divides Beijing. It is the sour liquid left over when mung beans are ground and their starch settles out to make noodles and jelly; left to ferment for a day or two, the grey-green whey turns tangy, a little cheesy and sulphurous. Old Beijingers drink it piping hot at dawn in hutong shops around Qianmen and Huguosi, with a dish of finely shredded salty pickle dressed in chilli oil and crisp fried dough rings (jiaoquan) from the bakery. First-timers often say it smells like stale socks; regulars say it tastes like home. The texture is thin and slightly creamy, the flavour sour, a little bitter and savoury. The common mistake is boiling the soured starch hard: it separates into grey water and sludge. Bring it up slowly, stirring, and take it off as soon as it froths. The ferment makes only a trace of alcohol, well under 1%. Ferment at 20–25 °C; normal signs are fine bubbles, a sour, yogurt-like smell and a grey colour. Discard it if you see fuzzy mould, pink or black patches, a slimy texture or a putrid smell. Chef's tip: save 100 ml of a good batch to start the next one, as Beijing workshops do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Nam lamyai (longan drink)

Longan orchards cover the valleys of Chiang Mai and Lamphun, and every August the harvest is smoked and dried in big brick ovens so the fruit lasts all year. That dried lamyai is the base of nam lamyai, sold in plastic bags with a straw at Warorot Market, at roadside stalls on the way to Doi Suthep and in school canteens across the north, especially in the hot season from March to May. It tastes like toffee and smoked honey with a light floral note, and each glass comes with a few plump, chewy longans at the bottom to fish out. The common mistake is boiling the fruit too long with all the sugar at the start: the drink turns syrupy and the longans go mushy. Simmer the fruit first, sweeten at the end and taste before adding everything. It is ready when the liquid is clear amber-brown, the longans have swollen back to roughly their fresh size and the kitchen smells of caramel. It keeps 4 days in a closed jug in the fridge. Chef's tip: a tiny pinch of salt is the street-vendor trick that makes the sweetness taste rounder and brings out the smoky edge.

30 minThaiDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Paneer soda (rose soda)

Every Tamil town once had a soda shop with crates of Codd-neck bottles sealed by a glass marble, and the pop of the marble being pushed down was the sound of a hot afternoon. Paneer here means rose water, not cheese, and paneer soda is rose syrup topped with that sharp local fizz, sold in Madurai, Tiruchi and Coimbatore by the bus stand and at temple festival stalls in Chithirai and Vaikasi, the hottest months. It is sweet and floral at first, then the bubbles and a touch of lime cut through and leave the mouth clean. The mistake most people make is boiling the rose water with the sugar: the scent cooks away and you are left with plain syrup. Make the syrup first, let it cool, and only then stir in the rose water. The syrup is ready when it is clear and slightly thickened, like thin honey, and the finished drink should be rosy pink and still foaming as you hand it over. Chef's tip: chill the syrup, the soda and the glasses well; warm soda loses its fizz the moment it meets the syrup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gondhoraj gholLime-scented yogurt drink

In Kolkata the gondhoraj lime arrives with the monsoon heat, a knobbly green fruit whose peel smells of flowers and pine more than of sour citrus. Bengali households use it to lift dal and fish, but in the sticky months from Boishakh into Srabon it goes into ghol: dahi churned with cold water until frothy, sweetened lightly and scented with the zest, a squeeze of juice and a torn leaf. Cafés along Gariahat and old sweet shops serve it in clay bhaar cups after lunch, and it is just as good mid-afternoon with a plate of muri. It drinks thin, cool and silky, with a soft tang and a perfume that hits the nose before the first sip. The usual mistake is grating too deep or leaving the zest to sit for an hour: the white pith and the oils turn bitter. Take only the green outer layer, add it just before serving, and stop when the ghol smells floral rather than sharp. It is ready when the top is covered in fine foam and a spoon comes out lightly coated. Chef's tip: for the salted version, swap the sugar for black salt and a pinch of roasted cumin, as many Kolkata homes do on the hottest days.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suanmeitang (sour plum drink)

Old Beijing sold suanmeitang from brass bowls at street corners in summer, chilled with blocks of river ice, and the Qing court drank a version as a cooler. Today it comes in big jugs at copper-pot hotpot restaurants, where its sourness cuts through mutton and sesame sauce; families brew a pot every few days all summer. Smoked wumei plums give a deep, almost bacon-like smokiness, hawthorn adds fruity acid, licorice softens the edges and rock sugar rounds everything off, with dried osmanthus on top for a honeyed scent. It should be dark ruby, clear and refreshing, tart first and sweet after. The common mistake is boiling it hard for hours: the plum stones and hawthorn seeds release bitterness and the brew turns muddy. Simmer gently, strain early and chill fast. It is ready when the plums have collapsed and the liquid tastes clearly sour-sweet with a smoky finish. Licorice root is traditionally used in small amounts; people with high blood pressure, heart or kidney problems, or who are pregnant should keep the licorice out or check with a doctor. Chef's tip: add the osmanthus only after the heat is off, or its perfume vanishes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Haldi doodh (turmeric milk)

In homes from Punjab to Kerala, a mother or grandmother hands round haldi doodh on cold winter nights, after a fall in the playground or whenever someone starts sniffling; it is drunk at bedtime, steaming, in a steel tumbler. Milk is simmered with turmeric, a few grinds of black pepper and sometimes ginger or cinnamon, then sweetened with jaggery. It is golden, warming and gently earthy, with a soft peppery heat and a slightly grainy feel if the turmeric is fresh-ground. It is traditionally drunk for colds and aches, as a comfort rather than a cure. The common mistake is adding raw turmeric powder to hot milk at the end: it tastes chalky and bitter. Simmer it in the milk for a few minutes so the raw edge cooks out. It is ready when the milk turns an even deep yellow, smells mellow and has a thin skin forming on top. Add jaggery off the heat, as it can curdle boiling milk. Turmeric stains, so use a steel pan. Chef's tip: a teaspoon of ghee stirred in at the end makes it rounder and is how many families make it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Akajiso juice (red shiso cordial)

Bunches of red shiso fill Japanese greengrocers for a few weeks in June and July, mostly bought to colour umeboshi. Gardeners from Kyoto's Ohara valley to Kantō boil the surplus into this cordial and keep it in the fridge for hot afternoons. Simmering pulls a murky purple-brown liquid from the leaves; the magic is the moment the vinegar goes in and the whole pan flushes a brilliant clear magenta. Diluted with ice water or soda water it tastes sweet-sour and herbal, like a cross between blackcurrant, mint and cinnamon. The most common mistake is simmering the leaves too long or with the stems: it turns grassy and bitter. Strip the leaves, boil them for five minutes only, until they have turned green and limp, then lift them out. The cordial is ready when it is jewel-bright and clear. Bottle it in a clean, sterilised bottle and keep it in the fridge for up to three weeks; discard if it fizzes, clouds or grows mould. No fresh red shiso nearby? Japanese and Korean shops sometimes sell it in summer, and it grows easily from seed. Chef's tip: freeze some as ice cubes to drop into sparkling water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kadha (spiced herbal decoction)

When the fog settles over Delhi, Lucknow and the plains of Uttar Pradesh in December, or whenever the monsoon brings coughs round the house, someone puts a pan of kadha on the stove. Tulsi leaves, ginger, black pepper, cinnamon, cloves and sometimes a little ajwain are boiled hard until the water reduces by half, then sweetened with jaggery and sipped in small cups, morning or night. It is not a gentle tea: it is hot, peppery, clove-numbing and earthy, with a dark amber colour and a sweet edge. It is traditionally drunk for coughs and colds; it does not replace medical care, and anyone who is pregnant, on medication or giving it to small children should keep it mild and check with a doctor. The common mistake is simmering it gently like tea: kadha needs a steady boil so the spices give up their strength and the liquid reduces. It is ready when the volume has halved and the brew is deep amber and pungent. Chef's tip: crush the pepper and cloves just before they go in; whole spices hardly flavour the water in this short time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MursikSmoky fermented milk

When Kenyan marathon runners land back in Eldoret, relatives greet them with a gourd of mursik, the soured milk of Kalenjin homesteads across the Rift Valley highlands. Traditionally, milk sits for several days in a sotet, a long calabash whose inside has been scraped with a smouldering stick of senetwet (the tree often called the cromwell tree) so a lining of fine charcoal coats it; that charcoal gives mursik its smoky taste, grey flecks and long keeping. At home we skip raw milk and a wild ferment: pasteurised milk is soured with a live cultured buttermilk, and a jar smoked inside with untreated hardwood, or a pinch of food-grade activated charcoal, brings the flavour. Thick, sharp and smoky, it is drunk with ugali, sweet potatoes or after a long run, and the usual mistake is fermenting it somewhere too hot, where it splits into whey and tastes yeasty. Chef's tip: shake the jar hard before pouring, as herders shake the gourd, to make it smooth and drinkable.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Nước sấu (sấu fruit drink)

When Hanoi's tamarind-like sấu trees drop their small green fruit in May and June, street vendors start selling glasses of nước sấu: a few candied fruits, a ladle of ginger syrup, cold water and crushed ice. Families make big jars to last until the season ends in August. It is sipped with a spoon so you can bite into the crunchy-soft fruit at the bottom. It tastes sour and sweet at once, with a clean ginger warmth and a flavour a little like green mango and plum. Traditional cooks soak the peeled fruit in limewater to keep it crisp; a salt soak works well at home. The common mistake is skipping the blanch and slow syrup: raw fruit stays acrid and the syrup clouds. Blanch the fruit briefly, then cook it gently in sugar until it turns translucent yellow-green and the syrup is clear and glossy. Store it in a sterilised jar in the fridge for up to 2 months with a clean spoon; discard if it fizzes, smells fermented or shows mould. Fresh sấu is rare abroad; look for frozen sấu in Vietnamese shops, or use firm green ambarella. Chef's tip: slash each fruit a few times so the syrup soaks all the way in.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Surti cold cocoaThick chilled cocoa milk

Long after dinner, the lanes around Surat's Chowk Bazaar and Athwa Lines fill with families queueing for cold cocoa, a thick, almost milkshake-like chocolate milk poured from big steel cans into tall glasses. The secret is cooking cocoa and a spoon of cornflour into rich milk first, then chilling it for hours so it thickens and the cocoa flavour deepens, before whisking it frothy to order. The common mistake is stirring cocoa powder straight into cold milk, which leaves bitter, dusty lumps floating on top. Chef's tip: make it the night before and whisk with a hand blender for 30 seconds just before pouring for the classic foamy head.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MocochinchiDried peach and cinnamon drink

Walk through any Bolivian plaza on a warm afternoon and someone will be selling mocochinchi from a big glass jar: a cool, amber drink of sun-dried peaches simmered with cinnamon and cloves, served with a whole wrinkled peach at the bottom of the glass to eat at the end. It is the classic drink with lunch from Cochabamba to Tarija. People often skip the overnight soak, and then the peaches stay leathery and the drink tastes thin. Chef's tip: rub the soaked peaches between your hands under water to clean off dust and loosen the skins, which also releases more flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Variyali sharbat (fennel cooler)

On May afternoons in Ahmedabad and Surat, when the loo wind blows and nobody wants a hot drink, Gujarati homes keep a bottle of variyali sharbat concentrate in the fridge. Fennel seeds are soaked, ground with rock sugar, strained and mixed with lemon and a little black pepper, then diluted with iced water for guests, after lunch, or to break a fast, since nothing in it is off-limits on upvas days if you use rock salt. It is pale green and cloudy, with a sweet aniseed taste, a sharp lemon finish and a faint peppery tingle. The common mistake is grinding dry fennel straight away: it stays gritty and the flavour is harsh. Soak the seeds for at least two hours so they swell and grind into a smooth paste. It is ready when the strained concentrate is silky, smells clearly of fennel and tastes very sweet, as it will be diluted three or four times. The concentrate keeps 5 days in the fridge in a clean bottle. Chef's tip: add a few mint leaves or a pinch of cardamom when grinding for a more rounded cooler.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Juhua cha (chrysanthemum tea)

The small white hangbaiju flowers grown around Tongxiang, near Hangzhou, are picked in November, steamed and dried, and they end up in teapots all over China. Families brew them after a rich dinner, through the dry autumn, and iced in summer; dim sum houses in the south offer them as a caffeine-free choice, often mixed with pu-erh. The tea is pale gold, lightly floral with a faint bitterness like chamomile, softened by a little rock sugar and a few goji berries that turn plump and red in the pot. The common mistake is pouring boiling water straight onto the flowers and leaving them for twenty minutes; the tea turns brownish and bitter. Water just off the boil, around 90 °C, and a short steep keep it clear and sweet. It is ready when the flowers have opened like little daisies, the colour is light amber and the smell is honey-like. You can top up the pot two or three times. If you are allergic to ragweed, daisies or marigolds, try a small cup first or skip it, as chrysanthemum belongs to the same family. Chef's tip: for iced juhua cha, brew it double strength and pour it straight over a glass full of ice so it does not taste watery.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè shakeratoShaken iced espresso

When July heat settles over Italian piazzas, bar regulars from Rome to Bologna switch their morning or after-lunch espresso for a shakerato. The barista pulls a fresh shot, tips it into a cocktail shaker with ice and sugar, shakes hard for fifteen seconds and strains it into a chilled martini or wine glass, where it settles into a dark body under a thick, beige, mousse-like crema. It tastes intense and bittersweet, colder and smoother than iced coffee, with a texture almost like a light cream. The common mistake is using too little ice or shaking half-heartedly: the coffee stays warm and the foam collapses within seconds. Fill the shaker at least half full with ice and shake until the metal is too cold to hold comfortably. It is ready when you hear the ice rattle softly and the shaker frosts over, and the pour has a thick foam on top. One shaker holds one double espresso, so it is fairly strong in caffeine. Chef's tip: dissolve the sugar in the hot espresso before adding ice; granulated sugar barely melts once the coffee is cold.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Koko SamoaHot cocoa drink

Koko Samoa is the morning drink of Samoa, made from the island's own cocoa beans, roasted over a fire, pounded into a dark paste and dried into blocks sold at Apia's Fugalei market. Dissolved in hot water and sweetened, it is earthy, slightly bitter and rich, with a little oil floating on top, and is drunk with panikeke or buttered bread. If you can't find koko Samoa, use 100% cocoa chocolate. A common mistake is expecting it to be like milky hot chocolate; it is darker and thinner. Chef's tip: simmer it for a few minutes rather than just stirring it in, which brings out the roasted flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MoshOat and milk drink

In Guatemalan homes, mosh is what a mother hands a child on a chilly highland morning in Quetzaltenango or Huehuetenango: rolled oats cooked long and thin with water, milk, cinnamon and sugar, so it's drunk from a mug rather than eaten with a spoon. The common mistake is making it too thick like porridge; it should pour easily, so keep adding hot milk or water as the oats swell. Chef's tip: whisk it hard for a minute at the end; it breaks up the oats and makes the drink smooth and frothy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chai nabat (saffron rock candy tea)

Pilgrims leaving Mashhad carry home boxes of saffron nabat, crystals of rock candy grown on a string and tinted gold with Khorasani saffron. Across Iran a glass of chai nabat is what you are handed when you feel unwell, after a shock, after an exam, or late at night when the evening meal sits heavy; it is traditionally drunk to settle the stomach and warm you up. The tea is brewed strong in a teapot that sits on top of the kettle, then poured clear and amber into small glasses, and the nabat stick is stirred until it softens the tea with a gentle, honeyed sweetness and a faint saffron aroma. Black tea has a moderate amount of caffeine, so give children a weaker glass. A common mistake is boiling the leaves or letting them steep on direct heat, which turns the tea bitter and murky; Persian tea is "dam" — brewed gently on steam. It is ready when the leaves have sunk, the tea is clear and reddish-amber and it smells of bergamot or cardamom. Chef's tip: hold the glass up to the light; if you can't see through it, top it up with hot water, as Iranians do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kawa zbożowaRoasted grain coffee

In Polish kindergartens, school canteens and grandmothers' kitchens, kawa zbożowa is the breakfast "coffee" everyone can drink: a blend of roasted rye, barley, chicory and sometimes sugar beet that tastes toasty and malty with no caffeine at all. It is usually drunk milky and a little sweet alongside bread and butter. The common mistake is brewing ground grain coffee like espresso: it needs a few minutes of simmering to give up its flavour, or it tastes like weak tea. Chef's tip: let the pot stand off the heat for 2 minutes after simmering so the grounds sink, then pour gently and you won't need a filter at all.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Atol de plátanoWarm plantain and milk drink

In Guatemalan markets, steaming pots of atol are sold from early morning: thick, sweet, drinkable porridges made from corn, rice, oats or, in this case, very ripe plantain blended with milk and cinnamon. Atol de plátano is creamy and fruity, a filling breakfast in a mug. The common mistake is boiling it hard after the milk goes in, which catches and burns on the bottom; keep it at a gentle bubble and stir. Chef's tip: simmer the plantain with the cinnamon in water first, then blend; this cooks the starch fully and gives a silky drink without any raw-banana taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mursalski chaiIronwort tea

High in the Rhodope mountains, shepherds and villagers start the day with a pot of mursalski chai, brewed from the dried flowering stems of Sideritis scardica, the Balkan ironwort that grows on the limestone slopes around Mursalitsa peak. It tastes gently floral, lemony and a little like chamomile and mint, and is traditionally sweetened with honey or drunk plain. The common mistake is steeping it for just a couple of minutes like black tea; the woody stems need a short simmer to give their full flavour and golden colour. Chef's tip: break the stems into 5 cm pieces so they fit the pot and release more flavour, and use a slice of lemon to brighten the colour. Vegans can sweeten it with sugar instead of honey.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MaślankaChilled buttermilk

Maślanka, the tangy liquid left after churning butter, is sold in cartons all over Poland and drunk ice-cold with breakfast, with boiled new potatoes in summer, or blended with fruit for children. On its own it is thin, sour and refreshing; with strawberries and a spoon of sugar it becomes a light pink breakfast smoothie. The mistake is buying "buttermilk" that is really thickened yoghurt drink with added flavourings; look for plain cultured buttermilk with nothing else on the label. Chef's tip: chill the glasses as well as the buttermilk, and blend for no more than 20 seconds so it stays light and doesn't separate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Misutgaru drinkRoasted multigrain shake

Misutgaru is a fine beige powder of roasted grains and beans, usually barley, brown rice, glutinous rice, black beans and sesame, and Korean mums have shaken it into cold milk for rushed breakfasts for generations. It tastes like toasted cereal and a little like peanut butter, and it fills you up until lunch. The mistake is stirring the powder straight into a full glass, which leaves dry lumps floating on top; shake it in a jar or whisk it into a little liquid first. Honey is not suitable for babies under one. Chef's tip: add a few ice cubes to the jar before shaking, which breaks up any lumps and froths the drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Beijing douzhiFermented mung bean drink

Douzhi is the most famous acquired taste in Beijing: a hot, grey-green, sour drink made from the liquid left when mung beans are ground for starch, then fermented. Old Beijingers sip it at breakfast with crisp jiaoquan rings and shredded salted mustard pickles, and visitors either love it or never try it twice. At home you make a small batch by blending mung beans, settling out the starch and fermenting the cloudy water for a day. The mistake is letting it boil hard: it separates into watery and thick layers, so keep it at a gentle bubble. It must smell cleanly sour like yogurt; throw it away if it smells rotten, has mould, or turns pink or slimy. Chef's tip: stir it continuously as it heats and add a splash of the thinner liquid at the end, which keeps the classic smooth, slightly thick texture.

1440 minChineseDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè lecceseEspresso with almond milk over ice

In Lecce and the towns of Salento, summer mornings start at the bar with a caffè in ghiaccio, and the local version, a fairly recent invention now poured everywhere from Otranto to Gallipoli, adds a pour of latte di mandorla: the sweet almond-milk syrup Puglian bakers have made for generations from local almonds. A short glass is filled with ice, the almond syrup goes in, and a hot espresso is poured straight over so it cracks the ice and blends into a pale, cold, nutty coffee. It is sweet without being sticky, with a marzipan aroma and a clean bitter finish. The common mistake is letting the espresso cool before pouring: it no longer melts and mixes with the dense syrup, which then sits at the bottom. Pull the shot and pour it at once, then stir. It is ready when the drink is evenly caramel-coloured and the glass feels icy. Lecce bars serve it from about May to late September, often with a pasticciotto. Espresso means a fair hit of caffeine. Chef's tip: if you can only find unsweetened almond drink, stir 1 tsp of sugar into it first, but real Puglian almond syrup gives the true taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Spremuta di arance rosseFresh blood orange juice

From December to April the orchards on the plain below Etna, around Catania, Lentini and Paternò, are heavy with Tarocco, Moro and Sanguinello blood oranges. The cold Etna nights turn their flesh red, and in Catania bars the barista squeezes them to order on a lever press, serving the spremuta beside a cornetto or a granita at breakfast. It is sweet, juicy and tart, tasting of orange with hints of raspberry and cherry, and the colour runs from streaky pink to deep garnet depending on the variety. The common mistake is squeezing the oranges hours ahead or pressing the white pith too hard: the juice turns bitter and the colour goes brown. Squeeze just before drinking, press gently and stop before you grind into the skin. It is ready when the juice is bright and frothy on top and tastes balanced, with no bitter aftertaste. Moro oranges give the darkest juice; Tarocco is sweetest. Outside Sicily, any blood orange works, or mix half ordinary oranges with half blood oranges. Chef's tip: roll each orange firmly on the counter before cutting; it softens the segments so you get more juice with less pressing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tsestalulu (sea-buckthorn juice)

Sea buckthorn grows wild along the river beds of Ladakh, and in Leh the bright orange berries are pressed into tsestalulu, a sharp, tropical-tasting juice sold in summer cafés and made at home after the autumn harvest. It is drunk chilled, sweetened with sugar or honey and thinned with cold water. The berries are very sour and slightly oily, so the juice is always diluted. The common mistake is boiling the pulp, which dulls both the colour and the fresh taste; just blend and strain. Chef's tip: frozen sea-buckthorn berries or plain unsweetened purée from health shops work very well; strain twice through a fine sieve for a silky drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Diabolo mentheMint syrup and lemonade

Ask anyone who grew up in France about diabolo menthe and they will remember sitting on a café terrace after school, or on holiday in Brittany or the Vendée, with a tall glass of startling green fizz and a straw. It is simply sirop de menthe, the sweet mint syrup sold in every French supermarket, topped up with limonade, which in France means a clear, lightly sweet, lemony fizzy drink. Grenadine makes a diabolo grenadine, lemon syrup a diabolo citron. It tastes cool, minty and sweet, like a liquid mint sweet, with a sharp sparkle. The common mistake is pouring the syrup on top of the lemonade: it sinks in a dense layer and you drink plain fizz followed by pure syrup. Put the syrup in the glass first and pour the lemonade down the side so it mixes as it rises. It is ready when the glass is an even mint-green from bottom to top and still fizzing hard. Café ratio is about one part syrup to seven parts lemonade. Chef's tip: for a homemade syrup, steep a big handful of fresh mint in hot sugar syrup for 30 minutes and strain; it will be pale gold-green rather than emerald, and tastes fresher.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SalabatHot ginger tea

Salabat is the Filipino early-morning cup, simmered in homes from Luzon to Mindanao when the weather turns cool or a sore throat threatens, and drunk with bibingka and puto bumbong outside churches during the Christmas dawn masses. It is just ginger, water and dark sugar, but the ginger has to be bashed to release its heat. The mistake is slicing the ginger thinly and boiling briefly; you get a pale, weak tea. Crush it and simmer it properly. Chef's tip: leave the skin on young ginger, scrub it well and smash it with the flat of a cleaver, which gives a stronger, rounder heat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Magic coffee

The magic is a Melbourne café insider's order, born in the city's Fitzroy and Collingwood coffee bars: a double ristretto (the short, intense first part of the espresso shot) topped with silky steamed milk in a 160 ml cup. It is stronger and sweeter-tasting than a flat white because there's less milk and only the richest part of the shot. A common mistake is scalding the milk; above about 65 °C it loses its natural sweetness. Chef's tip: stop the shot early, at about 30 ml for a double, to get that syrupy ristretto.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Oksusu-chaRoasted corn tea

Oksusu-cha is the tea Korean households boil by the kettleful and keep in the fridge in old glass bottles, drunk instead of water with meals from Seoul apartments to Gangwon farmhouses, chilled in summer and hot in winter. Dried corn kernels are roasted until dark golden, then simmered to make a pale amber tea that tastes gently sweet and toasty, though nothing is added at all. About 0.0 g salt per glass. The usual mistake is boiling the kernels too long, which makes the tea cloudy and starchy; 15 minutes is plenty. Ready-roasted corn kernels are sold in Korean shops; if roasting your own, use dried corn, not fresh or tinned. Chef's tip: mix in a spoon of roasted barley for the classic boricha blend, rounder and more nutty, though no longer gluten free.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ssanghwa-cha (herbal tonic tea)

Ssanghwa-cha is the strongest thing on the menu of an old Korean dabang. From the 1960s these smoky tea rooms served it in thick ceramic cups, dark as coffee, with pine nuts, slivered jujube and walnut floating on top; in winter some still slide a raw egg yolk in, which this recipe leaves out. The brew comes from Korean herbal tradition, where ssanghwa-tang is drunk to warm up and recover from tiredness after hard work or a cold. It tastes earthy and bitter at first, then sweet from licorice and jujube, with warmth from cinnamon and ginger and a celery-like perfume from angelica. Herbal shops sell the roots in pre-measured packs. The common mistake is boiling it hard: the liquid reduces too fast and turns harsh. Keep a gentle simmer with the lid ajar for two hours. It is ready when it is very dark brown, reduced to about a third and smells of cinnamon and roots. Because it contains licorice and angelica, skip it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, have high blood pressure, or take blood thinners or other medicines unless your doctor agrees. Chef's tip: a second, lighter brew from the same roots is good with honey.

135 minKoreanDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

PinoleToasted corn drink

In the canyons of the Sierra Tarahumara in Chihuahua, Rarámuri runners set off at dawn carrying a pouch of pinole, corn kernels toasted on a clay comal and ground fine, to stir into cold water along the trail. Across northern Mexico it is still a breakfast drink, sweetened with piloncillo and cinnamon and stirred into water or warm milk. This version toasts coarse cornmeal at home for the same nutty, popcorn-like flavour. The common mistake is toasting over a high heat: the outside burns and turns bitter before the inside goes golden. Chef's tip: toast a big batch and keep it in a jar, so a morning cup is just two spoonfuls stirred into water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ipoh white coffee

Ipoh's old town kopitiams, with their marble tables and morning crowds queueing for kai si hor fun and egg tarts, gave Malaysia its 'white coffee'. The name comes not from milk but from the roast: beans are roasted with palm-oil margarine, lighter than the dark, sugar-roasted kopi of the rest of the country, then brewed and served with condensed milk. It is smoother and less bitter than ordinary kopi, nutty and buttery, pale caramel in the cup, drunk hot at breakfast or iced in the afternoon heat. At home, buy ground Ipoh-style white coffee from an Asian grocer; you cannot easily reproduce the margarine roast in a kitchen. The common mistake is brewing it like espresso: forced extraction makes it bitter and kills the soft, toasty flavour. Steep it in a cloth sock or a coffee filter with water just off the boil. It is ready when the brew is reddish-brown and clear, not inky. This is a strong coffee with real caffeine, not for children. Chef's tip: warm the cups with hot water first; white coffee cools fast and loses its aroma.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PinolilloToasted corn and cacao drink

Nicaraguans call themselves pinoleros after this drink, sold cold from plastic jugs at markets in Masaya and León and stirred up at home in gourd cups called jícaras. Toasted ground corn, cacao and a little cinnamon and clove are whisked into water or milk, giving a nutty, gently chocolatey drink with a soft, grainy body that settles if you leave it. Made with water or a plant milk it is vegan. Burning the corn while toasting is the mistake to avoid: it only needs to turn biscuit-coloured, and anything darker tastes bitter. Chef's tip: shake the powder and liquid in a lidded jar with ice instead of stirring, and there will be no lumps.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Batido de trigoPuffed wheat shake

Havana cafeterías and Miami ventanitas blend this for breakfast on the run: puffed wheat, cold milk, sugar and ice whizzed into a thick, frothy shake that tastes like a malted milk with toasted cereal. It is one of the most loved Cuban batidos, and quick to make at home. The common mistake is using sweetened, honey-coated cereal, which makes it cloying; plain puffed wheat lets the toasty grain flavour come through. Chef's tip: blend the puffed wheat with half the milk first until completely smooth, then add the ice, so you don't get soggy flecks of cereal.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MunkoyoFermented maize drink

Munkoyo is the drink of Zambian village afternoons and long bus rides, sold in reused bottles at roadside stands from Kabwe to Mansa: a thin maize porridge sweetened and loosened by the pounded roots of the munkoyo shrub, then left to ferment lightly for about a day. It tastes gently sweet and sour, a little like a thin, cool maize yoghurt drink, and is drunk by everyone, children included, because it is not meant to be alcoholic. Munkoyo root is hard to find outside Zambia, so this recipe uses ground sorghum malt (sold as sorghum malt flour), which carries the same kind of starch-thinning enzymes; barley diastatic malt powder also works but makes it no longer gluten free. The big mistake is adding the root or malt to boiling-hot porridge, which kills the enzymes so it never thins. Chef's tip: drink it within two days and keep it chilled after fermenting, because if it ferments for longer it keeps souring and can start to develop traces of alcohol.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Limau asam boi (lime with sour plum)

Order 'limau ais asam boi' at a kopitiam in Penang or a hawker centre in Kuala Lumpur at the hottest part of the afternoon and it arrives in a tall, sweating glass: freshly squeezed calamansi or small green limes, a little syrup, ice and one wrinkled, salted dried plum. The plum slowly leaches salt and fruity sourness into the drink, so every sip changes, starting bright and sweet and ending salty and tangy; you squash the plum with your straw halfway through for a stronger hit. It goes with char kway teow, nasi lemak or anything fried. The usual mistake is using bottled lime juice, which tastes flat and bitter against the plum. Squeeze fresh limes, and add the syrup gradually because asam boi is already salty-sweet. It is ready when the glass is frosted and the plum has started to plump up. Asam boi is sold in jars in Chinese and Southeast Asian groceries; Japanese umeboshi is saltier but works if you halve the amount. Chef's tip: make the lime-syrup base ahead and keep it cold, then pour over fresh ice only when you serve.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Laphet yayBurmese milk tea

Burmese teashops, from the busy corners of Yangon to small-town Shan State, run on laphet yay: very strong black tea poured over condensed and evaporated milk, and customers order it by sweetness, from "pan pyar" (less sweet) to "cho seint" (extra sweet and creamy). It comes with samusa, palata or a bowl of mohinga. The mistake is weak tea: it must be brewed long and dark so it stands up to all that milk. Chef's tip: pour the finished tea from one jug to another from a height a few times; it cools slightly and gets the frothy top teashops are proud of.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SobachaRoasted buckwheat tea

Sobacha is roasted buckwheat tea, drunk all over Japan and especially in the soba country of Nagano and Hokkaido, where it is poured free in noodle shops and kept in jugs in the fridge through summer. Toasted buckwheat groats are steeped in hot water to make a golden, caffeine-free tea with a nutty, almost popcorn aroma, and the softened groats can be eaten too, stirred into rice or salads. Nothing is added: no salt, no sugar, so about 0.0 g salt per cup. The usual mistake is burning the groats when roasting your own; keep the heat at medium and keep the pan moving. Use Tartary buckwheat (dattan soba) for a deeper yellow tea. Anyone with a buckwheat allergy should avoid it, as reactions can be serious. Chef's tip: steep a second time with slightly hotter water; the second cup is often the sweetest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 72 of 485 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 8 of 21

More collections