There comes a time once you’re dwelling in New York that you just swear you’re going to maneuver. Possibly you waited somewhat too lengthy on a muggy subway after somebody yelled at you on the road. Or possibly, after lugging your groceries to the highest of your fifth flooring walk-up, you realized you forgot to purchase the one ingredient you truly wanted to purchase. You’ll be able to normally shake the sensation, however when you’re Rebekah Peppler, you pack your luggage and start to separate your time between New York and Paris—till finally selecting the expat life. “I had this form of large, inescapable feeling {that a} change was coming into my life and it wouldn’t occur if I stayed the place I used to be,” the author remembers. “I used to be working as a contract meals stylist on the time however I actually needed to be writing extra. I used to be single. I used to be cell. It felt like an excellent time to make an enormous leap of religion.” Within the years since, Peppler’s made Paris her house—all whereas writing three cookbooks. Her newest, Le Sud: Recipes from Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur, focuses on the south of France, a pure extension of her many journeys to the area. Inside, you’ll discover every part from a strawberry gâteau to the pasta she craves “each time I’m close to the ocean.” Certainly one of our favorites although is a five-ingredient recipe for The Marseillan. It’s a pastis-based drink that’s each straightforward and refreshing, the best way summer time ought to be. As Peppler says…
“[The liqueur] pastis has a protracted historical past within the south of France. Its identify comes from the Provençal pastisson, or ‘combination’—and to not go too too deeply into the backstory of the drink, however in a short time… When absinthe manufacturing was banned in 1915, cafés began providing different anise-based liqueurs as a alternative. In 1932, Paul Ricard began advertising his Marseille-produced model as pastis. At present, stroll by any café or bar in Marseille at just about any time of day within the summertime, and somebody is ingesting pastis. It’s very a lot woven into life and pastis lends itself to lengthy, sluggish, sizzling afternoons. Personally, each time I’m going to Marseille, I don’t really feel that I’ve actually arrived till I’m sitting underneath a spot of shade, sipping from a tall, cloudy, flippantly perspiring glass.
The best way you’ll usually see pastis served in Marseille and throughout France is a pour of the liqueur in a tall glass and set on the desk alongside a pitcher (usually, and ideally, ceramic) stuffed with chilled water. Drinkers can then add as a lot or as little water as they like; 1:5 pastis to water is pretty customary. Typically a bucket of ice is served on the aspect as properly and there are very robust opinions on whether or not ice ought to be added or not.
I really like ingesting pastis this fashion—it’s straightforward and refreshing and transportive. However I’ve additionally discovered that, each in and outdoors my circle of ingesting buddies, because of its stronger, anise-forward profile, pastis is both very liked or very averted. The Marseillan is my manner of creating a pastis-laced drink that appeals to all kinds of drinkers—not simply those that are already into pastis. The usage of the mint-lime syrup nods to and was impressed by a variation of the normal drink referred to as Le Perroquet, wherein a splash of vivid inexperienced crème de menthe is added to the drink.
You’ll be able to take pleasure in it nonetheless you want, however I extremely advocate The Marseillan on a very sizzling afternoon. Hunt down a spot of shade, invite a buddy, make a spherical of drinks, possibly play a card recreation and lean into the type of lengthy, winding dialog that this form of afternoon is particularly good at eliciting.”
The Marseillan
Serves 1
1½ ounces gin
¾ ounce recent lime juice
¾ ounce Mint-Lime Syrup (recipe follows)
½ ounce pastis
2 ounces chilled nonetheless mineral water
In a cocktail shaker, add the gin, lime juice, mint-lime syrup, and pastis. Pressure into an ice-filled lowball glass and prime with the chilled water.
Word on pastis: Whereas Pernod (notes of star anise and fennel) and Ricard (licorice-forward) stay the best-known bottles available on the market, I want to hunt out natural, nuanced, less-assertive Henri Bardouin, made an hour’s drive north of Marseille in Forcalquier, or Argalà, which is made within the Italian village of Roccavione. If you happen to’re in search of a bottle to take house from a vacation in le sud, search for Pastis Millésimé Château des Creissauds or Pastis de la Plaine.
Mint-Lime Syrup
Makes 1¼ cups
1 massive bunch recent mint
2 limes, zested
1¼ cups [250 g] granulated sugar
1 teaspoon flaky salt
Mix the recent mint, lime zest, sugar, and salt in a small pot and muddle every part collectively. Cowl and put aside at room temperature for a minimum of 1 hour and as much as 24 hours.
Add 1 cup of water to the pot and set over medium warmth. Convey to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar, then take away from the warmth. Juice the zested limes and stir within the juice. Put aside to chill fully, then pressure by means of a fine-mesh sieve, discarding the solids, and retailer, lined, within the fridge for as much as 1 month.
Excerpted from Le Sud: Recipes from Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur by Rebekah Peppler, © 2024. Printed by Chronicle Books. Courtesy of Rebekah Peppler.