Not Your Nonna’s Biscotti
Almond and anise on the nose, warm oak and subtle vanilla on the tongue, and you’re left with a sweet almond finish. This cocktail is a nod to my Nonna’s biscotti. A dessert-inspired beverage, it’s a touch on the sweet side and meant to be sipped. Pairs well with, surprise, biscotti or other cookies.
Recipe
Cocktail Ingredients (makes 1 cocktail)
1 oz Ransom Spirits Brandy
.25 oz Anise Vanilla Simple Syrup
.25 oz Orgeat
Garnish: star anise
Cocktail Instructions
In a cocktail shaker, mix brandy, syrup, orgeat, ice, and shake!
Pour into a small, cute glass (I get all my glasses at thrift stores)
Drop a star anise on top
Enjoy!
Notes & Tips
This cocktail is sweet, maybe too sweet. Try it first, then consider adding a tad more brandy or increasing the anise element (next bullet).
For a stronger anise flavor, premix the cocktail with the star anise garnish, chill in a jar in the fridge for 1-2hrs.
.25 oz = 1/2 Tbs, for small amounts like .25 oz, I usually get out my measuring spoons.
Cocktail Inspiration
When nostalgia hit me like a ton of bricks, the way it does every year around the holidays, I felt inspired to create a cocktail that would nod to my Nonna’s famous biscotti. The Italian cookies taste of anise and almond, and are made with brandy and love. I can’t say anymore–the recipe is a family secret. Shhhh!
My Nonna, my maternal grandmother, the matriarch, the legend. I don’t think she would have cared for this cocktail–I watched her pour 7up into red wine on several occasions–but I think she would have appreciated the creativity that went into it. I appreciate so many things about her and her life and am grateful to have come from a lineage bursting with badass women.
My Nonna, Luigia (Gina) Orsola Crotti, was a strong, resourceful woman. She gave birth to five children in the small mountain town of Mazzo di Valtellina, Italy in the 40s and early 50s, and four more in San Francisco in the late 50s and 60s. She learned English, raised a family, and managed to work part-time. She painted, she cooked and baked, she sewed and crocheted. She was limitless and resilient. I hope I got those genes.
Every year around the holidays, my Nonna baked her famous biscotti and shared them with family, friends, and neighbors. When my Nonna got older, my mom helped her keep up the tradition. When my Nonna died in 2009, the tradition of holiday biscotti making passed fully to my mom.
This year my mom made 20 batches (75 bags) of cookies and then shipped or hand delivered them to people up and down the coast. The tradition is a way to honor my Nonna, embrace the spirit of giving, and practice gratitude. My mom still brings a bag to the physical therapist who, many years ago, helped strengthen a shoulder injury. Helping my dad get in and out of cars, wheelchairs, and bed as he declined was emotionally and physically taxing. He was a big guy. My mom poured herself into being a full time caregiver for my dad, and the kindness of others, the joy of connection, was (and still is) enriching. She brings a bag to the dog groomer who showed extreme kindness during a difficult time. My mom’s dog died five years ago but her gratitude continues, and the dog groomer looks forward to the biscotti and the visit from my mom every year.
My Nonna was a devout Catholic, and never missed Sunday Mass. Her neighbors, Richard and Mary, drove her to church every Sunday for years and for years, Richard and Mary received holiday biscotti from my Nonna. The year my Nonna died, my mom only made a few batches but was sure to send a bag to Richard and Mary. Fourteen years later, my mom still sends a bag to Mary, who is 92 years old. Mary calls my mom every year to thank her and is so appreciative that my mom still thinks of her.
My mom slaves away in her kitchen for the entire month of November, baking batch after batch of biscotti and then ships or hand delivers them to people up and down the coast. It’s a lot of work. I talked to my mom about it recently, wondering when the tradition would pass to me or to Cora.
I asked my mom how she makes her biscotti list every year–who gets cookies, and why. She lit up and explained the extreme joy that comes from giving someone something special, that they can’t get anywhere else, that they look forward to every year. For her siblings the cookies are a happy flashback, memories of years gone by and my Nonna, in the kitchen, baking. For others, it’s a sweet reminder that they matter and that someone, my mom, appreciates them. My mom is one of the most thoughtful and caring people I’ve ever met. She is extremely generous with her time and energy. I hope I got those genes.
Next year, Cora and I will bake biscotti with my mom and learn the old Italian tricks that make the cookies so unique and so special. The biscotti recipe is a family secret. If you want it, you must qualify by descent, adoption, or marriage. A couple of my cousins are still single if you want me to put in a good word.
Just for Fun: Matching PJs
Every Christmas, my Nonna made matching PJs and hats for a whole herd of grandchildren, and all of our stuffed animals. She crocheted little booties to match. I made Otto a set of pajama pants a few Christmases ago. I can’t remember how long it took me but it was quite a while. I can’t imagine making five sets of pajamas and caps and booties and then making five more tiny sets, specifically sized for five different stuffed animals. My Nonna was incredible!
I’m the chubby little cherub.
Please check out the rest of this year’s holiday concoctions:
