3. Aperitif Hour
I’ve always loved aperitif hour – as much for the snacks as for the drink. It marks a transition, when daytime tasks end and focus switches to the shared time of the evening. In our first few months of parenting we were in too much fluidity, and often chaos, to observe it religiously. But when we did, it was often the first moment in the day we got to take a breath together, another daytime done and a pause before the unpredictability of the night and its messy sleep patterns. A little taste of the holiday life when we’ve never been more confined to our house.
In those first days the platter of snacks was a chance to bring out the charcuterie and blue and unpasteurised cheeses denied to pregnant women. Everleaf and Mother Root were the aperitifs, two great non-alcoholic options ensuring no moments of regret when getting up through the night that follows.
The need for an iron-rich diet saw the aperitif hour snack become a daily round of chicken livers on toast. As well as the iron, and keeping us from hunger for a few hours while we did bath time and attempted to get the baby asleep, the chicken livers played another role. We were blessed with a freezer full of food we’d laid in as preparation for these first weeks, and a steady supply of wonderful dishes from family and friends. For a few weeks, the daily chicken liver preparation was my only real moment of cooking. Ten minutes in the kitchen to carefully trim the livers of the membrane, cutting them into even sized pieces. A moment of calm focused for a moment just on a simple task: finely chopping a guindilla pepper, shaving strips of zest off a lemon. After a quick sear in olive oil, in goes salt, the day’s flavouring and then a final dash of something acidic. The guindilla pepper version gets a squeeze of lemon. Chilli crisp and a splash of black vinegar. Mustard and Worcestershire sauce for a devilled version. Yuzo kosho also works really well for both heat and citrus notes.
Life settles into its new rhythm and we all feel stronger and more rested. Our baby laughs in the face of routine and as we make up for lost time and get out and about more, our observance of the ritual becomes patchy. But on those times we do find a moment, our increased sleep has started to open up – a little – the appetite for something alcoholic. In our previous life we were both partial to a martini. The freezer still holds two Nick and Nora glasses ready for a moment that calls for one.
I struggle with full strength martinis with just a mist of vermouth to cut the strength of the gin, but love one that is very wet (lots of vermouth) and very dirty (lots of olive brine). So the house martini was equal parts gin, Noilly Prat and brine, either from guindilla peppers or Perello’s manzanilla picante olives. Even though that brings the strength of drink down to just under two units of alcohol and 18% before dilution, it remains a ‘stiff drink’ for someone not drinking much whose sleep comes in chunks of three to four hours, and whose bed is often shared with a newborn.
Enter the one-sip martini. It’s been a trend for a while, with Tayer and Elementary in London doing a particularly good one. I found two delightful little glasses with a capacity of about 30ml. Put a very wet and very dirty martini in that, and you’ve cut the alcohol to just over half a unit. Have that at aperitif hour and you can feel safe about sharing the bed with a baby five hours later. Such are the calculations of the new parent trying to live a delicious life.
One Sip Martini
Makes two
Source some fun glassware with a capacity of about 30ml. If you can’t find something, dig out that pack of shot glasses you were once given and probably didn’t use, though the moment may lose something aesthetically. Chill the glasses in the freezer. Chill something in which to mix the drink – if you have a mixing tin or glass use that, otherwise a wide drinking glass, or a glass or metal jug will do. Make sure you have plenty of ice.
Prepare your garnish – three olives on a cocktail stick or a piece of guindilla pepper with a slit cut into it so you can hook it onto the edge of the glass.
When it’s very cold, fill your mixing vessel with ice. Measure out 20ml of London dry gin. Nothing too outrageously flavoured. Tanqueray, Sipsmith, Gilpins, Cambridge Dry are all good. Add 20ml of Noilly Prat, and 20ml of liquid from a jar of olives or peppers. You want something with flavour and a touch of acidity. If you want heat, then picante olives or guindilla peppers are perfect.
Stir in a single direction at least 20 times. Let it rest for a moment while you get your glassware out of the freezer. Strain the drink into each glass and add your garnish.
