Feijoa and Lime Sangria
 Serves 6-8

Ingredients: 

1 bottle (750ml) New Zealand white wine

1 cup Mac's Feijoa and Pear Sparkling Fruit Juice (or similar)

3.5 oz Light Rum (or gin or vodka)

1/2 cup Coconut Lime Simple Syrup* (recipe below)

2 feijoa, sliced

1 small lime, sliced

1 small lemon, sliced

Method:
  Slightly muddle cut fruit in the bottom of a glass pitcher. Combine all other ingredients in the pitcher and let chill one hour before serving. Serve over ice if desired.





Coconut Lime Simple Syrup
 Makes 1 cup

Ingredients:

1 cup white sugar

1/2 cup coconut water

Zest of 1 lime

1/2 cup fresh lime juice 

Method:
  Set the sugar and coconut water over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sugar has dissolved (about 3-4 minutes). Remove from heat and stir in lime zest and lime juice. Transfer to jar or other container and let chill for one hour. **You may wish to sieve the zest out before combining with sangria ingredients.

Introducing.... FEIJOA

These little green gems are autumn's only blessing in New Zealand. The upside-down part of the world doesn't celebrate the transition from summer to autumn with any of the same vigor as Americans, who drink pumpkin spice lattes while taking photos of their boot-clad feet in piles of leaves. This is April, so there's no Halloween or Thanksgiving, and no one even knows how to carve a pumpkin. Further, our Kiwi summers are mild, and far too short if you ask me, so there's no delight in the "relief" from summer heat that cooler autumn temperatures usually bring for Americans. No, in New Zealand, the end of summer is mourned. The cooling temperatures signal the end of long, warm nights around the barbecue, and active weekends at the beach, and quickly usher in 8 horrid months of freezing rain, bone-chilling wind, and depressing grey skies, in what I like to view as the true essence of the Maori title for New Zealand: Aotearoa, the "Long White Cloud." 

All this to say, woo hoo for feijoa and the small relief they bring from the sense of impending doom. Mix them with alcohol and you definitely have something to contend with those overpriced Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

Feijoa trees are native to South America and were introduced to New Zealand in the 1920s where ideal growing conditions have made them a wild success here. Outside of Brazil or NZ, you might have been lucky enough to locate a feijoa or two at a farmer's market in hippy places like Portland, or source an imported variety in places like Los Angeles or New York City, where no health food is denied to you. More than likely, if you've found this page from a Pinterest or google search, you are a Kiwi. And you, like me, adore all things feijoa.

If you're not Kiwi or Brazilian and are wondering what feijoa tastes like, GOOD FREAKING LUCK finding someone to describe it to you. As a test, I often ask Kiwis to tell me what they think feijoa tastes like and this is the typical response: "feijoa? Yeah, it tastes like... feijoa, eh?" Brilliant. The truth is, it's a totally unique flavor not quite like anything you've tasted before. The internets tells me it's called the "Pineapple Guava" elsewhere, but this is false. It does not taste like pineapple or guava or any combination therein. Let me see if I can describe it for you: feijoa tastes a little bit sour, a little bit sweet; a little bit earthy, like something long-forgotten from childhoods spent running free and careless, tasting foraged acorns and wild fruit. Feijoa's sweet pulpy nucleus is in the shape of a groovy X and surrounded by a harder, slightly sharp-tasting fruit siding. If you're a real fanatic, like my boyfriend, you pop the fruit in your mouth whole, eating the green skin and all. But most people cut the fruit in half and dig out the center with a wee spoon. Other people slice it up and pour booze over it. Your choice.

This Feijoa and Lime Sangria recipe is amazing. And I'm not just saying that because I invented it. The recipe has a lot going for it which makes it unlike any other sangria you've tried: the unique flavor of feijoa is complimented by the sweetened citrus simple syrup and mixed with a glorious New Zealand white wine. I topped mine with Mac's feijoa and pear fruit drink, which is a tart and bubbly delight. You can use whatever juice/mixer suits your tastes.

When you get right down to it, this sangria is crisp and a little bit sweet, but mostly it's holding on to the last few days of summer warmth, while honoring the changes that autumn brings. Feijoa is our savior, bearing the weight of our resignation and quiet hopes for a mild winter ahead. We love you, feijoa.

And yes, that is a box that says "Florida" on it. It's usually my magazine rack, but today it brought the warmth of home to the photo shoot. Small comforts for expat hearts.

ELDERFLOWER AND CITRUS SANGRIA

Elderflower and Citrus Sangria
   Serves 6-8

Ingredients: 

• 1 bottle (750ml) dry white wine
• 2 bottles (12 oz) Crabbie’s ginger beer*
• 3.5 oz Saint Germain
• 1 orange, sliced
• 1 lemon, sliced
• 1 lime, sliced

Intructions:

  Combine all ingredients in a pitcher and let chill one hour before serving. Serve over ice if desired.


*You can, of course, use a different brand of ginger beer if you prefer. Just like you can use tomato ketchup instead of tomato sauce on your spaghetti if you prefer. Yes, Crabbie’s is that much better than regular ginger beer. They’ve only recently started selling it in the US, but if you find a store near you that sells it, buy every single pack they have, because once you try it you won’t be able to get enough.

This is the first time I’ve tried Saint Germain and it is most certainly as delicious as the whole internet world makes it out to be. After googling through various white wine sangria recipes, I stumbled across one that used Saint Germain. Having no idea what that was, it was back to google, where I found this article. I discovered that Saint Germain is a liqueur made from elderflowers. I also discovered that the people who pick these elderflowers from the French hillside where they grow transport them back to the factory on bicycles. Bicycles. That’s some super whimsical dedication right there (not to mention inefficient. But they’re French so whimsical but inefficient dedication is kind of their specialty). On top of Saint Germain being delicious, the bottle is insanely gorgeous and makes the perfect addition to my imaginary pinterest-worthy bar cart where I keep my extensive and equally imaginary alcohol collection.

Between the sweet and unusual elderflower liqueur, the spicy ginger beer, and the bright citrus, this drink has the perfect combination of light and refreshing flavors that balance each other wonderfully. It was certainly the perfect drink for this Tuesday Boozeday which could not have come sooner. Except it could have, which is why I made this drink on Monday. I came back up from Florida last Monday, and it’s been one of those weeks where everything takes about 3x longer than you think and every time you do accomplish a task three more sprout up in its place.

When I picked the kids I nanny for up from tutoring (which they attend on Mondays and Thursdays), I asked their tutor why she hadn’t given them enough homework to last through the weekend. “I gave you two packets - one for Tuesday and one for Wednesday." Oh, right, the weekend isn’t for another 4 days. The crushing and disorienting realization made me want to simultaneously break down crying and laugh hysterically. I decided to make this post a day early, because if I can’t make Friday happen on Monday, at least I can make it Tuesday Boozeday whenever I want.