I’m perpetually haunted by the ghost of cranberries Christmas past. One of the rare few fresh ingredients that remains firmly out of season and unavailable most of the year, the impulse to stock up is irresistible. Surely, there will come a time in mid-July when I absolutely NEED whole cranberries, right? It’s only reasonable to toss an extra two or three bags in the freezer while you can.
Then, the holidays roll around again and I still have those two or three bags from last year exactly where I left them.
It’s time to finally end the cycle. The solution, as with many problems, involves a more spirited approach.
What Is a Cordial?
Cranberry cordial is the easiest and most gratifying way to make festive fruit liqueur that the whole family (ages 21 and up, please) can enjoy. In the US, “cordial” and “liqueur” are often used interchangeably, generally referring to sweetened spirits flavored with fruits, herbs, spices, or other ingredients. Across the pond, however, ordering a cordial may get you a non-alcoholic fruit syrup instead, so choose your words carefully.
For this seasonal tipple, whole cranberries are steeped in alcohol with sugar and spices, slowly surrendering their color and tartness to make a more balanced little aperitif. Marvelously low-effort, affordable, and requires almost no intervention beyond 10 minutes of active cook time, hoarding excess cranberries will never be a problem again.
Low Effort, High Spirits
After a few weeks, you’re left with a jewel-toned, intensely cranberry-flavored cordial that’s equally at home mixed into cocktails, topped off with sparkling water, or sipped straight when the weather calls for something warming. Better still, the cranberries themselves aren’t finished yet. Plump, boozy, and thoroughly infused, they have one more job to do.
Saucy Second Act
Simply toss those spent cranberries back into a sauce pan and simmer them into a thoroughly boozy cranberry sauce, the likes of which are guaranteed to make a stuffy Thanksgiving gathering considerably more interesting. Waste not, want not, and never let perfectly good liquor-soaked fruit go unceremoniously into the compost.
It seems like old habits die hard; now I have a new reason to stock the freezer before cranberries vanish from stores again.
Continue reading “Cordially Yours”

