Soft drinks for grown-ups

This is from Serena Mackesy. Her last blog post was so popular we're just grateful that she's too busy writing best-selling books to set up the competition. When she's not scribbling in her garret, she's cooking or - latterly - making delicious non-alcoholic concoctions. Good not just for tee-totallers but pregnant ladies too. LucyKeats, Ode to a Nightingale

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!

O for a beaker full of the warm South,

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple-stained mouth…

Soft drinks for grown-ups

Sometimes the universe can deal one some deeply unjust blows. After decades, as someone who loves alcohol with a deep, romantic, Keatsian adoration, I have kept a beady eye on my consumption, in order to avoid ever being forced to give it up. So as a reward, I’ve been put on meds that come with a million-page booklet that tells me never to touch alcohol, never ever; no, really, we mean it, because your liver will explode, and then you’ll be sorry.

I’ve been booze-free for nearly three months now. Having been a designated driver for a while, I’ve been used to nights out nursing a single, blessed, glass of the love of my life, Chateauneuf du Pape – but the difference between one glass of wine and no glasses of wine is…... trust me. Food without wine is like food without salt: it’s fine, but there’s something missing, as though it’s been reduced from three to two dimensions. Marking a triumph with a nice glass of fizzy mineral water: it’s not the same, it’s really not.

And, oh Lord, the bores. Until they took it away from me, I had no idea how much the fuzzy affection that a sweet Manhattan sends coursing through your psyche can make conversations about school catchment areas tolerable.
But the worst thing of all is this: manufacturers of soft drinks are under the impression that eschewing alcohol automatically reduces you to a state of infantility in which all you want to do is dive head-first into a vat of sugar. I have yet to discover a soft drink that’s not 70% composed of the stuff. This, and the overwhelming taste of other chemicals that hits you with many soft drinks if you have remotely sensitive tastebuds, makes the abstemious life a depressing one to live.
So I’ve been searching out ways of making it all more bearable, and now spend 20 minutes a couple of times a week brewing up cordials and sticking them in little plastic drinks bottles to take with me wherever I go, like one of those mad wheatgrass people I used to avoid.
What makes an adult soft drink? And how do you make them?
First up: there are five elements that, alone or in combination, make a nice soft drink: sour, hot, bitter, caffeine, and feeling like it’s a bit of a treat. Some sort of hit in the mouth, and sense that you’re not an overlooked poor relation, goes a long way towards compensating for a lack of voddy. You won’t be able to avoid sugar altogether, but one of the things I’ve discovered – as I also discovered about all American baking years ago – is that if you halve the sugar most recipes recommend for most things, it makes no difference to the outcome other than allowing the other flavours to actually show through. Here are some of my favourites:

A drink any pub can manage Ginger beer, Rose’s lime cordial, Tabasco. Still has a lot of sugar in it, but it’s stacks better than anything else. You can vary this with Angostura bitters instead of the Tabasco, but I much prefer Tabasco, which makes the ginger really – well, gingery.

A better version to keep in the fridge (all these recipes are rough: just adjust as you like)

One big chunk of ginger root
The zest of a large lemon taken off with a veg peeler, plus its juice
Some sugar to taste (add a small amount to begin with; you can always add more later)
Tabasco sauce
A generous amount of lime juice (bottled is fine, though if you use fresh, stick the zest in the mix)
Some spice to taste, if you want (I like cloves, cinnamon)
Peel the ginger and cut into fairly thin chunks. Add the lemon zest, some sugar – maybe a tablespoon or so at this point – and a pint or so of boiling water. Bring back to the boil, and simmer for 30 mins, then take off the heat, add the lime juice, lemon juice and a generous hit of Tabasco, and adjust the sugar levels if you want. Leave to steep until it’s cool, then strain into a bottle. This mixes up really well with fizzy water (or rum, sob), but give the bottle a good shake before you pour. It’ll keep a week, comfortably, in the fridge, but chances are it won’t last that long.

Variations At the boiling stage, you can add all sorts of lovely sour fruits. The best I’ve tried so far are rhubarb and gooseberries, but I think redcurrants, raspberries, blackcurrants, blackberries would all be good. I know it’s all starting to sound a bit allotment, now, but try them and see if I’m right.

Home-made bitter lemon The shop stuff all seems to have some tooth-singing chemical in it, and something cloying in the aftertaste. But this, while very bitter, somehow just manages to be refreshing, and grown-up.
Two lemons
Sugar to taste (the recipe I originally tried said 1/4lb, but this seems excessive to me)
A couple of cloves (optional, but it’s nice)
Roughly chop up the whole lemons and put in a pan with a couple of cloves and a pint of water. Bring to boil, then simmer for 10-15 mins, til the fruit is soft. Take off heat, add sugar to taste, then leave to steep, and strain when cold. Again, really good with fizzy water (or gin, sigh…).
Mint CordialReally good for zooshing up fruit juices; particularly good with orange, or pineapple, or both. Or Cointreau, boo hoo…
1 bunch fresh mint leaves
Juice of 2 lemons
Sugar to taste (the recipe I originally found astonishingly recommends 1lb to a pint of water. I’d probably go for a quarter of that, initially).
Give the mint leaves a good bash in a pestle and mortar ‘til they’re pulpy, then stir in the lemon juice and leave to stand for an hour. Make a syrup by boiling sugar and water together, then pour it, still boiling, over the leaves and lemon. Taste for sweetness, steep ‘til cold, then strain.

A good hearty Virgin MaryThis will never be as good as a proper Bloody – less because of the voddy than because nothing brings out the flavour of tomato juice like a generous glug of either sherry or marsala. But it’s still a good drink. Quite salty, though. But tomato juice is the only fruit juice that seems to come without added sugar, so is delightfully low-calorie.
1 carton tomato juice, chilled
Lime juice
Lemon juice
Celery salt - pinch
Black pepper
Cinnamon - to taste
Garlic salt/dried garlic powder - pinch
A good, strong chilli oil (best of all – the sort that has dried shrimp in it).
Mix all the ingredients, except tomato juice, vigorously in the bottom of a large jug with a fork. Add the juice, stir together, keep in fridge for the 20 minutes or so it will take to consume the lot.

Café con HielloThank, you, thank you, the Spanish, for rescuing us from cola as the only source of caffeine on a hot day. Coffee becomes a creature of exquisite subtlety and fragrance, consumed this way.
1 double espresso
Sugar to taste
A large glass of ice
Take your espresso, and sweeten it the way you like it (which of course can include not at all). Pour it over the ice. Yes, really, that’s all. You’ll be amazed.

AffogatoTechnically not a drink, of course, but thank you, anyway, the Italians, for making something so simple and so delicious that you almost don’t miss the dessert wine everyone else is enjoying:
2 scoops very cold vanilla ice-cream
1 very hot espresso
Put your ice-cream into a tall glass. Pour over the espresso. Eat with a spoon ’til you get to the point where you can simply drink the dregs. This is, of course, even better if you add a shot of your favourite liqueur, but you can’t have everything.