Rum

For perfectly smooth slices, cut the layered cake with a hot serrated knife. The cake can be wrapped well in plastic wrap and stored in the freezer for up to 3 weeks.

Even the most modest imbibers insist on a taste of this spiced rum punch. It does indeed pack a punch, so serve with caution.

In the late summer and early autumn, in the interior of the island, the great harvests of pumpkin and squash are preserved by the farmwives in varied fashion. Often the flesh is cooked down to a marmalade and sparked with candied oranges, or poached chunks of it are set to rest in a sweet vinegared brine. Too, thick slices of poached flesh are often rolled around in a sugary syrup and left to dry. Of a most luscious flavor, this candied pumpkin is sometimes used with dark rum and a handful of broken, bittersweet chocolate, to make a tart like the one we were served in the village of Milo. I was dazzled by it. But when I heard of the perplexing process by which the tart’s author had candied the pumpkin (she began by saying that I should gather fifty to sixty pumpkins), I was slightly shaken. I found, though, that simply roasting the flesh of a pumpkin or squash and then bathing it in caramelized sugar gives a flavor similar and perhaps even richer and requires far less drama.

So unlike the exquisitely wrought sweetmeats of other southern pasticcerie, pastry in Basilicata is often in the form of some rustic fried fritter, its batter honey-sweetened and studded with raisins or nuts. The most luscious version, though, is the one that asks for ricotta and dark rum. We found them being made in a small shop with an even smaller selling counter on a little street off the Via Pretoria, just before one reaches Piazza Mario Pagano in Potenza. On more than one iced winter’s morning have we stood outside its doors and waited for the sugar-dusted, crisp-crusted warmth of them.

From Lecce and its environs, quince paste—a deeply bronzed jelly molded into plump squares and tucked inside wooden fruit boxes—is our favorite Puglian treasure to take back to Tuscany. Here follows a lovely sort of pudding made from quince that, though it offers a less-dense dose of the fruit, yields one with all its beautiful, apple-wine sort of autumn savor.

This is one of our End of Prohibition party special punch recipes and it was adapted from the Philadelphia Fish House punch, which was a favorite of Generals Washington and Lafayette. We replaced the original cognac with our local Laird’s AppleJack and got something fantastic as a result. We use all seasonal fruits for this—a beautiful feature that also makes it extra tasty.

The Mai Tai cocktail is Elvis with a guitar singing in the sunset in Hawaii. It was invented in 1944 by Victor “Trader Vic” Bergeron, who mixed Jamaican rum, lime juice, a few dashes of orange Curaçao, French almond syrup, and rock candy syrup. According to Trader Vic history, it was served to some friends from Tahiti, who promptly proclaimed “Mai tai, roa ae!”—which in Tahitian means “Out of this world, the best!” When this drink is made right, it is really, really super tasty. By default this cocktail is in the Tiki cocktail family, which became popular after World War II when soldiers from the South Pacific returned home in the 1940s and ’50s. This trend began in Hawaii and on the West Coast and, then traveled across the nation. Unfortunately, like most cocktails of that era, the recipe was artificialized and cheapened over several decades and even now in Hawaii it is still made with commercial Mai Tai mixers and artificial flavors. At Employees Only, we make our tribute to this Tiki classic with twelve-year-old Flor de Caña Nicaraguan rum, the best French orange Curaçao, Lebanese almond syrup, and fresh lime juice. The traditional rock candy syrup was left out to keep the cocktail balanced, not just sweet.

The British Royal Navy, like every armed force, loves rules and discipline. So in 1740, they issued a rule that every sailor be supplied with a daily ration of grog, which he had to consume. No exceptions! By 1795, the recipe for grog called for rum, water, lime or lemon juice, and sugar. What a splendid idea! You’ve got to love the British; with that act, not only did they cure and prevent scurvy, but they also ensured that the crews had something to look forward to every day on long voyages. It was so popular that it quickly spread across the whole Caribbean and South America. The origins of the Daiquiri itself are somewhat vague, but most clues lead to a bar in Santiago, Cuba, called Venus. Near that bar there is a beach called Daiquiri—hence the name. The drink itself was supposedly invented by an American engineer, Jennings Cox, general manager of the Spanish American Iron Company who while stationed in Cuba ran out of gin and turned to rum to entertain his guests. The original recipe is simply beautiful, relying on the freshness of the limes and the quality of the rum. It is an exercise in balancing sweet and sour while letting the light, grassy, earthy rum flavor carry through.

They say that the Hemingway Daiquiri was invented for Ernest Hemingway in the La Floradita bar in Cuba. Whether the stories are true or false, no person in history can match Ernest Hemingway as an Olympian cocktail connoisseur.

The Mojito was born at the La Bodeguita del Medio in Havana, Cuba, in the 1940s. Legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote “My Mojito in La Bodeguita,” which still can be read today, hanging on the wall. Others claim that this was a forgery, a marketing ploy of the restaurant owners to promote their mojito cocktail and bring in tourists after communism took over. Over the last decade, the Mojito has quietly become one of the most recognized drinks in the world. Today, people carelessly consume it regardless of the season or weather. But somewhere along the way, the mojito has been reconfigured as a short, stout, bittersweet rum hybrid of muddled lime wedges and pulverized mint. Then a friend of ours who went to film school in Cuba came back and pointed out that mojitos were supposed to be tall, light, and fizzy, clean and effervescent. We brought it back to its true form and labeled it the Havana-Style Mojito. Although it never made it onto our menu, it is the closest you can get to a true mojito without the luxury of Havana Club Cuban rum. It is a fantastic cocktail—but please don’t order it while there is snow on the ground.

This was inspired by a favorite ice cream, rum raisin. For the deepest flavor, use a dark rum, such as Myer’s; light rum just won’t taste the same.

These cakes are traditionally served with unsweetened, fresh whipped cream. You can top them with fresh berries, if you like. The recipe is easily doubled.

Smooth, firm, and creamy, this pie is naturally a lovely shade of pink, so you need not add the food coloring unless you want a deeper color. After 6 hours in the freezer, it’s slice-able but still soft. Left overnight, it’s firm but still creamy—a little piece of strawberry heaven.

Drizzled with a liquor-spiked caramel glaze and filled with rum-soaked raisins, these cupcakes are reminiscent of a popular ice cream flavor

Consider this pie comfort food for grown-ups. Rum adds a spirited kick to both the custard filling and the whipped cream topping. A vanilla bean does double duty, as well: Its seeds dot the filling, and the pod infuses the whipped cream topping with a delicate flavor.