Despite my love of fun, non-alcoholic beverages (kombucha, tea, lemonade, hibiscus coolers, etc., etc.), I’m always dropping the ball when it comes to making them for dinner parties. Folks usually only have one option: water.
But from now on, I’m going to try to up my drink game, big time. And this ginger, lemongrass and Thai basil sparkler is pretty much guaranteed to be paired with all future Southeast Asian meals.
The inspiration came from a ginger and mint lemonade that a friend once made (and for you local folks, his inspiration came from the drink at Govinda’s). But since I’m in Thai mode at the moment, my mind immediately translated it into something with Asian flavors. The lemon morphed into lemongrass and the mint got subbed out for spicy Thai basil. And the sparkling water? Well, I just like the bubbles.
I’m really not much of a drinker these days, so I kept mine virgin. But a splash of rum or vodka would turn this into quite a boozy treat.

Ginger, Lemongrass and Thai Basil Sparkler
Yield: 1 serving
Prep Time: 3 minutes
Total Time: 3 minutes
Ingredients:
1-2 Tablespoons ginger and lemongrass syrup
4-5 Thai Basil leaves
handful of ice, about 1 cup
1 cup sparkling water or club soda
lemongrass leaf for garnish, optional
Directions:
Combine the syrup and the Thai basil leaves in a tall glass. Use a wooden spoon to gently smash the basil leaves to help release their flavor. Add the ice and club soda. Stir to mix and then garnish with a lemongrass leaf, if desired.
Long after I’ve packed up and moved on from Burma and its cuisine, I’ll still be preparing plenty of my off-the-blog meals using a classic Burmese ingredient combination.
I almost stayed away from this recipe because I’ve been laying off the grains a bit recently, but I couldn’t resist seeing whether the shallot oil, alliums, turmeric, cayenne and fish sauce combination could work its magic on rice. The answer? Yes, yes indeed. Especially when it’s topped with the aforementioned little pieces of heaven.
Burmese Basics week continues with this toasted chickpea flour, or besan. The Burmese use it as both a thickener for soups and sauces as well as a seasoning for salads.
The toasted chickpea flour should only take about 10-15 minutes to make, so there’s no need to make it in huge quantities. But once you taste the depth of flavor and texture it adds to salad, you just might want to.
I was jazzed with the idea of making non-soy tofu, but wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do with it. So I turned to Southeast-Asian food expert Naomi Duguid. Her gorgeous
Duguid’s recipe called for soy sauce, but I prefer fish sauce. I just love the depth and funkiness that fish sauce adds in stir-fries and dressings. But feel free to stick to soy sauce, Bragg’s liquid aminos or even coconut aminos to make this vegan / vegetarian friendly.
I hope you guys don’t mind my taking a quick detour today to Vietnam. I never got around to making this crab and asparagus soup during my Vietnamese phase last summer, but put it on my must-make list for when asparagus returned to the markets.
I made and photographed some Burmese food this past weekend, but I’ve been up to my eyeballs with taxes and reading travel guidebooks over the past couple days, so I haven’t been able to do any photo editing or recipe writing. I had been leisurely planning a trip to South America this fall until I found out that tickets to New Zealand are sub $700. Unreal, right?
I’m a neutrals kind of girl, which means my Christmas decorations typically consist of white lights, natural elements (greens and pine cones), and maybe just a little bit of gold or another metallic for shimmer and sparkle. But I’m all for the red and green color palette when it’s on the dinner table.
A version of this 
And since I’ve totally fallen for French pots de crème desserts (coffee version here), I now find myself longing for those miniature pots de crème cups that are impossibly cute but far from practical for a girl with a serious lack of 
Some folks bake pots de crème with a foil covering to keep a skin from forming on the top, but I happily left the foil off. The skin reminded me of the Royal cook-and-serve chocolate pudding that my mom always made when I was growing up.






