Hot Buttered Rum for a Cold Wintry Day

It rained all night. Today it’s still overcast and damp out there. Down at the church a number of coreligionists remarked that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…something that is remarkable in a place that very rarely looks like a European’s idea of the season.

My son having made it amply clear that he’d just as soon not find his mother on his doorstep midday on Sundays, I joined some choir members singing at a nearby hospice. That was a good thing to do.

Arriving home an hour later, I was cold, hungry, and lonely. Thought I might mull some of the leftover wine that’s sitting on the kitchen counter, but then thought no; it actually was a decent bottle of wine. Got it on sale and hesitated to waste it by dumping spices and orange peel into it. So that left…what? Tea? Coffee? How festive…

But what’s this in the back of the larder? Lo, an ancient, half-forgotten flask of dark rum! Now that’s  festive. What could be better on a dim and chilly day than a mug of hot buttered rum?

Checked my Joy of Cooking to refresh the memory. Alas, this edition is not the REAL Joy—I left that behind when I ran off with the harmonica player. The fools who took it upon themselves, some years ago, to “update” that great classic, left out much of what made the Joy a joy. Among the missing: a recipe for hot buttered rum.

Luckily, this old lady’s memory is not so far gone that she couldn’t dredge up the way to make the stuff. Embroidered on it a bit by using demerara sugar (that crunchy brown stuff you can get in grocery stores now) instead of regular white sugar or the even more old-fashioned sugar cube. Good. Very good.

Here’s how to make hot buttered rum for one (or for as many as you please):

For each boozehound, get yourself a large, pleasing mug. Have on hand a bottle of decent rum, some water in a kettle, a cube of unsalted butter (salted will be OK, if that’s all you have), a bunch of sweet spices such as clove, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and some sugar.

Put the water on the stove to boil.

While the water’s heating, place a tablespoon or so of sugar in the bottom of a mug. Add ground spices to taste (I used them all, being somewhat undisciplined by nature). Pour a jigger of rum over the sugar and spices and stir to mix. Let this steep while the water comes to a boil.

Once the water does come to a boil, fill the cup with hot water. Add a pat of butter (about a tablespoon, give or take).

Consume. Be careful. It’s hot.

Other than a third of a bottle of rum, the larder is pretty bare today. I’m out of food and out of money, and even if I could afford to buy groceries don’t feel much like driving around in the rain. So I decided to make bread, of which I’ve had none for the past week.

The kneaded dough lends itself to nice little lunchy hors d’oeuvres, as follows:

Make some bread. I use a bread machine to knead the dough, but find that baking the result in the oven makes a loaf that tastes more convincingly handmade. So…

Get out the bread machine.

Put in two cups of hot but not scalding water. Add a tablespoon of active dry yeast. Then measure in five cups of white flour or a combination of white and whole wheat flour, as desired. Add about two teaspoons of granulated salt or a scant tablespoon of chunky sea salt. Turn the machine to “knead.”

Go away while the machine kneads the bread. When the kneading cycle ends, come back and tear off a few chunks of dough–two pieces about a tablespoon or two in volume for each munchie you wish to cook. Close the lid and leave the rest of the dough to rise.

Pat the little pieces of dough into circles. In the center of one, place a piece of cheese, a pecan, or both. Cover with another circle of dough and pinch the edges together.

Over medium heat, melt some butter in a small skillet. Place the filled dough circles in the hot butter and brown on both sides, flipping them over midway through the cooking process.

Serve with whatever you wish to drink. A light salad would sort of make this into a meal. More or less.

These make a great snack for kids or grownups. They go pretty good with hot buttered rum, too!

🙂

Oh. The rest of the dough? Let it rise in the bread machine. When the rising cycle ends, turn the dough out onto a floured board. Shape it into a loaf or two. If you’re doing free-form loaves, you can either make them into long baguettes or into a round loaf. Or if you prefer, shape it into a pair of loaves to fit into a couple of traditional bread pans.

Cover these with a clean dish towel. Let them rise again—probably about a half-hour or forty minutes. While they’re rising, preheat the oven to about 400 degrees. Then put the risen loaves into the oven and bake until they sound hollow when tapped with a fingernail—about 40 or 50 minutes. Good to eat!