Simple Rosé Cocktails

If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know that I am captivated by the idea of hosting. I say ‘idea’ because that’s essentially what it is; I design events for a living, but rarely for myself. This is something I would very much like to change.

When I envision my happiest self, it’s in a home of my own design; a sanctuary that expresses my style and personal values. There, I would be surrounded my favorite flowers, books, furniture, and art. And of course, there would be a delicious garden, which would be composed almost entirely of white flowers. A long time ago, I fell in love with the idea of creating a night-blooming garden. I can think of nothing so poetic as sitting outside at night, with a journal on my lap, and watching flowers rise to the light of the moon. I would let my bedroom window open, so maybe even my sleep would be fragrant with jasmine, tuberose, moonflower.

Naturally, the garden would inform my daytime hours as well; I would always be cutting wild roses and dahlias for my free-flowing arrangements. There would be at least a tiny potager with plenty of herbs and edible flowers, walled by lavender. Every so often, I would open my home (and garden) to gatherings and dinners and, hopefully, uplifting conversation. I want, with every fiber of my being, to create a space for beauty, thought, laughter, and simply for kindness. I want dinners filled with the evidence of my garden, and of my imagination. I want to bring others into my world, and leave them better for it; I want to spend a night fortified with champagne and conversation.

For some reason, this image of myself as savvy hostess seems, to me, to be the embodiment of health and self-love. As someone who struggles with indecision, I long to be so relaxed and assured of my choices. I want to have the confidence to choose the wine, design the menu, select the music, and steer the conversation, all in my own unique style. I long to invite people into my space, rather than scramble to fit into theirs. I want to like my own decisions that much.

In the context of my work, I have found my personal style and my creative voice. No one can persuade me to change or conform my style; it’s a nonnegotiable fact of my being. I sometimes wonder at this assertiveness, this easy confidence in my own abilities. I wonder why I have always felt so capable and expressed through my work, and so often unsure in my… well, my life. I’m sure this stems from a personal desire to please, or worse, to impress. It’s part of who I am: the good student, the high performer, the approval-seeker. But, when those parts of me go into overdrive, I lose a bit of my luster. The artist, the contrarian, the trendsetter in me dims. And those are parts of me that I like; they, too, deserve expression. Kindness and acquiescence is beautiful; so is style, verve, and opinion.

In the service of becoming this confident, self-assured hostess, I wanted to create a little something that felt like me. Something floral and pretty, with my touch on it. When it comes to becoming who we want to be, I believe in starting small; starting anywhere, really. That’s what I’m doing here: starting with a cocktail I like. Small victories, right?

This sparkling cocktail could easily have been made with champagne or prosecco, but I wanted a pink drink. Rosé is having its moment (it’s honestly starting to feel a bit passé), but who am I to resist anything Provençal? Pink? Pretty? I’m hopeless in the face of any of it. The cocktail in question is mercifully simple to make, beautiful, and blush. For me, it strikes just the right mood– feminine, playful, garden-inspired, and young. As light and gauzy as a summer sundress.

To begin, I made floral ice cubes with sprigs of lavender, herbs, and rose petals. I would hardly limit you to these choices; when I think of all the possible edible flowers, my imagination runs wild. I think of how lovely borage would be, with its blue blossoms and cucumber taste. Elderflower, with its tiny white star-flowers. Violas and pansies and nasturtiums, are of course, classic edible flowers. But there are more evocative choices. Honeysuckle feels reminiscent of summer and childhood; of long-forgotten fences overflowing with honeyed vines. Milkweed reminds me of some of my favorite pastoral poems and settings. Acacia is perhaps the most ethereal choice; a flower, it seems, that fairies dreamed up. The white blossoms come in clusters, like wisteria, or grapes. They taste of honey and something more delicate, jasmine or orange blossom.

Anyway, where were we? Floral ice cubes. I can get carried away.

After the ice cubes, I made a blackberry simple syrup, which really couldn’t have been simpler—blackberries, sugar, water. A couple of inches of the syrup are added to a favorite champagne glass, followed by a long pour of a nice, dry Provençal rosé. I encourage you to be very on-the-nose with the interpretation, and garnish the drink with lavender and thyme (another nod, of course, to Provençe). And, of course, a couple of blackberries. The cocktail tastes, to me, just of summer. Of sun-drenched afternoons and evening garden parties and indolence and love.

I may not be a goddess of garden and home, just yet. But each day I’m striving to become the kind of peaceful, assured person I want to be. Beauty emboldens my spirit. I feel best when I am creating it and offering it to others. It is my hope that I can widen my world to include more friendship, more hosting, and more moments delighting in this one life.

Because I’m practicing my hostess-ing, I suggest preparing these drinks while listening to “La Vie En Rose” (Edith Piaf or, if it must be a cover, Madeleine Peyroux) or “Quelqu’un m’a dit” by Carla Bruni. Dinner could somehow involve roast chicken, haricots verts, a summer grain salad with mint, a heaping tray of raw vegetables. Wear something effortless, and relax with friends in some breezy outdoor setting– pool, garden, patio.  Santé!

Recipe sourced and reprinted from the lovely Lark & Linen.

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