I made sangria and so can you
⁄¡Olé! Firstly, to disappoint you—the best writing trick I know, disappoint the reader as soon as possible—this is about white sangria. This is due to a longstanding dislike for red wine on the part of my co-consumer.
You’ll need some sort of solid storage container, ideally a jug. It doesn’t have to be venetian crystal, but honestly, life is too short. We used something even better: an old plastic juice bottle. It really brings out the terroir of $8 white wine.
As alluded to, you’ll need white wine. It should be bad. Well, it shouldn’t be a great wine. I used a semillon sauv-blanc—the redwine disliker also has suspicions on several sort of white varieties.
Dump it, or pour lovingly, into your jug. Or carafe. Or, ahem, juice bottle.
Add litre bottle of lemonade. Aren’t bubbles fun?
Slice a country mile’s worth of citrus. In ours went blood navels, regular oranges, and limes. Thin whole slices are nice, and presumably allow optimal flavour smooshing around, but we had to cut smaller pieces so we can cram them into our bottle. The poetry of cooking: cram, smoother, chop. Lovely.
Add a few sprigs of mint. Don’t get confused though, this doesn’t signify dessert!
Because we’re all young and it was a Sunday we add one two three four just kidding only two honestly shots of Bacardi. Shake gently or stir and dump in some ice—or frozen fruit puree/apple juice—before you drink. Pour into long glasses or ikea plastic cups, as above.
Best drunk while en pique-nique.
