Legal Rectification, Part I
I am a rebel. I’m the kind of guy who cuts the tags off mattresses even though they warn that it’s unlawful to do so. Take that mattress police. Back in days of VCRs, I didn’t bother to rewind just ‘cause the “man” said I should. Better clear a cell in Gitmo, ‘cause that’s just how I roll. And, I once parked thirty minutes in one of those green 20-minutes-only zones. That’s right, I’m an outlaw.
In fact, I’ve been infusing or “rectifying” spirits even though it’s been illegal in California -- apparently. Of course, nobody in the entire state knew that it had been illegal since Prohibition, until 2008 when some fresh-out-of-whatever-training-program ABC enforcement officer made it a thing.
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Fortunately, the same State Assembly that can’t pass a budget without throwing the state into chaos was able to fix it so infusing isn’t illegal any more. (Cue Visigoths-at-the-gates-of-Rome footage)
No need to worry, just because it’s no longer illegal doesn’t mean that infusing can’t still be fun. And, if you’ve never tried it, or have been holding off because you fear the wrath of the fresh-out-of-whatever-training-program ABC enforcement officer, you really should give it a go.
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Most have probably tried one of the many commercially infused spirits, which offer a narrow band of mainstream flavors like orange, mint, vanilla, or even chocolate. Those are fun and easy, but the flavors can be monotone and the favors that are commercially available are by no means exhaustive.
I first became familiar with infused spirits while living in Hawaii. The locals have for decades been infusing tequila with a local treat called Li Hing Mui, which is a Chinese treat made from dried, plum pits (it tastes a lot better than it sounds). Children in China suck on plum pits that offer different flavors from salt to the reddish, sweet flavor called Li Hing Mui. The Chinese brought the treat to the islands, called it “crack seed,” and some clever bartender thought to try it in Mexico’s national drink; God bless the cultural tapestry that is America. The result is a tequila that’s infused with a sweet, fruity, and bright red wonder that truly captures the imagination.
Shops in mainland Chinatowns sell the salty seeds, but I have yet to find the sweet Li Hing Mui. On vacation, you can pick some up at any crack seed shop. They’re not as easy to find as ABC Stores, but you should still have no trouble finding one. Of course, there is always the Internet. There are a number of sites that sell Li Hing Mui for a couple of dollars per bag, plus shipping. It’s totally worth it just to have the bright-red tequila bottle as a decoration, if nothing else.
Li Hing Mui Tequila
The convenient thing about infusing with Li Hing Mui is there’s not a lot of displacement, so you can just pop three or four of the seeds into a 750 ml. bottle of good tequila, seal the bottle well, and let it sit for about a month. You may have to remove some of the liquid, depending on the bottle’s fill line. If necessary you can also use an air-tight, glass container, like an ice tea jug. I sometimes have a hard time fitting the seeds through the neck of the bottle and end up breaking them in halves or quarters before plopping them down the neck of the bottle. Over time, you’ll notice the sweet redness leaching into the booze. When the tequila is bright red and you can smell the fruitiness, it’s done.
Li Hing Fiz
Ingredients
* 1 ½ oz. Li Hing Mui-infused Tequila * 6 oz. Lemon/Lime Soda
Drop some ice into a Collin, Highball, or random 10-12 oz. glass. Pour in the tequila, add the soda, and stir. Garnish with a cherry and celebrate not having to look over your shoulder for the booze police.
Your Li Hing Mui may take a few weeks to ship from your online store of choice, so next week I’ll hit you with another infusion recipe that uses ingredients closer to home.
