I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m a little over January. I know that one should never wish the time away, but there’s something about this month that would test even the truest optimist. Perhaps it’s the rather melancholic sight of spent Christmas trees dropping their needles on the curb side, of unlit lights, or of boxes of packed-up decorations waiting to be returned to the loft. There’s a sense of an ending, with very little tangible to look forward to or to break through the grey days of this seemingly longest month. (I guess there’s a reason why holiday bookings surge in the first two weeks of the year.)

Even the garden is unusually bare. New motherhood rather got in the way of planning and planting last spring and summer so our veg beds are somewhat depleted. At this time of year we would usually have a good supply of leeks, kale and chard, and at least a few fat beetroot, but alas! At least the chickens are enjoying scratching up the beds and saving me the work of turning over the soil.

It’s a blessing then that the winter kitchen still has a few treasures to offer, and while pomegranate is king over the festive season, in January my heart belongs to citrus. Clementines, tangerines, grapefruit, pomelo, blood oranges, lemons, limes… I’m really not fussy. All conceal the taste of sunshine beneath their waxy exteriors, so that on a cold Yorkshire day I can find myself transported to a citrus grove. Even the task of transferring the fruit from grocery bag to bowl lifts my heart – the splash of colour on the counter – and I can never resist eating at least one piece before all of the shopping is put away. The spritz of oil as one digs ones thumbnail into the peel, the uncurling of the skin and that first mouthful of bursting juice are all part of the wonderful ritual.

I like to think of how these gems of the culinary world would have been received when their presence was less ubiquitous. I have an image of a Victorian kitchenmaid prizing open a wooden crate to find oranges and lemons tucked into a nest of meadow-sweet hay. Imagine the scent of summer, captured and transported across the seas, or how they must have seemed to shine in their bedding.

In this recipe I wanted to celebrate that brightness and to play with that sense of exoticism. I decided to use a dry gin as the base as (for me) it’s the most refreshing of the spirits and pairs well with the acidic fruit. For the citrus I chose clementines as I have a particular fondness for their fragrant sweetness, but I have no doubt that any of the small orange family would work well. The addition of the kaffir lime leaf syrup adds another subtle summery note, while the lime juice cuts through any stickiness and makes this drink a true thirst-quencher.

Enjoy!

Note on measurements: I usually give measurements in millilitres and grams, but in the case of simple syrups (which usually call for a 1:1 ratio) I use cups to easily give equal quantities.

Ingredients

For the Kaffir Lime Simple Syrup:

Half a cup of granulated sugar

Half a cup of water

Three Kaffir lime leaves

For the cocktail:

40ml gin

30ml clementine juice

20ml lime juice

10ml kaffir lime leaf syrup

Method

To make the Kaffir Lime Leaf Simple Syrup

1. Place the sugar and water in a small saucepan and heat gently until the sugar granules have dissolved.
2. Tear in the lime leaves and cook for a further five minutes on a very low heat. The mixture should gently simmer but not boil vigorously or darken in colour.
3. Remove the pan from the heat and allow the syrup to infuse for at least one hour.
4. Strain the syrup into a sealable jar and store in the fridge for up to one week.

To make the Kaffir and Clementine Gin Fizz

1. Combine the syrup, clementine juice and lime juice in a cocktail shaker and shake briefly over ice.

2. Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour in the gin, juice and syrup mixture and top with the soda water. Stir briefly with a bar spoon an serve immediately.