{"id":50923,"date":"2023-10-24T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-10-24T13:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/?p=50923"},"modified":"2023-10-23T14:38:08","modified_gmt":"2023-10-23T18:38:08","slug":"pomegranate-cocktail-recipe","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/people\/pomegranate-cocktail-recipe\/","title":{"rendered":"Sailor & Galley: A Pomegranate Cocktail Fit for a Goddess"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Lynda <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n Lynda Morris Childress enjoys an early spring day on board her charter yacht, Stressbuster<\/i>, in the Greek Isles.<\/span>\n Lynda Morris Childress <\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n\n

We were six aboard Stressbuster<\/em>, our Greek-designed Atlantic 70, on the day spring arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was late March; we were under sail in the Gulf of G\u00f6kova on Turkey\u2019s Carian Coast. Our guests had joined my husband, Kostas, and me a week before, on the Greek isle of Lesbos, to begin their preseason 28-day charter. The plan was to meander slowly south through Greece\u2019s easternmost Dodecanese islands, with a short foray into Turkey before ending the trip back in Greece. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Claudia, who\u2019d booked the boat, was an experienced Lake Superior captain and boat owner with roots in southern New England. She was gathering local knowledge while hatching a plan to retire and sail the Aegean a few years hence. \u201cI want a real cruise,\u201d she\u2019d said with a grin, \u201cnot a relay race.\u201d She\u2019d asked a few adventurous friends to join her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The weather so far had been cold, damp and cloudy. Sailing south, we kept warm with hot drinks and conversation. Cockpit discussions often included \u00adquestions for our crew about Greek history and culture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the significance of the \u00adpomegranate in Greece?\u201d someone asked. \u201cI see the symbol and the actual trees everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, the pomegranate,\u201d Kostas answered, leaping at the chance to expound on two of his favorite topics: Greek history and mythology. \u201cIt was Persephone\u2019s fruit. She was the goddess of spring and new life, but also queen of the underworld and death. Every year, when she emerged to spend six months aboveground, spring came. When she returned to the underworld, all plants died and it turned to winter.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEvidently, she\u2019s still underground,\u201d someone said with a smirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That day, we were bound for Castle Island, home of Cleopatra\u2019s Beach (yes, that<\/em> Cleopatra). None of us had yet shed our fleece jackets and long pants. As we ate a quick lunch underway, clouds melted away to dazzling sunshine, blue skies and a warm, 12-knot breeze. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPersephone heard you,\u201d Claudia said, peeling off her jacket. One by one, \u00adfleeces fell. Faces turned toward the warmth. Eyes closed, all aboard were lulled into sleepy silence by the riffs of gentle wind and the swish of the hull through the sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A soft splash came from abeam. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDolphins!\u201d I screeched, shattering the peace. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around me, guests launched into a full-tilt boogie. I headed to the bow, like a mama duck with charter ducklings following. Behind me, I heard: \u201cWhere\u2019s my camera?\u201d and \u201cOh my God, this is awesome!\u201d followed by various attempts to engage with the animals: woos, clicks, soprano la-las, and mangled attempts at wolf whistles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the time the dolphins veered away in choreographed unison, we were approaching Castle Island. We dropped anchor in an empty Cleopatra\u2019s Bay, surrounded only by olive trees, pines, and the scattered remains of ancient structures ashore. The queen\u2019s beach was on the windward side, a short hike across the island. We dinghied in to explore it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ashore, it appeared deserted. A small concession shack was closed tight. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cleopatra\u2019s Beach was a pristine stretch of deserted white sand with wooden walking platforms. Evidently, the extravagant queen spent considerable time here, and ordered sand brought in by ship from Africa so that her lover, Anthony, could sunbathe in style. Scholars have since confirmed that the sand is not local. The sea looked inviting. It was deceptive. From the corner of my eye, I caught a sudden movement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have<\/em> to swim here,\u201d Claudia said as she streaked toward the water. \u201cIt\u2019s Cleopatra\u2019s Beach!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A splash and a beat later: \u201cHoly crap, it\u2019s cold!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back on the boat, the time was edging toward cocktail hour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need a Cape Codder,\u201d Claudia said, referring to the popular New England cocktail made with vodka and cranberry juice. \u201cI have a craving. That cold swim did it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We didn\u2019t have cranberry juice, but we did have pomegranate juice, which is sold all over Greece. Similar in taste to cranberry, it\u2019s tart; better with a little sweetener such as apple juice or dilution with club soda, but very refreshing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow \u2019bout vodka and pomegranate juice?\u201d I suggested. \u201cWe can call it a Persephone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Claudia volunteered to bartend, and we put our heads together to create the delicious cocktail below. In honor of the Greek goddess who\u2019d served up this perfect first day of spring, we christened it Persephone\u2019s Potion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo Greek goddesses and Egyptian queens,\u201d someone said as we raised our glasses. The answer was a unanimous, \u201cHear, hear!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Persephone\u2019s Potion\u00a0(serves 1)<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
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\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Pomegranate <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n Persephone\u2019s Potion<\/span>\n Lynda Morris Childress <\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n