A while back, I saw that a friend of mine, Odette Williams, had published this gorgeous Passion Fruit Margarita in The Wall Street Journal. I’m a sucker for great food styling and photography, and another friend of mine, Jenny Huang, shot the photo. It obviously made me want to make it, and I did.
Also, I love passion fruit.
It was delicious. It captured the essence of what I want to be drinking in the summertime, tropical fruit. Especially when I lived in New York, it transports you to another place where you’re sitting by the beach and whatever bad things are happening in your life just melt away.
I decided I wanted to invite Odette to do a little Substack collab on summer cocktails and she was game.
So for this week’s newsletter, I want to introduce you to my friend Odette. She’s an amazing Australian writer living in New York. She’s the best-selling author of Simple Cake and Simple Pasta, both incredible books. She’s also the writer of Party Trick, a column in The Wall Street Journal, and the creator of the very delicious newsletter DEVOUR, full of incredible, really simple, really satisfying recipes. You should go check it out.
I asked Odette why she created this cocktail and why passion fruit. I was curious about her love of and connection to passion fruit as an Aussie living in New York. I loved this story so much that I asked her to send us a little voice note telling it.
Growing up in Sydney, I enjoyed a steady supply of passion fruit. Vines hung on neighbors’ fences, and the fruits lurked in every fruit bowl, getting more wrinkled and sweeter by the day. They were so abundant, my brother and I used them as cricket balls in our backyard.
Australians love this deep-purple fruit full of crunchy black seeds suspended in a juicy yellow pulp. Its flavor—at once tangy and floral—sets your blood racing. When I moved to New York from Australia I found the winters brutal. I’d daydream of somewhere tropical, of sun-kissed skin, saltwater and sand. For years I’d missed having this mood-enhancing fruit—more invigorating than a shot of coffee and packed with vitamins—in my day-to-day life. Passion fruits were almost impossible to find during the winter in New York. When I did find them at a specialty grocer, I would pay an extortionate price. Then I discovered the Pitaya Foods brand of passion fruit purée: all-natural, 100% fruit, seedless, with no added sugar. It comes, conveniently, in bite-size frozen cubes that can be defrosted as needed. Find it at Whole Foods, specialty supermarkets and online. I stock up so I can always mix passionfruit margaritas on a whim. It’s also fantastic in smoothies and desserts, like Passion Fruit Key Lime Pie. Discovering them was my ticket to sunshine year ‘round.
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You can find Odette's Passionfruit Margarita recipe here:
Odette's Passionfruit Margarita Recipe
I love Odette’s passion fruit margarita, but I also love heat. So I decided to make something just a little spicy and a little Mexican: an Ancho Passion Fruit Margarita.
One of the things I love doing when I’m making cocktails, agua frescas, or nonalcoholic drinks is making shrubs (a fruit, sugar, and vinegar syrup) and spicy syrups. If you’ve been reading Sazón for a while, you know that I love that sweet-and-spicy combination. Using a hot chile to make a syrup that I’ll then use in a dessert or cocktail makes me incredibly happy.
And it’s really easy. All you do is make a simple syrup and drop in either chopped fresh or dried chiles. Then you can finish it with herbs or add spices. Warming spices work really well, like cinnamon, allspice, clove, or a little orange zest. If you’re using fresh chiles, drop in some cilantro, mint, parsley, basil, lemongrass, or thyme. Delicious.
For this margarita, though, I wanted to use chile ancho. Anchos are ripe, dried poblanos. As they ripen, they develop their sugars, so the flavor becomes less grassy and herbaceous and more complex, fruity, and floral. They have an almost smoky, plum-like flavor, with hints of prune and raisin. They also have a mild heat that complements the brightness of passion fruit.
Ancho Passion Fruit Margarita Recipe
But I couldn’t stop at two cocktails. I had to go for a third and a fourth.
Since we’re playing in the margarita space, another of my absolute favorite tropical fruits is guava. When I go to the mercado almost every morning, especially when it’s warm and guavas are in season, they have the strongest perfume that just wafts through the mercado. I can literally find the vendors selling the best guavas by scent.
I did it this morning. I went to buy guavas for the cocktail in the photos, and I walked up to a stand because I’d smelled them from across the mercado. The man told me, “Yeah, they’re really good right now.”
Now, I know a lot of people probably won’t have access to fresh guavas. Not a problem. Use guava purée. But if you can find them, or the next time you’re in Mexico, definitely go to the mercado and get some, or get a guava agua fresca, margarita, or cocktail, because they’re just so good.
In this recipe, I use tequila reposado because it has a slight caramel-like flavor that I enjoy. It’s aged in oak which gives it a rounder flavor and finish. You get those nice little caramel notes go really well with guava.
The final cocktail is an ode to growing up in Texas.
My dad grew a bunch of peach trees, and in the summertime, they were loaded. The branches were literally bending with the weight of the peaches. Sometimes, after a heavy rainfall, the rain wouldn’t snap the branches. But a few days later, after the peaches had absorbed all that water, the branches would snap.
I remember picking peaches, and my mom would make the most incredible peach cobbler after. It was my favorite dessert of summer. That cinnamon, butter, sugar, and those caramelized peaches at the edges of the pan, bubbling up while it baked. OMG.
Served with a big scoop of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream. That’s what I want to eat every summer, all summer long.
So as an homage, I made a Peach Tequila Sour. It has muddled peaches, lemon juice, tequila añejo, and agave syrup. I’m using añejo because it has an even more intense caramel note that plays well with the peaches and agave.
The brûléed peach garnish is optional, but it’s really yummy. Once you get started, you may want to make a lot of them because they’re great cocktail snacks. You cut the peaches into wedges, sprinkle a little sugar over the top, and use a kitchen torch to brûlée the sugar. Then use them as garnish, or just pop them in your mouth and eat them. It’s like a caramel-coated peach.
You’re getting all the flavors of peach cobbler in this delicious tequila sour. And, of course, don’t forget the cherry.
Odette also sent me a guide to buying mezcales and tequilas that she published in The Wall Street Journal. We both thought it would be really useful for this summer cocktail guide.
I hope you use it, like it, and enjoy it.
Cascahuín Tahona Blanco Tequila
The name Cascahuín, meaning Mountain of Light, reflects this tequila’s origins in El Arenal, Jalisco, a place known for attracting lightning. It’s made from 100% lowland agave, roasted in brick ovens, crushed by a tahona (volcanic stone used since ancient times to pound agave), fermented in ceramic vessels and then distilled in copper pots slowly. The result: a pure expression of traditional tequila, texturally rich and complex. $80 for 750 ml
Caballito Cerrero Azul Blanco 46
Produced by the renowned tequila brand founded by Alfonso Jiménez Rosales in Amatitan, Jalisco, using agave varieties exclusively grown on the family’s land. While not officially certified as tequila or mezcal, this dry, mineral-driven, medium-bodied spirit has a long finish. Versatile and vibrant. $75 for 750 ml
Yola Jimenez inherited her grandfather’s Oaxacan farm in 2007 and founded this female-led brand. The bottle’s elegant design reflects its roots. The mini version would make an excellent stocking-stuffer. Twice-distilled and wild-yeast-fermented, it has a peppery, smoky finish that’s ultra-smooth. $24 for 200 ml; $51 for 750 ml
Rey Campero (King of the Countryside) was founded by mezcalero Romulo Sanchez Parada, who learned to make mezcal from his father. Made with espadín agave, fermented in the open air with wild yeasts and often aged in glass for a softer feel, each batch offers a unique experience. The one I tried had a lot going on: soft, floral, citrusy, spicy, smoky. $46 for 750 ml
On Vago’s website, co-founder Judah Emanuel Kuper shares a rollicking tale of how he came to export mezcals made from master mezcaleros, beginning with a trip to Oaxaca in search of “something a little bit hidden, unknown, maybe even a little bit dirty.” Each bottle details the maker, pueblo, agave, process and batch size. I tried the espadín by Don Emigdio from the Miahuatlán valley; extra roasting time gives this mineral-driven spirit a well-balanced, no-nonsense personality. $52 for 750 ml
Thank you so much, Odette, for the guide, your voice note, your recipe, and for being so incredibly kind and gracious. I hope everybody checks out Odette’s column in the Journal and her amazing Substack.
I hope you make these drinks because it’s impossible to drink one and not be happy. They’re fun, they’re beautiful, and they use the best of what’s in season this summer. That makes me so incredibly happy, and I hope they make you happy, too.
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Rick Martínez
James Beard Award winner, Mexican cookbook author, and creator of Sazón, my weekly Mexican cooking newsletter with Mexican recipes, cooking techniques, original dishes, and deep-dive guides from my life in Mexico.
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