Chef Nir Mesika at the restaurant Timna in New York shrugs off our usual standards for popcorn—the crunch we chase—and instead narrows in on its salty, buttery flavor. Airy, snappy popcorn, bedamned—Mesika is about to soak it to the point of no return.
Boil popped popcorn in half-and-half, sugar, and salt (haters of damp popcorn, look away), then let it chill out overnight; the starch from the popcorn will leach into the dairy, thickening and flavoring it. Some hours later, obliterated the kernels—now pillow-soft and fat with milk—in a food processor and strain the mixture. You're left with a pure popcorn flavor in the body of a cold, frothy drink.
6 to 8 small portions (it will be enough)
6 1/2 cups
popped popcorn (from about 6 tablespoons unpopped kernels, popped with a small amount of neutral-flavored oil)
1/4 to 1/2 ounces
salt, to taste (I prefer somewhere right in the middle)
Popped popcorn, ground cinnamon, and crumbled halvah, for garnishing
A (former) student of English, a lover of raisins, a user of comma splices. My spirit animal is an eggplant. I'm probably the person who picked all of the cookie dough out of the cookie dough ice cream. For that, I'm sorry.