Posts filed under 'fruit'
Once upon a time I lived in Washington DC surrounded by people from all over the world. We liked to cook together, go to the beach together, go dancing together and a few more things. When we went to the beach, our Peruvian member, Elba, brought melon juice in a giant vacuum bottle. That’s how I learned that melon was edible, or even good. Before that, the smell put me off so badly I couldn’t bear to eat it. I shan’t mention what I thought it smelled like, because maybe you like the way it smells.
It is hot here today, just the kind of day when Elba made melon juice. I have half a melon left from one Amelia gave me. This is the melon juice when it was just made.
This is 32 seconds later.
It is simply the most thirst quenching thing in the world.
Melon Juice for .75 liter
1/2 ripe melon (cantalope, honeydew, etc.) peeled, seeded and cubed
juice of one lemon
sugar to taste– I used 3-4 tablespoons, and it will depend on your lemon, you see
.5 liter cold water
a little milk
I used my stick blender, but any blender will do. Put the melon in a blending container and whiz it until it is smooth. Add the lemon juice and then the water and whiz it again. Add a couple of tablespoons of sugar and mix, and then taste. Add and mix until it tastes exactly right to you. Mix in a few drops of milk, not more than a tablespoon. I don’t know why the milk makes it more thirst quenching, but it does. This drink has lots of mineral salts in it that are very helpful when you are sweating a lot and believe me, it tastes a lot better than those sports drinks!
This won’t have many calories, since melon is almost free of them. It’s delicious, says she who hated melon all her life. It is almost serendipitous that melons abound and are cheap just when you need them.
If you don’t try this easy and healthy summer treat, then you are really missing something very special.
August 14th, 2008
Three days now of sun… could this be summer?
This is anything but a brag shot situation, because the weeks of rain have left so many damages and weeds, I had to really hunt for shots that I could gulp and show, but having gone out with camera as well as tools, this is what there is.
That’s how you just came into the garden and onto the terrace. I am calling the part on the right “Mint Madness” this year.
Look who’s peeking down at us from on high. It’s the gufo, otherwise known as Tilda.
She has re-entered the kitchen at least twice now by climbing this rose. She won’t come out now because Bear is there and she trusts no cat.
If we look across the terrace and squint a bit, we can see a sea of hemerocallis just starting to toss flowers at us.
We would go down there using these stairs if the roses hadn’t completely closed them off.
A few of the potted things really need to be pulled out to share some of the sun.
And when we go inside we find Tilda has found amusement in picking cherries up by their stems through the net covering the flat. Once they were opened, she tossed them onto the floor and chased them for a bit. I found and washed all of them, except the two I later stepped on. I thought Guinness might be interested in a cat that doesn’t like chicken but likes cherries, but I suppose all cats like to chase cherries.
June 21st, 2008
NB: I had to change the name of the dessert because I copied myself.
What did we eat? I’ve not forgotten! Yummy foods from the South — or in Italian il Meridionale.
Antipasto was burrata, which may be the single most luxurious cheese made in any country. A firm exterior of mozzarella di bufala surrounds a center packed with fresh cream. How could that be bad? It was sliced and drizzled with a little oil and sprinkled with fine chiffonade of fresh basil leaves.
The primo was Pepata di Cozze con tagliatelle
, and this is when I discover that Alberta does not eat mussels. But you should because they are delicious, cheap and good for you. Buy farmed ones if you aren’t positive that the wild ones come from clean waters.
The secondo was Agnello con Piselli, or lamb with peas. I promise you that unless you have eaten this in southern Italy, it is nothing like you expect. It’s very good, too. Unfortunately for Alberta, she also doesn’t eat lamb.
Dolce was Crostata della stagione, named by me to reflect that the torte is made the same every time, but then you pile on the fruit of the season. This time it was strawberries, and quite nice ones, in spite of the cool and cloudy days we’re experiencing.
Agnello con piselli
Lamb with peas
Ingredients for 4
I onion
80 g pancetta in small cubes
800 g pieces of lamb, cubes
500 g frozen or shelled fresh peas
salt
1 coffee cup of hot broth– about 3 ounces
a large handful of grated Pecorino (or Parmigiano Reggiano) cheese, about 1 ounce
2 eggs
1 tablespoon grated Pecorino cheese
pepper
Method:
Thinly slice the onion and gently brown it with the little cubes of pancetta. When it is well browned, add the lamb and continue to brown well. Add the peas and the cup of boiling broth, correcting the salt and pepper. Cover it and leave it to cook. When it is cooked to your taste, which for us took about 35 minutes, add the two beaten eggs, which will have been beaten with a tablespoon of grated pecorino. Stir it in to thicken the sauce and then serve immediately.
To make it easier to time the courses of the meal, we cooked this to almost done then removed it from the heat. When the first course was over, we brought it back to a simmer, stirred in the cheese and then the eggs and finished it. It would easily have served six of us in this multi course meal.
Corstata della Stagione
for six people
Pasta Brisee for one torta
80 - 100 g of fresh, soft goat cheese
the finely grated rind of a lemon
1 tablespoon sugar
about 400 g of prepared fresh fruit
2 tablespoons sugar
First, make pasta brisee using any recipe you like. Here is a good recipe which you can half if you are making this crostata.
Pasta Brisee
2 1/2 cups (350 grams) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon (4 grams) salt
1 tablespoon (14 grams) granulated white sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) (226 grams) unsalted butter, chilled, and cut into 1 inch (2.54 cm) pieces
1/4 to 1/2 cup (60 - 120 ml) ice water
In a food processor, place the flour, salt, and sugar and process until combined. Add the butter and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal (about 15 seconds). Pour 1/4 cup (60 ml) water in a slow, steady stream, through the feed tube until the dough just holds together when pinched. Add remaining water, if necessary. Do not process more than 30 seconds.
Alternately, you can make a pile of the flour, salt and sugar on a work surface, then put the cut up butter in the center and using your fingers, mix it until it looks like coarse meal. Then add some of the water, kneading it in, adding only as much as it takes to form a ball, which you should wrap and chill for a few minutes before rolling it out to make the crostata shell.
Turn the dough out onto your work surface and gather it into a ball. Divide the dough into *two equal pieces, flatten each portion into a disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 minutes to one hour before using. This will chill the butter and allow the gluten in the flour to relax. At this point you can also freeze the dough for later use.
*unless you have halved the recipe as mentioned above.
For each disk of pastry, on a lightly floured surface, roll out the pastry to fit into a 8 or 9 inch (20 to 23 cm) tart pan. To prevent the pastry from sticking to the counter and to ensure uniform thickness, keep lifting up and turning the pastry a quarter turn as you roll (always roll from the center of the pastry outwards to get uniform thickness). To make sure it is the right size, take your tart pan, flip it over, and place it on the rolled out pastry. The pastry should be about an inch larger than your pan.
When the pastry is rolled to the desired size, lightly roll pastry around your rolling pin, dusting off any excess flour as you roll. Unroll onto the top of your tart pan. Never pull the pastry or you will get shrinkage (shrinkage is caused by too much pulling of the pastry when placing it in the pan). Gently lay in pan and with a small floured piece of pastry, lightly press pastry into bottom and up sides of pan. Roll your rolling pin over top of pan to get rid of excess pastry. With a thumb up movement, again press dough into pan. Roll rolling pin over top again to get rid of any extra pastry. Prick bottom of dough (this will prevent the dough from puffing up as it bakes). Cover and refrigerate for 20 minutes to chill the butter and to rest the gluten.
To pre-bake the shell: Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (205 degrees C) and place rack in center of oven. Line the unbaked pastry shell with parchment paper or aluminum foil. Fill tart pan with pie weights or beans. I use beans and I keep them in the pantry wrapped in the foil I re-use many times. Bake crust for 20 to 25 minutes or until the crust is dry and lightly browned. Remove weights and cool crust on wire rack.
While the crust is still warm, spread the goat cheese over the bottom of it with a silicon spatula, being gentle, then grate the lemon rind over it, and then sprinkle the first tablespoon of sugar over that.
Arrange the clean and prepared fruit to cover the crostata completely. That means pit and half plums, peel, pit and slice peaches, etc. Berries just need to be clean and possibly hulled. Sprinkle the 2 tablespoons of sugar over the fruit.
You may want to serve this with lightly whipped and lightly sweetened cream, or you can make a pool of cream or sour cream on the plate and serve the slice of crostata on top of that. We garnished it with mint sprigs from my garden.
I personally could have eaten this entire crostata by myself. Only the fact that I liked the student and I need to lose weight prevented that happening. It is a very good thing that I have no fresh fruit in the house at the moment, because I could otherwise whip this up again in no time flat!
June 2nd, 2008
This is a recipe that came together so fast and was eaten so instantly I could almost forget I made it up. The very first version was everything I wanted or expected it to be. That’s something of a record for me in baking. My worst grade in high school was chemistry. This, however, is a success. Not too sweet, fluffy, not overly rich or fatty—in fact most of the weight is in fruit. It should serve six easily or eight with cheese or ice cream and any Italian would like it for breakfast, too.
I took it around to seven various neighbors and they all agree: this is really good. The fact that it is really easy and designed to be made by anyone with an oven, even if they have never made a cake before, is just garnish. It started with yellow plums I froze last summer when they were so good and so everywhere you hardly knew what to do. I made a bit of syrup for them, so they’d come out as nice as they went in. I usually don’t, but they do stay prettier if you do. I thawed them about half way so I could taste them and see what I had to work with. They were firm, tart and very juicy, all good characteristics to work with.
Here’s what you need:
An 8” or 20 cm round shallow pan that can go into the oven—I used a cake tin
A moderate sized bowl
A 1/3 cup measure
A liquid measuring cup
Two table knives
A fork
A teaspoon
An oven set at 425°F or 220°C
Here are the ingredients:
1 cup of plain flour (3 scoops with that 1/3 cup measure)
1/3 cup sugar
1 pinch salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
a pinch of ground nutmeg
1/3 cup butter
½ cup of the juices of the plums
1 egg
About 14 plum halves
A little sugar
Butter really well the bottom and sides of the baking dish you plan to cook this in.
Put the flour, sugar, spices, baking powder and salt into the bowl and mix them up a bit. Add the butter, cut into pieces, and using the two knives, cut the butter into the dry stuff until it’s incorporated and looks mealy. You can also do that in the food processor, but it’s not in my list above.
Break the egg into the liquid measure and add the plum juice. Use the fork to mix it up well. Dump it onto the dry stuff and use the fork to stir it just enough so that it’s wet. It may still look lumpy and that’s okay. Then scrape it all into the baking dish and arrange the plums on top so that they look nice. Sprinkle a little sugar over the plums. Put it into the oven and cook it for about 30 minutes. Stick a toothpick in the center and if it comes out clean, it’s done, if not, give it another 5 minutes.
Let this sit 10 minutes before turning it onto a cooling rack. The juice cooks into a syrup and clings at first, but after a few minutes it releases the bottom. You can make this, wash the dishes, cool it a bit and serve it all in such a short time…
This is nice warm and I would have loved some Fior di Latte gelato or some vanilla ice cream with it. I thought of sieving powdered sugar over it, but the plums were so jewel-like I couldn’t bear to do it.
If you make it with fresh plums, use milk in the place of the juices. Or try it with any fruit that’s hanging around, fresh or frozen. Maybe cherries? Peaches?
March 29th, 2008
The other day I was discussing the many traditional Carnevale and Lenten sweets that people make around me. I think they are supposed to quit making them once Lent starts, but they don’t. You almost can’t walk into a home this time of year without the perfume of hot oil and sugar winding around you and wrapping you up for the fat farm.
Everybody is making them and posting about them except me. I am cajoled and teased and blackmailed into tasting them constantly and I can’t bear to have them at home as well. I’m asking around for someone who is willing to be followed and photographed so I can publish it for you, but if you look around the blogging world for Cenci, Castagnole, Fiochi, Chiaccherare, and the hundreds of other words used to describe the hundreds of versions up and down the boot, you will definitely find them.
I remembered then that I loved a seasonal sweet traditional to my culture. The mighty Hot Cross Bun! I was immediately told that it is not the season until Good Friday. Uh! Something that good eaten only three days of the year? Not in my world! I decided that if I didn’t put the frosting crosses on until Good Friday I could have them right away and even take them to my hosts this weekend for an easy breakfast.
I looked at loads of recipes on line and in old cookbooks. The cookbook recipes were way too simplified for me. They wouldn’t produce what I remembered from decades ago. Delia of British fame has a good looking recipe, but my scale is broken so I needed a US recipe that doesn’t need weighing.
The recipe I used in the end was from Bella Online where they also have the nursery rhyme and the story behind this old fashioned sweet roll. If you agree that mine are prettier than theirs, it’s because I added an egg yolk wash before raising the formed buns. I think mine are a bit too big, too. I would make 16 of them from this recipe instead of 12.
The above is how they look in the very welcome sunshine that is pouring over my counters today. I have already eaten two and given one to Olga. We are agreed that these are the best we’ve ever had– mind you she’s never had them before.
February 7th, 2008
I am not a pastry chef. I like savory foods better and I dedicate my time to working on them, rather than dessert. There comes a time for all of us when we want to make a great dessert without using kitchen resources or a lot of time.
I’ve been working on exactly that: desserts that look and taste great, but are no trouble at all. This is the first that’s ready to show you. I don’t even have a name for it and I am open to suggestions from you, because that certainly worked with the “Phone Home” expat cookies.
This cake is made out of things you can buy and keep around the house, if you have to. If not, you can probably get them together with little effort. You don’t have to buy my version of the ingredients, but I’m sure you can get a suitable alternative near you. It’s not really cooking, but more assembly.
The finished cake you see today is not as pretty as the one I started with last summer for two reasons. I’d had the whipping cream stored in the freezer for months and for some reason it just wouldn’t whip stiffly. In the summer I used two packages of fresh raspberries and covered the top completely with them in concentric circles. For the winter version, I bought late summer raspberries, froze them separately and then bagged them. They wept as they thawed. One person really liked that effect, but I liked the original non-weepy cake better.
You need:
Sponge cake layers. The original cake was made of packaged layers that come in threes and are wider than this cake. If I were somewhere else, I could have ordered them from a grocery store with a bakery, from a bakery or made them myself, and any of them could be kept wrapped in the freezer. With these normal 9” layers, I used a bread knife to split them into four thinner layers. They were a little too fresh, really. They cut poorly and I was able to use less liqueur, because they would have shattered and slid apart if I’d generously dampened them.
Raspberry liquor of some kind. I looked for a French white raspberry eau de vie, and there was none, so the vintner convinced me to try raspberry grappa and it was fabulous. It was just grappa poured over raspberries in a bottle, and the berries gave up their perfume and a slight pinkish tinge.
Raspberry jam. There was only one brand in my shop and fortunately it was good.
Chocolate mousse mix. You can see what I used. That’s it here. As instant things go, it’s pretty good.
A pint of whipping cream and a little sugar.
Raspberries.
Make the mousse according to directions. You don’t cook it, you just whip it. Stick it in the fridge to firm up. You could get this far a day ahead.
Put the first layer on a large plate that will hold it. Sprinkle it with raspberry liquor, generously if you have the drier layers. Spread the jam sparingly over the cake, covering it, but not thickly at all. This is important.
Spread a light covering of mousse over the jam. Keep doing this in series until the top layer goes on and that one you just sprinkle with liquor. Spear the cake with three long skewers to stabilize it and put it in the fridge. This is when you’ll be happy you weren’t excessive with the jam and mousse, because if you had been, the layers would be so unstable that you’d never get it to stand on it’s own.
Just before serving time, whip the cream, being stingy with the sugar so the pronounced flavor will be cream and not sweet. There’s enough sweet in there already. Arrange the raspberries on top, and serve.
Look! Matching hostess.
If I use the drier bought layers, it serves 12 to 16 people, easily. With four smaller layers, it serves 10 to 12 people. Although there’s just as much cake each way, the very tall one just can’t be cut into narrow slices.
My favorite dog likes this too, in a virtual way, because although I sent him a generous piece, he never got it.
The two pictures of the finished cake were shot by Barb of Barb and Art Live in Italy.
December 9th, 2007
When I woke up and climbed the stairs this morning to make coffee, look who was looking into the window. Remember her? At first I thought she was blooming there to give me a little summery pleasure. Then I went outside and I realized she was trying to get in.
Day dawned with a really hard frost. I tried to dress for it as I prepared to go to the Pugliese fruit and vegetable vendors. They are only at market on Saturday, so it’s buy today or eat supermarket produce. Our supermarkets sell good food, but not as good as this produce that trucks up from Foggia every week. Only Monday I bought Italian white grapes at the Coop, but they were only juicy and sweet. There was nothing about them that shouts grape like the ones grown in Puglia under nets.
Anyway, I’ve decided that this is a budget tip. Shop outside when it’s cold and blowy and you won’t hang around photographing fashions or dawdling through the streets being tempted to buy ridiculous things you really don’t need.
Here’s what we’ll cook this week. It cost €8.80, or about US$13.20.
There are four small artichokes called violetta. Nice name for an artichoke, no? There’s a nice head of romaine or insalata romana. The white grapes I like fill a colander, and there’s an entire tray of tiny new spinach. Those tiny tomatoes will pop up now and again whenever wanted.
Before I left I checked the pasta shelf, where I seal up opened pasta. The unopened pasta occupies a very large space in my pantry armoire. That little chest holds the spices not used in Italian cookery, and it isn’t Italian, either. What’s this?
Gasp! There are two empty jars and the others are close to empty too. I haven’t even made pasta for Presto Pasta Night in two weeks. Polenta, yes, pasta no. What kind of Italian cook doesn’t make pasta? My face is red.
I rushed back from market, abandoning all foolish pastimes, to where it may be a cool 18°C but there’s a radiator to embrace. Later tonight there will be chow. Ciao!
December 1st, 2007
I read somewhere on the internet that cranberry/grappa jelly was the hot new dish for Thanksgiving this year. Who wouldn’t want to make the hot new dish of the year? It’s from Gourmet magazine, too, so there you go.
Three years ago, eg brought me two bags of cranberries in her luggage. They have sat, triple-bagged, in my freezer since then, because like the story of the pig you wouldn’t want to eat all at once, I couldn’t bear for them to just go away. But for the hot new dish of 2007, I figured let’s do it! Those of you who don’t live here will think how silly we are to miss something most people eat once a year and many people deride as not real food. I love cranberries.
The original recipe is fairly straight forward but a little messy with a lot of straining and pressing to get the skins and seeds free of the juices. Note that not only does it star the elusive cranberry, but also granulated gelatin, which doesn’t exist here, as far as I have ever been able to tell.
Italian gelatin is evocatively named “fish glue.” Yum. It comes in transparent sheets or leaves in envelopes. I made a strawberry Bavarian some years back using fish glue and it didn’t jell. I didn’t know how much fish glue to use to replace granulated gelatin nor did anyone I asked.
But I am nothing if not determined when it comes to my cranberries. The package says that the enclosed leaves will jell 500 milliliters of liquid. I started adding up the liquids in the recipe, converting the number to milliliters and voila! It needed more than eleven sheets of gelatin. Whoa, said I, but I soaked twelve sheets in cold water. And you know what? It’s only a few hours later and it’s jelled. Hunh.
So here is the recipe for Cranberries Expatriated. Only the translation is mine.
Get 20 ounces of cranberries, frozen or fresh — or use lingonberries instead if that’s what you can find.
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups cold water
3/4 cup grappa
Remember that 250 milliliters is one cup, or close enough.
In a large pan, put those ingredients and bring them to a boil. Allow them to boil briskly, popping and eventually thickening, then remove that from the flame. Gradually pass all of it through the finest screen of a food mill. This is much cleaner than a China cap and kitchen towels, believe me.
You can soak 10 sheets of fish glue in cold water to cover while that’s cooking.
1/4 cup water
the soaked gelatin
1 cup of the juice you have now milled.
Put those into the same, now empty pan and bring it to a simmer, stirring. As soon as it is all melted and wonderful, remove it from the heat, and stir in 1.5 more cups of the juice and 1/2 cup of grappa. Oil a mold that holds at least 3 cups and pour the mixture into it. As soon as it is room temperature, put it in the fridge to chill until the next day.
To unmold it, run a sharp knife along the edges of the jelly in the mold. Dip the mold into a deep bowl of warm water for a few seconds and then turn it out onto a plate
I had a lot of leftover cranberry juice, so I put it into a jar in the fridge. I feel cranberry other things coming on. I will try to photograph this beauty (we can hope) tomorrow and add the photo when I get back from Massa Martana. And now, happy Thanksgiving to all the celebrators of same.
NB I have changed the number of leaves of fish glue, because it was too jelled.
November 22nd, 2007
Three cheers for Smitten Kitchen. Go have a look at her apple tart post, which is absolutely terrific. It’s accessible to amateurs and beginners, and different enough to appeal to veterans.
November 9th, 2007
Saturday I went to town, both for the market and because I needed to pry myself from my mousehole, to which I had become far too adapted when I wasn’t feeling so well. I lost an entire size in a week! I don’t recommend the method, however. Still, when my jeans wouldn’t stay where I put them, and I pulled out that tight, black pair and zipped them on, it was pretty interesting from my point of view.
Everybody was bundled up. Except me. It was cool and I was wearing this knit jacket, but they were wearing down jackets, all black but one. 
As the day wore on it got hot, but they only unzipped their jackets. Why do Italians feel the cold so much?
I visited friends here and there. I made an appointment and got a haircut. I lunched on ravioli ai porcini and it was splendid, the simplest rendition I have ever had and my favorite waitress in the world was right to recommend not using the cheese on it. I only ate half, so she proposed next time she’d give me a half portion. Oh, and they’ve added flavored ciabatte to the bread basket, which is a brilliant move in a place where the local bread is salt free! They make it in house, too, and the onion one was great. I drank my first glass of wine in over a week. Good.
The haircut is good as usual, but figlio Andrea was given the styling and made it so crazy I rinsed my hair when I got home. What gets into those two kids? Sister does that too, although Mata at least uses something flexible rather than what seems to be Elmer’s Glue-all. That family is one of the best things in Italy. Mum offered me homemade pastry as well as an espresso. I wish I could have eaten it.
So, I returned home with two tiny artichokes, a kilo of Pugliese tomatoes (in spite of Jeffo’s objections, they still truck them up here from Foggia,) a big bunch of white grapes that make my lips curl up into a smile, and two very small eggplant/aubergine. And 4 belts, all looking as if they might have come off Marc Jacobs’ runway, given me by a woman in Patrizia’s shop because I was the only one they fit. Three years ago I searched all over for a 24″ belt and never found a one. Now I have four, all in shades of red, red/brown and ranging from glazed leather to suede. The buckles are very nice indeed.
I need to get out more.
October 29th, 2007
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