Lemon Tart

Seed Saving: Fresh Fruit Syrups

Who knew something as humble and simple as fruit syrups could be the thing to finally get me out of my blogging slump? Sometimes its the simple things that enthuse me the most and a technique like this is one that represents my approach to food and produce specifically : Buy it beautiful, eat it fresh and don't waste any of the good stuff when its plentiful in season. That means pits, scraps and anything remaining of the fruit itself.

I've been making these fresh fruit syrups for years inspired by a raspberry syrup in one of my most formative cookbooks, Alice Waters', Chez Panisse: Fruit. With frequent forays into sorbets, ice creams and fruit purees I often find myself with leftover seeds and pulp heaped in my strainer, my forearm aching from pushing the bright purees through the fine mesh sieve. What is left is not very desirable but still has lots of its fruit flavour. An apartment dweller I cannot brag of my overgrown raspberry bushes of which I am unable to keep up with picking, so the prized berries I get my hands on are treated with the utmost respect.

The technique here is a simple one. Boil fruit scraps in water to extract flavour, strain, add sugar, boil again and store. What you are left with is a beautiful flavourful nectar that can be combined with sparkling or still water for a refreshing drink but beyond that are a multitude of uses:

• Make extra special lemonade by mixing equal parts lemon juice, syrup and water.
• Top with sparkling water for your own fruit spritzers.
• Make Champagne cocktails by topping a splash with sparkling wine.
• As a topping pancakes and waffles. 
• Over vanilla ice cream
• Add to your favourite cocktails, especially good to customize mojitos.
• As a sweetener for iced tea.

Ricotta Cheese : Make it Yourself!

Lean in close.... I'm going to tell you a secret, something dairy manufacturers haven't wanted you to know in a least a couple generations:  You can. Make cheese. 

In less time than a Glee episode, you can have full flavoured, dreamy, ricotta cheese ready for so many great dishes. It doesn't take any special equipment, and the only ingredient you'll need other than good milk is citric acid.

Raw milk laws in Canada mean the milk I  buy must be labelled not for human consumption and as a cosmetic product. I'm happy to "drink" my body lotion!

 At some point in the prepared food production system, someone convinced us that basic fresh cheese wasn't anything those of us without a cow  should be making ourselves. I've been making my own soft cheeses for awhile now, like ricotta, mozzarella and mascarpone, but the ricotta is the one that's got my dance card. A batch of this ethereal, dairy magic is heated, coagulated and strained in my humble kitchen about  every other week. In fact I look forward to the day my milk supply gets away from me. What certainly began as a preservation technique centuries ago prolongs my milk's life as well. But don't worry, this can be made with any milk you can get, raw or not.
      
 A container of this in the fridge means the most beautiful topping for homemade pizza,  a picture perfect appetizer slathered on toasted baguette with pesto and a sun dried tomato and a pound cake I can't keep myself my sneaking each time I pass the kitchen (coming soon!). Not to mention these textbook perfect calzones that make you salivate upon first sight. This cheese is lacking in gums, stabilizers and preservatives, so that milk flavour shines through humbly and perfectly.

 In my enthusiasm for what seems incredibly exciting for this modern 21st century food lover, I told my 94 Grandmother that I'd been making cheese. She nodded with a reserved sense of interest that comes from living a life that long, having seen it all. Then she told me that her mother used to make cheese. I nodded with interest, assuming what she was talking about was a simple fresh farmers cheese. She continued her story, to explain the process of curds being scooped into drained baskets and put aside to drain. And then they were left in a root cellar to dry. She was indeed speaking of the real thing, a country Tomme style cheese. I hadn't heard any accounts of having a cheesemaker in the family. Well in fact there weren't, not as profession. She was a seamstress but she lived on a farm and at the turn of the 20th century if you had a cow you had to do something to preserve that milk, so cheese was made. Simple as that. In this age of rock star food producers, of reverence for cheesemakers and bread bakers and sausage makers, its an important reminder indeed these foods we hold in such esteem now, were all born out of necessity, there was nothing glamorous or impressive about making your own Tomme in 1905, it was simply a way to feed your family through winter.
 
Making this simple ricotta cheese will remind you that many of the convenience foods we buy are not so much work to make ourself. The trade off of a little time is worth it for something this good.

Pear Butter with Vanilla and Lemon

I've been making this for a few years now. It came about rather naturally as a box of pears I had intended on canning became riper faster than I could deal with them. Since canning overripe pears simply turns them into mush, this pear butter was a natural addition to my pantry. If you are wondering why one would mix pears and butter and put it in a jar, I would probably say "why not?!" But in actuality there is no butter anywhere near this preserve. It's just the next step past sauce - a simmered mixture of fruit, sometimes flavourings, and a bit of sweetener, cooked until a spreadable consistency is achieved, which is where the butter name is obviously derived. It can be spread on your morning toast like jam or eaten by the spoonful. I love its absolute "pear-ness" in my oatmeal or slathered inside lacy crepes for dessert, doused with the appropriate caramel sauce or stirred into plain yogurt for a nice break from berry or vanilla flavoured.

While pear butters flavoured with spices are common, I think the strong spicy flavours of cinnamon, star anise, cardamom and cloves tend to cover the flavour of the pear up too much and I say keep those other spices for the apple butter. If you have beautifully fragrant, ripe pears I like to marry them with the comforting flavours of vanilla and lemon which accentuate rather than cover the natural flavour of the fruit.

While apple butter is probably the most common type of fruit butter due to its low moisture content and high pectin, which makes it cook to the desired thickness quicker, almost any fruit can be cooked to a butter stage. Pears are a natural candidate because of their already natural buttery texture, although their higher water content definatly makes them take a little more time and attention than apples.

This recipe first requires that you get your hands on at least 10 pounds of pears. Any less and its simply not worth the hours of stirring. Get yourself to a orchard, fruit stand or packing house in your area which still have pears in their storage, or have a friend going out of town pick them up for you, as I did. If that fails you, head to your farmers market. The key with this preserving stuff if to find it in season, plentiful and affordable.

 

Homemade (Raw Milk) Yoghurt

I have a cow. I've never met her, which is kinda sad actually, but she produces some pretty lovely milk. Once a week in a secret location we pick up the milk which is locked up in refrigerators in a dark out of the way spot in the middle of the city. No money changes hands for the milk itself, its simply a by product of our ownership of said cow.  Raw milk is what I'm talking about, which is illegal to sell. We own a share in the cow, but no milk is technically sold. These are quite extreme lengths to go through for milk, which is saying something for the number of people interested in this product. I'm sure you think I'm living on the edge with this raw milk thing. That's okay, while I won't be backpacking in Iraq or base jumping off a high rise anytime soon,  there's a few calculated risks I'm happy to take. And raw milk is so worth it!*

Apparently raw milk is the enemy to all human kind, these days, and often takes a beating in the press, depending on what kind of press I should say. I tend to tune most of it out, mostly because I have some fairly strong opinions about the subject, which you won't hear about here. I've always wanted this site to be a "positive" forum and I've chosen to keep food politics out of it. There's plenty of other places to find that online. However, these farmers have had to go through a lot to make sure our raw milk supply is still safe and available to those of us who want it, and I think they deserve credit for it. Not many of us would voluntarily stack themselves up against constant governmental scrutiny and public misunderstanding while trying to make a living providing a product that, looking at the amount of milk at the milk-depot, has significant demand.

I didn't grow up on a farm. The closest I got to farm animals would have been the dairy cows at D- Dutchmen Dairy or the IPE as a child. I didn't know much beyond 2% milk until well into adulthood, so  raw milk was certainly not something I was familiar to. Homogenized milk was simply "that gross stuff that Gramma drank" - she grew up on a farm, and knew something I wouldn't for years to come. I certainly wasn't accustomed to anything that tasted so decidedly of milk, and I really hated having a glass of milk with dinner, knowing early-on there were better things to drink with a meal - like wine!

This milk is just so lovely. The flavour is as milk should be - fresh, complex and sweet. With it in my fridge I've been enjoying an exciting foray into the world of homemade dairy products, including  yoghurt. Raw milk yoghurt is the most amazing yoghurt you can imagine and it reminds me of the beautiful artisanal yoghurts I've enjoyed in France. Spooning a full fat dairy product out of the cutest little glass bottles with a morning croissant, is pure joy. And until I began making my own, it was difficult to find any yoghurt at home that even came close to the flavour of those dairy dreams.

 

Make Your Own Vanilla Extract

I've been making my own vanilla extract for a few years now and have been thinking all year that its something that I should share with my readers, but sometimes I'll admit I like to keep some things to myself. Today is the day to share nicely. I'm not the first blogger to wax poetically about this process, but I'm also certain I won't be the last.

Since starting my batch about 3 years ago, I doubt I'll ever buy a bottle of it again. Its not to say that its better than store bought, but the site of the beans standing at attention in their ever changing brew makes me smile. I also love that in another very small way I've saved 100's of glass jars from being made and then recycled and then made again during the course of a lifetime.

So what exactly is vanilla extract anyways? Well, it's just a simple infusion. Fragrant, heady, aromatic vanilla beans (hopefully), are left to rest in a grain alcohol, which carries the essential oils and therefore flavour with it.  The good ones have a short list of ingredients. But you will come across extracts with added colourings, which along with bleached toilet paper, I don't really get, and sometimes sugar, added to enhance flavour. As long as the sugar is low on the ingredient list it's a fine addition, although you won't find it in the homemade version.  When you see corn syrup or propylene glycol or any other hard to pronounce words, I would suggest stepping away from the bottle. There's a lot of bad vanilla out there, and I'm not talking about artificial vanilla which at least is upfront about itself. If you've recently had someone bring a bottle back from Mexico, as most of us have, be a little skeptical, right after you thank them profusely for their thoughtful gift*. With weak regulations in the extract industry in  Mexico, its easy to end up with something that resembles vanilla while pretending to be the real thing. Although I must stress than not all vanilla bought in Mexico is a fake, but buyer beware.

Making your own vanilla is a fun, easy project that is a great idea for anyone with a source of good but not too pricey vanilla beans. If you live somewhere where your source for beans runs at $5 a bean, this is not the project for you. Best to to spend the money on some great quality extract, it'll be cheaper in the end. If you are lucky enough to get your hands on some discounted dried up beans, this is the perfect remedy for them. Another thing to remember when considering making your own extract is that the finished product will only be as good as the beans. Your vanilla beans should ideally still have a nice fragrant aroma and hopefully a little pliability and you should be confident that even if you get your hands on some dried up premium beans that they haven't sitting on a shelf for a year.

Thirsty Thursdays: Strawberry Verbena Cordial

I don't want you to think that the only beverages I make are the alcoholic variety, but it seems that recently drinks with a little somethin' somethin' in them is what I'm drawn to. I favour drinks with lots of fruit flavours and what better time to enjoy these than in the middle of the growing season. Today I was planning on sharing a very classic, very summery drink, completely void of the strong stuff. But then I spied what is likely the last of strawberries in my fridge and realized I hadn't made what has been part of my preserving line up for years- strawberry cordial. Almost in a panic I raced to my overstuffed liquor cabinet- its for the desserts I make I swear!- and was relieved to find just the right amount of vodka in there. So I got to work. For about 5 minutes. Yup, that's how long it takes to make this stuff. Well maybe 10 depending on how fast your hulling skills are.

For those of you out there who think preserving it something your Gramma did, or something your crazy foodie friends do, think again. This is preserving. It requires no cooking, no measuring and pretty much no skill. The only requirements are a couple pints of good strawberries, a mason jar, some vodka and a few minutes.

My version adds a sprig of lemon verbena, la verveine as the French call it, one of my favourite herbs. It adds a bit of almost grassy lemon flavour to the drink and goes lovely with strawberries. While you can absolutely leave this out, if you have a plant in your garden or know someone who does I encourage the addition. Otherwise basil also would be lovely.

Now I realize the only thing wrong with sharing this recipe with you today is that you won't actually be able to enjoy it for a few months. Which doesn't help your "thirst". And for that I'm sorry  I didn't document this last year to offer the finished product with you today. But I wanted to share with you the joy of making something yourself that  rewards your patience. In a few months, when all berries except cranberries are but a whisper of a memory, you'll be able to enjoy a tiny glass of highly flavoured strawberry cordial that will take you back to warm summer nights and bushels of summer fruit.

Dried Orange Peel

  I've always felt a tiny twinge of guilt whenever I juice a lemon or eat the flesh of an orange and throw away all the peel.  After all, the deepest flavour of a citrus fruit is in the rind, where all the essential oils lie waiting for you to brush your hand along or squeeze with your fingers.  When we make a lemon cake, its the peel that gives it the lemon flavour, not the juice. Lemon extract comes from the oil of the rind, as does limoncello and citrus vodkas. And while I do make an effort to candy peel once in awhile, which is  great way to deal with excess citrus, the truth is I do not like candied orange peel enough to eat it every day, which is what I'd have to do to keep up.  Since I don't plan on starting an orange peel candying business anytime soon, I've been trying to come up with other ways to use my excess of perfectly good orange peel around here.

During my time in the area around Nice, last year, I became familiar with Daube, a Provencal beef stew which gets its unique flavour, in part, by the addition of dried orange peel. The bouillabaisse of the region also is flavoured with dried orange.  This makes sense as citrus grow easily in the south of France and what better way to brighten something hearty and rich. 

Pistachio Raspberry Swirl Ice Cream

What a  pretty ice cream? I dare say, I do believe it is one of the prettiest I've ever seen. Beautiful jadite green with deep crimson tones. A nod to the pink and greens of spring to come, or a reminder of a recent Christmas.

This beautiful nod to complimentary colours and flavours is an original recipe I created out of necessity. I had a lovely bright green brick of pistachio paste  that had been neglected, as does happen to some of my food treasures. It had been sitting in my freezer begging me to do something with it. I'd been wanting to make pistachio ice cream for as long as I've had an ice cream maker. However, I've realized that good quality, fresh green pistachios are a difficult, well pretty much impossible, food to source where I live. So that beautiful green tinged, pistachio flavored dessert was going to have to wait until I could get those pistachios of my dreams. But while cleaning out my freezer it occurred to me that this would be the perfect use for this paste. Using paste rather than fresh nuts saves a lot of time roasting, skinning and pureeing.

Tea Soaked Prunes

Disclaimer: I realize now that prunes are not that photogenic. But I hope you'll stay long enough to perhaps give them a chance.

Last June I brought home 2 pounds of Agen prunes from France in my suitcase. That act itself tells a lot about the kind of traveler I am given the current luggage weight limitations of budget airlines these days. It probably also reveals a lot about my personality and my desire to have a memory of a place in the form of food. They were worth the effort, I must say.

Why these prunes, you might ask?  There is a town in southwestern France called Agen. The prunes grown here are so special they have an AOC designation. This is a French certification that governs a geographical area for a certain food product. Prunes grown here get to say "Pruneaux d'Agen" on their labels, which is similar to calling a wine a Sparkling Wine or Champagne. In southwest France you see piles of them in the markets all plump, shiny and inviting. On one occasion a couple years ago we had the pleasure of enjoying them wrapped in bacon and warmed in the oven, enjoyed with a pre dinner drink. In my opinion this is the single best preparation to change anyone's mind about prunes. I also enjoyed them as a dessert  in which they were poached in red wine and touch of citrus and served with those juices with ice cream. That dessert inspired me to try a classic French method of soaking them in tea.

 Belonging mostly in the health food category, we don't give prunes much thought in North America.  So much so, that its now becoming more common for them to be called dried plums. A little marketing genius if you ask me. I'll admit that until a couple years ago when I enjoyed prunes in France on several occasions, I've been a little lukewarm to them as well. But I've come around and now view them as a dried fruit worth my attention.