Preservation of Produce: Blackberry Coulis

Our single blackberry bush already has given us ten litres and is still going as there's no tomorrow. I suspect there's another ten litres in its future.

Our cultivar is thornless which makes harvesting a cinch.

Though consistently watered and pruned, I yet have fertilised it in the ten years we have been here. I am not sure if I ever want to as its largesse is already a challenge to keep on top of via processing. Pruning is a simple job of keeping the new canes which spring up during summer not much longer than ninety centimetres (three feet) and its lateral branches approximately thirty centimetres (one foot) in length. After all the berries are picked, then the canes that sprung up last summer and carried the present harvest will be clipped off at ground level. In the below photo, the new cane on the left which will bear fruit next season has been trimmed; the older cane, once all its berries have been plucked, will be removed completely.

A ripe berry will have plump, individual drupelets. If they ripen too much, their fibrous centres will be replaced with juice which can be seen oozing among the drupelets. The juice can become slightly fermented; when popping one such berry into your mouth, it's like taking a tiny sip of blackberry wine.

A Foley mill made short order of all those berries.

Icing sugar was added to the sieved, mashed, fresh berries, better known as coulis, until it reached the desired sweetness which isn't too much as additional sweetening can be added if desired. It is the uncooked state of the fruit that gives such a burst of flavour as contrasted to a puree which is sieved, mashed, cooked fruit.

Those ten litres of blackberries became three litres of coulis. Besides ladling it into variously sized containers, ice cube trays were filled also. Once frozen, the cubes were placed into a ziplock bag. The luscious coulis, once defrosted or if your mixer is powerful enough, throw in a few blackberry ice cubes instead, is used in smoothies (the one below has yogurt, water, coulis, maple syrup, and powdered ginger) . . .

. . . and parfaits (the one below has a layer of yogurt and one of creme fraiche, two of coulis, and a topping of yogurt marbled with coulis sprinkled with icing sugar) . . .

. . . not to mention a dessert sauce, as in the below photo, smothering coffee ice cream. Coulis can drench cake/muffins, fill doughnuts/hand pies/cake rolls, and made into blackberry butter (reduce either over a low flame or in an oven until very thick). Versatility, thy name is blackberry coulis.

À la prochaine!

Early Summer Garden 2019

Though the weather is cooler than the recent Official Canicule (heat wave), it's still HOT. Therefore I am watering the garden daily in the early morning and seeking refuge under the pergola along with a hanging basket of multi-hued lobelia or in our house. Your house you say? Yes, it stays cool because of our keeping to the recommended protocol for stone houses: keep both shutters and windows closed during the day but at night while keeping the shutters closed, open the windows.

The delicate blooms of lobelia present themselves as a flurry of stars or fireflies or dust motes in a sun beam depending upon flights of imagination. They flutter overhead as we recline in lounge chairs made even more cushiony with throw pillows. That basket was gifted to me more a quarter of century ago, tagged along with us from country to country, until this spring when I noted there was a suitable hook already securely fixed to one of the pergola overhead beams which jogged my memory of the basket, now covered with cobwebs in the sous sol and sans the original chains. I went ahead and sowed shade-loving lobelia indoors late winter thinking I could make do with cord instead of chains. The material I used broke, the rope The Calm One then strung up didn't, but he thought that it would eventually break so he trotted off to the local DIY place and got some chains. It was worth every bit of trouble as it is just sublime to see.

After preparing a bed for sowing carrots, I rushed to the pergola for some relief, removing my hat to let the breeze have its way with my hair, and sipped some iced coffee.

Across the way, sitting on the uncovered part of the patio, is a pot of black-eyed Susan vine (Thunbergia alata) and a bordeaux-red ivy geranium which is waiting to be placed out in the front garden when it has filled out enough.

Down the central path, on the right, is the sprawling blackberry bush. It needed to be staked and now the berries are no longer brushing the grass so they won't rot or get mowed down before I can pick them. I see a blackberry roly poly⁠—shortcake dough brushed with butter and spread with sugared berries, rolled up, topped with more berries, baked, and served with whipped cream⁠—in its future.

The strawberry patch has slowed down considerably but is still putting out a dessert bowl of berries weekly.

Daylilies are called that because each bloom lasts just a day, but look at the number of buds! This variety's name is El Desperado. It has golden yellow flowers with a burgundy centre and edge.

Another daylily, a potted Stella de Oro which is a reblooming variety, is keeping an equally golden Thunbergia alata company on a double sous sol window sill. It's good they both can take on a full frontal sun, because that window faces south. The tuteur is one of the old dried seed pods stuck on sticks that we found stored in a wood cupboard under the indoors barbecue. If that hanging basket can be brought to life, so can these sticks!

The hydrangea on the other hand is tucked in the front garden which faces north. It's just as happy as its sun-loving peers. I appreciate that aspect of gardening so much, that is, finding the right place so each plant can thrive.

Another golden sun worshiper is this rose.

À la prochaine!

Heat Wave Smoothie!

Temperatures are staying high, around 40 degrees C/100 degrees F. Thank goodness for thick stone walls, terracotta roofing tiles, and window shutters. Daily watering is required so the potager behind the house gets drenched in the mornings and the front/side gardens are soaked in the evening. Hand watering is opted instead of sprinklers because there is less wastage plus I can determine which plant needs how much. Calla lilies and fruiting stock receive a lot. Lavender and Rose of Sharon are drought-resistant so not a drop for them.

Iris foliage, potato, and tomato beds

Blackberries are ripening. Enough were harvested to make a smoothie!

Making a bee-line for the cool sous-sol, I passed one of the ivy-covered pillars supporting the pergola and noted this golden leaf amidst the green. Though lovely, it could be a sign of heat stress.

Like many in our quartier, I remain in the house during the rise of sweltering heat as the day unfolds. It's a good 10 degrees cooler there, and in the sous-sol, even more. But still, much better not to turn on the oven or use the stove if possible. Using a stick-mixer, I blended the blackberries picked earlier along with almond meal, a very ripe banana, lemon juice, yogurt, and some ice-cold water. The mixture was sieved and then quaffed down.

In the late evening, I ventured out to water the front and side gardens. Besides hauling hoses and watering cans, I needed to take care of a trembling house sparrow fledgling that was on the hot concrete path underneath the eaves where many nests are tucked away. Sliding a paper towel under the fluffy one, I took it to a shady spot to check for injuries (since birds have no sense of smell, the parents will never know that I touched their offspring). As far as I could make out, its wings could spread out to flutter, and its feet were in working order. The trembling had stopped. It was then carried over to some bushes near its suspected nest and placed under them. Hopefully everything worked out for that avian family. House sparrows have around four clutches in succession during the season which keeps the Mom occupied at home. Hence it usually is the Dad who brings food to the little ones on the ground while they strengthen their wings by flapping them and hopping about. And the heat is a stressor for them so keep those bird baths full, clean, and cool (freeze water in a bowl, place in bath, and as the ice melts, it refills and freshens).

Rock, lavender, Shasta daisies, abelia, and purple plum tree

A pot of dahlias is starting to put out blooms. Several months ago, once the weather was warm enough, two tubers were place in a medium-sized pot filled halfway with loosely packed potting mix which was kept slightly moist since they easily rot. As stems shot up, more mix was added.

Where there are flowers, there are pollinators.

The garden on the west side of the house, and where the baby sparrow was put, boasts of a nice clump of daylilies.

They put out many stems with a lot of buds. Each flower lasts just a day, hence their name.

One more bloom to go!

The Desperado variety wows. I love the delicate, maroon edging.

À la prochaine!

Spider bite? Ice packs and a Blackberry Parfait please!

This past Sunday evening marked the first time I experienced a spider sinking its fangs and releasing venom into me. It hurt tremendously at the moment of my foot being bitten. Oh why oh why did I forsake socks that day! My yelp of pain woke up Dirac the Cat who was napping on the pergola roof under which I was sitting. First his ambling steps could be heard. Then his face peeked down over the edge. He was reassured that if I died, The Calm One would feed him. Then the real fun began. The swelling intensified so that within an hour my foot resembled a blooming flower, huge, floppy, pink, but not pretty like its nearby counterparts. Blackberries got picked shortly after the incident when I was under the misconception that the perpetrator of my injury was a wasp. They remained in the fridge while I researched insect bites. Frequent ice packs and rest lessened the pain and puffiness within two days. When noticing today the sleek, shining berries, I mused a parfait could take the focus off the woeful condition of my flipper-like appendage. And if one parfait didn't do the trick, then a second might.

Topped with vanilla ice cream

To fill a 250 ml/8 fluid ounce glass, take several large handfuls of blackberries, put them in a fine-mesh sieve, and rinse. Reserve ten of the plumpest and most ripe of the berries (more if they are on the smallish side).

Our thornless bush so far has given us around 3 litres of jumbo berries!

Place the sieve over a bowl and squash the berries with your hands (ensure they are clean, including their nails!). Finish the extraction with a fork, remembering to use an utensil other than the mashing fork when scraping the outside of the strainer to prevent getting seeds into the sieved coulis.

Add powdered sugar to taste, whisk till smooth, and set aside. Mine was fairly sweet to offset the unsweetened whipped cream.

Combine one heaping tablespoon of crème fraîche with six tablespoons heavy cream in a tall container. Slosh some vanilla extract (1/4 to 1/2 tsp) and whip with an electric stick-mixer's balloon whisk until soft peaks form.

Start with a layer of whipped cream and follow with a half of the berries. Douse with several tablespoons of the coulis. Repeat with some more whipped cream, ending with the rest of the fruit and coulis. Top with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream and a spearmint sprig. Any surplus coulis can be frozen or served on the side with the parfait.

The delicate tops of our potted spearmint are kept available for garnishing in a small vase (originally a vanilla extract bottle) of water.

Such a garnish delights the eye while its glacial fragrance gives the nose a whiff of the refreshing treat to follow. The dollop of ice cream furthers this sensual preparation for the heady burst of flavour from the juicy berries, syrupy coulis, and airy, slightly sour whipped cream.

Happy to say, I was a completely compliant patient.

This is the patio chair which concealed the spider! It and three others are now thoroughly clean and spider-free.

À la prochaine!

Our Potager at the End of a Very Busy May

As a grower of fresh produce, I never know if weather conditions will allow getting into the ground soon enough what I planned to do way back in the quiet of winter.

Pods for sure, but half of the patch is still at the flowering stage

Peas and new potatoes need to be planted early in the season which would be around late February/early March in southwest France. Their maturity takes about three months from sowing and requires cool temperatures, especially les petit pois. This season they were introduced into their soil home in April which means end-of-June harvesting. Hopefully there won't be a canicule (heat-wave) occurring before then!

Flowers usually signal potato harvesting is close; no blooms yet for this Artemis variety

The tomato seedlings were developed enough for planting in mid-April but various cold snaps prevented that from happening. Instead of being too frustrated, I took comfort from the French version of the European traditional rule-of-thumb, that is, les saintes de glace, which govern when outdoor spring planting is safe from cold temperatures. There is an ice saint for each of three days in mid-May, but the really big shot is St. Urbain (link in French) who is the final arbiter. Since his day falls on May 25, I tell myself that it is perfectly OK that the tomatoes went in just today.

The bed was staked shortly after

Shallots were planted for the first time. What an engaging grouping of perky green tufts!

These delicious & versatile aromatics are fantastic culinary additions

Since annual vegetables can be so challenging in terms of planting deadlines, perennial edibles are a welcome relief.

Blackberries are beginning to fruit

This winter our small peach tree (pruned to keep it manageable) was sprayed* for the first time with Bordeaux mixture to combat a very persistent case of leaf curl (caused by the fungus Taphrina deformans). Then after leafing out, it was sprayed with a different product to vanquish the ever ingenious blackfly (the sometimes winged black aphid). Ants love their sticky excretions so much that they protect the aphids from predators.

Not many peaches, but they are all clean of insect goo

In the flower garden, peonies are shaking out their ruffled, deep-pink petals.

Lavender in the background

The David Austin climbing rose, Falstaff, is showing off its deeply fragrant, quartered, crimson-touched-with-purple blooms in cascades.

Mixing with the scent of the bi-coloured Bourbon rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is the perfume of entwining honeysuckle.

Taking a break from tomato planting could not be better spent than being ensconced under the pergola flanked by these flowers which regale both the eyes and the nose. 

À la prochaine!

*Spraying is done on windless, dry days via an applicator filled with the right dilution of the appropriate product. 

Spiced Blackberry Lassi

Muggy and hot. Hot and muggy. And some. The blackberries are coming in so it's high time to lasso a lassi. This one is inspired by the Punjabi style of topping with makhan though I used a mixture of yogurt and cream instead.

Gorgeous colour! And taste!

For a tall glass, mix together one heaping tablespoon of yogurt and one tablespoon of cream. Put in the freezer while the lassi is being made. Puree a handful or so of berries with eight ounces/237 ml of yogurt (I use a handheld mixer and the tall cylindrical container that came with it). Add about a tablespoon or so of sugar and large pinches of powered cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Blend until smooth. Pour into a fine sieve and work the liquid through using a wooden spoon, leaving the seeds behind. Add ice cubes if desired, spoon the yogurt-cream mixture on top, and sprinkle some cinnamon.

Our blackberry bushes have no thorns and fruit nearly the size of small plums

In the potager, about three-quarters of the onion crop have toppled over indicating that their bulbs will not increase further in size...

Those are Delice de la Table (a cantaloupe variety) in front of the onions

...hence they were harvested...

...to start their curing in the shade under the pergola.

In the herb garden, the basil is close to flowering necessitating the rooting of some cuttings in water which takes about a week...

Flowering causes the foliage to taste bitter

...and transplanting them into pots so there will be plenty to go with the tomatoes when they ripen in a few weeks.

The new transplants will get pinched also to make yet more plants

Our Rose of Sharon bushes are strutting their stuff in the flower garden and will continue to do so through the heat of the summer.

Dirac the Young Cat finds delight in everything.

He loves the old pear tree

He also loves to scramble down when he spots something more interesting on the ground

À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

Chilled summer-berry lasagne
Caramelised blackberry ice cream sundae