Tuesday, 16 July 2013

Chilled Summer-Berry Lasagne

Years ago, I came across a recipe for an old-fashioned sweet dish called summer pudding.  Though a fruit dessert not requiring oven use during les beaux jours was appealing, lining a bowl with ordinary white bread, no matter how wondrously soaked those slices would become with delicious berry juice, left me pondering how unattractive a soggy 'crust' sounds and how challenging it would be to unmould.


Fast forward to today, I discovered the trick is to use sturdy white bread, like a good bakery loaf of sourdough white, instead of mass-produced rectangles of mostly air.  Another is to depart from the classic form and do a more elegant layered presentation thereby obviating the need for a fragile bread shell.  Most importantly, this approach does not look as if you plopped a bowl over a bunch of lightly stewed fruit and gave it a hasty haircut!

Ingredients
(makes 3 individual four oz servings, but recipe can be doubled)

  • A mix of berries like blackberries, raspberries, black/red currants, blueberries, 1 quart (I used my garden's bounty: 1 cup* strawberries/raspberries, 1.5 cup* red currants, 1 cup* of blackberries, 1/2 cup* black currants).  If a coulis is desired, then toss in a couple more cups of berries and add sugar to taste)
  • Sugar, 3/8 cup*
  • Salt, coarse/kosher, a pinch
  • Bread, 9 slices, 1/4 inch thick (I used sourdough white)
  • Lemon juice, 1 T
  • Cream, heavy
  • Vanilla extract to flavour the cream if desired
  • Berries, whole for garnishing
  • Confectioner's sugar for dusting

*American measure, that is, 8 oz

The berry harvest chez nous is coming along nicely. This fruit laden lasagne along with a copious amount of coulis is a more pleasant way of using up a lot of fruit than my usual tending a cauldron filled with boiling jam.


If using strawberries, slice them 1/4 inch thick and put in a large skillet along with the sugar.  Stir over medium heat for about five minutes until the berries release their juice but are still intact and the sugar is dissolved.


Add the rest of the fruit and simmer for five minutes until there are loads of liquid.


Put the skillet contents into a suitably sized bowl, adding the lemon juice and salt.


Coarse salt has its uses

While the mixture is cooling, line three four-ounce ramekins with plastic wrap. If the sides of the mould are straight, bread circles of one size will suffice. However, use what you have available that will serve the purpose and adjust the diameter of the bread rounds if necessary.


Since bread comprises about one half of this pudding, choose really good, fresh bread. Using the bottom of the ramekin as a template, cut nine rounds, three for each ramekin.  If needed, and if the bread is soft enough you can just mush/piece together the right sized circle and still be able to dip it into the berry juices.

Checking to see if bread slices fit.  Crust was left on.

Using a measuring spoon, dole out two LEVEL (not heaping/rounded) tablespoons of the berries into the bottom of the ramekins. If required, remove berries/liquid from the measuring spoon.

Nearly finished ramekins, awaiting for the final slice of soaked bread

Completely permeate three bread slices/rounds with berry juice and place them in the three ramekins over the first layer of berries.


Repeat with two more layers -- berries, bread, berries, ending with the bread. The last slice needs to be above the top rim.


Place them on a plate, put a layer of plastic wrap over them, cover with another plate, and weigh down with a five pound weight. Usually cans of food are recommended, but there is a scarcity of canned food in our larder, so I went with books.  Refrigerate overnight.

My kitchen's holy book, Fannie Farmer's Cookbook was not hefty enough and needed some erudite assistance

Make the coulis by pushing the remaining berry mixture through a sieve with a wooden spoon and reserve in the fridge. 

Remember to use a clean spoon to scrape the outer bottom of the sieve!

Next day, whip up the cream, adding some sugar and a bit of vanilla extract if so desired. Invert the ramekins onto individual serving plates and remove the moulds/plastic wrap. Spoon the coulis around the pudding, topping it with whipped cream and garnish with whole berries, dusting them carefully with sieved confectioner's sugar.


The sourdough white came through with a nice robust touch, holding its own despite being gonflée (swollen) with berry juice. I suspect cinnamon bread, croissant, and brioche would add their own special qualities; I will substitute those for the sourdough white as I see a lot of berries in the near future! The fruit was more like a tart/sweet jam. The edible seeds from the currants were noticeable but not in a bad way, adding a little crunch to an otherwise soft texture. If you rather not have those seeds, then reserve the currants just for making the coulis. 

This is a gorgeous, refreshing dessert so the next time you are near a bunch of berries, take them home and make this moist mound of fruity delight afloat in a luscious sauce.


In the potager, I have been preparing beds as they come free for the autumn/winter harvest: leeks, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, peas, escarole, turnips, carrots, spinach, and beets.  Since these are all cool weather crops, I will water their beds well and cover them up with boards/cardboard/burlap for a few days to lower the soil temperature before sowing.

A garden is always a work in progress: spade, crate for weeds, yellow hose, and horticultural fleece

The tomatoes are beginning to change from green to yellow.

Beefsteak beauties

Hot, dry weather is continuing and perhaps the many days of cool rain will be a thing of the past so the melons can mature.

Cantaloupes are putting out fuzzy, tiny balls which hopefully will become melons

In the flower garden, the several Rose of Sharon bushes are beginning to bloom.


Because Dayo's injury unfortunately is not healing despite our best efforts, his weight-bearing, third toe on his right, back paw will need to be amputated. He's a young cat, having turned two this past April, so hopefully he will recover fairly quickly from surgery and learn how to compensate for one less toe without much difficulty.

Confined to the indoors, Dayo has discovered ways to keep himself amused. He loves hanging out in The Calm One's office because of all the knapsacks, briefcases, and satchels 'decorating' that room. 

Do I look cute in this?

À la prochaine!

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

Chilled Carrot/Red Currant/Orange Soup...and summer salads

The carrot patch is doing very well this season because of being covered with carrot-fly-deterring horticultural fleece, my planting a Chantenay variety, and unusually plentiful rains. This type of carrot is an underground bruiser; its nearly three-inch-wide shoulders sharply tapering into a sturdy cone acts like an intrepid drill without any fear of small stones. Hence, most of the harvest consists of juicy, non-forked carrots showing no sign of carrot fly damage.

Young, four-inch-long carrots. I will leave some to develop into six-inch-long adults

Though the flavour may not be as bright as a Nantes, it is more a satisfying, earthy one.  Realising that a cold soup is way more refreshing than a hot one during the summer, I made mVelouté de Carottes with the idea of using it as an experimental base for a chilled soup.

My white ceramic knife slices much more cleanly, faster & easier than a metal one.

As the red currant harvest is abundant, I grabbed a washed bunch of strigs and after saving some for garnishing, squeezed the rest in my fists over a sieve placed in a bowl. Using a wooden spoon, I worked the pulp through the sieve. For an amazingly delicious Vitamin C powerhouse drink, squeeze several handfuls, dilute with water for desired consistency and add sugar to taste--once imbibed it will make you feel like you could climb Mont Blanc. Alone. In the dead of winter.  Without much warm clothing.  It's eye-popping, potent stuff!

Since there were some oranges around, I peeled one and cut out a few segments for decoration. I squeezed the remaining peeled orange in my hands, keeping the two fruit juices separate. Then I beat some yogurt till very fluid, adding a touch of the red currant puree to make it pink and heighten its zing.

Into 125 ml of well chilled Velouté de Carottes, I stirred three tablespoons of red currant puree and two tablespoons of orange juice. Via a spoon, I dripped the topping from up high, moving the spoon quite fast in a circular pattern. Served with a red currant strig and some orange segments, this soup has a zesty flavour and a rich, smooth texture, making it a winner.


Back at the potager, I had planted not only heat-resistant head lettuce comme habitude, but for the first time, a looseleaf variety which the French call, à couper (to cut) which means I can harvest the desired number of leaves without picking the entire head.  New leaves will replace the removed ones.

When lettuce is a pale green, the French say it is blond

Garden-fresh scallions and carrots found their way into the salad bowl along with the lettuce.


A simple vinaigrette is one part Sherry vinegar (readers may remember I am smitten with the stuff!) and three parts extra virgin olive oil.  Put a dash of Dijon mustard, some salt and freshly ground black pepper, and the vinegar in a small mixing bowl.


Whisk the ingredients till smooth.


Then slowly add the oil while whisking.


A salad comprised of the freshest ingredients and lightly tossed with a piquant vinaigrette is a refreshing addition to a summer meal.


A serving of salad went well with one of my favourite supper dishes, squash-flower beignets.  The large, yellow flowers are first coated with beaten egg and dredged in a mixture of flour, salt, freshly ground black pepper, and grated Parmesan.  Then they are sauteed in ample olive oil and served piping hot.


Using the first harvest of the new potatoes I planted about eighty days ago, I boiled some along with some small carrots, peeled/sliced them, and added lettuce, scallions, tossing the lot with the vinaigrette and a generous amount of Parmesan shavings. It made a nice summer supper.


The June-bearing strawberries are finished, but there are a few ever-bearing strawberries each week. The latest batch went on the last of the red currant ice cream!


The black currants are in process of being harvested. Smelling their captivating fragrance results in my standing in a trance near a bush, unable to do anything at first except breathing in deeply their enticing, musky scent. Then the cook inside me wakes up, and says, pick them so you can make jelly or ice cream with them.  I do exactly that!


The weather forecast is for a week of sunny, dry weather.  I'll believe it when I see it!  The plentiful rains are keeping the garden looking lovely.

Pink/red roses, alyssum, lavender on the left, sage, fennel, and carrot bed on the right

The entrance to a commercial property flanking one side of the potager has two enormous spruce trees which are home to countless blackbirds whose whistling and chirping is an integral part of my garden experience.

View seen from sitting under the pergola

Front garden: lilies, yellow/pink roses, lavender, Shasta daisies, plum tree

The first peek of the garden when I open the shutters in the morning and the last hurried glance as I close them at night are the same:  a splash of lavender blue, a sprinkling of rose pink, and a mass of fleecy white.

Horticultural fleece protecting the carrot bed from carrot flies

Dayo's paw is greatly improved and he is doing well, but he still needs to spend most of his time indoors until there are no tender spots on his paw.

A cat and his bookcase

Taking a nap in the rocking chair next to my computer

Continued licking the area trying to scab over is the reason why complete healing is taking so long, but eventually it will.


À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

Growing carrots
Making red currant ice cream

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Red Currant Ice Cream

Fresh red currants are gorgeous in appearance and taste--luscious strigs strung with glowing, red globes bursting with wake-up-right-now flavour.  This season's harvest from our three bushes yielded enough to make jelly and something else.  What would be better than an ice cream blushed with pink and accentuated with equal parts tartness and sweetness?


This frozen dessert can be made conveniently without an ice cream maker. It's texture is between that of ice cream and sherbet--a silky lightness with a lingering richness.

Ingredients
(serves six)

  • Red currants, fresh, stemmed, 500 grams
  • Sugar, granulated, 200 grams
  • Cream, heavy, 300 ml
  • Cookies/biscuits for serving (I used digestive biscuits)

The night before, pre-chill an one-liter, lidded, plastic container. The next day, wash and pluck the berries off their stems, reserving a few whole strigs for garnishing. Dry them.


Place the red currants in a suitably sized saucepan and heat gently for several minutes, mashing them from time to time.


Strain through a sieve or a Foley Mill. Stir in the sugar till dissolved. Reserve the red currant puree in the fridge.


Whip the cream until stiff using a balloon whisk (check the boutique tag for the ones I recommend)/rotary egg beater/electric mixer.


Plop half the cream onto the red currant puree.


Start to fold in by putting a wooden spoon under an outer edge of the creamy wodge, bringing the spoon up and over the cream while turning the bowl a quarter turn.  Repeat a few times.


Add the rest of the cream and resume folding in.


Continue carefully to fold in until there are less and less pink and white swirls.


Keep at it until it becomes a solid pink colour, usually in five minutes.


Pour into the pre-chilled container.


Freeze until solid usually two hours (depending on your freezer).


Garnish with fresh red currants and serve with a digestive biscuit.  The wholemeal, crumbly texture of a digestive was a nice foil, but others probably would go just as well.  I suspect layers of crumbled up cookies and this ice cream would make an easy and delicious parfait.


In the potager, the blueberries planted in May are carrying a small load of green berries with a hint of the blue to come.


The onions got their fertiliser application required halfway through their growth.

 Scratch in a complete NPK fertiliser with a hand cultivator, and then water well

Starting on the left, in the front are rhubarb and onions, in the back, red/black currants, grapes, and raspberries

In the flower garden, the hydrangeas are beginning to bloom.


Though the French lavender is just starting to bud, the shorter English lavender is fully flowering


Because of a sore paw, Dayo is still spending more time indoors than out. We are now so used to him rooting about we usually pay no attention as he settles down fairly soon only to find when grabbing a knapsack or as The Calm One quipped, a catnapsack, the feline resident chez nous is eager to tag along during our grocery shopping.


Dayo was cheered when receiving the latest postcard from our friend, +Arthur Huang, a conceptual archivist living in Tokyo:

That's one brave tail hanging out in frigid, desolate space! 

À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

How to make red currant jelly
Making lavender water/drying lavender
How to transplant blueberries

RELATED LINKS

Arthur's website
The lowdown on wire whisks