Layered Puree Of Roasted Beetroots & Their Greens

Our beet crop is in full swing. Roasting veggies is a wonderful way of preparing them, especially when serving as a mash because their moisture content is decreased to the point that flavour is intensified while the texture is made more pleasing. Beetroots are no exception. Cooler weather makes turning the oven on not too much of a big deal. Beets, along with radishes and turnips, work hard for the kitchen garden as they provide both roots and foliage resulting in a double harvest. Since red and green are complementary colours and pack a visual punch, I layered the roasted, creme-fraiche-enriched beet puree with a puree of greens sauteed in olive oil with garlic. Double harvest, double puree. Topped with a lemon slice and fleur de sel, it makes a light lunch or supper when served with cheese and crackers.

If beets with their greens are not to be had at your market, fret not, roasted beetroot puree topped with creme fraiche is wonderful.

Ingredients are bolded. To roast beets: Preheat oven to 204 degrees C/400 degrees F. (The beets can be roasted along with other stuff at lower temperatures but they will take longer.) Trim both tops and bottoms. Scrub well. Though they can be enclosed in foil, it is much easier to check doneness if they are placed in a foil-lined, lid-covered oven dish. Oil the foil. When checking them as they bake, if they look dry or sticking then add a bit of water. They are done when a knife inserted into their centres meets with no resistance. My melange of small to medium beets took about an hour. Peel carefully with a sharp knife, trimming away any dark bits as they tend toward bitterness. The finished beet will look translucent and bright red. If there are excess beets, let cool, portion, and then freeze. This way you can have borscht in the future. A tablespoon or so of creme fraiche or sour cream added to the blender or a stick mixer's container will ensure lusciousness. Salt to taste. Reserve.

To make the sauteed greens puree: Wash the beet greens.

Trim off most of the red stems as they make a grainy texture in addition to being quite bitter.

Dry them in a kitchen or paper towel.

In a large pot, heat up some olive oil (if you adore olive oil slicked greens as much as I do, then thinly cover the pot's bottom with the oil) over medium low heat. Add as much minced fresh garlic as you want and saute for a minute (no browning!) or as in my case, if you are making do with garlic powder, wait until the greens are added. Turn the heat to high and depending on the size of the pot and the amount of greens, add them in increments. As they start to wilt, add more, stirring all the time. Cover, and lower heat to a small flame, braise until tender, around ten minutes. During that time, check to see if a bit of water needs to be added to prevent any burning and sticking. Blend till smooth. Salt to taste.

To present: When layering, first spoon the puree close to the sides of the glass and then work towards the centre. This way the demarcated layers will be clearly seen from the outside. Start with the greens, followed with the beetroot, another layer of greens, and then edge the top with beetroot letting the previous layer of greens to peek through. Cut a thin slice of lemon from its edge to its centre and then twist it into a swirl, topping the double puree with it. Sprinkle with fleur de sel. I served it at room temperature, but it can be chilled if desired. The sweetness from the beetroots contrasted nicely with the slight bitterness of the greens. Lovely to look at, and lovely to eat.

À la prochaine!

Keeping Up With The Figs Plus The Late Summer Garden

Our fig tree started last week to present fruit ripe enough for picking. Presently it is yielding about twenty large figs daily. Learning from our massive blackberry harvest earlier in the season, I knew I wanted to process our figgy bounty in a similar way. Without generating any more heat than what the summer was already providing along with retaining as much vitamin content as possible, the uncooked fruit in the case of the blackberries were put through a Foley mill followed by an addition of confectioner's sugar per sweetness preference; in the case of the figs, they, along with maple syrup, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg added to taste, were pureed with a stick blender. Once portioned and popped into the freezer, these home-grown fruits will be ready for future use in all kinds of goodies. I do reserve daily some fresh fig puree to mix into yogurt or if I am experiencing a super home-grown-fruit-appreciation day, I make a tall parfait to take out into the garden. It showcases our blackberries, blueberries, and figs all in one fell swoop. First goes in a layer of crumbled blueberry muffin, followed with the spiced fig puree, blackberry coulis, and yogurt. Topped with more muffin crumbs and a deluge of fig puree and blackberry coulis, it is out of this world with the goodness of fruit.

I love digging a spoon in and seeing swirls of fig puree and blackberry coulis spontaneously appear in a plethora of patterns.

  

A blueberry muffin crumb gracing the gustatory situation just makes everything even better.

Not only are fig trees vigorous, they are also easy to grow and maintain. Pruning is not that difficult as the wood isn't too hard. Since arriving here ten years ago, I haven't yet fertilised it. I do water it in between rains during summer. How to know when they are ripe? First thing, you need to know the colour for your fig variety when it's mature. Ours is mostly purplish brown with swatches of green. Also the fig should not be right angles to its twig/branch, but instead be drooping a bit. Additionally when pressing ever so gently, it will feel like a small balloon filled tightly with air. Lastly, though not always, there will be a drop of juice oozing from the bottom centre. Those are best eating right out of hand immediately. Picking involves slightly twisting the stout stem that afixes each fig to its branch until there's a plump packet of delight sitting in your palm. Since their skin is fragile, bruising easily which is why storebought figs are expensive, place each fig in a single layer. Recycled egg cartons are great as fig harvest baskets.

Two thirds of our tree is in our garden and the other third is in .  .  .

. . . in the yard of a refrigeration depot which is directly behind our urban garden. When their entrance is open I can harvest figs from that side. This coming late winter, I will remember to prune that part of the tree which presently is touching the ground!

Late summer is such a lovely time. It's so enjoyable to sit under the pergola and gaze upon . . .

. . . all the abundance.

Out in the front garden, the border directly in front of the balcony stairs leading to the front entrance door is a tropical riot of yucca and canna with a cooling splash of temperate dahlias, lobelia, and sedum.

À la prochaine!

Summer Break 2020

Souped-up Garden will return the earliest mid-August, the latest the first week in September!

High Summer 2020

A fresh spring garden, all bright green and friendly, became a lush summer solstice one which is now becoming a glorious mature profusion but not surprisingly showing signs of wear and tear. Watering, weeding, and deadheading will prolong the abundance for a while.

There are three large pots of orange/yellow calendula and deepest blue lobelia, all sowed from seed, throughout our garden. They did need to be sprayed with sulfur to combat a fungal disease called calendula smut. And they may need to be dosed again in order for them to continue flowering all through summer.

For years now social media images of a pot on its side spilling out lobelia visually simulating a small stream intriqued me, and this was the summer I finally got around realising this clever concept.

The 'stream' flows amidst cannas and dahlias. I love it so. It was just a matter of burying one quarter of the depth of an empty pot put on its side, filling it one thirds with soil, and planting by laying the roots laterally with the flowers placed beyond the pot's opening before topping up with more soil. 

It is now the fourth summer that this fragrant tuberous begonia has graced a small sous sol window sill. I hope it will bloom yet again in 2021.

Pots of miniature roses have found their home in a large tub along with a blueberry bush. In this way, not only does the display look full, when the roses are watered/fertilised so is the blueberry!

Hydrangeas are now fading into glorious subtle tones/texture and by autumn will become much like silver lace which always is a treat to behold.

The ivy topiary heart is being shaped gradually.  I just love it! Sculpting greenery is fun and gives so much joy. The structure on which it grows is a thick honeysuckle trunk that gave up the ghost nearly a decade ago. Requiring both patience and decisiveness makes topiary quite a learning experience.

Beets are putting out foliage which when thinned are added to minestrone.

Green beans are flowering. Soon tiny pods will appear and in several weeks they will be ready for picking.

À la prochaine!

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!

Blueberry Bonanza: Double Batch of Muffins and Cake

Our two potted blueberry bushes have given us three litres and show no sign of letting up. I looked at all those blueberries and said, Batch! I have been wanting to try Maida Heatter's Blueberry crumb cake showcased at Smitten Kitchen for a while now, and we had just finished the last blueberry muffin made from the previous harvest season. Channeling my inner blueberry counter, I concluded not only was there enough for each recipe, but both could be doubled. Since they are still coming in, I foresee blueberry jam in our near future.

The sizable amount of lemon zest along with cinnamon and a crumb topping in her recipe appealed immensely to me.

Ingredients

two 9 inch cakes or one large sheet pan cake, recipe can be halved

Adapted from Maida Heatter's recipe via Smitten Kitchen

Topping

• Flour, all purpose, 80 g (I used pastry flour which made the crumbs most uncrumblike but still fabulous)
• Sugar, granulated, 200 g
• Cinnamon, ground, 2 tsp
• Butter, sweet, 110 g
• Salt, large pinch, 2

Cake

• Flour, all purpose, 480 g
• Baking powder, 4 tsp
• Salt, table, 1 tsp
• Butter, sweet, softened, 110 g
• Sugar, granulated, 300 g (I accidentally doubled it to 600 g, and the cake was still not too sweet)
• Zest from 2 large lemons
• Eggs, large or medium, 2
• Berries, fresh, clean & dry, 680 g (though Smitten Kitchen used 910 g!)
• Milk, whole, 16 T
• Vanilla extract, 2 tsp (I subbed maple syrup)
• Icing sugar for dusting (in my case, with the double amount of sugar, there was no need)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. (If baking in two pans, then it's at 400 degrees F) Mix the topping ingredients, that is, flour, sugar, cinnamon and salt. Work butter into the mixture until crumbs are formed. Reserve. Line a round pan with parchment paper, greasing and flouring the paper. In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt until blended.  In a large bowl, cream butter, sugar, and zest until light and fluffy (I used a stick blender, but it can be done in a food processor/stand mixer or by hand). With a wooden spoon (if not using a stand mixer), beat in eggs and vanilla (or in my case maple syrup). Stir in one third of the dry ingredient mixture until combined followed by one half of the milk. Repeat with the next one-third of the dry ingredients and the last half of the milk. Finish with the final one-third of the dry mixture. (For a fool-proof way of preventing berries from sinking, put a 2.5 cm (an 1/2 inch) thick layer of berry-free batter in the pan before folding them into the rest of the batter and topping up the pan.)) Gently fold blueberries into batter until well distributed. Pour into prepared pan and give it a shake or two to even out the batter. Scatter the crumbs.

Bake for forty minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the cake comes out dry and/or when you give a sprightly touch in the centre, the cake springs back. Cool cake at least twenty minutes before flipping it out onto a plate to remove the paper. Flip it back right side up. Dust with icing sugar if desired. The topping melted into a glaze (because I used pastry flour and soft butter instead of all purpose and cold butter) which added a nice cinnamony crunch.

Berry beautiful!

The cake is fluffy and the berries luscious.

The only change I made to the blueberry muffin recipe I have already used is to double the sugar and mash one fifth of the berries. Single batch recipe is here. I love how the muffins are well streaked with blue, and also it made the fresh fruitiness even more so.

Portioned up into single servings and popped in the freezer, the cake and muffins will be ready whenever we are to partake in their deliciousness.

À la prochaine!

Southwest France Walks / Return to Linars

Hiking during the summer is a new endeavour for us. Since it gets so hot in southwest France, we had decided to limit our walking to the spring and autumn. Until now, that is. The Calm One suggested that since we had a collection of nearby short walks previously trod and therefore familiar, it would be a cinch to do one of them in the evening when it's cooler. So at around 8 p.m., we tootled off in our electric Zoe to the rural village of Linars where vineyards and cornfields abound. It's just a ten minute drive southwest from our small city of Angoulême.

Some posts holding the wires supporting vines were tagged with strips of white cloth. A non-verbal communication among cultivators?

Another marking system may be in the form of these blue plastic tubes.

Gnarled, old, and still vigorous. Plants are fabulous!

Though our department is known for its cognac which is made mostly from the ugni blanc variety along with several others, since the 1970s, its wines, red, white, and rose, are receiving increasing attention. There are lots more grape varieties now being cultivated. It's common even when wandering not that far from the city to spot vines discreetly tucked away in a bend of a path, flanking a forest, or squatting between hills.

The nearby countryside is dotted with cornfields.

Obviously wildflowers in the above and below photos are some kind of wild daisies. Lovely tiny blooms borne in clusters atop ferny foliage didn't fail to lifts our spirits.

Yellow and pink bicolour sweetpeas were stunning.

Striated purple geraniums also graced our hike.

Towards the end of our walk, twilight was quickly deepening, but the setting sun was still able to stripe a field with gold.

À la prochaine!

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Previous Linars hike

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Undiscovered French Wines (that is, Charente wine)