Archives for category: fruit syrups

I recently made homemade phyllo (or filo) for the first time, following instructions I found on YouTube. Every stage was easy until I got to dealing with the stacked sheets of thin dough rolled out to size. There was some sticking and crumpling, but I managed to use the phyllo to make eight triangles of spanakopita, following this recipe.

It is spring here in western Washington state and the local farmers market has had beautiful spinach. I was later than usual getting out the door yesterday because I had an episode of vertigo. I stopped at the health food store for feta and lemons, dreaming of the spanakopita I would eat this week.

Alas, when I got to the market, the farmer I like to patronize most had sold out of everything but dill and turnips. I scavenged around the market and loaded up on salad greens and radishes, a bunch of green onions.

On the walk home I began thinking about what I had in the house. I had andouille and chicken apple sausage and corn in the freezer. I had a small jar of sun-dried tomatoes. I had green onions, cilantro, a lime wedge and the feta I had just bought. I could make a respectable skillet of pasta with those things.

Tonight I did, and I’m eating bites of it between typing this up.

Amounts are loose when I cook pasta. I get out a big skillet with a glass top and start sautéing things in olive oil while the water heats for pasta. I cut two andouille sausages into half moons and added a few half moons of chicken-apple sausage that had been sitting in the refrigerator. I chopped up the white parts of two green onions, saving the green parts for later. When the sausage and onion were in the pan, I shook frozen corn over that layer and snipped four or five dried tomatoes into bite-sized pieces. When the pan started to get dry I poured a bit of water from my boiling pasta into it. I added crumbled feta — I had about three ounces. More pasta water, plus the al dente pasta. Then, at the end, I added the onion greens and some cilantro leaves, squeezed the lime wedge over it all and stirred.

It was a tasty dinner and there is enough left in the skillet for at least two more meals.

What else will I eat this week? Plenty of salads (I had salad for lunch). I’ve got at least one salmon fillet in the freezer. I can have that with a baked potato and some stir-fried bok choy. Or another salad. One of my students sent me her recipe for homemade granola and I made up a batch last week. That and yogurt or milk and dried fruit takes care of breakfast. I’ve got half a dozen eggs and frozen half bagels from the local shop.

I’ll make it through the week and hope to get up early enough to catch the beginning of the farmers market next weekend for more spinach. I found a couple of blocks of feta in the back of the freezer and one vendor has green onions each week right now. Fresh dill is in season and I always have radish greens (I chop them and mix them with spinach, a nod to frugality with no significant alteration in taste).

P.S. For those of you who followed the orange syrup chronicles, the latest thing I made with reserved orange syrup was baked rice pudding, using the orange syrup instead of adding sugar to the cooked rice, milk, eggs, raisins and orange peel. I seasoned it with cardamom — both fresh ground seeds and a dash of cardamom bitters to give it an Indian dessert vibe. It was utterly delicious, if a bit sweet — it’s hard to judge the sweetness before the pudding is baked. Next time I might add some chopped blanched almonds, furthering the Indian profile: for now I just toss a few raw almonds into each bowl of rice pudding. Using sugar syrup instead of granulated sugar means that the pudding takes longer to cook, perhaps twice as long. You want it to be firm before you take it out of the oven and I like to see some browning on the top.

painting of sour cherry pie, cherry syrup and ingredients

Sour Cherry Pie (Detail) 12″ x 12″ gouache and watercolor paper. Sharyn Dimmick

How can cherries be a part of seasonal cooking in November when I don’t live in Australia? When the weather turns cold we turn to preserved foods. We still have apples on our backyard apple tree, but Mom asked me to roast a pork loin and some squash while she and my sister-in-law Barbara scrubbed and taped walls for painting (I know I got the better part of this division of labor). Because I am supposedly getting ready for a week away, I wanted an easy pie with no peeling and paring, no slicing, so I went for the canned cherries in the garage. These are pitted sour cherries canned in juice. Mom had made crust earlier in the week, so it was pie time again. And while I’m at it, I’ll just say that I have made fresh sour cherry pie from some sour cherries I scored at the Ferry Plaza market in San Francisco and — drum roll — we prefer pie made with canned sour cherries.

Here is how to make cherry pie — my cherry pie.

Make the crust first. If you make Madge’s recipe, you will have enough crust for two cherry pies, so you can pit my cherry pie against your favorite recipe, double the filling recipe and make two cherry pies from this recipe or save the extra crust for quiche or apple pie. Our recipe is handy at Thanksgiving and Christmas when you are baking lots of of pies, but. truth to tell, pie is never a problem here: we’ll eat it for breakfast, dinner, lunch and tea.

Once again, the no-rant version* of pie crust for your convenience:

Cut 1 cup of vegetable shortening plus 2 Tbsp of butter into 3 cups of unbleached flour and 1 tsp salt  until the mixture resembles small peas. Do not overwork the dough — you want to see streaks of fat in the raw dough: they will melt while baking and create flaky crust. If you use salted butter, you can reduce the salt to 1/4 tsp.

Into a 1-cup liquid measuring cup, break 1 large egg. Beat egg with fork until blended.

Add 1 Tbsp cider vinegar to egg and stir. Then add water until combined liquids measure 1/2 cup, plus a little more.

Add liquids to shortening and flour and work just until combined. Pat dough into a flattened circle. If you are a novice pie baker, you may want to wrap the dough in waxed paper and chill it for awhile. The intrepid and experienced can divide the dough in half and proceed by cutting one half-circle in half again — this recipe makes four crusts, so half of it will give you the crust for your two-crust cherry pie.

Roll crust out on a floured work surface with a floured rolling pin. Roll firmly but lightly, being sure to roll all the way to the edges — you want the crust thin, but you don’t want to press it down and make it stick. You’ll figure it out — it’s not that hard. Try your best to keep the crust circular. Measure the crust by setting your pie plate on top of it, allowing for enough crust to cover the sides. Fold rolled crust into quarters to pick it up and unfold it again in your pie tin.

Now you have an aesthetic choice to make. For that classic lattice cherry pie you can roll your next quarter of crust into another circle and cut the crust into long strips, which you will lay crosswise over the filling later. If you don’t have the inclination to build a lattice, just take your circle and fold it into quarters, leaving it for the top crust later.

Go and preheat your oven to 375 degrees if using a Pyrex pie plate. If you use metal, you can start the pie at 400, but be on hand to turn it down after ten or fifteen minutes.

Now the filling:

Mix 1/4 cup cornstarch and scant 3/4 cup sugar in a dry saucepan. Whisk until blended.

Open 2 cans of sour cherries packed in water (Do not use cherry pie filling, which belongs on The Horror Roll). Drain the juice from the cherries into a 2-cup measuring cup — you will have about 1 and 1/3 cups. Leave the drained cherries in the cans for now.

Whisk 1/3 cup cherry juice into the cornstarch and sugar and stir with whisk until thickened over medium heat. The first sign that the cornstarch is working is the appearance of little shapes that look like ragged skin. If you don’t care for the pale pink color add the secret ingredient, red food coloring, drop by drop until you get a hue you like — I particularly recommend this option if you are going the lattice crust route or planning to take photos of your pie. When the mixture is thick and glossy add the reserved cherries, remove from heat and stir in

1 Tbsp butter and

a grating of fresh nutmeg

Pour the filling into your prepared pie shell and weave your lattice strips over the top, or plonk your unfolded top crust over the filling and make an attractive pattern of knife slashes for vents. Do not wash your saucepan yet! Place pie in oven. Bake for about 50 minutes or until crust is nicely browned and filling is bubbling.

Now, remember that other cup of cherry juice sitting in your measuring cup? You can drink it if you want to, which Mom does sometimes, but this is what I do with it: put it in your saucepan. Add some sugar — more than a Tablespoon, less than a cup. Turn the burner back on and boil it down until thickened — you want it to coat the spoon and be bubbly and shiny. Decant carefully into a glass jar (pour along a spoon or a knife if you are nervous — the metal absorbs some of the heat). Let cool and then refrigerate. This will keep indefinitely in a cold refrigerator. It is delicious on cornmeal pancakes, stirred into your morning oatmeal, over ice cream, with lemon pound cake …. You can also add some cream and cook it into cherry caramel — you’ll never drain cherries over the sink or throw out cherry juice again!

Let your pie cool while you eat dinner or make tea (at least fifteen or twenty minutes — the hotter the pie when you cut it, the more likely the filling is to run. We don’t care a whole lot about this, but for a prettier pie give it some cooling time).

Serve plain or a la mode.

*For the full rant on pie crust, please visit Gravenstein Apple Pie.

Food notes: For the full flavor benefit you must make this with sour cherries packed in water and scant the sugar as I do. For those of you stateside, canned sour pie cherries show up infrequently at Canned Foods Grocery Outlet — aka “Half Foods.” Some cherry pie recipes call for lemon — that will not be necessary with this pie. Please do not make it with sweet cherries (Bings, Burlats, etc.) — sour cherries have a different flavor, the ideal flavor for cherry pie in my opinion. Try them and see. If you are out of cornstarch, you can substitute flour: if you use flour, your filling will be cloudy rather than clear, but it will taste equally good.

On Kale: When I wasn’t making cherry pie, baking acorn squash with hot mustard, honey, lime and black pepper, roasting the squash seeds or boiling down cherry syrup I finally tried my friend Cathy’s version of kale with fresh walnuts and homemade raisins. The verdict at the table? “It’s still kale.” Back to the tasting laboratory…

I’ll be away for eight days starting Sunday sans electronic devices with which to entertain you or read and respond to your comments. Please make comments anyway if you are so moved. I’ll be back to coach you through your cherry pie crises well before the run up to Thanksgiving. I’ll also instruct the robot to give you a post to read on Wednesday while I am gone. Au revoir, dear readers. I’ll be back in person November 14 with stories to tell and perhaps a new recipe or two.