“Can I tell you something about apricots? 1 in 30 is a good one. It’s such a low percentage fruit.”
- Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm
I have a hard time appreciating apricots. Unlike most of their stone fruit brethren, they lack the sweet-tart juiciness that makes cherries, peaches, and plums perfectly enjoyable with only a rinse of water as prep work. They’re a little mealy and have (in my opinion) a sort of off-putting pasty texture. The only things I really like about apricots are that 1. they are cute and 2. their pits are super easy to remove. So what did this apricot-disliker do with a dry quart of fresh ones? (I refuse to make jam/preserves.)
Oatmeal Cookies with Fresh Apricots, White Chocolate, and Pecans
I finally busted out my brand new KitchenAid mixer (thank you Diana, Nicole, Pavla, Jake and blog-less Mike) to make these. They weren’t exactly the best cookies I’ve ever made. In fact, they were probably the worst. My head is swimming with ideas why but I’m not ready to blame it on the apricots being fresh rather than dried, because it’s been done. Anyway, the idea of a chewy oatmeal cookie with fruit, white chocolate, and nuts is still a good one, so I am alarmingly determined to get this one right. Get ready for cookies, friends, because I certainly cannot handle that much dessert.
Apricot Clafoutis
Just like gooseberry clafoutis (or a traditional cherry clafoutis) but with pitted apricot halves and flavored with almond and vanilla extracts. Next time: smoother batter!
Apricot and Prosciutto Flatbread
Prosciutto and fruit is always so good. You almost can’t go wrong. The idea for this came from Cooking Light and a cooking blog far more impressive than this one. I pre-baked the crust for a few minutes in a very hot oven, then topped it with ricotta, sliced apricots, and prosciutto and popped it back in the oven for a bit. After that, a sprinkling of salt, pepper, fresh basil, and grated Parmigiano cheese to finish it off. The crust wasn’t (is never, sigh) quite crisp enough on the bottom. I am starting to seriously want a pizza stone but I’m not sure we have room for one (and the wooden paddle board thingy) among all the other cool new stuff in our kitchen. Like that KitchenAid mixer.
Last week I dug out a bag of farro from the back of my pantry to make this recipe from the always-inspiring 101 Cookbooks blog. This week, I tried a roasted vegetable version of it using some of the leftover cooked farro I had. Instead of the usual light and crunchy summer fare, I was craving something with a bit more cool-weather appeal (since it’s so gray and breezy in New York this week… I know, I’m not ready for sleeves either). Roasting the squash and radishes (yeah, roasted radishes) gave them that nutty brown-roasted-vegetable-flavor (pardon my lack of vocabulary on this one) that is good on almost anything. A bowl of this stuff was perfect as a single-serving quick bite to eat. I had it as a side item to go with a sandwich, but it could also be a good one-bowl meal with some beans, shredded chicken, or fried or poached eggs on top.
Farro
Bring farro and water to a boil, then lower heat and cook, partially covered, until tender. It can take as long as an hour, depending on whether or not the grains are semi-pearled (have had some of the outer bran removed). Farro that isn’t pearled can also be soaked in water overnight to cut down on the cooking time. Add salt toward the last 10 minutes or so of cooking.
Roasted Radishes and Summer Squash (fennel would’ve been good too)
Cut vegetables into bite size pieces and toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper. I like to do this directly on a foil-lined toaster oven tray. Roast at 425 degrees until soft and lightly browned (about 20 minutes).
Creamy Dressing
I used a spoonful of homemade crème fraîche (easy instructions here) to make the dressing, but yogurt or buttermilk or sour cream (or no dairy at all) could also be good. Combine a small dollop of crème fraîche with minced onion, salt, pepper, white wine vinegar, and olive oil. Again, I like to do this directly in the bowl I’m eating out of.
Add farro to dressing and toss to coat. Top with roasted vegetables and chopped fresh herbs.
I’ve been getting a whole lot of basil these past few weeks, which means I will have a whole lot of pesto for the next few months. This salad (I guess that’s what you’d call it) is one of those easy-but-not-boring non-recipe things that can be thrown together quickly and without much thought. It’s healthy, it can be eaten at any temperature, the ingredients are cheap, and it’s meat-, dairy-, and gluten-free (in case that’s a concern). You can even mention that this classic combination of ingredients is from Liguria, Italy, and not just some random cobbling together of leftovers. Can you say, picnic? Or potluck? Or gourmet camping?
All you need to do is:
1. Bring potato chunks to a boil in salted water (start with cold water and use a lot of salt! Here’s an explanation why). Cook until they’re tender, then drain and set aside.
2. Blanch the green beans in boiling water, then dunk them in a bowl of ice water. This cools them off and keeps their color bright green (basic explanation, again). Chop into bite-size pieces.
3. Toss it all with some pesto (more than you see in the photo). Season with more salt and pepper, to taste.
Back in January (which feels like a crazy long time ago), John and I spent a week in San Francisco catching up with old friends and repeatedly overfeeding ourselves at places like Tartine, Bi-Rite, Humphry Slocombe, Chow, and the Mission (yes, the entire neighborhood). During one of our visits to Tartine, I had a slice of a moist, savory olive and ham bready loafy thing, enjoyed it, then returned to the East Coast. Months later, the New York Times told me it was a cake salé (“kek”… c’est drôle), a category of French quick breads that are ultra-portable and go well with summery wines. Um, yes please.
The accompanying New York Times recipe is pretty solid. I used leeks (the white and light green parts from 2 medium ones, chopped and gently browned in a little bit of butter and olive oil) instead of ham, but the combination of cheese and cured meat and onion-tasting things is enough of an excuse to make this again with all three add-ins. I don’t really understand how this stuff is supposed to be shared at picnics (or anywhere, for that matter) because I could easily eat an entire loaf on my own.
Forget cobbler. Instead of waiting for a dish full of fruit and dough to get all gooey and hot in the oven, I sandwiched some peach slices between leftover buttery breakfast biscuits with homemade honey-bourbon ice cream and a smear of Jocelyn’s tart blueberry jam. Incidentally, this was a break from learning about fat metabolism.
Summer produce feels like the greatest thing in the world right now. Especially the way it smells. Every morning I stick my head into a bag of peaches and take a big whiff before slicing one up into my breakfast. Our CSA basil is so good that you can smell it halfway down the block from the pickup site (a church. an indoor church). And I love picking the stems off of tomatoes and sniffing them, because their scent reminds me of my grandparents’ old house.
I don’t have any good/fun/creative ideas or recipes for peaches (or fruit in general, really) because when we get some good ones, things like cake batter and ice cream only seem to get in the way. The tomatoes (especially the cherry tomatoes) have also been good enough to eat on their own. Still, I find myself eating the same thing for lunch everyday: simple tomato and cheese sandwiches. It’s hard to go wrong when you put tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and a good smear of homemade basil pesto between two slices of bread.
Or how about a buttery-ass grilled cheddar and gouda sandwich with yellow and red tomatoes? This combo never ever ever gets old.
Ok fine, I had one of each of these today. I hope you’re all as in love with tomatoes as I am right now.
Rat-tail radishes are the seed pods of a radish plant, rather than the familiar round-ish or finger-shaped pink and white roots. The pods taste mellower than the roots, and their texture reminds me of a stringier string bean. I get a few branches of these pods every summer through my CSA. In the past, they were relegated to the back of the crisper drawer, and I’d chop up a few at a time as an afterthought to whatever salad. Eh, boring.
This time around, I stuffed the pods into a jar of pickling liquid (hot water, apple cider vinegar, sugar, salt, yellow mustard seeds, black peppercorns, red chili flakes… exact quantities have been forgotten) and let them hang out in the fridge while I was in Hawaii. A few weeks later, ta-da! I nibble on a few every night while making dinner.
Previous pickling experiences:
spicy radish roots and carrots
exploding kimchi
Here’s my latest in grain exploration. Wheatberries aren’t actually berries the way, say, blueberries are berries. Wheatberries are entire kernels of wheat: bran, germ, and all. They’re kind of like round, chewy grains of rice. To prepare them, all you have to do is drop them in some boiling water for about 1 hour to 90 minutes, then drain them. They’re great for salads (e.g. with cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, scallions, lemon juice, olive oil, and feta cheese) or even breakfast (scooped on top of yogurt with honey and fruit).
A week spent in Kauaʻi is a wonderful, wonderful thing. We stared at the outrageously beautiful scenery from dawn ‘til dusk everyday, swam with sea turtles and the famous humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa, and took beer-fueled naps on the beach every now and then. We ate fresh poke and all kinds of pork (kalua pork, lau lau, and of course, Spam), overbought then gorged ourselves on all kinds of locally grown fruit (mangoes, passion fruit, soursop, non-Hass avocados, little bananas that make the everyday Cavendish seem like a bland, oversized loser of a fruit), and even managed to pull together some cheap, tasty meals of our own creation in a modest kitchenette. Like the one you see below: sliced bread with sausages, Kauai Kunana goat cheese, drippy mango pieces, and nutty avocado slices.
You know what else is good? A nice ripe avocado with fresh lime juice (those Hawaii limes were killer, I wish I had smuggled some back) and a good sprinkling of salt, eaten with a spoon. It’s basically perfect.
Kind of like flan, kind of like a Dutch baby pancake. Clafoutis is a dessert from central France that is traditionally made with sweet cherries, which are in season right now. The batter is eggy and custardy and soft. Best of all, clafoutis is a breeze to make. I didn’t even break a sweat, even with the oven pre-heating.
My CSA cherries were too good to not be savored on their own, so I made use of some tart gooseberries in their place. I also added a bit of St-Germain elderflower liquer, which I love but have too much of, since I am not enough of a master-cocktailer to make fancy beverages with it. Clafoutis can also be made with just about any other kind of berry or sliced fruit (and other liquers and extracts, if you’d like).
recipe:
a bit of butter and a bit of flour
about 1 1/2 cups gooseberries
3 eggs
1/3 to 1/2 cup sugar
pinch of salt
1 1/4 cups milk or cream (or a combination of the two)
1/4 cup St-Germain liquer (optional… if you don’t use it, replace with 1/4 cup milk or cream)
1/2 cup flour
powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Butter a 10-inch pie plate, gratin dish, or cake pan. Dust with flour, then shake off the excess that doesn’t stick to the butter.
Whisk eggs in a large bowl until frothy. Blend in sugar and salt, then add milk/cream and liquer. (Or maybe try soaking the gooseberries in St-Germain? I didn’t do this, but it might be a way to temper the tartness of the berries.) Gradually add flour while stirring gently to get everything well blended (there may still be some lumps, which is okay).
Spread gooseberries out evenly in the buttered and floured pan. Pour batter over the berries. Bake in the oven for 40 minutes, or until top is lightly golden and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool, then dust with powdered sugar before serving.
Note: I am eating a cold wedge of this stuff as I write. The leftovers make a decent breakfast.
