a plethora of peaches

Peach season rolled in like a juggernaut last week. For the past several summers, Grandma K. has placed an order on our behalf with an orchard about 5 minutes from her house for hard-to-find Sunhighs. It's much like Prohibition, this order: you show up and pay when you're told, you take what you get, and you're happy with this arrangement because there aren't many other options if you want this particular variety. And my golly, do you EVER want this particular variety.

Sunhighs are freestones, and when ripe, their skins peel off in big swaths with a couple tugs of a paring knife. They are extremely fragrant and juicy, plenty sweet enough to eat plain. They also make a killer crisp or pie and are sturdy enough to hold their shape if canned or frozen. Finally, they make a knockout spiced peach jam. We made several batches for wedding favors and more than one guest later told us they skeptically popped it open, intending to try a little on a piece of toast, only to devour the whole 4 ounces straight from the jar in one go.

This recipe works well with any variety of freestone peach, but really shines with Sunhighs.

Grandma K's Spiced Peach Jam

• 4 c prepared fruit (about 3 pounds fully ripe peaches)
• 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice (can substitute bottled juice)
• 1/2 tsp ground allspice
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 5 1/2 c sugar (do not skimp on this or the jam won't set)
• 1 box Sure-Jell or other brand of pectin (if using low-sugar variety, read instructions for adjusted sugar amount)
• 1/2 tsp butter or margarine

1. Peel, pit, and finely chop the peaches. If you use a food processor for the "finely chop" part, make sure to leave some visible pieces of peach instead of turning it into a uniform slurry. Measure 4 cups into a 6-8 quart saucepan. Stir in lemon juice and spices.
2. Measure sugar into a separate bowl and set aside.
3. Stir Sure-Jell into fruit. Add butter or margarine. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally, then quickly stir in all of the sugar at once. Bring the jam back up to a full rolling bowl for exactly 1 minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and skim off foam with a cold metal spoon.
4. Immediately fill hot, sterilized jars to within 1/8 inch of top. Seal with hot, sterilized lids and rings. Keeping jars level, move each to a rack or a cloth-covered wooden board to cool off and seal. You'll hear the lids pop over the next few hours. (We always sing out a "yay!" when they do this. Feel free to do the same.) If some of the jars don't seal in 3-4 hours, just put them in the refrigerator. They should be good for several months.
5. Do not move the sealed jars for 8-12 hours so the jam has a chance to set well. If the outside of a jars is sticky, remove the ring and gently wash the jar and ring with warm soapy water. Dry well, label, and put in a cool dark place until ready to use.
   

winter-to-spring salad

So I was working from home one day this week and trying to figure out what to do about lunch. I really dislike cooking or even thinking about putting together a normal, everyday meal, especially when it's just me. And when I say "really dislike," you may as well read that as "avoid at all costs." Given the choice among pulling out a cookbook and browsing for inspiration, falling back on something I can make with my eyes closed like a pot of red beans and rice, or pulling out the Cheerios, I'm going to go for the breakfast cereal every time. I can't tell you just HOW GREAT it is to be married to someone who loves to cook meals. I totally hit the lottery and I'm thankful every time the Boy Scout looks at me with a gleam in his eye and a stack of open cookbooks on the counter and asks, "How do you feel about [fill-in-the-blank-with-some-ridiculously-gorgeous-entree-that-takes-hours-of-dicing/steaming/assembling]?" And the leftovers? I'm drooling just thinking about it. You think risotto is good on the first night, wait until the flavors have a chance to develop for 24 hours.

But alas, on this particular day, there were no leftovers, and the fridge was pretty bare. Ends of cheeses, almost-gone relishes, a few pieces of fruit nearly ready for the compost. Luckily, the salad greens in the backyard were going great guns and in serious need of a trim, so I threw together this salad in about 5 minutes. If you've never tried chive flowers, you should. Not only are they colorful, they have a garlic-onion kick that elevates this salad to something a little more along the lines of what the Boy Scout turns out.

Winter-to-Spring Salad

• 1/4 large ripe pear, sliced into bite-size wedges
• 1/4 c goat cheese, crumbled
• 2 tbsp good olives, sliced
• 3 tbsp broken walnuts
• 2 c fresh salad greens, preferably a spicy mix
• 1 tbsp chive flowers (dried or fresh)
• balsamic dressing

Toss together and go outside into your garden to eat it.
Serves 1

It seemed like a good idea at the time

I've this lovely new friend who is working on a project that requires her to research cooking and food. At work. It's her JOB. How lucky is she?!

She's been emailing interesting recipes my way, and she even gave me an Irish-themed cookbook because I was flipping through it and found instructions for making Guinness ice cream, quite possibly one of the best edible things on the planet. (Did anyone besides me buy a gazillion pints of what turned out to be a limited edition of the Ben & Jerry's version, circa 2006? The name -- Black & Tan -- caused a bit of a stink with Irish Nationalists, but boy was it yummy.)

Anyway, knowing that I love to bake and love Guinness, my friend sent me this recipe for Guinness Bread. Looks amazing, doesn't it? And the description of slathering it with butter and cinnamon sugar had me drooling. I decided to whip up a loaf last night, which required 2 bottles of the good stuff, since if I'm not getting it straight from the tap, I prefer the draught version with the widgety thingamajig inside that creates a better head of foam and those bottles are 11.2 ounces.

Thank goodness I got to enjoy the vast majority of that second bottle because that bread was TERRIBLE. The fresh version gave me a stomach ache and was the consistency of library paste. I wanted to believe the hype about the toasted version, but alas, the result was the thinnest of crispy coatings and the same gummy middle. I hate to waste food, and even more, I hate to waste a good bottle of Guinness, but the Boy Scout and I agreed that there was no saving this wreck of a recipe. There's a lovely yeasty starter blobbing away in the kitchen right now. Here's to a better outcome with the ice cream!

grey day, sunny outlook

I found this poem while engaged in the Sisyphean task of cleaning my home office last weekend and thought I'd share it with y'all. It conjured up the slow summer sunrises of London and renewed my faith that we humans are connected in ways we can't begin to fathom, but some of us keep trying to see. I hope it's as powerfully evocative for you.

Blake

I watch William Blake, who spotted angels
every day in treetops
and met God on the staircase
of his little house and found light in grimy alleys--

Blake, who died
singing gleefully
in a London thronged
with streetwalkers, admirals, and miracles,

William Blake, engraver, who labored
and lived in poverty but not despair,
who received burning signs
from the sea and from the starry sky,

who never lost hope, since hope
was always born anew like breath,
I see those who walked like him on graying streets,
headed toward the dawn's rosy orchid.

Adam Zagajewski
translated from the Polish, by Claire
in The New Yorker, August 13, 2007

sin on a spoon

The recipes I post to this blog tend to be ones I've tested on hordes of people, mostly idiot-proof, and unique in some way. This mousse is the sole reason I kept the cookbook it came in, Bake and Freeze Chocolate Desserts by Elinor Klivans. I've been making it for at least a decade and it's worth the extra effort you'll spend on it.

As the book title promises, you can indeed make it in advance and freeze it. Just follow the directions exactly and you can't mess it up. (I've liberally embellished Ms. Klivans' original instructions so novices know what to do.) Oh, and you'll want to throw some pillows on the floor because there will be swooning. Lots and lots of swooning.

Pure Chocolate Mousse
ingredients

• 11 ounces semisweet chocolate* (chopped if in brick form)
• ¼ plus 1/3 cup sugar
• ¼ cup very hot water
• 3 large eggs, separated and at room temperature**
• ¼ tsp cream of tartar
• ¾ cup cold whipping cream
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• ½ tsp instant coffee granules or 2 tsp mint extract or 2 tbsp Grand Marnier + 1 tsp orange extract (optional)

* I highly recommend an 11.5 oz bag of Ghiradelli 60% cacao chocolate chips. Melts like a champ and I've never had a problem with it binding.
** Room temperature helps ensure that eggs whites become meringue instead of glop -- that, and using a super-clean metal bowl and beaters. Any smudge of butter or slick of olive oil leftover from another recipe and you'll be cursing.

instructions
If you've got a double boiler, break it out. If not, put the semisweet chocolate, ¼ cup sugar, and the hot water in a container that won't crack when heated (like a stainless steel bowl) and place it over, but not touching, a saucepan of gently simmering water. Wah-lah! A DIY double boiler! If the ingredients container doesn't have a handle, grab an oven mitt now. A dish towel won't adequately protect your hands from the heat, steam, and spitting water in the next steps.

1. Stir the mixture together until the chocolate melts and the mixture is smooth. I like using a long-handled wooden spoon for this.


2. Remove the heatproof container from over the water and quickly whisk in the egg yolks. You need to do this fast enough so the yolks don't start to cook.


3. Place the chocolate mixture back over the simmering water. Stirring constantly, cook just until the temperature reaches 160° F. on a food thermometer, about 8 minutes. The chocolate mixture will thicken and look a bit grainy when the egg yolks are added, then become shiny and smooth as it reaches 160° F. No thermometer? No problem. You'll know when it's ready when the mixture is almost too hot to touch with the tip of your pinky and starts to look plump and glossy. It may also start to follow the stirring spoon around the container a little.


4. Transfer the chocolate mixture to a large bowl and refrigerate or leave out on the counter to cool until the mixture is cool to the touch, about 20 minutes. Stir the mixture occasionally while it is cooling so that it cools evenly. When you stir it, you may notice a skin or graininess; keep stirring and this should disappear very quickly. When ready, the mixture will have a temperature of about 110° F if measured with a food thermometer. No thermometer? It will be slightly warm on the tip of your index finger. Desperate to cool it off quickly? The mixture can also be chilled in the freezer for about 10 minutes.


5. About halfway through the cooling time, put the egg whites and cream of tartar in a clean large bowl of an electric mixer and with clean dry beaters (did you notice the word "clean" shows up twice there?), beat on low speed until the egg whites are foamy. Increase the speed to medium-high, and beat just until soft peaks form. Testing for soft peaks is easy. You can stop the mixer and look for peaks in the bowl as you fit the beater(s) out, but the sure-fire method is something I picked up from PBS's "Cook's Country": take the beater off the machine, dip it in the eggs, and turn it upside-down. If the peak of the mixture arches over into a graceful swoop and doesn't fall off, it's ready. If it sticks straight up, you've beaten the eggs into the "stiff peaks" stage and should complete the next step as quickly as possible to avoid beating the air out of the whites.


6. Slowly add the 1/3 cup sugar to the beaten egg whites, 1 tablespoon at a time, sifting in a thin sheet to prevent the sugar from clumping.


7. Whisk about half of the beaten egg whites into the cooled chocolate mixture until it's smooth. I know -- it's horrifying, but don't be gentle. The point is to lighten up the chocolate mixture a little. Use a large rubber spatula to fold the remaining egg whites into the chocolate mixture. Instead of folding across the whole circumference of the bowl, work from the center, scrape to the bottom, and pull toward you and up the side -- rotating the bowl as you go.


8. Put the whipping cream, vanilla, and coffee in a clean large bowl of an electric mixer. Beat the cream at medium speed until soft peaks form. Fold the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture, making sure to get the last streaks of cream and egg white incorporated. Pour the mousse into a 1.5 - 2 quart serving bowl or single-portion dessert dishes. Smooth the top of the mousse with a knife and refrigerate until about 30 minutes before you're ready to serve.

Serves about 6 -- or you and friend over a long, luxurious weekend.
May be frozen up to 3 weeks. Cover bowl(s) with waxed paper, then wrap in heavy aluminum foil. Defrost in refrigerator overnight before serving, but don't feel guilty if you have to eat it while still frozen.