When Gigi planted a fig tree on the border of her urban garden four years ago, she had no idea that it would take to the place with such ardor. But the tree settled right in to its new home, rapidly spreading upward and outward: a sprawl of great leafed branches ultimately producing hundreds of honeyed knobs of fruit. “It seems very happy here,” we both observed. “This could be the year of the fig.”

Throughout July and August, I’d get calls from Gigi, field reports you might say, about the status of the figs.

“If these all ripen, well, this is one rockin’ fig tree,” was one update.

“Thousands of figs! I picked two 5lb. baskets in less than an hour.” was another.

Over weeks, and as the summer heat became more severe, Gigi cultivated a relationship with the beloved tree; to me, it was really a reverence:

“It’s unbearably hot, and I keep telling her how wonderful she is, making all this fruit.” She set up a special watering system, “I told her I’d take care of her. I know she’s thirsty.”

To date, She has produced enough figs to make 100 pints of preserves. One hundred pints from a four-year-old tree! It seems unimaginable—

but true! Despite temperatures stuck in the nineties and rainfall spare, Gigi’s mighty fig tree became so laden with plump fruit you could easily pick a basketful in no time at all.

Which, given the intense heat and the sticky milky mess that you get allover your hands and arms from picking, was a very good thing.

Gigi set up a system of ladders and planks within the inner sanctum of the tree, cloaked under the leafy branches. It was with childlike glee that I clambered up and around the limbs, concealed from the outer world, immersed in the heady enclave of fig leaves and fruit.

And, soon, I had picked a large bowlful of figs, most dark purple, some yellow-green with a flush of rouge, all exquisite, ripe, and beautiful.

It was time to try something new with my fig bounty. Last year, I made luscious preserves with Maggie. Gigi had already been playing with different recipes: cutting back on the sugar, adding ginger to some batches, orange juice in another, and white balsamic vinegar in yet another. All methods were cooked on the stovetop. While each batch was delicious, none had the figgy caramel syrup she was seeking.

Then, one afternoon, I got a text: “Roasting is the way.”

Why, of course! But wait, another text followed–

“No olive oil. Sugar and white balsamic vinegar only. 425 degrees.”

A-ha! (Love the economy of a texted recipe.)

After carefully rinsing my figs, I placed them on a baking sheetpan, along with a few wedges of lemon–my addition. Then, I dusted with sugar, sprinkled white balsamic vinegar over the batch, and put them into that hot oven to roast. It didn’t take long—ten minutes or so—and the figs got puffed and charred, coated in a rich caramel created from melting of the sugar, vinegar, and natural fig juices. It was amazing.

After scraping into jars, I processed some in a hot water bath, as I had with Maggie’s figs, but kept one jar in the fridge–ready for this pizza I’ve been dreaming about since we first made it last year, about this time.

Covered with roasted figs, shaved gorgonzola, leeks, and ripples of prosciutto, this is one dreamy pizza. And, don’t forget–A few sprigs of rosemary, and drizzle of the figgy syrup takes the dream to wonderland.

ROASTED FIG-PROSCIUTTO-GORGONZOLA PIZZA

PIZZA DOUGH:
1 pkg. Dry Active Yeast (2 t.)
1 c. warm Water
1 3/4 c. Unbleached All Purpose Flour
1/2 c. Rye Flour
2 t. Sea Salt
1 T. Olive Oil

Sprinkle yeast into bowl of water, stir well, and let stand for 5 minutes to activate the yeast. Combine yeast water in a mixing bowl with flours, salt, olive oil. Mix until it forms into a ball. It will be moist, but not sticky. Cover and allow to rise for one hour.

Transfer dough to lightly floured work surface. Divide into two and form into balls. Cover and refrigerate, if you are not going to use immediately.
Otherwise, let stand out for 30 minutes, then roll out into whatever pizza shape—round, oblong, rectangle—suits you. Use additional flour, as needed, to prevent sticking.

Cover with toppings, and bake in a very hot oven–450 degrees–until browned and bubbly–10 minutes.

TOPPINGS:
Roasted Figs and their syrup
Sliced Prosciutto
Diced Leeks
Shaved (or crumbled) Gorgonzola Cheese
Fresh Rosemary

Two resolutions intersect nicely in this post. (I enjoy the economy of a such a thing! ) Desiring both to incorporate more whole grains in our diet AND bake more bread, I’d like to share a couple of truly simple and delicious recipes that are done on the fly—in terms of bread-time. Neither requires extensive pre-planning.

One is Brown Irish Soda Bread, here just in time for Saint Patrick’s Day. Whole wheat and rye flours are mixed in with unbleached white, which gives added dimension of flavor to Ireland’s national dish, without added heaviness. A handful of currants are just right for a little pop of sweet, pleasant background interest.

From start to finish, this baking project takes under an hour, and rewards your efforts with two pretty loaves.

Maggie and I baked this together in her kitchen, and used her buttermilk. What a good find! Organically produced, it was not reduced in fat; its rich, luxurious pour contributed to the bread’s supple texture and subtle tang. If you can find whole buttermilk, I recommend it.

Rather than make one large loaf, we divided the dough into two rounds. We brushed a little melted butter over the top and sprinkled some currants before placing in the oven to bake. And then, we waited—-but not long. Just enough time to brew up a small pot of coffee…..

Who knew that so few ingredients could make something so good?

The other is Focaccia, such an easy yeasted, flatbread! With minimal kneading, it only has to rise once!

Again, combining a variety flours, I baked this one with a topping of frizzled leeks, olive oil, and flakes of crystally Maldon Salt.

If you don’t have leeks, use uncooked chopped green onion, which I like almost as much. It reminds me of focaccia used for grilled sandwiches in a little corner cafe in North Beach, San Francisco:
Mario’s Bohemian Cigar Store Cafe.

I discovered Mario’s Bohemian over fifteen years ago, a charming, odd angled neighborhood bar with a minimal menu—terrific sandwiches made with a green onion-flecked focaccia that was freshly baked in the ‘hood, and brought in daily. (I loved the sandwich with grilled eggplant.)

Even though it’s kinda touristy now, it’s so small and still retains its community sense of place. You can get a great cuppa Graffeo coffee there too….beans roasted just up the street.

Of course, the bread is delicious by itself, or as an accompaniment to a bowl of soup. But you might want to try it as a grilled sandwich, in the Mario’s Bohemian manner. Yesterday, Bill had his with this bowl of tomato-vegetable; I had mine open-faced, with a slice of roast beef topped with horseradish cream sauce and greens. We were both very happy.

Frizzled Leek Foccacia
3 Cups Flour: 1 ¼ c. Unbleached All Purpose
1 cup Whole Wheat Flour
¾ c. Rye Flour
1 pkg. Active Dry Yeast
1 cup tepid Water
3 T. Olive Oil
1 T. Honey
1 T. Red Wine (opt.)
1 t. Salt

1 Leek, sliced thinly, sauteed briefly in olive oil and salt
Olive Oil
Sea Salt, Maldon Salt

Stir water and yeast together in a bowl. Add olive oil, honey, salt, wine. Stir in flours until all is incorporated, forms a sticky ball. I added a little wine and honey to this, to give the yeast a little something more to eat. It seemed to enjoy it, and got well activated.

Gently knead for a few minutes to help release glutens.

Cover and allow to rise at least 45 minutes.

Turn out onto oiled baking sheet pan, and gently press out to all sides. Spread leeks over the top, dust with salt flakes, drizzle with a little olive oil. Cover again while you wait for the oven to heat: Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until top and bottom of flatbread is brown. Remove from oven and allow to cool.

Brown Irish Soda Bread with Currants
1 ½ cup Unbleached All Purpose Flour
1 ½ cup Whole Wheat Flour
¾ cup Rye Flour
1 t. Baking Soda
1 t. Salt
1 T. Brown Sugar
½ -1 cup dried Currants
2 cups Buttermilk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl. Make a well and pour in buttermilk and currants. Begin working the liquid throughout the flour, dough will be a little wet and sticky, scone-like. Turnout onto work surface and lightly knead. If it’s too wet, add a little flour. Divide and form into 2 balls.

With a sharp knife, score an X across the top, bringing the knife to the edges. This will help the bread rise evenly. Place onto a buttered baking sheet pan and place into the oven.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, until done. The rounds of bread will have a hollow sound when thumped.

Slice and serve warm with a slap of butter on it, and enjoy with a cup of coffee or tea. To the Luck of the Irish!

It has been at least eight years since we’ve had REAL snow in Nashville, the kind that starts in the morning as flurries and builds throughout the day, big fat clusters tumbling down, blanketing the trees, the front yards, the roads, diffusing light, muffling sound…. ultimately bringing the city to a standstill.

Wow. It got really quiet.

And, while I was home, cozy (and succumbing to a headcold), I decided to enjoy the snowy shut-down by making simple comforts: bread and soup.

I had enough of the necessary ingredients: and handful of vegetables for the soup pot, some flour and an unexpired package of dry yeast for bread. These are, after all, basic foods.

With broccoli as the star, mirepoix the reliable supporting players, and potatoes comprising the creamy base, it doesn’t take long to make this hearty soup. It also isn’t essential that you add any dairy to achieve richness, although a modest cupful of lowfat milk added at the end is rather nice. A few shavings of sharp white cheddar, too.

But this is a much lighter version of Broccoli-Cheddar that is often served out in the world, all floury and cheesy and fat-laden.
The potatoes add the creaminess, body to the soup. As they cook along, they all but disappear.

like under a blanket of snow.

Chunks of potatoes will break down, adding flavor and body to the soup.

The soup is beginning to thicken, a good time to add the broccoli florets.

Creamy Broccoli Soup
3 T. Olive Oil
4 medium Russet Potatoes, peeled and diced
1 head Broccoli, stems and florets separated, stems chopped
2 medium Onions, chopped
3 Carrots, chopped
3 Celery, chopped
3 cloves Garlic, minced
3 1/2 qts. vegetable stock, or water
Salt-n-Peppa to taste
1 cup lowfat Milk
1/2 cup shredded Vermont Cheddar

Warm olive oil in a stockpot on medium heat. Sauté the diced potatoes for 5 minutes. Add broccoli stems and the mirepoix (carrots-onions-celery) and stir into the mix, sauteing another 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and season with salt and black pepper.

The vegetables will begin to soften, and stick to the bottom and sides of the pot. Keep stirring, then add the vegetable stock (or water)

The soup will get a glazy thickness to it. Add the broccoli florets to cook into the batch last. Once they are softened, taste for salt and pepper. Stir in a cup of milk and some shredded Vermont Cheddar for added dairy richness and tang.

And now, for the bread part…….

The thing about bread is Time.

That’s all. And it’s not time where You are actually doing anything—it’s the yeast that’s doing all the work. After you mix up the dough, you just have to check in on periodically, give it a punch, knead it and leave it be. And, put it in the oven to bake.

So, I amend that—it’s really about Patience. It’s worth it. I would like to bake bread more than I do—I am not mindful enough to put it into the plan of a day. And while the recipe for this Rosemary Cracked Wheat Bread is not exceptional, I share it to encourage you.(and myself!) It’s not hard. It’s fun. And, delicious. Just simply to get in the kitchen and bake!

Serve the crusty loaf warm, with a slap of butter on it.
Or, get out your fave olive oil, dress it up with a few strips of sundried tomatoes, polka dots of balsamic….carve a little parmegiano-reggiano….

Rosemary-Cracked Wheat Bread

1 cup warm Water
1 package Active Dry Yeast
1 T. sugar
2 t. Sea Salt
2 T. Olive Oil
1 cup Cracked Wheat Flour
1 1/2 -2 cups Unbleached White Flour
2 T. chopped fresh Rosemary

Stir yeast and sugar into warm water. Yeast will begin to activate–bubble. Add salt and olive oil. Add cracked wheat flour and at least 1 cup of the unbleached white flour and make a soft dough. (add more white flour if necessary.) Knead until elastic. Form into a ball and place into a bowl. Cover with a damp cloth and allow to rise in a warm place for an hour. Punch down again, reform into a ball.

Score with a knife, sort of criss-cross fashion.
Brush with olive oil, sprinkle with coarse sea salt and chopped rosemary.
Let rise for another 45 minutes.

Bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes. Crust with be nicely golden and the bread will “thunk.”

I wanted to share this ensemble recipe with you, made recently for another of our community pot luck dinners, because its elements lend themselves to so many tasty variations.

Here we’ve got smoked pork loin, peach chutney, sauteed arugula layered on one of the South’s best culinary contributions: the corncake. I made these “pick-up” size, so that you can enjoy bitter, sweet, smoky, and savory pretty much in two bites. This particular combination was based on ingredients I had on hand. It’s got a nice season-transition feel. And, color!

But, using the corncake as the base, you should feel free to improvise. Sauteed kale, chard, or collards would work equally well. Try ham or smoked turkey for the meat.

And, the beauty of chutneys is that it’s really hard to make a bad one, provided you have good ingredients used in a good ratio. The chutney recipe below is a guideline, ready for substitutions. With pears and apples coming onto the seasonal market, I’m sure I’ll be making chutney with those, paired with cranberries. Different chili peppers and sweet peppers are welcome additions. Have fun with it.

And, if nothing else, enjoy this corncake recipe. Make ‘em BIG for dinner. They are delicious, too, with bits of corn, chilis, or cheese mixed in….

Happy Fall to all!

Baby Corncakes
1 ½ cups Cornmeal (can be yellow or white corn meal)
1 cup All Purpose Flour (make sure it is All Purpose, NOT Self-Rising)
1 Tablespoon Baking Powder
½ teaspoon Salt
1 Tablespoon Sugar
1 ½ sticks (12 tablespoons) melted Butter
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 cups lowfat milk

skillet

In a mixing bowl, add the dry ingredients (the first 5 ingredients) and whisk them together.
In a separate bowl, mix the eggs, butter, and milk.
Add to the bowl of dry ingredients.
Stir until well blended and smooth, but do not overbeat.
Heat skillet and ladle out batter–about 1 Tablespoon size per corncake–and cook as you would pancakes–flipping after the edges brown.

Makes about 4 dozen baby corncakes.

Add-ins: kernel corn, or minced jalapeno peppers, or green onions, or shredded cheddar cheese folded into the batter before baking!

White Peach-Blueberry Chutney
3 fresh white peaches
1 fresh Serrano chili pepper
2 T. grated fresh ginger root
3 T. brown sugar
1 T. cider vinegar
1/3 cup blueberries

Place sliced peaches, peppers into a saucepan and slowly cook these down together for about 15-20 minutes on low heat, breaking up the peaches as you stir. Stir in ginger root, brown sugar, cider vinegar and blueberries. Continue to cook until the mixture has a coarse but glazed appearance.

Cooks Notes:

The white peaches were a novelty–a pleasant surprise at our farmers market. Use whatever good peaches are available.

The arugula was especially pungent–mature—and I sauteed it in a little olive oil, with minced garlic and onion, and a little salt. I didn’t add any red pepper flakes, which I often do with cooked greens, as the arugula was already peppery.

One of my daughter’s favorite books growing up was Bunnicula, the tale of a vampire rabbit who sucked the juices out of vegetables, leaving behind ghostly versions of carrots, beets, celery, and such.

I was reminded of that hilarious story recently when we had a strawberry tasting at our farmer’s market. We offered market goers samples of commercially grown California berries and ones that were organically grown by Delvin Farms here in College Grove, Tennessee. As I was helping to quarter the strawberries into bite size pieces, I couldn’t help but marvel at the difference. Our local berries were small to medium sized, juicy, and red all the way through. The commercial counterparts from California were larger, firmer, with somewhat hollowed interiors drained of all color.

The mark of the vampire rabbit!

“These,” I told my fellow strawberry tasting volunteer, “are Bunnicula Strawberries!”

The Delvins little heart shaped strawberries were easy winners in the tasting. Poor Bunniculas!
Based on just the visual, some people opted not to try the Californias. Others noted, with surprise, that they were sweeter than the locals, but definitely not Strawberrier.

When you buy local berries, it’s best to eat them or cook with them within days; they are perfectly ripe when picked. And that time is now! For a few short weeks, they will be available.
I treat strawberries the same as tomatoes—no refrigeration. (unless absolutely necessary!) It would be a shame to let them go to waste because they languished on the counter a day or two too long.

But with so many delicious possibilities—in fruit salads, green salads; paired with goat cheese and almonds; pureed into coulis, layered into shortcakes, pudding cakes, or just eaten plain–pure delight–
that’s not likely to happen. (This means more strawberry recipes are to come…)

Here’s one of my favorite Strawberriest treats: this features a double whammy of strawberry—-
sliced strawberry bread slathered with strawberry cream cheese!

Very Strawberry Finger Sandwiches
Strawberry Bread spread with Strawberry Cream Cheese

Strawberry Bread (makes 1 loaf)
1 pint Strawberries, cleaned, hulled, stems removed, sliced and chopped
¼ cup Brown Sugar
2 teaspoon Lemon Zest
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
½ cup sugar
½ cup vanilla yogurt
2 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
1½ cups all purpose flour

Preheat oven at 325 degrees. Coat loaf pan with baking spray.
In a bowl, mix strawberries, brown sugar, and zest together. Set aside.
In another bowl, sift flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda together.
In a mixer fitted with a paddle, cream the butter and sugar together. Add yogurt. Scrape bowl sides and beat in eggs. Fold in strawberry mixture. Then add dry ingredients. Mix until well blended. Pour into loaf pan and bake in the middle of the oven for 70 minutes. Allow to cool before removing from pan.

Strawberry Cream Cheese
In a mixing bowl, beat together:
1 lb. softened cream cheese
1 ½ cups chopped fresh ripe strawberries
1 teaspoon lemon or orange zest
2 Tablespoons sugar (optional)

Slice strawberry bread into thin slices, 12-14 slices per loaf.
Spread half the slices with strawberry cream cheese and top with remaining slices.
Cut into rectangles or triangles. Makes about 2 dozen.