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Homemade Fig Jam

July 26, 2010 by G.

This past week, Christmas arrived early.  Without warning, our once demure, innocent, sweet fig tree who quietly welcomes us home everyday, out of the blue, let out a ferocious roarrrr! and unleashed its entire season’s pent-up bounty of fruit.  All of a sudden – all at once – gifts of perfectly wrapped plump, juicy figs were (literally) dropping out of the sky and landing squarely into our happy mouths.  Saying it’s been a good week would be the understatement of the century.  Figstacular is more like it.

So, we’ve been harvesting figs like mad, crazy people.  I think we officially have enough figs to feed the entire population of California.  They’ve taken over the kitchen, the house, our lives.  And they like to hang out everywhere.  Sitting atop my morning granola and yogurt is their new favorite spot.  Nestled in wild arugula and fennel salads or cheese platters comes in a close second.  I swear I’ve even seen them on the couch, flipping through my food magazines.  No matter how many we manage to gorge, the next day, we’re greeted with more.  Though fighting off fig-coma, I am determined – by hook or by crook – to find a way to polish off every single last one.

Duh.  Where has my head gone?  Could the answer be anymore obvious?

Homemade fig jam. The ultimate solution to tame a prolific, fruit-bearing beast.

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Homemade Fig Jam

This is my new favorite jam.  Why?  It resolves my inner sweet-savory conflict and anything capable of that, earns my respect.  It puts a bright twist on breakfast and makes the morning feel extra-special.  No standard fare jam flavors here.  And is equally delicious for dessert, drizzled over ice cream.  Works just as well, if not better, spread over hearty rustic bread (walnut in particular) and accompanied with cheese, cured meats, olives and the like.  Picnic approved for summer.

Music Pairing: Nat King Cole, Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

Ingredients

  • 2 pounds fresh, ripe figs, washed, stemmed and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
  • 1 1/4 cups sugar (more or less depending on sweetness of figs)
  • zest of 1 lemon + small squeeze of its juice
  • 2 tbsp Grand Marnier
  • pinch of kosher salt

Method

Place figs, sugar, lemon zest + juice, Grand Marnier and salt in a non-reactive, deep pot.  Let stand for 30 minutes at room temperature, stirring occasionally.  Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring often.  Continue to keep mixture at a rolling boil, stirring occasionally, for about 25 minutes or until thickened.  Keep a close eye on it to prevent jam from burning.  Gently mash fruit with a potato masher.  Spoon into favorite jam jars and allow to cool to room temperature.  Store covered in refrigerator for several weeks.

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Posted in cook | Tagged , , | 72 Comments »

Rustic Almond-Plum Galette

July 19, 2010 by G.

As the sun turns my shoulders one happy shade darker, I know Summer’s signature long, lazy afternoons are here to stay. ‘Tis the season for sipping icy cold lemonade from porch swings, napping under the shade of big, friendly oak trees and eating as many watermelons as allowed by law. I’m a card-carrying watermelon-salter. A habit, which, I’m guessing, leaves me in the minority when it comes to acceptable summertime rituals. Any closet watermelon-salters out there? Anyone?

Even if I tread alone, I still love Summer.  I love the ease of it.  I walk slower, eat slower, cook slower.  Heck, I’m cooking sooo slowwww these days that if you caught a glimpse of my-so-called ‘cooking’, it might look remarkably similar to, Err…stacking.  Or spreading.  Or tossing.  But, I don’t mind one bit.  The warm summer wind is gently flowing into the kitchen, Sinatra is playing in the background, nothing is hurried and meals have a tendency to transpire haphazardly.  Walnut pesto or herbed goat cheese slathered on a toasted, crusty baguette along side a simple green salad and thick slivers of heirloom tomatoes, paired with a chilled glass of French Rosé, all of a sudden turns into a fabulously chic and perfect meal.  Fully loaded and fuss-free.

Now, we can’t really talk about the ease and fuss-freeness of things, without a big summer nod and wink to the ultra low maintenance rustic almond-plum galette.  This free-form tart is my favorite type of dessert.  Little effort, big impact.  It’s the definition of versatility and embodies the much acclaimed ‘oouu-ahhhh‘ factor.  Even the biggest curmudgeon you know will eek out a grin with this galette.  Serve it after a casual outdoor barbecue, a fancy-pants dinner party or a regular weeknight meal.  It fits like a glove anywhere it goes.  Or, if you’re crazy like me, have it for breakfast.  Go for it…’Tis the season.

Rustic Almond-Plum Galette

Make sure to pick plums that are not overly ripe – you want these babies firm, firm, firm.  Otherwise, you’ll have a soggy mess on your hands.  Adjust the amount of sugar as necessary to satisfy your desired level of sweetness/tartness.  If you’re not a big fan of plums, feel free to pick your fruit of choice.  Mix and match.  Go nuts.  Let me know what you come up with.  I made this galette with strawberries a little while back, when strawberries were overflowing at my farmer’s market.  (Plums are now overflowing).  Actually, I made it twice.  In the same week.

Music Pairing: Frank Sinatra, Summer Wind

Ingredients

  • 1 1/4 cups + 3 tbsp all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
  • 1/2 cup very cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
  • 1/4 cup + 3 tbsp + 1/2 tsp sugar, plus more for dusting
  • 1/2 tsp kosher salt
  • 2-4 tbsp ice water
  • 1/4 cup whole, skin-on almonds, toasted
  • 5 to 6 firm plums, halved, pitted, and sliced 1/4 inch thick
  • zest of half a lemon
  • 1 egg, lightly beaten

Method

In a food processor, combine 1 1/4 cups flour, butter, 1/2 tsp sugar, and salt.  Pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal.  Add ice water, 1 tbsp at a time.  Pulse until dough is crumbly, but holds together when squeezed.  Do not overmix. Remove dough from food processor and shape into a disk.  Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.  Meanwhile, wipe bowl of food processor clean and add almonds, 3 tbsp sugar, and 2 tbsp of flour.  Pulse until ground to a coarse meal.

Preheat oven to 350°F.  In a large bowl, toss the plums with 1/4 cup sugar, 1 tbsp flour and zest of half a lemon.  Taste and add more sugar for desired sweetness and set aside.  On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough to a 13-14 inch round, about an 1/8-1/4 of inch thick.  Transfer to a parchment-lined cookie sheet (preferably without sides) and spread almond mixture over dough, leaving a two-inch border.  Spread and arrange plums on top of almond mixture.  Fold and pleat edge of dough over fruit.  Refrigerate for 20 minutes.  Brush crust with egg wash and sprinkle galette with 1-2 tablespoons of sugar.  Bake until crust is golden and underside is cooked through, about 70 minutes.  Allow to cool before slicing.

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Posted in bake | Tagged , | 61 Comments »

Coming Home

July 1, 2010 by G.

So far, I’ve moved 17 different times and lived in 17 different homes.  No, I wasn’t a military brat, nor was I raised by a band of roaming gypsies or a pack of hungry wolves.  Though, that might have been fun, too.  Instead, early moves often occurred out of necessity (displaced by war) or, later, from my own uncapped wanderlust (prompted by Siberian-esque Midwest winters).  Every few years, like clockwork, I sported a new address and a new home phone number.

My parents’ first house had white vinyl siding with faux black window shutters, along a quiet tree-lined street outside of Chicago.  I remember thinking our modest home was a modern day castle.  All that was missing was a moat. “Someday, I’ll build one for them”, I thought.  Whoever said little 6-year-old girls aren’t ambitious?  I walked 1.5 blocks to school and skipped home at high noon to watch Mighty Mouse, while mah mah, my Chinese grandmother, prepared lunch – usually leftovers of rice, soup, stir-fried greens of some sort and steamed fish, from the night before.  Every gloriously hot summer, I chased down the unmistakable anthem of the neighborhood ice cream truck and pledged my allegiance to Firecracker Popsicles.  Hours later, I fired squirt guns, ducked incoming water balloons and hurdled through our oscillating sprinkler, until I had outlasted the sun.  Then, wide-eyed and jaw-dropped I sat, as my lightning bug friends transformed the entire front yard into a flickering-pixie-dust-night-show-extravaganza set to the tune of their own silent symphony and choreographed routine.

So many small, magical childhood memories.  I thought I’d come home to that house forever.

As I log yet another new address for now, Move #18, I’d love to be able to tell you I’ve been away circumnavigating the globe Up-style or that I’ve been held under strict rules of a Witness Protection Program –as the reasons for my prolonged radio silence.  Alas, the only thing that is true, is that I’m terribly sorry I’ve been away so long.  Thank you for the cornucopia of kind emails.  I’m touched and I’ve missed you guys too.  This unexpected move back in the Bay Area feels good.  Real good.  Nearly a decade ago, I met my husband here.  We went on our first date here.  We fell in love here.  Back exploring our old stomping grounds, everything is oddly familiar, yet shiny and new.  There’s hot air balloon rides, beach picnics, county fairs, bounties of local food, wine, and of course, a backlog of new recipes to tell you about.  I barely know where to begin.

The love of my life is next to me, as we sit at the hem of the big blue Pacific with the hills of Mt. Tam behind us and the fog humming towards the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

I am home.  He is my home.

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Posted in love | Tagged , | 53 Comments »

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