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.

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.

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.

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.

Luckily, not a single ‘t’, nor ‘h’ plays a part in Irish Brown Bread.

Though I shouldn’t worry – little is muttered from my Irishman’s mouth when he sniffs out freshly baked Brown Bread.  (Not to be confused with Irish Soda Bread, which is purely an Americanized version and does not exist anywhere in Ireland).  He can freakishly devour an entire loaf with silent precision and speed.  Slathered with a good helping of salted Irish butter and homemade jam for breakfast, topped with smoked salmon, capers and red onions for lunch and served along side a bowl of soup for a light supper are his favorite variations.  I like mine served simply – warm with butter, along side a big cup of Barry’s Irish tea.

It happens to be Paddy’s Day, but this Irish Brown Bread is baked year round, tru tick and tin, in dis house.  Irish eyes are smiling for it.

Irish Brown Bread, yields 1 loaf

I never have buttermilk when I need it, but for this bread, as the luck of the Irish would have it – Homemade Buttermilk only requires two ingredients I always have on-hand, and produces a far tastier and superior tasting loaf than its pricier supermarket equivalent.

Another thing I love about this brown bread is that I can wake up in the morning, and a mere hour later, pull a fresh loaf of bread out of the oven, just in time for breakfast.  Yeast-free, speedy as can be and like Lucky Charms – magically delicious.

Music Pairing: John McCormack, When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

Ingredients

• 3 1/2 cups whole wheat flour, preferably stone ground (the coarser, the better)
• 2 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 4 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
• 1/2 cup finely ground old fashioned oats
• 1 1/3 cups whole milk
• 1/3 cup apple-cider vinegar

Method

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a baking pan with parchment paper.  For Homemade Buttermilk:  Mix milk and vinegar in a small bowl, and let stand until thickened, about 5-10 minutes.

Whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda in a large bowl.  Cut in butter with a pastry cutter or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal.  Stir in ground oatmeal.

Pour milk mixture into flour mixture; stir until dough just holds together but is still sticky. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface. Knead gently about 4-5 times.  Pat, press and shape dough gently into a round, dome-shaped loaf, about 6-7 inches in diameter. Transfer to prepared baking pan.

Lightly dust top of loaf with flour. With a sharp knife, cut an X into the top, 3/4 inch deep. Bake, rotating halfway through, until loaf is golden brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour.  Allow to cool on wire rack.

No, the entire month.  In our humble abode, we’re dare devils – no bibs required.

Through the frantic phone calls from family and friends out East, I’m acutely aware that winter is still rearing its cold, ugly head in parts.  But in our neck of the woods, spring has arrived early.  The once lanky cherry blossom trees in our front garden, purchased for $12 each and haphazardly plopped into the ground, are now thriving, strong and have nearly tripled in size.  The buds are gearing up to bloom, well ahead of schedule.  It’s a flurry of activity, with the azaleas, magnolias, hyacinth, tulips, and rhodies not far behind.  They’re all growing up so fast, which makes me one proud mama.  With spring in the air and skipping through my head, it’s no wonder I came home from the market with a big bouquet of daffodils, and an even bigger bouquet of asparagus.

Forget the Wheaties.  This is the Dinner of Champions.

Dungeness Crab and Grilled Asparagus with Lemon-Caper Vinaigrette, serves 4

Music Pairing:  Queen, We Are The Champions

Ingredients

• 1 lb fresh asparagus, trimmed
• 1 tbsp drained capers
• 3 tbsp minced flat-leaf parsley
• 2 tbsp finely chopped shallots
• 3 tsp freshly grated lemon zest
• 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• toasted pinenuts
• grated Parmesan cheese

Method

Prepare vinaigrette.  Mix shallots, lemon zest, lemon juice, capers and parsley in a small bowl.  Whisk in the olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Set aside.

Brush gill pan with 1 tsp of olive oil on medium-high heat.  Grill asparagus, turning often, until just tender.  Do not overcook.

Transfer grilled asparagus to warm plate and drizzle with prepared vinaigrette.  Sprinkle with toasted pine nuts and top with grated Parmesan.

I grew up with these Vietnamese Spring Rolls.  I remember sitting around a big table, or sometimes on a big blanket spread out on the floor, surrounded by my aunties, uncles, and cousins for hours rolling and munching down on these babies.  I can still hear sounds of hearty laughter, constant chatter and joy.  So much joy.  When I think of these spring rolls, I feel nothing but love for family and the tastes and nostalgia of the Vietnam we left behind.  Plus, they’re so dang tast-eeeee!  I promise, you’ll never eat just one.  You can substitute the shrimp for your protein of choice (anything thinly sliced and grilled) and the veggies for whichever ones you love most.  Please don’t forget the Hoisin Peanut Dipping Sauce.  For me, it’s the mother of all sauces.

To read the full feature, article and recipe, head on over here.   Thank you so much, Grace and Kristina!

Many have followed in the footsteps of parents, grandparents and great-grandparents who paved the way for local agriculture, and now, organic farming and sustainable farming practices.  Our market proudly displays small, family farmers with big community spirit, talented artists, musicians, and even, a lovable little pony for the kiddies (and adults).

Strolling through the market this time of year means only one thing:  Potatoes.  And more potatoes.  That is, if you happen to see the market through my husband’s eyes.  As many of you are well aware, I live with an Irishman.  He knows a thing or two about potatoes.  This soup is all him.  I love him for that.

My heart swells some more.

Market Day Potato and Leek Soup, yields 4-6 servings

You want leftovers of this soup.  LOADS of leftovers.

Music Pairing:  U2, Staring at the Sun

Ingredients

• 1 lb fresh leeks
• 1-1 1/2 lbs potatoes, diced
• 2 bay leaves
• 20 black peppercorns
• 4 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 5 cups organic chicken stock
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 3/4 teaspoon pepper
• 1/2 cup whole milk
• plain yogurt
• parsley or chives

Method

Halve the white portions of the leeks lengthwise and rinse under cold running water.  Clean thoroughly.  Slice thinly crosswise and set aside.  Prepare bouquet garni by placing bay leaves, peppercorns and thyme together in a small piece of cheesecloth.  Bundle and tie with string.  Set aside.

In a large pot over medium heat, melt butter.  Add the chopped leeks and cook until wilted, about 5 minutes.  Add the reserved bouquet garni, chicken stock, potatoes, salt and pepper, and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 30 minutes, or until the potatoes are falling apart.

Remove the bouquet garni.  Working in small batches, puree the soup in a blender.  Secure lid tightly and place towel over lid for extra protection.  Stir in milk and adjust to taste.  Serve immediately with a big dollop of yogurt and chopped parsley/chives.

Fresh creamery butter.  Though my husband’s Irish, he does a pretty convincing British accent.  Especially when he mimics Hugh Jackman’s character of Leopold, an English baron from the 1870′s.

Fresh creamery but-ta.

Good stuff.  Go make this fresh creamery butter.  If there’s heavy cream lurking in the house, perhaps leftover from this weekend’s rice pudding, now you know what to do with it.  Whipping cream works just fine too.  Now, I must go start on that brioche.

Homemade Organic Butter, yields 5.5 ounces

Though I normally buy unsalted butter, I’d definitely recommend adding a few pinches of salt to this homemade version.  Not only will it be tastier, the salt also helps the butter keep longer.

Music Pairing:  Black Eyed Peas, I Gotta Feeling

Ingredients

• 2 cups organic heavy cream or whipping cream
• pinches of salt, to taste

Method

Pour cream into food processor and process for about 10 minutes.  It will turn to a thick whipped cream, and then separate, leaving the butter and remaining liquid, which is buttermilk.  Strain the buttermilk into a jar, cover and refrigerate for later use.

Scrape butter from the sides and place into a clean bowl.  Cover with very cold water and pour into a strainer, discarding the liquid.  Continue rinsing with cold water until the water runs clear.  The cloudy water is buttermilk which will make the butter turn sour.  When the butter is clean, work with a rubber spatula to press out any remaining liquid.  Discard liquid.  Add salt to taste.

Transfer butter to a container for keeping, pressing with a rubber spatula to dispel any air bubbles.  Cover and refrigerate.

]]> http://kissmyspatula.com/2010/02/01/homemade-organic-butter/feed/ 96 G. organic_homemade_butter homemade_butter_03 homemade_butter_04 homemade_butter_06 homemade_organic_butter07 Share http://kissmyspatula.com/2010/01/19/homemade-french-baguettes/ http://kissmyspatula.com/2010/01/19/homemade-french-baguettes/#comments Tue, 19 Jan 2010 08:33:19 +0000 G. http://kissmyspatula.com/?p=5090 ]]> On our last trip to Paris, my husband and I rented a little pied-à-terre, graced with a balcony facing magnificent centuries-old buildings, brightly-colored tiny shops, and a friendly street.  Most mornings, straight out of bed, I’d scamper over to the balcony, fling open the vintage double doors to hear, just below, the laughter of school children and, on Sundays, the ringing of church bells.  This was a real Parisian neighborhood, void of tourists and crowds –and full of simple, everyday life (and baguettes).

Baguettes are a stylish accessory in Paris –chic Parisian briefcases, minus the hefty price tag.  More than a handful of boulangeries nestle along our narrow street, filling each turn with the beautifully addicting smell of freshly baked pain au chocolat, brioche and baguettes.  Ou la la…it’s my ultimate version of heaven.  Though simultaneously, it’s torture.  Torture, knowing soon I’d be on a plane and lose access to my vast pool of Parisian pushers, who happily supplied me with my daily fix.  I’m a junkie.  A baguette junkie.  I don’t know when it all started, but I have a sneaky suspicion my loving Dad turned me onto this addiction at an alarmingly young age.  He’s the kingpin, and known to disown family members who consume, at their peril, one too many less-than-stellar baguettes.

I’m not that bad.  But I knew I had to get my addiction under control.  More times than I’d like to admit, I tried mastering the elusive baguette at home, testing out crazy antics to achieve a dark-golden, crispy, crackly crust, coupled with the the perfect elongated shape, and failing miserably in the process.  Luckily, I’m as stubborn as I am foolish, so finally, finally, I’ve cracked the code for baking homemade baguettes.  The key?  A long, cold fermentation similar to that used for my favorite whole-wheat bread, with the addition of a hot steamy bath.  I want to (literally) throw a party after pulling these babies out of the oven.  It’s an occasion worth celebrating when four simple, rudimentary ingredients – flour, salt, water, yeast – are capable of such a Herculean feat.  I feel nothing but joy…pure joy!  I’ll invite Dad to the party, as I know even he’d approve of these baguettes, especially served warm with a good slathering of French butter.

Then again, I might keep them a secret, so I can close my eyes, and visit our balcony in Paris whenever I need my fix.

Homemade French Baguettes, yields four 16-inch baguettes
Tweaked from Artisan Breads Every Day, Peter Reinhart

I can’t be entirely sure whether it made the critical difference or not, but I used this pan, instead of a baking sheet.  Also, don’t be alarmed by the extensive instructions – there’s a lot of waiting time and a bit of planning involved, but everything else is pretty simple.  Just please, please be extra careful when pouring in the hot water for the steam pan (see below in ‘Prepare for Hearth Baking’ section for more detail).  Steaming water WILL splatter, so I definitely recommend using a watering can with a long spout, standing back and covering up those arms and hands!

Music Pairing: Yann Tiersen, La Noyee

Ingredients

• 5 1/2 cups unbleached bread flour
• 2 tsp salt, or 1 tbsp coarse kosher salt
• 2 1/4 tsp instant yeast
• 2 cups lukewarm water (about 95 degrees)

Method

Prep Day: Combine all ingredients in bowl of mixer, set with paddle attachment, and mix on lowest speed for 1 minute until well blended and smooth.  Dough should form a coarse, shaggy ball.  Let rest, uncovered for 5 minutes.  Switch to dough hook and mix on medium-low speed for 2 minutes.  Dough should be smooth, supple, and tacky but not sticky.

Knead dough by hand on lightly floured work surface for 1 minute, then transfer to a large clean, lightly oiled bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap and immediately refrigerate overnight or up to 4 days.

Baking Day: Remove dough from refrigerator 2 hours prior to baking.  Gently transfer to lightly floured work surface, taking care to degas it as little as possible.  Divide dough into 10-ounce pieces for baguettes.

Form Baguettes: Pat each piece of divided dough into a thick rectangle.  Fold the bottom half to the center and seal the seam.  Fold the top half to the center and once again seal the seam.  Roll the top half of the dough over the seam to create a new seam on the bottom of the loaf.  Rock loaf back and forth to extend it to desire length, 6-12 inches.  Let rest for 5-10 minutes.  Repeat the same folding process:  bottom to center, top to center, and pinch to create a seam.  With seam side underneath, gently rock loaf back and forth, with hands moving out toward and increasing pressure at the ends, to slightly taper the loaf until baguette is the length of baguette pan (or baking sheet).

Mist top of dough with spray oil, loosely cover with plastic wrap, and proof at room temperature (preferably in a couche, or improvise on a clean linen towel, dusted with flour – leaving 3 inches between loaves so fabric can be bunched up to create “walls” for support while proofing – I placed my prepared towel and loaves on my baguette pan to further aid in keeping its shape, as shown above) for about 1 1/2 hours, or until increased to 1 1/2 times its original size.

Prepare for Hearth Baking: About 45 minutes before baking, preheat oven to 450 degrees.  Place a sheet pan, which will serve as the steam pan, with a 1-inch rim on shelf under which baguettes will be baked.  Remove plastic wrap from the dough 15 minutes prior to baking.  Gently roll dough onto baguette pan.  Just prior to baking, score the dough 1/2 inch deep with a serrated knife or razor.  Transfer loaves to the oven, pour 1 cup hot water into the steam pan.  Always use an oven mitt and wear long sleeves when adding water to the hot steam pan to prevent steam burns.  It’s also advisable to cover the oven window with a dry dish towel to prevent backsplash from hitting the window and cracking it – but remember to remove the towel before closing oven door!  Using a watering can with a long spout when pouring the water into the steam pan provides control and distance from the hot steam.

Bake for 12 minutes, then rotate pan and bake for another 15-25 minutes, until the crust is rich golden brown, the loaves sound hollow when thumped, and the internal temperature is about 200 degrees in the center.  Cool on wire rack for at least 35 minutes before slicing or serving.  Best eaten the same day, or heated briefly in the oven the next day if crust loses its crispness.

Well…okay, I take that back.

I adore, in particular, exactly two, things about winter.  One: the peak of the citrus season.  Two: dungeness crab, and more dungeness crab (but I’ll save that for another time).  Back to the citrus.  My parents sent us a gigantic crate of juice-filled oranges and grapefruits, from a grower in Texas they’ve been loyal customers to for years.  It landed at our doorstep the day before Christmas, and our juicer has been working over-time ever since.  Even a simple breakfast of toast and jam, feels like something special, when accompanied by a tall, handsome glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.  But nothing, absolutely nothing, tops my love for satsumas.  These miniature oranges, or mandarins, become the go-to snack around the house this time of year.  The bite of each wedge is like a small burst of sunshine.  A filled bowl, is quickly, an empty one.

For me, satsumas are perfect, just as they are.  So, imagine my excitement when I discovered their perfection could be pushed upward, yet, another notch.  Forget a burst of sunshine!  When I had my first spoonful of this satsuma sorbet, a supernova literally exploded in my mouth.  The operatic sweet-tart balancing act deserves a standing ovation, and with each spoonful, spring feels closer.  Who ever said icy treats should only be enjoyed in the middle of July?  (And who knew my affection for pineapple sorbet could be surpassed so soon)?  As far as winter is concerned, I won’t cast my vote – just yet.  She’s making a fierce comeback, and I suspect, Victor Hugo knew about this sorbet, long before I did.

Satsuma Sorbet, yields approximate 1 quart
Tweaked from Into the Vietnamese Kitchen, Andrea Nguyen

Dial back on the sugar for the simple syrup, if you enjoy things more tart than sweet.  Likewise, you can leave the measurements as is, and stir in 3/4 of the simple syrup first.  Taste, and then proceed to add the remainder, a bit at a time, until your desired sweetness is reached.  Don’t forget to save a few satsuma peels, dry them in a cold oven for a few days, and once completely dried, pop them into a ziploc for future use.

Music Pairing: Aretha Franklin, Hello Sunshine

Ingredients

• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 cup water
• 2 1/2 cups fresh satsuma juice (about 14-16 fruits, depending on size)
• 6 tbsp fresh lime juice

Method

To make simple syrup, whisk together sugar and water in a small saucepan.  Place over medium heat and bring to a boil.  Boil for about 30 seconds, or until sugar is dissolved and mixture is clear.  Remove from heat and let cool completely.

Stir together simple syrup, satsuma juice, and lime juice.  Taste and add more lime juice if needed to create a strong sweet-tart balance.  Strain through a fine-mesh sieve positioned over a medium sized bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 24 hours to chill well and allow for flavors to develop.

Freeze mixture in an ice-cream maker according to manufacturer’s instructions.  Eat right away if you like your sorbet on the softer side.  For an icier treat, leave it in the freezer for 3-4 hours before serving.