Doris and Jilly Cook » fruit

Perfect Persimmon Pudding

dorisandjilly — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 02:25:58 +0000

What ho! Is that a chocolate torte? Why, no! It’s a persimmon pudding, a rare and exquisite dessert rarely seen outside of West Virginia, Kentucky, Southern Indiana, and Southern Illinois. Native persimmons don’t travel well, so you’re unlikely to encounter a persimmon pudding far from where the fruit grows.

OK: Exquisite might be a bit much. But it is my absolute favorite holiday dessert—and if you’re from the Ohio Valley, chances are, it’s yours, too. My story is pretty much the same as everyone else’s. My grandmother made a killer persimmon pudding from trees on her and her neighbors’ property. When she died, I ended up with her persimmon pudding pan, but somehow my pudding never quite turned out right. For several years in a row, I dutifully mixed up persimmon pulp (courtesy of my mother and trees near my folks’ farm), eggs, sugar, and various canned milk products, but instead of persimmon pudding I got persimmon glop. And nasty glop at that.

Enough’s enough, I decided. You can be loyal to a taste memory without being loyal to the recipe. Which is how I ended up at PersimmonPudding.com, a wonderfully earnest site dedicated to—you guessed it—all things persimmon. Never before have I seen almost two dozen persimmon pudding recipes assembled in one place. Most of these are community-cookbook style recipes, heavy on the sugar and evaporated milk. Look carefully at the bottom of the list, though, and you’ll notice an oddity: a recipe from Deborah Madison. Yes, that Deborah Madison, she of Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, right there alongside the Indiana Nut Growers’ Association and “relatives of Grandma Bertha.” Who knows what on earth she’s doing there, but it’s a fine recipe with just your basic ingredients: butter, persimmons, sugar, eggs, vanilla, milk, salt, flour, and baking soda (skip the cinnamon).

But just to make it interesting, I tried cooking this in the pressure cooker instead of either the oven, which was fully occupied with a Hanukkah turkey (don’t ask), or on the stove top (Madison’s recommendation, which I had never heard of). I had read somewhere that you could make steamed puddings and custards in the pressure cooker, and was anxious to give it a try. IT WAS BRILLIANT. Steaming a pudding in the pressure cooker solves many problems. Your pudding is guaranteed to cook evenly; you don’t have to worry about oven tetris; and it’s faster and uses less energy than stovetop cooking. I’m trying to convince my mom to try this this year for Christmas, though it will mean that we’ll have a bowl-shaped pudding instead of the round-pan version that’s traditional in our house. Whether she decides to take this route or not, I’m just thrilled that I have finally made a persimmon pudding worth sharing with my friends.

Deborah Madison’s Steamed Persimmon Pudding, adapted for the Pressure Cooker

1/2 cup butter
1 c. native persimmon puree (do not use Asian persimmons—see note)
1 c. sugar
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1/2 c. milk
1/2 t. salt
1 c. flour
2 t. baking soda

1) First, confirm that you’re working with native persimmon pulp. Chances are, it will be frozen, but it will look something like this:

2) Melt the butter. Take some of it and very generously grease the insides of a pudding mold or bowl. I used a Bundt pan, but any heat-proof bowl that fits inside a pressure cooker will work:

3) Mix the wet ingredients in one bowl and the dry ingredients in another. Gently stir the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Pour the batter into the bowl or mold.

4) Place a steamer rack inside your pressure cooker, and pour in 2 c. of water. Tightly cover the mold or bowl with foil, and place it on top of the rack, like this:

5) Lock the pressure cooker lid, but don’t apply the pressure regulator. Turn up the heat and let steam escape through the steam vent for 15 minutes. CAREFULLY place the regulator on the vent. If you have an adjustable pressure regulator, use 10 pounds; if not, 15 pounds is fine. Bring to pressure and cook 35 minutes (for 10 pounds) or 15 minutes (15 pounds). When the pressure has dropped of its own accord, remove the lid and foil and test for doneness. A knife inserted in the pudding should come out clean.

6) Invert the pudding onto a serving dish and serve with generous dollops of whipped cream.

A note on ingredients: Don’t fret if you don’t have access to a native persimmon tree. The good folks at persimmonpudding.com have provided a list of markets that sell pulp, including some vendors who do mail order. Some of the recipes at persimmonpudding.com also include adaptations for using Asian persimmons, but I haven’t tried them. If you’ve successfully made one with Asian persimmons, can you please tell us how it turned out?

A Peach Chutney for Picnics

dorisandjilly — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 14:36:35 +0000

With the gorgeous fall weather we’ve been having, shouldn’t the chutney get to go outside, too? Having simmered on the stove for more than two hours, I thought it deserved a moment of sunshine before being banished to a dark corner of the basement. Next time it sees the light of day it will be tucked neatly into a cheese sandwich, on its way to lunch in the park.

This is a versatile, dependable chutney. Last year, I tossed in a lime. This time, for the September CanJam, I went with a more stripped-down version. No lime, no garlic, minimal ginger. And—because it had become increasingly clear that I was never going to use them any other way—I used dried gooseberries instead of raisins . . . but you should feel free to stick to raisins, or even currants. Given the amount of sugar and vinegar in this recipe, it’s fairly flexible and safe to make with other stone fruits, apples, and pears.

Peach Chutney

7 1/2 pounds peaches, peeled and coarsely chopped (or even squeezed)
1 pound raisins, currants, or dried gooseberries
3 3/4 c. cider vinegar
1 1/2 pound brown sugar
3 T mustard seeds
1 cinnamon stick
1 whole clove
5 small fresh hot peppers, chopped
2 large onions, chopped
1″ piece of ginger, peeled and minced

1) Toss everything into a very large pot. This will need to cook for a long time, so you’re looking for your thickest, heaviest pot to ensure even heat distribution. Stir everything together and bring rapidly to a boil. Turn the heat town to medium and walk away. Occasionally return to stir a bit. Cook for about 2 hours, or until everything is gooey and a deep, dark brown.

2) Meanwhile, heat a boiling-water bath. Prepare your jars and lids. I needed 6 pints (actually 5 pints and 2 half-pints, for gifts). When the chutney is ready, transfer the hot chutney to hot jars. Adjust the two-piece lids and process for 15 minutes in the boiling-water bath.

U-Pick Bliss

dorisandjilly — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 13:12:00 +0000

Picking fruit is a glorious way to spend a day. Picking fruit with friends is even better. Last Friday Kate (on the left) from The Hip Girl’s Guide to Homemaking and her friend Liz came down from Brooklyn to join me (on the right) at Mood’s, my preferred berry-picking location. (I like how the very top of my hat just barely reaches Kate’s nose.) At this point, Kate’s nearly two-thirds done writing her book, and it was time for a berry-picking break. Mood’s came through, as always, with great fruit (and great prices).

I came home with about 8 pounds of blueberries, 10 pounds of plums, and a scant pound of raspberries. The raspberries are one their way out at this point—the lack of rain and crazy heat have done their work. But the plums! Oh, the plums! Never have I had such spectacular plums! Mood’s has both red and yellow Japanese sweet plums. The yellow ones (Shiro, I think) still needed a few days, but the red ones (possibly Au Rosa?) were easy pickings. You just reach up, pick two red plums, eat one, and put the other in your basket. Repeat. Experience bliss.

Blueberry Pucker Conserve

dorisandjilly — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 01:00:09 +0000

This little experiment for the June Can Jam was one of the only times that I’ve taken a spoonful of preserves and thought, “By God! I’ve got it!” This is a mixture of blueberries, apricots, lemons, and walnuts, and it’s just about perfect. It’s a “conserve” rather than a “jam” or a “marmalade” in that it has more than one kind of fruit in it (“con-”) and that the texture is more of a preserve than a jam (soft with little pieces of fruit in it). Like most of my jams, this one doesn’t have pectin in it, so the texture may vary. At first I thought I had merely created sauce, but within a few hours it started to set. At this point it’s still loose, but definitely firm enough to eat on a cracker. When you eat it, the first taste is blueberries, pure and simple, but it leaves a wonderful lemon sensation in your mouth. You can’t really taste the apricots per se, except that it’s sort of floral. You’ll just have to try it for yourself and see.

I used individually quick frozen blueberries because I still had a couple of bags in the freezer from last year and have yet to make it over to New Jersey to pick this year’s batch. No changes if you’re using fresh.

Finally, about the nuts. Nuts are a low acid food, but the blueberries and lemons are acidic enough to make this safe. I based on this a published recipe that I have now misplaced. I don’t remember the specifics except that it included raisins, more nuts, and probably more sugar. I’m therefore very confident that this is fine for water bath canning, nuts and all. If you want to be on the safe side, give it another 5 minutes in the water bath.

Blueberry Pucker Conserve

6 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
4 cups sugar
3/4 c coarsely chopped walnuts
About 12 dried apricots, chopped
2 lemons

1) Slice your lemons as thin as possible, removing any seeds, like this:

Now run your knife across them a couple of times to make strips. If you’d like, you could remove the pulp from the peel and trim out the pith, but I never bother (and besides, the pith provides needed pectin).

2) Toss everything in a pot, stir, and turn on medium heat. Add just a splash or two of water to make thing moist, then stir gently until the blueberries start to break down, the sugar melts, and you have a sauce, like so:

Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to boil for the water bath and sterilize your jars. I needed 5 half pint jars (actually, 4 half pints and 2 4-oz jars, but who’s counting?).

3) Bring the blueberry mix to a boil and cook rapidly to the gelling point, approximately 20 minutes. Be sure to keep an eye on it—it will foam.

4) Transfer the hot conserve to the hot jars and adjust two-piece lids. Process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

Want one? Leave a comment by Sunday, July 4, at noon.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

dorisandjilly — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 12:00:28 +0000

I have no idea why, but I’ve been on a total pie kick this summer. This is the second strawberry rhubarb pie I’ve made, plus a cherry pie for a picnic. Perhaps I’ll look back fondly on the summer of 2010 as the summer of pie?

I usually use Joy of Cooking as a reference for both flaky pie crust and sugar/filling ratios. I generally cut back a bit on the fat. If I know I’m cooking for omnivores, I’ll throw in maybe a tablespoon or so of rendered bacon fat…but I wouldn’t suggest that for potlucks and picnics, where vegetarian friends might get tricked into eating pork pie. You’ll notice that I have a bit of trouble maintaining the integrity of a pie crust, but my feeling is that one eats a piece of pie for its taste, not its looks. And finally, rest assured that you can make this from fresh or frozen fruit.

I’m curious: how do you store your pies? My family always left theirs out on the table until someone ate it. Usually this would take a couple of days. Presumably one should refrigerate it if you’re planning on having it hang around, but what’s the turning point?

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

For the crust:

2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 T sugar
1/3 c. unsalted butter
1/3 c. vegetable shortening OR 1/4 c. vegetable shortening + 1 1/2 T bacon fat
Pinch of salt (omit if using bacon fat)
About 1/3 c. ice-cold water

For the filling:

3 c. fresh strawberries, hulled and halved (see below for frozen)
2 to 3 c. rhubarb, cleaned and cut into 1″ pieces
1/2 to 1 c sugar, depending on your tartness preference
3 T cornstarch

1) Make the dough. Combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Cut in the fat, either using a pastry cutter, two knives, or a food processor. Add in just enough water to make the whole thing stick together. Squeeze it together, wrap it all up in plastic wrap, and refrigerator for at least half an hour. It needs to be good and cold to keep it from melting when you roll out the dough.

2) Preheat the oven to 425°F.

3) Divide the dough into two slightly uneven halves. Roll out the larger half into a circle slightly larger than a 10″ pie plan. Transfer the dough to the pan. Tip: Fold it in half, fold again, to make a little quarter. Put the point in the center of the pie pan and unfold.

4) Combine the filling ingredients and let sit no more than 10 minutes while you make the top crust.

5) Roll out the smaller portion of the dough into a circle large enough to top your pie.

6) Transfer your filling to the pie pan. Carefully cover with the dough for the top crust. If you have miraculously done this without ripping it, you’ll need to add some decorative vents. If you, like me, have created several little rips, use them creatively to begin a vent design. Trim the edges a hair beyond the end of the pan, and so that the bottom layer is slightly outside of the top. Fold over the bottom crust overhang over the top, then seal using your preferred method: crimping with a fork, your fingers, etc. Brush the crust with a little bit of milk and dust with sugar. Transfer the pie pan to a baking sheet (to catch drips) and put on a rack in the bottom third of the oven.

7) Bake for 30 minutes, then turn the heat down to 350°F and bake another 30 minutes. The crust should be golden brown, and delicious strawberry rhubarb goo should be spilling out of the pie.

To make with frozen berries: If using whole, individually quick frozen berries, just substitute them as if they were fresh. If using berries frozen in sugar, you’ll need an entire quart, and you’ll need to drain all but 1/4 c. of the liquid (Keep it! Strawberry syrup!). Add just a bit of sugar—say, 1/4 c.—and be sure to include the cornstarch.

Rhubarb Compote

dorisandjilly — Sat, 22 May 2010 02:29:46 +0000

Sorry, folks, no pictures. This month’s can jam gave me an excuse to do two of my favorite things: eat stuff from the freezer and experiment with rhubarb. Everybody loves strawberries and rhubarb together, right? And since strawberry season has already started, it’s time to clear out the rest of the berries from the freezer, right?

I find myself asking these same questions mid-May each year…so much so that I wrote almost the same post almost exactly a year ago today. Yet the answer is always the same: strawberry rhubarb compote. Last year I froze it, but the texture was, frankly, a bit weird. Canning is almost as easy, with more predictable results, and you don’t have to remember to thaw out the jars. Just head down to your canning stash, pull out a jar, and spoon it over whatever you like to eat. For me, that means yogurt.

Strawberry Rhubarb Compote

2 pounds rhubarb stems, cut into 1/2″ slices
1 quart frozen strawberries
about 3/4 c. sugar (more or less to taste—remember to use less if your strawberries are sweetened)
1/4 c. orange juice

1) Combine everything in a pot and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Bring to a boil, then simmer until the rhubarb breaks down complete. Taste for sweetness, adding more if necessary.

2) Meanwhile, prepare your jars, lids, and a boiling water bath. You’ll need about 3 pints or 6 half-pints.

3) Transfer the hot compote into the hot jars and adjust the two piece lids. Process in a boiling water bath for 15 minutes.

I haven’t tried it, but wouldn’t this make an excellent pie?

Dried Papaya

dorisandjilly — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 14:55:11 +0000

I like papayas. They remind me of the Dominican Republic, where I spent a week two years ago sitting on the beach, drinking rum cocktails, and watching people kite surf. (No kite surfing for me, thanks. I like my neck.) Here in West Philly, where we’re blessed with a large immigrant population, you can find papayas, mangos, daikon radish, bitter cucumbers, and other random produce at dirt-cheap vegetable trucks. I’m not sure that I would buy slightly damaged or B-grade produce off the back of a truck in any other city, but here, the stuff that you find on the truck is the same stuff that you find in local supermarkets because it’s all coming straight off the barge via the Philadelphia Food Distribution Center. I no longer buy anything from the truck that I can get locally, but with papayas I figure: hey, what the hell. No one’s growing those in Lancaster County, and everyone needs a treat now and then in winter, so why not? If you have the willpower to walk away from a $2, 3 pound, good-looking papaya, I salute you.

On a whim, I cut one up and stuck it in the dehydrator. I cut them into 1/3″ strips and dried them at 105°F overnight. After 15 hours, about half of them were done; the other half needed somewhere between 4 to 6 additional hours. The flavor is a little odd. I sort of like them, but my husband thinks they taste like cardboard….coral cardboard. Some foods just don’t dehydrate well on their own—my attempts at strawberries and raspberries were equally weird. If I were to do it again, I think I’d blanch them in a sugar syrup first, and maybe dunk them in coconut. Because, you know, if you’re going to fall off the local foods wagon, why not go all the way?

I do love the idea of dried papaya. Any suggestions on how to make it better?

Applesauce vs. Applesauce

dorisandjilly — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 14:55:57 +0000

Last year, you may recall, I made a lot of applesauce. When I had time, I canned it; when I was lazy, I just stuck it in the freezer. Nine months later, we’ve been eating lots of each. The results?

No contest.

The canned applesacue is sooooo much better than the frozen. It has excellent texture, a great taste, and you don’t have to remember to thaw it. The freezer applesauce is…well…gummy. It’s fine to bake with, but I’d only eat it in a pinch. I suppose it’s possible that all of the gummy apples ended up in the freezer batches, but that seems highly unlikely, no?

If you, too, want to can applesauce, you have some choices. The National Center for Home Food Preservation says 15 minutes for pints and 20 minutes for quarts in a boiling water bath. If you’d rather use a pressure cooker, they recommend 8 minutes for pints, 10 minutes for quarts, both at 5 pounds of pressure. When I’ve done this, I’ve always used 10 pounds of pressure for 0 minutes, which seems to work pretty well, too, but note that you do so at your own risk.

Brandied Pears

dorisandjilly — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 11:55:44 +0000

Like regular canned pears, only drunk.

Brandied Pears

5 pounds ripe, yet firm, pears
Sugar syrup, at your preferred level of sweetness (I like 1 sugar: 2 water)
Several cups brandy

1) Put on a pot for a boiling water bath and sterilize your jars. I used 2 quarts and 2 pints. Life will be easier if you use wide-mouth jars. Heat up appropriate lids to match.

2) Heat up (or make) your simple syrup.

3) Peel and core your pears. Stuff them as tightly as possible into the jars, cut-side down. Pour 1 c. brandy into each of the quart jars and 1/2 c. brandy into each of the pint jars. Top them off with syrup. Run a spatula or knife around the edges to remove air bubbles, then add more syrup if necessary.

4) Screw on the lids and transfer the jars to the hot water bath. Process pints 20 minutes and quarts 25 minutes.

Let these sit for at least a month before opening to allow the flavors to pervade the fruit. Eat them on their own or over ice cream, and don’t forget the best part: pear brandy. You could boil it down to make a sauce, if you wanted, or just serve it in little tiny portions as a digestif.

Peach Sorbet

dorisandjilly — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:55:56 +0000

A spectacularly easy peach sorbet, made from homemade canned peaches. Note that this will only work if you canned your peaches in syrup—if you canned them in water, you’ll need to add at least a cup of sugar.

Peach Sorbet from Homemade Canned Peaches

2 pints or 1 quart canned peaches in syrup
1 T rum, brandy, or vodka

1) Puree everything (including all the peach syrup) in a blender.

2) Pour the mixture into your ice cream maker and process according to the manufacturer’s directions.

Seriously. That’s it.