Pleading for recipes, and playing with persimmons

Some people pride themselves that they don’t ever cook from recipes. Not me. I rely on recipes, daily and heavily. And that is not only because being a cookbook author and food editor, I feel that the shunning of recipes – viewing them as the crutches of mediocre cooks while real, natural talents cook without – undermines the very foundation of the trade.

Why should I burden my already overcrowded memory with things that others (and mostly pros, or cooks far better than me) have figured out and conveniently written down, such as the amount of baking powder in a cake? Julia Child failed her exam at the Cordon Bleu the first time around because she had not memorized the recipes from the school’s cookbook. There is no need to say anything more about the connection between memory and cooking talent.

Rather than piecing a recipe together from memory, I like to spend my time exploring. The few vegetables still growing in the garden in mid-November – beets, radicchio, kale, and cauliflower – do not require any more work, so one of my Sunday morning luxuries is to explore new recipes and ingredients. Today I tinkered with the persimmons I found at a local farm stand yesterday. Call me a culinary greenie but I have never eaten nor prepared persimmons!

I wanted to leave the persimmons as unaltered as possible. After leafing through cookbooks and surfing the web, I settled on poached pears with persimmons, inspired by a recipe I found in Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. It is best served chilled.

Poached Pears with Persimmons

1 cup sugar

1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely sliced

Grated zest of 1 organic lemon

4 firm, slightly underripe Bosc pears

¼ cup dried cranberries

2 ripe Fuji persimmons

1. Bring 1 quart of water to the boil in a wide pot. Add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Add the ginger and lemon zest.

2. Peel, halve, and core the pears. Place them in the simmering water and put a small heatproof plate on top so they are fully immersed in the poaching liquid. Simmer for 20 minutes, or until the pears can be easily pierced with a knife.

3. Transfer the pears to a bowl. Strain the poaching liquid and pour it back in the pot. Bring to a rolling boil and cook for 10 minutes, stirring and scraping the sides often so the syrup does not burn.

4. Stir the cranberries into the hot syrup. Pour over the pears. Cool, then refrigerate.

5. Remove the blossoms ends from the persimmons. Using a serrated knife, cut the persimmons into thin slices. Serve with the sliced pears and cranberries, drizzled with syrup.

Makes 4 servings

Empowering pear pie

After a major power outage, just grinding coffee in the morning feels fantastic. The freak snowstorm left us without power for a little under three days, about the same amount as after Hurricane Irene but the loads of heavy snow caused quite a bit of damage on our trees. On my way to the orchard to buy pears yesterday I had to make a detour, as some roads are still closed.

When the power is back, and the mess of candles, dirty dishes, laundry, candle wax, water buckets and other remnants of living without electricity is cleaned up, I usually tackle the fridge and the freezer, throwing out soggy frozen herbs (wondering each time why I even bother freezing them, those are the first to spoil), and cooking with whatever can be saved.

It always takes me a few days to switch from the rescue cooking mode to the fun cooking mode. Today was the day. The gorgeous fall weather simply called for a pear pie. It is hard to believe that a week ago I walked around in snow boots knocking off a foot of snow from trees and shrubs.

For the pear pie filling I used pre-cooked custard, which is common in German recipes. It makes the pie wonderfully moist without being too sweet. I used Dr. Oetker Cream Pudding, which is available in the United States. The brand’s Vanilla Pudding can be used instead, which is even more widely available.

Pear Pie with Custard

Crust:

2½ ounces shortening

1 cup flour

¼ teaspoon salt

Ice water as needed

Filling:

1 package Dr. Oetker Cream Pudding (or Vanilla Pudding)

2 cups low-fat milk

¼ cup sugar

Topping:

3 slightly underripe Bosc pears

½ cup dry white wine

½ cup + ¼ cup sugar

1 teaspoon grated organic lemon zest

2 tablespoons Amaretto

1. For the crust, put the shortening, flour and salt in a food processor. Pulse to a crumbly consistency. Add just enough ice water, one tablespoon at a time, to the dough so that it forms a ball.

2. Roll out the dough between to sheets of wax paper to fit a 9-inch greased springform pan plus a 1-inch edge all around. Remove the upper layer of the wax paper and flip the crust over into the pan. Even out the edge and place in the freezer.

3. For the filling, mix the custard powder with a few tablespoons of the cold milk and the sugar. Stir until smooth.

4. Bring the rest of the milk to a boil. Remove from the heat and whisk in the custard mix. Put it back on the burner and cook for about 1 minute, stirring vigorously, until the custard thickens. Remove from the heat and let cool, whisking every so often.

5. For poaching the pears, bring 2 cups of water, the wine, ½ cup sugar and lemon zest to a boil in a wide pot or a deep skillet. Stir to dissolve all the sugar.

6. Peel the pears and cut them in half. Remove the cores and place the pears in the poaching liquid. Reduce the heat and simmer for about 15 minutes, until the pears are easily pierced with a knife. Turn them once or twice during poaching.

7. Drain the pears (you can refrigerate and re-use the poaching liquid). Place the pears cut side down on a cutting board and cut them into even slices but do not cut them all the way through so that you can place them on the pie like a fan.

8. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

9. Whisk the cooled custard. If it is lumpy, you can smoothen it by blending it with a stick blender for a few seconds. Pour the custard into the pan with the crust.

10. Place the cut pears on the custard in a circle, tips to the center. Fan them out as much as possible.

11. Mix the amaretto with ¼ cup sugar and drizzle over the pears.

12. Bake in the preheated oven for 35 minutes, then increase the heat to 375 degrees F and bake for another 30 to 35 minutes, until the crust and the top are golden. Let cool for 5 minutes, then pass a knife around the edge and carefully remove the rim. Let cool completely on a wire rack. Refrigerate until serving but take out of the fridge 30 minutes before serving.

The last word on quinces

All the jars from last week’s quince marathon have been labeled and put away, and the sticky kitchen floor and stovetop have been cleaned. And, except for the quince chutney, which needs to mature for two months, everything quince tasted good so far.

The last poached quinces went into two quince crisps today, one for us and one for my parents-in-law in Connecticut. Crisp travels well in a cooler, it can be reheated and even frozen. Nobody around me can escape quince these days!

Quince Crisp

I made the crisp with 1¾ pounds poached quince chunks. If unlike me you have quinces with little waste, 2 to 2½ pounds raw quinces should yield about that amount. There is no need to be precise – a little more or less won’t matter. The quinces can be prepared in advance and refrigerated for a few days. The crisp topping is based on the all-purpose crisp topping from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone but I reduced the brown sugar in the topping and added a generous amount to the quinces, as these tart fruits really need it.

3 organic lemons

2 to 2½ pounds quinces

1 stick cinnamon

½ cup sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Crisp topping:

6 tablespoons cold butter

2/3 cup flour

½ cup light brown sugar

½ cup rolled oats

Pinch of salt

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

1. Wash the lemons under cold running water and rub them dry with a paper towel.

2. Peel two of the lemons with a vegetable peeler and juice them. Put the lemon peel and the lemon juice in a large pot with water.

3. Peel and core the quinces. Cut into bite-size chunks and immerse them immediately in the prepared lemon water. Add the cinnamon stick and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the quinces can be pierced with a knife. Cool in the cooking liquid.

4. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

5. Drain the quinces and remove the lemon peel and cinnamon stick.

6. Zest and juice the remaining lemon. Chop the zest very finely. Mix the zest, lemon juice, quinces, sugar and cinnamon with the drained quince chunks. Place the mix in an ovenproof dish and distribute evenly with a spatula.

7. For the topping, cut the butter into small dice. Add all other ingredients and quickly crumble with your fingertips to a pebbly consistency. Distribute evenly over the quinces. Bake in the preheated oven for 1 hour until bubbly and lightly browned on top.

Makes 6 servings

Quince Chutney

This recipe is based on the Pumpkin and Quince Chutney from the fabulous River Cottage Preserves Handbook by Pam Corbin, but I made a couple of changes.

I could not warm up to adding horseradish, so I substituted freshly grated gingerroot, as it goes well with pumpkin, quince, apples, and raisins.

Also, after I was done with all the chopping it was so late that I had to postpone the cooking to the next morning. I mixed all of the ingredients and let it sit in the refrigerator overnight, which I have done with other chutneys. It usually intensifies the flavor.

2 teaspoons black peppercorns

12 whole cloves

2 cinnamon sticks, broken in half

2½ pounds peeled and deseeded pumpkin

2½ pounds peeled and cored quince

1½ pounds peeled and cored tart apples

1½ pounds peeled and trimmed red onions

3 cups raisins

2½ cups light brown sugar

2½ cups apple cider vinegar

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon chili flakes, more to taste

2 ounces freshly grated gingerroot

1. Bundle the peppercorns, cloves and cinnamon in a piece of cheesecloth and tie securely with a butcher twine.

2. Evenly chop the pumpkin, quince, apples and onions. Place the raisins in a heatproof bowl and pour hot water over them. Drain well.

3. Mix all of the ingredients in a large non-corrosive container (plastic or glass, no metal) with a lid and refrigerate overnight.

4. The next day, slowly bring the mix to a boil. Reduced the heat to a simmer and cook uncovered for 3 hours, until the liquid is thick and syrupy.

5. Remove the spice bag. Fill the chutney in sterilized jars through a canning funnel. Wipe the rims with a damp piece of paper towel to remove any drips and wipe dry with paper towel. Place the lids and the bands on the jars and process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

6. Let cool and set for 24 hours without moving the jars.

Makes six to seven 1-pint jars 

That was quince enough

Other than eating them, I don’t want to have anything to do with quinces for a very long time. Last week I spent three long evenings, and a good part of Saturday, peeling, coring, and chopping quinces, making quince jelly, quince sauce, quince compote, quince chutney, and poached quinces. In the process, I ran out of sugar, apple cider vinegar, jars, and lids. I dulled two paring knives (quinces are very acidic!), got a blister on my hand, and had to run over to a friend’s house because I don’t have a pressure cooker and I thought the quince sauce needed special processing (now I know better). Also, two filled canning jars cracked during sealing, spilling their precious content into the boiling water.

Yet when I look at the line-up of jars, I am telling myself it was worth it. I had already given up on getting my hand on quinces this fall when our neighbor unloaded three large crates with quinces on our porch on Wednesday night. I did not weigh them but it must have been 30 to 40 pounds.

If those had been regular quinces, I would not have been able to handle such a huge amount. The trees where that glut of gnarly quinces originated surely have not been treated with pesticides, nor been pruned in decades so there was a lot of waste. Except for the tedious process of cleaning and trimming, this was fine with me; I was going to peel and thoroughly core the quinces anyway, because I don’t like the astringent taste of those parts.

While the look of most fruits deteriorates during cooking, the quince turns into a blushing pink beauty. I find it amazing how the pale yellow, gritty flesh of quinces changes its color. However, it is essential to immerse the quinces in a bowl of water with several tablespoons of lemon or lime juice immediately after peeling to prevent them from turning brown.

No additives needed for coloring here – the leftover liquid from poaching the quinces, which I strained and filled into bottles, has the color of pink lemonade. We started mixing it with seltzer water for a refreshing soda. Nothing should go to waste, especially after you have worked so hard for it!

Here are two of the quince recipes. After I am done labeling all those jars, I will write down the others.

Spiced Quince Sauce

I initially thought the quince sauce needed to be sealed in a pressure cooker but I learned that ¼ cup of sugar per pound of fruit is enough for safe water batch canning.

Although it takes more time, and I really did not need that after all the peeling and coring, I strongly recommend grinding the spices yourself instead of using ground ones. The flavor is significantly better.

5¾ pounds peeled and cored quince chunks

1 tablespoon finely chopped organic lemon zest

2 teaspoons cinnamon

½ teaspoon ground ginger

¼ teaspoon ground cloves

½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1 teaspoon ground cardamom

1 teaspoon ground allspice

½ teaspoon ground anise

½ cup orange juice

2 cups sugar

1. Put all the ingredients except for the sugar in a large heavy pot and cook, covered, until the quinces break apart, about 1 to 1¼ hours. Stir often to prevent burning.

2. Add the sugar at the end of the cooking process. Puree finely with a stick blender.

3. Fill the hot quince sauce in sterilized jars. The sauce is very thick and forms air pockets. To remove them, carefully stir the sauce with a long, thin utensil (I used a metal skewer).

4. Wipe the rim with a damp piece of paper towel to remove any drips and wipe dry with paper towel. Place the lids and the bands on the jars and process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

5. Let cool and set for 24 hours without moving the jars.

Makes four to five 1-pint jars

Chunky Orange-Cardamom Quince Compote

Quinces and oranges are a wonderful combination, and so are quinces and cardamom, so why not combine all three? This makes chunky quince compote that we ate with Greek vanilla yogurt.

1¾ pounds peeled and cored quince chunks

2 teaspoons dried orange peel

6 cardamom pods, finely ground

1/3 to ½ cup sugar, to taste

2 tablespoons Cointreau or other orange liqueur, to taste

1. Put the quinces in a heavy pot with the cardamom about ¼ inch of water to prevent burning. Cook, covered, for about 45 minutes, until the quinces are soft but not falling apart. Add the sugar and stir until dissolved.

2. Let cool, then stir in the orange liqueur. Refrigerate.

Makes 6 servings