All Things Mulberry

My Pakistani mulberry tree starts producing ripe mulberries in early April.  I put a large tarp under the tree because when the berries are ripe, they fall off the tree.  The tarp makes it easier to find the berries and keeps them cleaner.  I sit down under the tree, take my shoes off, then perform what I amusingly call “Mulberry Yoga.”  I scoot, crabwalk, and roll my way around and under the tree, putting ripe berries in a bowl and the unacceptable berries in a little tub.

When the harvest starts, I get 4 to 5 pounds a day just from the tarp.  A week or so into it, the amount slows down to 4 to 5 pounds every few days, and often I shake the tree to make more berries fall.  That is what I end up getting; I cannot estimate what I lose to the birds, squirrels, bunnies, possums, raccoons, and skunks.  I don’t mind sharing with them, and the harvest is large enough that they actually share with me (unlike with my peach tree).

Pakistani mulberries are longer than a “typical” mulberry, and when they are dark purple, they are sweet and flavorful.  When they are dark, they look just like big, fat caterpillars hanging on the tree.

This is about four pounds of berries.

Forty to fifty pounds of mulberries is a lot to handle!  I decided this post would give you a sense of all the things I can do with such a beautiful and large harvest.

First and easiest, eating them fresh!  I’ll eat them right off the tree while picking and they make a great little side dish at lunch.  Fresh berries are excellent with yogurt (I like vanilla yogurt, berries, and a chocolate/coffee granola), and I think mulberries and jack cheese are a great combination (with a white wine, of course!). 

I share with friends, too.  I like to give to people who never had mulberries before; they are often surprised at the flavor.  I know that the mulberries I had as a child were Russian mulberries, which are tart and small compared to mine.  I think most of the people I give them to eat them fresh.

This year I made mulberry jam, where I cut the berries up a little and cook them in sugar with a little lemon juice until they form a syrup and thicken up.  It is not a standard jam because the fruit is bigger so it separates from the syrup more than jam.  It tastes great! I used less sugar than one usually puts into a jam, with the idea that it would be more "fruit forward."  It was, and I store it in the refrigerator to keep it fresh.  I think the next time I do this, I will chop the berries up more or maybe pulse them in the food processor.

Juicy jam.

I also started a batch of liqueur.  First, I put the berries in vodka and let them soak for a while.  Last year they soaked for 6 months before I strained them out; this year I waited two weeks.  This year, too, I used a muddler to press the berries in the jar.  This made a lot of juice, so I couldn’t fit much vodka into the jar.  Oh well, I put in what I could and tucked it away into a cupboard.  A few days later, I smelled ferment.  Sure enough, the juice and berries were bubbling away!  They smelled and tasted good but it was not what I wanted.  So, I moved the mixture into a bigger jar and added more vodka, which stopped the fermenting.

A lovely color, no?

When I strained out the berries, the mulberry-infused vodka was dark purple and the berries were mostly white – a good sign.  It tasted good, but it needed the sugar that makes it a liqueur.  Before I added the sugar, I poured in my attempt this year to make mulberry molasses.  I’ve done this in the past successfully:  basically, it is super-concentrated mulberry juice with a little lemon juice added.  But I didn’t feel I had achieved the molasses-level of reduction and the quantity was so small that I didn’t want to reduce it any further.  Then I added enough sugar to finish filling the jar.  I’ve made liqueurs for decades so I don’t really measure anything.  Now it is officially aging, which allows the flavors to blend and the sugar to dissolve.  In six months or so, I’ll taste it to see if it needs more sugar. 

Last year’s mulberry liqueur had aged for nearly 6 months, so I decanted it into a bottle.  It was wonderful!  Not an epic liqueur, but a very good one.  Smooth, just sweet enough, and a rich, fruity flavor.  The danger with such a liqueur is that it tastes so good that it is easy to consume too much in one sitting.  Sip at your own risk!

Mmmmmm.

This year I’m trying again to make mulberry wine.  Last year’s was good.  I’m not willing to call it a great wine, but it was certainly interesting.  Dry, when most people expect it to be sweet, with a mild flavor that made it clear it was not a grape wine.  One recipient thought it was excellent with a good steak.  This year I’m following the same recipe but most of my sugar was vanilla-scented.  I’m curious to see if that makes a difference in the outcome.

It sure smells good.

My experiment this year was to embed fresh berries in a lot of sugar and watch it turn into a syrup.  I took a picture every day for six days to see the changes.  What a fun and easy way to make syrup!  No cooking, just patience. 

A lot of sugar, layered with mulberries.

The view from above.

Day 1, layering is completed.

Day 2, juice is seeping into the sugar.

Day 3, more juice and it is spreading.  I shook the jar to mix it up a bit.

Day 4, look at that syrup formation!

Day 5, notice how the level has dropped?  I shook it again.

Day 6, that looks amazing.  I rolled it to mix it, too.

I was ready to add more mulberries to the jar, so I got to taste it (on Day 7).  It was unsurprisingly sweet, but I really enjoyed the strong mulberry flavor that went with it.  I added more berries, stirred it thoroughly, then put it into the refrigerator just in case it was tempted to start fermenting.  

In the past, I have made historical mulberries recipes.  One is a sort of breadcrumb pudding, called a Murrey.  You can view the recipe by clicking here.

 Another was a mulberry meatloaf, called a Red Murrey or Red Mulberry.  You can view that recipe by clicking here.  Yes, you read that right.  A mulberry-flavored meatloaf!

The other day I froze a box of mulberries knowing I want to make a cobbler in a few weeks.  

Last year I tried mixing the juice with milk, sugar, and flour, then heating it to make a thick saucelike dessert; this was a riff on an historical recipe that used cherry juice.  Unfortunately, the mulberry juice curdled the milk!  But I recovered from the blow and poured the curds and mulberry whey over sliced bread.  This was well-received and no one knew it was supposed to be different.

So there you have it.  Lots of things to do with mulberries!  I will continue to look for historical recipes that use them, with the hope I can report it on this blog.

Success! 

Twinkie Trifle - A Completely Silly Bit of Foodie Fun

I needed a dessert that went together quickly, where most of the prep could be done in advance, and would still appeal to a variety of eaters.

So I decided to revisit a dessert I did years ago, with a slightly different take:  a Twinkie Trifle.

Let's first define what an English trifle is:  "a traditional English layered dessert featuring sponge cake or ladyfingers soaked in sherry or fruit juice, layered with custard, fruit (fresh or jelly), and topped with whipped cream, often garnished with nuts or cherries."

My American trifle used the iconic Twinkie, that golden sponge cake filled with a white cream center.

Picture courtesy of Wikipedia.

I bought a big box with 16 Twinkies in it, individually wrapped.  That was one prep step completed.

For a custard, I bought a big box of instant pudding; the flavor was chocolate fudge.  I mixed it with milk the day before I needed the dessert so it had time to set up in the refrigerator.  I used just a little less milk than the recipe called for to make sure it was thick.

I used fresh strawberries, sliced and lightly sprinkled with powdered sugar.  Again, I did this the day before the gathering.  The next day, the berries had released a lot juice, which was my goal.

Also the day before, I whipped heavy whipping cream with just a little bit of powdered sugar.

So all the prep was done, and just before I needed the dessert, I assembled it in a glass serving bowl.

The layers were:  Twinkies, pudding, strawberries, repeat all.  Then I spooned the whipped cream over the top and sprinkled sliced almonds.  The shape tilted inward, so I didn't fill the entire bowl as that would have been too much.

Pictures!

Bottom layer.

Pudding layer.

Fruit and whipped cream on top.  Did I forget to take a picture of just the fruit layer???

Nutty.

Notice that the second layer of Twinkies were broken up into smaller pieces than the first layer had them.

Some of my guest tasters don't consume alcohol, so I didn't sprinkle the Twinkies with anything.  

Once it was assembled, I served it up.

The Verdict

Despite my best efforts, it was pretty sweet.  It was fun to look at, brought laughter at the table because I used Twinkies, and we all tried it.

I liked it, especially with the strawberries.  The nuts were a nice touch, adding a crunch to an otherwise soft dessert.  Some of my guest tasters enjoyed it, too, although we were already pretty full from the preceeding dinner.

Success!

However, there were leftovers, which were so much better the next day.  I believe that the liquid from the fruit had soaked into the Twinkies overnight.  This seemed to even out the sweetness factor, making the entire dessert much better and appealing.  Success again!

Years ago, I made this with milk chocolate pudding and canned cherries.  I cooked the juice the cherries were in to thicken it with cornstarch and added a little sugar and orange liqueur.  Once that cooled, I put the cherries back into the juice.  I also sprinkled the Twinkies with a little orange liqueur.  I think I put some powdered ginger in the whipped cream, too.  That was also a fun and tasty dessert.

You can see this is a playful dessert that you can adjust to suit your tastes and preferences.  Use the concept of an English trifle to guide your choices.  Let me know what you did!

Playing With Fire - Chicken Thighs and a Chicken and Veggie Stew

A recent cold day gave me the opportunity to build a fire in my fireplace, which of course means cooking!

I didn't have any particular recipe in mind, I just wanted to play and see what I could make.  Also, I wanted to try out my new fireplace crane.

Lovely, no?

It is important to manage your fire and hot coals supply before, during, and after cooking.  You always have to be thinking ahead and considering, "Do I have enough to cook now?  Will I have enough later?  How quickly are the coals burning out and do I need to put fresh wood on the fire to start making more?"

A lot of these answers depend on the wood you are using and the foods you are cooking.  With practice, you can assess the situation quickly and adjust as needed.  When I do historical food demonstrations, I start with charcoal, which is easier to haul and use than chunks of wood.  

Sometimes I see television shows or movies portraying cooking with fire as a pot over robust flames (ahem, Star Trek Voyager and Neelix's kitchen!) but that gives you little control over the cooking process.  You need to be able to adjust the heat by moving coals in and out, sometimes under the pot but sometimes on top of or next to.  When I cook when flames are present, the pot is usually off to the side while the contents are stirred often and the pot rotated to offer the cooler side to the fire.  In very old kitchen setups, you will see areas where a few coals can be placed on bricks and the pot is set on a grate over them.  With this, you can get very gentle heat for delicate cooking.

So I lit the fire and waited for the coals to form.

This wood popped cinders often.  Note the small black chunks on the tile.

Then I pulled some coals towards me and started preheating my Dutch oven.

Those coals are HOT!

Into the pan went olive oil.  I had prepared the boneless, skinless chicken thighs by rolling them in breadcrumbs spiced with pepper, cinnamon, garlic powder, and paprika.  The following picture reminds me that you should always have a plan for where you will set your utensils.  I don't want to put them on the tiles.  In this case, the tongs rested on the plate that held the meat.  Sometimes you need a separate plate or bowl, depending on how many tools you are using.  

Gloves with leather palms work well for heat protection and are easy to put on or take off.

I used the tongs to put the thighs in the pan and wiggled them a little to help keep them from sticking.  They started sizzling immediately.  

(Note:  I learned the wiggle technique from Hank Shaw's website, "Hunter, Angler, Gardener, Cook", found here:  https://honest-food.net/  Look at his post for "How to Sear Fish."  Credit where it is due!)

I checked them often, and when the downside was browned, I flipped them and moved the pan further from the heat so they could cook thoroughly.

I love the crust they developed!

Notice that I put a lid on the pan at this point.  Remember how I said the wood was popping a lot of cinders?  I tell you, cinders taste bad and you want to keep them out of your food as much as possible.   I needed a long time to get the meat's interior cooked, which means exposure to cinders.  Cover your pans as often as possible.  Some of my pans didn't come with lids, so I use lids that I do have to cover them, even if they don't fit well.  I'm also in the process of making ceramic lids that will fit them.  

The pan is getting heated on one side now, but the bricks were pretty warm and the pan was still hot.  I was confident that the thighs would cook as I wanted them to.  I also reduced the number of coals in the cooking area.

When they were done, they had released juices into the pan.

Smelled good!

The thighs were cooked all the way through, maybe more than I would normally cook them, but they were still moist and tasty.

I decided last minute to make a gravy out of the pan juices.  I added more breadcrumbs and adjusted the spicing (including salt) to enhance the flavors.  This I cooked in the Dutch oven but on my stove.

A very thick gravy.

The meal consisted of chicken thighs topped with gravy, whipped sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce.  You can find the recipe for the sweet potatoes by clicking here:   Cardamom-Scented Sweet Potatoes.

MMMMMM!

A very lovely meal indeed.

Hey!  I still had fire and coals and the time to make something that cooked slowly (while I enjoyed the meal).  So I made a chicken and vegetable stew and utilized the crane.

This time I used my large kettle (not the giant one you see in the corner of the fireplace).  I put in olive oil, chopped chicken thighs, and chopped onions.  I cooked them over hot coals, covered but checking them and stirring often, until the onions were transluscent.  A few times I rotated the kettle to warm up the cool side.

This is one of those situations when you need to think ahead about where the utensils would be placed  and where the hot lid would go while I was stirring and checking.  A nearby clean pot held the spoon when it wasn't in my hand, and the same pot held the lid when I was stirring the food.

The lid is too big, but it worked.

Then I added the rest of the ingredients, all canned: corn, garbanzo beans, green beans, tomato sauce.  I didn't throw any spices in until later.  I included the liquid from the green beans and corn, too.

After everything was stirred, up onto the crane it went!  Online reviews of the crane said it could hold a lot of weight, but I was worried anyway.  What if it pulled out from the wall?  Well, it didn't, and I was glad.  I built up the fire and put a lid on the kettle.  It was high enough that the live fire wasn't overheating the food.  

Lid went on after this picture was taken.

The beauty of the crane is that I don't have to lean into the fireplace and lift a heavy kettle up and out.  Safer, for sure, and easier on my back and arms.  It swings the kettle over to me, and I just need to lift it off the hook and set it on the hearth.

Aside from the occasional checking to see how the fire was doing and to stir the stew, I ignored the cooking process.  A lovely slow-cooking process ensued; I was looking for the tomato sauce to darken, which means it is well-cooked.

At some point I added spices:  pepper, garlic, salt.  After about three hours (or so), the stew was ready.

We ate it the next day, which allows the flavors to meld and develop.  Always a good thing to do with stews.

Of course it was good!  Success, twice!

It is always fun to play with the fire and cook something.  I'm hoping for another cool day in the near future so I can do it again.

Cheers!

Ramps, wild leeks from West Virginia

My friend and guest taster, RK, sent me some ramps from his yard in West Virginia.

One ramps.  One ramp?

Ramps (Allium tricoccum) are wild leeks found in eastern North America -- including the mountains where RK lives.

He sustainably harvests them for himself and what he is willing to share with me.  It is always a treat when a package arrives!

The ramps have a broad leaf, which makes them distinctive from garlic and other onions, and they have a scent that I find alluring.  It is hard to describe; I think of it like "garlicky-onion plus."  I get the same sort of "food high" from the scent and flavor that I can get from really good quality sushi.

If you look around the internet, you can find recipes for pickled ramps, ramp butter, ramp pesto, and more.  

But with my batch, I made a simple side dish to go with a grilled steak.

You can see above that my ramps came with roots and some dirt, so my first task was to wash them.  Each one, individually, must be rinsed.  I trim the root end off with scissors and then slide the outer part of the stem off.  The rest of the plant cleans up easily from there.

It does take time to get through the batch, but the scent while I'm working is worth it.

Clean!

Sometimes I cook the ramps by themselves.  This time, though, I rehydrated some dried mushrooms in some hot red wine.  They soaked while I washed the ramps.

I like to chop the ramps, leaves and stems, into about 1-inch long pieces.  Then I start sautéing them in a little butter.

Starting to cook in melted butter.

The greens wilt quickly, but the stems take longer to cook.  Once I saw the stems looking softer and more transparent, I added the mushrooms with their wine.

Ready for the mushrooms

All together now.

Once everything was in the pan, I reduced the heat to let the ramps finish cooking and the wine to reduce.  The last touch was to sprinkle in a little salt and pepper.

Yes, it was that simple.  The flavor of the ramps came shining through.  The mushrooms added some flavor and a nice chewy element to the dish.  The wine, salt, and pepper were a good flavor support team.

It was the perfect match for the steak:  the ramps onion-garlic flavor really stood out to make the meal special.  We included more of the red wine, of course.  

Ahhhh, success.  My one batch of ramps for the year yielded a successful side dish.  I'm glad to have documented it here.

If you can find ramps somewhere -- make sure they are sustainably harvested! -- give them a try.  Maybe you will experience the food high I get from them.

Thanks, RK.

Corn Pudding

My friend AD shared this family favorite recipe with me as part of a "send me one of yours and I'll send you one of mine" recipe swap.  She says, "This a new family favorite dish that has become a fall/Thanksgiving staple for us."

When someone raves about a recipe and recognizes that it is so good the family wants to have it every year for a holiday special, I know it needs to be put into my blog to keep it available for years to come.  Also, I love corn in many forms, so I knew I had to do this.

It is made with fresh corn, scraped off the cob on a grater, and I have no idea if it will be good with canned corn.  I waited to make it until I had fresh corn.  

Corn Pudding (4 to 6 servings)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/4 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup flour

1 teaspoon salt

5 large eggs

I think I should have husked and cleaned the corn before putting the buttered pan in the oven.

Cut butter into an 8 x 8 glass baking dish.  Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees F with the dish inside to melt the butter.

Use a box grater to grate the corn kernels into a large mixing bowl.  Combine the corn with sugar, cream, flour, and salt.  Lightly beat the eggs and add to the corn mixture.

When the oven is heated, carefully pour the melted butter into the corn mixture and combine with a few swift strokes.

Pour the mixture into the buttered baking dish and bake at 350 degrees F for 60 - 70 minutes.  It is done when a golden crust forms and the interior has set.

My Notes

I don't have an 8 x 8 glass baking dish, so I used my 6 x 10 1/2 dish, whose volume is very close to the 8 x 8's.  

I do not own a box grater so I used my flat grater.  Now I appreciate the value of the box grater, because the corn spattered a lot while grating.  After some practice, I managed to keep it off my shirt (mostly) and in the bowl (mostly).  

I estimate about 2 cups of juicy corn gratings, but I didn't measure it.

Sprinkling the sugar and the flour across the top seemed to minimize clumping.

Corn, salt, sugar, flour, cream

I had salted butter only so I used 1/2 teaspoon of salt into the mixture.

The butter was browned and a sizzling when the pan came out of the oven.  It took more than a "few" swift strokes, but I think I incorporated the hot butter into the batter well.

It smelled so good while it was baking!

The Verdict

It baked for 60 minutes.  A golden crust had formed and the middle had set.

After it cooled for about 10 minutes, I served it up.

The butter did a good job of keeping the pudding from sticking to the pan.

The pudding was very delicate and light in texture.  Very much like custard, but a bit heavier.  The crust was a little chewy, particularly on the edges.  It held together well and I ate it with a spoon.

The corn flavor came shining through.  I loved it!  The salt quantity was just right.  It was not too sweet, so that was also just right.

My guest taster and I both had a some in a bowl as dinner, as it was too hot of an evening to eat much more.  He had two servings.

This would be a perfect side dish for any roast meat or hearty stew.  

If it were bumped up with bacon bits and caramelized onions, it could be a main dish.  You would need to use a bigger pan.

Success!  I can see why AD's family wants it as a regular holiday special dish.  It is easy enough to make that I could see it being made more often than that, especially in the summer when fresh corn is abundant.

Thanks, AD!