Pumpkin Stuffed with Jeweled Rice -- Uzbekistan

When my daughter went to Uzbekistan last year, she brought me back barberries to try, because she is a good daughter who knows how to shop for me.

She also received, as a gift, a book on Uzbek recipes, titled Samarkand, Recipes and Stories from Central Asia & the Caucasus, by Caroline Eden and Eleanor Ford.

One recipe that sounded so inviting has been on my mind to try for a long time.  The only issue was getting a pie pumpkin instead of a jack-o-lantern pumpkin.  The former are edible and the latter are bitter and tasteless.  My persistence and patience paid off recently as I found a little side-of-the-road produce stand that had what I've been looking for.

So now I can make the

Pumpkin Stuffed with Jeweled Rice

1 pumpkin (about 2 1/4 pounds)
olive oil
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 scant teaspoon ground cardamom
1 teaspoon dried chile flakes
1/2 cup dried barberries or unsweetened dried cranberries
2 tablespoons orange blossom water
generous pinch of saffron strands
1/2 cup sliced almonds
1/2 cup pistachios, chopped
1 orange
2 tablespoons sugar
2/3 cup dried sour cherries
1/2 cup basmati rice, rinsed
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 tablespoons butter

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.  Cut a lid off the pumpkin and reserve it.  Scrape out the seeds and straggly strands and discard.  Continue scooping out more of the flesh, leaving the shell about 1-inch thick (save the flesh for soup).  Rub the inside of the pumpkin with a little olive oil and the cinnamon, cardamom, and dried chile.  Season with salt and pepper.  Roast for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, put the barberries into a bowl of cold water and let soak for about 15 minutes, then drain.  Put the orange blossom water into a small bowl and crumble in the saffron.  Set aside.  Toast the almonds and pistachios in a dry pan.  Set aside.

Use a peeler to remove half the orange zest in strips.  Slice these crosswise into thin slivers.  Bring a small pan of water to a boil, drop in the orange zest, boil for 1 minute, then drain and refresh under cold running water (this removes the bitterness.)  Return the pan to the heat and add the sugar and a generous splash of water.  Heat to dissolve the sugar, then add the orange zest and cook the liquid down to a syrup.  Remove from the heat and stir in the toasted nuts, barberries, and sour cherries.  Set aside.

Partially cook the rice in fast-boiling water for 6 minutes.  Drain.  Stir the fruity nut mixture through the rice, then drizzle with orange blossom water.  Season well.  Spoon the jeweled rice into the pumpkin, top with the butter, and place the lid back on top.

Tear off a piece of aluminum foil large enough to double wrap the pumpkin and lay out on a baking sheet.  Sit the pumpkin on top, rub the skin with a little olive oil, and wrap the foil around it.  Roast for another 30 to 60 minutes until the flesh is tender and a knife goes in easily (allow more roasting time if there is resistance to the knife).  Let sit for 10 minutes before serving.

My Notes

I used barberries, of course!  My sour cherries were whole, seeded, and frozen, not dried, so I used about 1/2 cup.  The pistachios were already dry roasted and salted, so when I toasted them, I just barely got some of them browned.  I used regular rice, not basmati, and about 1 tablespoon of butter instead of 4.

My pumpkin weighed about 4 1/2 pounds before cleaning, and the shell was less than 1 inch thick, so I didn't scoop out any of the flesh.  I mixed the cinnamon, cardamom, and chile flakes in a bowl then added some salt and pepper.  It was this I spread on the inside of the pumpkin before roasting.  The spice mixture was surprisingly thick.

Post-first-roasting.

Here are the barberries soaking and the saffron infusing the orange blossom water:

I forgot to crumble the saffron.

My orange was very small so I used the whole zest.  Plan the zest cooking steps carefully so you can do them easily:  To "refresh" the boiled zest, I first drained them in a small sieve, rinsed them under the faucet, and then left them in the sieve to continue draining while I returned to the pan and added the sugar and water.  Once the sugar was completely dissolved, I put in the zest and boiled the mix until it was reduced to looking just slightly syrupy.

While boiling down to syrup

I added the nuts and fruit right into this pan and stirred well.

The fruity nut mixture before the rice was added.

Once the rice was boiled, I drained it and put it into the pan with the fruit and nuts and mixed well.  After drizzling on the saffron and orange water, I added some pepper (not salt because the pistachios were already salted) and stirred well.

The quantity of jeweled rice fit the inside of the pumpkin perfectly!

Nicely portioned.

Important:  The pumpkin was still pretty hot from its first roasting when it was time to rub the skin with olive oil before wrapping in foil.  Be careful!  I had to rub quickly to avoid burning my fingers.

After 30 minutes of the second roasting, the pumpkin was cooked to tender.  I tested it by stabbing it with a knife through the foil.  : )   The pumpkin rested its ten minutes while I finalized the accompanying meat dish.

The Verdict

I served it as a side dish to the Pork Roasted in Milk, and accompanied by a tossed green salad.  I first served it with the lid on but that made it hard to serve, so I removed the lid, which looked pretty good.

The text suggested cutting the pumpkin in wedges for serving, which I did.

A lot of the rice mixture fell out during the "transfer from the pumpkin to the plate" but it was easy enough to scoop it back up and pile it on the wedge and on the plate around the wedge.

It was an attractive presentation -- we all agreed that the jeweled rice was dramatic and the pumpkin wedge with it intriguing.  I will describe the flavors of the two separately.

The rice stuffing was very tasty:  The fruits (cherry and barberry) were tart and kept the filling from being too much like a dessert, but still added a sweetness that kept it from being too tart.  The nuts and the barberry seeds added a lovely crunch to offset the softness of the rice and fruits.  The orange zest and orange blossom water flavors were very muted but, I think, added a dimension of flavor that rounded out the overall taste experience.

The spices on the inside surface of the pumpkin contributed to the flavor blend, although I was not pleased with the occasional bite of the chile flakes.  My guest tasters liked it, though, and I know I am a "flavor, not fire" person, so I decided I could live with it for their sake.  I thought it was interesting that those spices were there and not mixed into the stuffing at all.  It seemed to be an interface that brought the two parts, pumpkin and stuffing, together.

The pumpkin itself was not exciting.  I think it added something flavorwise to the rice mixture but I think it would be better to stuff a squash that had more flavor of its own.  We discussed the idea of fixing the stuffing without the pumpkin and thought, while it might be good, it would be missing something.  I suspect the pumpkin provided moisture to help finish cooking the rice, too.

So, success!  It paired well with the pork and the salad.  The leftovers await my attention for another day and I look forward to having them.

I think it would make a good stuffing for a turkey or a chicken, too.  The meat juices would add a lovely, savory dimension.  Perhaps I will give it a try.

Oh, the drama!

A Quaking Pudding

I was wandering through a little bookstore in Los Angeles one day.  The cookbook section was small but had some interesting books, including the one I decided to buy.

ISBN 0 907325 653

Such a simple title!  I was intrigued to open it and was not disappointed.  From page 7:

John Evelyn (1620 - 1706), virtuoso, diarist and author, was the second son of a prosperous gentry family of Wotton in Surrey, whose wealth was founded on the manufacture of gunpowder in Queen Elizabeth's reign.

The description goes on to tell us that, among other things, he was a founder of the Royal Society, and "the first gardener-cook for whom meat was incomplete without a salad."  He was particularly interested in gardening, architecture, and city planning.

The editor of this volume, Christopher Driver, tells us that he first saw the manuscripts of John Evelyn some time in the 1950s:

... I saw exhibited there a large volume bound in decorated calf gilt, with Evelyn's arms on the cover and his woodcut bookplate inside.  It was titled, Receipts Medicinal, and proved on inspected to contain not only prescriptions for sick cattle and humans, but receipts for the still-room, formulas for preserves and perfumery (many of these in Portuguese), and culinary recipes.  (page 8)

He later went back and typed up the receipts of cookery.  "Evelyn's neat - but faint - hand always gives me a frisson, as though a friend had planted a great walnut tree three centuries ago."

The story of John Evelyn's life, as far as the editor could determine, is a good read.  Mr. Evelyn lived during a time of change in England, and his manuscripts reflect that.  I recommend it.

There are 343 receipts listed, some of which have a title only and no text.  There are many repeats.  Mr. Driver has reproduced them faithfully, including the spelling of the time and making notes about words that were crossed out or added in after the original words were written.  He also tried to determine the relationships that are mentioned in the receipts, tying the name or title to a person known at the time, and how Mr. Evelyn or his family might have known them.

Especially useful is the Glossary, starting page 179, that defines so many of the words used in the receipts.  I think I would use this when reading other old recipes, too.  Did you know a "kilderkin" was 16 gallons of beer?

The first recipe that caught my attention was #76, on page 69:

A quaking pudding

Take eight egges a pinte of creame, 4 spoonefulls of flower, a nutmeg a little rosewater, a quantity of sugar you thinke fitt, wett the cloath you intend to boile it in, then floure it and let it boile two houres.

I have made boiled puddings before and usually enjoy them, so I wanted to try this one.  The idea of it "quaking" made me think it might be more delicate than the puddings I've tried that used a lot of flour or had a base of bread crumbs.

My Redaction

8 eggs
1 pint heavy cream
4 tablespoons flour
1/2 tablespoon freshly ground nutmeg
1 tablespoon rosewater
1/2 cup sugar

See the nutmeg bits?  I grated them then pounded the rest in a mortar.

First I filled a large pan up halfway with water and also filled the kettle, and began heating the water in both.

I broke the eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork.  Then I poured in the cream and stirred it well.

The flour was spooned into the mixture.  First I stirred it to break up the clumps of flour, then beat it more vigorously to distribute the grains well.

The nutmeg and rosewater were stirred in next.

Finally, I added the sugar and stirred until all the sugar was dissolved.

The mixture looked a lot like pancake batter, but was very thin.

Yes, just like pancake batter.

I rinsed the pudding cloth well (this gets rid of any residual soap from the last washing), then draped it over a bowl that was deep enough to hold all the mixture.

I sprinkled flour over the cloth.  It shouldn't be thick but it should be spread around well.

The picture doesn't show it well, but the cloth is at least lightly sprinkled.

At this point the water in the large pan was simmering and the kettle was steaming.

So I poured the mixture into the cloth, pulled the edges up and gathered them into a bundle to contain the mixture.  I tied the edges together with a sturdy cotton string, not too snugly because you need to leave room for the pudding to swell.



Some of the mixture was seeping out so I worked quickly to get the cloth put into the large pan of hot water.  As soon as it touched the water, the parts seeping out cooked and stopped the leak.

I poured in enough hot water from the kettle to nearly fill the pan, putting the water level an inch or so below the top edge of the pan.

Finally, I gathered the excess cloth into a bundle and rested it on one of the handles of the pan.  This keeps it from falling over the edge and possibly catching on fire.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble!

I adjusted the flame under the pan until the water was just simmering without boiling over or bouncing the cloth around.  I noticed the water was circulating around the whole thing, and I liked that.

I set the timer for 2 hours.

After two hours of gently boiling it, I pulled the pudding cloth from the hot water, let it drain back into the pan for a minute or so, and then placed the whole thing in a bowl.  I removed the string and opened the cloth -- it is hot so be careful when touching it.

The top, as it came out of the cloth.

I could see the pudding was, indeed, quaking!  It looked delicate so I carefully put my serving bowl over the pudding's bowl and inverted it.  This allowed the pudding to transfer without breaking or having to pull the cloth off.

The underside.  I removed that bit of eggshell before serving.  The brown specks are nutmeg.

I sprinkled a little ground mace over the top to decorate it before serving.

It needed something decorative around the edges but that didn't happen.

The Verdict

The pudding was served still warm as a side dish to some pork confit on a bed of apples and onions, and a tossed green salad.  (Remember, John Evelyn thought meat was incomplete without a salad!)

It was easy to remove pieces with a spoon.  It was soft but firm enough to hold its shape.

Cut away view, from the side.

The texture was mostly smooth, meaning it felt smooth on the tongue but looked a little lumpy. 

The flavor was very delicate:  the rosewater and nutmeg combination suggested that some fruit had been added.  My guest taster thought there might be vanilla in it.  The sweetness was a little too much for me for it to be a side dish -- I think next time I would add only 1/3 cup sugar.  But it wasn't bad, and seemed to emphasize the sensation that fruit had been added.

My guest taster wondered if there was cheese in it, which I attribute to the heavy cream and the texture.

The ground mace was warmed by the pudding and provided a lovely scent to entice our taste buds.

It was, as I suspected, a delicate custard.  The little flour in it probably acted as a binder to allow me to turn it out into a dish without it breaking.  But that also allowed it to quake, or wiggle when the bowl was moved. 

A success, for certain!  We both enjoyed it as a side dish and I look forward to having the leftovers for breakfast or lunch.

Pork Confit -- Foodie Fun

This recipe is from Ruhlman and Polcyn's book, Charcuterie, from which I had previously tried making bacon.  See the first bacon post here.



I had a pork shoulder butt roast that really needed to be prepared in some way, so I perused Charcuterie and chose the Pork Confit recipe.  It is a modern recipe, but preserving meat in fat is an old technique.  There is a fun-to-read website called The Rambling Epicure that has an article on the history of confit in France.

The author points out that confit comes from the Latin word conficiere, which means "to do" or "to make."  She also says,

The French confit we know best is canard confit, or duck confit, which is traditionally cooked in a copper pot over a fire for up to 24 hours so that its fat oozes out and envelopes it.  It is then stored in its own fat and conserved in a jar for up to a year.

but she points out that to preserve food in the confit way might use sugar, honey, salt, vinegar, fat, or oil, depending on the item and if the goal is to be sweet or savory.

 Ruhlman and Polcyn ask this:

Why confit pork?  Because it's fantastic.  To take an inexpensive tough cut of meat such as pork shoulder butt, and through your knowledge and skills as a cook transform it into something exquisite, well, that's what real cooking is.  

So I take the challenge and attempt to confit my pork shoulder butt roast.

Pork Confit

2 tablespoons/30 grams kosher salt
3 bay leaves
4 garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 bunch fresh flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons/20 black peppercorns
1 bunch fresh sage
2 tablespoons/36 grams chopped shallots
1/2 teaspoon/3 grams pink salt
5 pounds/2.25 kilograms boneless pork shoulder butt, cut into 2-inch/5-centimeter chunks, or
   one 3 pound/1.5-kilogram boneless pork loin
2 to 4 cups/500 to 1000 milliliters rendered duck fat or lard or a combination

I only used one shallot

1. Combine all the ingredients except the pork and the fat in a spice grinder and pulverize to a powder.

2.  Rub the mixture evenly all over the meat.  Place it in a nonreactive container, cover, and refrigerate for 24 hours if you're using pork shoulder pieces, 48 hours if you're using pork loin.

3.  Preheat oven to 180 to 200 degrees F./82 to 93 degrees C.

4.  Rinse the pork under tepid water, wiping off all the seasoning, and dry thoroughly with paper towels.  Submerge the meat in the rendered fat in a stockpot or Dutch oven; the meat must be completely covered in fat.  Bring the fat to a gentle simmer on the stovetop, then place the pot, uncovered, in the oven, and cook until fork-tender for 4 to 6 hours for shoulder, 3 hours for loin.

5.  Cool in the fat, then cover, making sure all the meat is submerged in the fat and refrigerate for at least 24 hours, or for up to 3 weeks.  Or freeze for up to 4 months.

6.  To serve, allow the pork to come to room temperature, remove from the fat, and saute over medium heat or roast at 425 degrees F/220 degrees C. until hot.

My Notes

My roast was 7.5 pounds and had a bone so I just cut off 5 pounds of chunks.

I was really puzzled by the directions to put all the ingredients for the seasoning into my spice grinder.  First, it won't hold that much and second, I didn't think the garlic, shallots, and fresh herbs would actually pulverize "to a powder."

So I started with the dry ingredients:  salt, bay leaves, peppercorns, and pink salt, which fit nicely in my spice grinder and easily turned into a powder.

Then I put in the garlic and shallots, which blended into more of a chunky paste.

Finally, I decided to just chop up the parsley and sage with a knife, and not worry about using the spice grinder at all.  Note that I forgot to use just 1/2 bunch of parsley and I put in the whole thing.  Fingers crossed it still goes right.

I mixed them well in a bowl and then added the chunks of meat, tossing them to coat them thoroughly.

Then into the refrigerator until the next day.

My lard was a white solid in a container, so I scooped it into the Dutch oven and placed it over a low heat to melt it.  I rinsed each piece of meat under running water, then put it in a colander to drain while the others were being rinsed.  While I was rinsing the pieces, I occasionally cut off pieces of connective tissue that were on the surface of the pieces.  To dry them, I took two or three layers of paper towels and surrounded the meat with them, gently squeezing.  Some pieces had crevices that I dried, too.

Drip drying

 It took 2 1/2 pounds of lard to get the meat "completely submerged", which to me meant at least 1/4 inch of liquid over the highest piece. Yes, I used a spoon to push it all down to get it under the surface.

Then I turned the heat up to medium until small bubbles were rising up between the pieces.

Tiny bubbles!

My oven was heated to 180 degrees F, so into it the Dutch oven went, with the timer set for 4 hours.

After four hours, the meat was not fork-tender and a few pieces had bits that were above the fat level, so I pushed them back down and set the timer for another 2 hours.

Four hours but not yet ready

After six hours, the meat was fork-tender.  It then sat on the stovetop until it had cooled enough to put into the refrigerator.  I decided that some would stay out for taste-testing while the rest would be frozen for future appreciation.

Definitely ready.

Here's what it looked like after 24 hours in the refrigerator:

Some of those dark spots were meat chunks that were too near the surface to make me happy.

I didn't want to wait for the whole thing to come to room temperature in order to try it, so I used a spoon to scoop out a big chunk, then put it into the microwave to gently warm it.  Then I tried to cover the remaining bits with the solid fat, but that didn't really work well.  It was interesting to see that the fat sat on top of the meat, and the meat was surrounded by the gelatinous juices.

Looks a lot like mashed potatoes.

So I chose to put the whole Dutch oven back on the stove to heat it.  I wanted the fat to melt so it could completely cover the meat again.

While that was happening, I cut the chunk in half and sauteed it in its own juice, along with a little of the fat that melted off of it.  It cooked until it was lightly browned on most sides.

Lightly browned.  Beware of drying it out.

The Verdict

My guest taster and I tried the pork just as it was, out of the pan.

It was ... wonderful.  Super tender, a lovely flavor -- you could taste the seasonings and there was not too much parsley (whew) -- moist and not greasy, delicate in texture.  A lovely piece of meat, which didn't surprise me, but not tasting fatty at all did surprise me.  I thought all that lard would come through in the flavor, but I'll have to say that I think the pork cooked more in its juices than it did in the fat.  The fat was a convenient "lid" on all the juices.

We both thought it was excellent, and my guest wondered if I had cooked more, because he was willing to taste-test the rest to make sure of its quality!

I think just served as it is, with side dishes fit for pork, would make a lovely meal.  If you decided to put it into a mixed-ingredient dish, like a pork and chile stew, you would want to make sure the lovely seasonings on the meat weren't overpowered by the stew ingredients.  Even if they were, though, the amazing tenderness would add a depth to the dish.  Use big chunks.

My only criticism of my own decisions:  The fat should have been deeper -- one piece of meat in particular kept sticking part of itself up into the air, with those bits turning dark red in the process.  But maybe that would have happened anyway.  I don't think it was a problem at all while cooking, and the issue went away when it was chilling.

Right now my Dutch oven is filled with pork and fat, ready to go into the refrigerator again.  I need to figure out what container I want to use to freeze the meat, because I know I don't want to put my Dutch oven into the freezer.  At least you know now that you should plan ahead for that.

Please do try this as you will love the results.   Success in the extreme!

Dried Cherries -- more like glacéed

In my last post, I showed how I pickled cherries using a recipe from the 1887 White House Cook Book.  Today I am drying cherries, but because they are cooked in a sugar syrup, they are what I would call "glacé" instead of just dried. 

The recipe comes from the 1844 edition of The Lady's Own Cookery Book, by Charlotte Campbell Bury.





I want to quote from the preface, which has parts I find amusing:

Moving in the first circles of rank and fashion, her associations have qualified her to furnish directions adapted to the manners and taste of the most refined Luxury; whilst long and attentive observation, and the communications of an extensive acquaintance, have enabled her equally to accommodate them to the use of persons of less ample means and of simpler and more economical habits.

In other words, you can be assured these are classy recipes that you can afford!

Also,

The professed Cook may perhaps be disposed to form a mean estimate of these pages, because few, or no learned, or technical, terms are employed in them; but this circumstance, so far from operating to the disparagement of the work, must prove a strong recommendation to the Public in general.  The chief aim, in fact, of the noble Authoress has been to furnish such plain directions, in every branch of the culinary art, as shall be really useful to English masters and English servants, and to the humble but earnest practitioner.

So don't worry, Dear Reader, that the recipes don't look complicated.  The author's goal was to make it simple for you to follow. 

I am grateful for the author's efforts. 

The recipe is from the Confectionary section:

Cherries, to dry

My Redaction

3 pounds cherries, stoned
1 pound white sugar

That's all, folks!

Mix the cherries and sugar in a container.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.  Shake occasionally if you can, to mix them some more.

Just mixed and looking dry

The sugar pulls the liquid from the cherries, so when they are very wet and the sugar is dissolved, put into a pan big enough to hold them comfortably.

Juicy and ready to cook

I brought them to a boil and them simmered them until I worried that they might cook too much and fall apart.  The sugar syrup had a chance to penetrate the cherries.

Cooked and soft but still whole

I really didn't know what the Authoress meant by "scald them" so I just drained them -- I kept the syrup! -- and placed them on a grid over a pan.



This is as packed as I was willing to go because I thought it important the cherries shouldn't touch.  So the extras went right on to another pan, without being raised up on the grid.  In both cases, chop sticks were super helpful in handling the sticky cherries.

Preparing to dry

I put them in a warm oven and let them dry overnight.  The next morning I turned all the cherries over and dried them some more.

The Verdict

The result was a flatter, slightly sticky dried cherry.  It was not too sweet and the cherry flavor really came shining through.  My guest tasters were surprised the cherries had been cooked in a sugar syrup. 

Pre-turning

They were delightfully chewy.  We enjoyed eating them as they were but I also think they would be wonderful in a bread, or tossed on a green salad, or sprinkled over oatmeal. 

To store them, I decided to dust them lightly with powdered sugar and toss them until coated.  That way they didn't stick together into a big ball and I could keep them all in a lidded container.  This worked well!

They look like big raisins, but reddish

Success!  Ms. Bury did well with these instructions.  I wish I had the time and cherries to make more as I think they would keep a long time. 

As for the sugar syrup that I drained from the cherries, I added the rest of the fresh cherries and some finely minced, fresh ginger, then cooked them until they formed a thick jam.  I canned them for future use.  The part I tasted was very spicy from the ginger, which went well with the sweet from the cherries and sugar.  Even though the ginger fire mellowed after a week or so, it was still strong enough that most people (not me!) would not want to put it on toast.  I loved it but I think it would be wonderful as a topping on some grilled pork chops. 

Pickled Cherries

Sometimes you just need to go outside and do something yourself.  I visited the Mile High Ranch recently to pick cherries off their 60+ year old trees.  It was fun and felt like I was getting in touch with nature and history.  Sure, I could have gone to the store and bought cherries, but why not have an adventure?

Luscious, sweet cherries

I came home with 9 pounds of cherries, so of course I had to find something historical to do with them.  I decided against making wine or infusing liquor with them.  I was tempted by desserts and may end up doing one of the boiled or steamed pudding recipes I found.

Today's recipe appealed to me because of the pickled loquats I made while my tree was in full production.  They were tasty to eat and the leftover liquid was good in my tea.  Pickling cherries was high up there on the "Ooooo!  I want to try this!" scale.

I found it in my digital copy of the The White House Cook Book, 1887 version.



The authors, Fanny Lemira Gillette and Hugo Ziemann, have impressive credentials.

Hugo Ziemann was at one time caterer for that Prince Napoleon who was killed while fighting the Zulus in Africa.  He was afterwards steward of the famous Hotel Splendide in Paris.  Later he conducted the celebrated Brunswick Cafe in New York, and still later he gave to the Hotel Richelieu, in Chicago, a cuisine which won the applause of even the gourmets of foreign lands.  ...

Mrs. F. L. Gillette is no less proficient and capable, having made a life-long and thorough study of cookery and housekeeping, especially as adapted to the practical wants of average American homes.

(Publisher's Preface)

The books starts off with directions for carving.  Then it covers a wide range of recipe categories and includes menus for the various seasons, months, and holidays.  It concludes with helpful household management ideas, ranging from "Housekeepers' Time-Table", to dyeing, etiquette, giving dinners, and even measures and weights. 

Today's recipe is from the Pickles section.

Ground spices, not whole

My Notes

I was completely out of whole cloves and never had whole blades of mace, so I chose to use ground spices.  Unfortunately, I didn't see their note about putting the ground spices into a bag, so I put them right into the vinegar/sugar mix for cooking and for pouring over the cherries in the jar.

I chose apple cider vinegar and white sugar.  The authors suggested either apple cider vinegar or white wine vinegar for pickling.

The recipe did not specify removing the seeds, so I left the cherries unstoned.  I picked through my haul and chose only the cherries that were firm and unblemished.  I decided to make one quart's worth.

Sure enough, one quart in my measuring cup fit a one quart canning jar!



As per directions, I used "a large cupful" of vinegar, measuring just over 8 ounces.

The vinegar, sugar, and spices went into a small saucepan, brought to a boil, and then simmered for five minutes.

Some spices stuck to the walls.  I did not worry about this.

Once it had cooled, I poured it over the cherries.  It did not fill the jar up; it only filled to about halfway.

Not enough!

So I estimated it needed another 6 ounces of the vinegar/sugar mix, which I made but did not add any more spices to it.  Once that was boiled and cooled, I poured it over the cherries.  It still wasn't enough and I was out of apple cider vinegar, so I topped it off with some white wine vinegar.  I poured straight from the bottle, without adding any sugar or spices.  It only took a few tablespoons to nearly cover the cherries.

Close enough

Then I put on the lid and put it into the refrigerator to pickle.  Lately I have been making refrigerator pickled vegetables, so I know they need at least a few hours for the pickling juice to have an effect on them.  I decided to let them sit overnight.

The Verdict

To recap, I needed twice as much of the vinegar/sugar/spice liquid to cover the cherries.  Roughly 16 to 20 ounces of vinegar.

I tried them the next day.  My reaction was this:  they need more time to actually taste pickled -- mostly they tasted like cherries with a vinegar coating.  Another day is needed for the process.

The next day they were more pickled but were too sour from the vinegar.  I added more sugar, shook the jar, and waited more.

A week later it was still too sour except for a guest taster who REALLY loves vinegar/pickled foods.  I added more sugar and waited again.

A few weeks later, I thought it was almost right.  The liquor is still very sour but the cherries themselves are slightly translucent and pickled all the way through.  The spices add a light note and were not dominant in flavor.



I like them!  Success!  I think they would be good over vanilla ice cream or mixed into a fruit salad (remove the pits first), and they are also good just out of the jar.  I think the liquor would be a good base for a shrub, to have a syrup of some sort mixed into it and then diluted with water.

They were still somewhat sour (that made them "almost right") so I added more sugar.  I'll keep doing that until I am happy with the sweet-sour balance.   I have probably used more than 1/2 cup of white sugar to get it this far.