Ukrainian Dried Smoked Pears

Another recipe that really drew my interest in Olia Hercules' book, Summer Kitchens, was for pears that were dried and then smoked.  

ISBN 978-1-68188-570-4

The recipe is on page 62.  It is as simple as the title says, with the challenge, perhaps, to get them smoked.  

Dried Smoked Pears

 

4 1/2 pounds Bartlett pears, cut in half lengthwise, cores and stems removed

Lay the pears, cut side up, on baking sheets lined with baking parchment and put them in a very low oven - the warming oven of a Rayburn or Aga is ideal - until they are completely dried, about 3 days.  Check on them every so often, swapping the sheets around so the pears dry evenly. As they dry, the pears will shrivel and develop a caramelized chewiness - any juice that oozes onto the baking parchment will taste like pear caramel.

Transfer the dried pears to wire racks, placing them cut side up.  If you have a cold-smoker, you can then cold-smoke the pears for 18 hours.  Alternatively, you can hot-smoke the pears over oak or fruit wood chips on a barbecue for about an hour or so.

Store the pears in lidded jars at room temperature - they will last for many months.

My Notes

Most of my Bartlett pears were yellow.  Ripe, but not soft.  Just right, I hope.  I tasted a bit of one and it was very sweet.

It was easy to cut them in half and then to use the tip of a spoon to remove the cores and stems.

This is about half of the half pears.

The oven was preheated to "Warm", which is about 170 degrees F.  I noted the time when the trays went in so I could see about how long it would really take for them to dry.

They smelled so good!  They made my mouth water every time I walked by the kitchen.

After about 14 hours of drying, the pears looked like this:

The kitchen still smelled wonderful!

I didn't swap the sheets around because my oven runs a fan to circulate the air.

I took them out of the oven for a few hours while I used it for other purposes.  Then they went back in, no worse for wear.  All the drying halves were consolidated onto one tray.

After 24 hours

After 38 hours

After 48 hours, I turned them over to make sure the bottoms dried.

At 60 hours, I turned them back.  Here they are at 72 hours, when I considered them "done:"

I cut one open and tasted part of it.

The inside looked spongy.  It seemed dry all the way through.  While warm, the pears were very soft.  Once cooled, they were stiff.

I could taste a pear flavor, but it also tasted cooked, maybe even a little burnt.  Perhaps I over-dried them, or I had the temperature too hot.  Or maybe I got it just right!

The next step is to smoke them.  I want to hot-smoke them myself, using my propane grill.  

Hot Smoking

I removed one grate from the grill and put it on top of the others to provide a circulating zone around the pears.  Then I placed the pear halves on it, cut side up, and spaced so they did not touch each other.  I also made sure none of the pears were too close to the two fire areas.

One small piece of pear was withheld from the smoking so I could try a before-and-after taste comparison.

I used applewood chips that were soaked in water for 15 minutes, then drained.  I also had a premade cup with applewood chips in it, so I used that, too.  The fire under the chips was at full until the smoke started being produced enough to see, then I turned it down to low.  My reading said subtlety is best when smoking food.  

I used "that much" wood chips.

See the smoke?

The lid was closed.  The timer was set for 1 hour, and I waited.  I did check on them occasionally to make sure the smoke was still coming out, as I wasn't sure if I put in enough chips.  

I noticed that the temperature inside the grill's box was pretty hot, enough to cook the pears, at about 350 to 400 degrees F.  I hoped that wasn't a problem.

Also, the smoke smelled lovely!  Some of the scent was on my hands and it was a great perfume.

After the allotted time, I took the pear halves off the grates and brought them inside to cool.

The Verdict

No visible difference that I can tell.

Smell test:

I could smell the smoke on the still-warm smoked pear and that was different from the non-smoked piece I kept aside.

Taste test:

I ate a small piece of the smoked pear.  The smoke flavor was very subtle, but there.  There was no burnt flavor.  After I let the piece soften in my mouth for several minutes, I was able to chew it carefully.  The pear flavor was still there.  I liked it but would not consider this an eat-out-of-hand item.  I would like to try it in a recipe.

A small piece of the unsmoked pear still had the pear flavor.  It did have that "burnt" element to it, which I was not fond of.  It amazes me that smoking could take that away!  It definitely did not taste even the slightest bit smoky.  This tells me the smoking made a difference.

Ms. Hercules tells us:

These pears are usually added to borsch or uzvar.  They are very intensely flavored; just a half a pear is enough to impart a sweet smokiness to pork, duck, pheasant, or lamb stews.

Uzvar is a beverage and is consider classic Ukrainian.  It it typically dried fruit soaked or simmered in water (or birch water!).  It can be sweetened, often with sugar or honey, and sometimes spices are added.  The fruit is strained out and the flavored liquid is consumed.  Ms. Hercules offers a recipe in her book.

Fruit added to a meat stew is one of my favorites, and recipes are all over the internet for dried fruit with meat.  I will take Ms. Hercules' advice and make sure I use just one half of a pear to add that sweet, smoky flavor, unless the recipe calls for more.  I imagine it should be chopped into comfortably bite-sized pieces, possibly after it has cooked and before serving. 

I look forward to trying the smoked pears in a recipe.  Either one from this book or a stew of my own design.  

Pepino Dulce -- The Cucumber Melon, explained.

I have a good local farmers market.  One stall is occupied by a woman who sells young plants of an astonishing variety.  She has the usual tomatoes, peppers, greens, herbs.  But she also offers intriguing plants, many of which I have never heard of.  This brings me back again and again to see what I want to try to grow in my yard.

What I want to share with you is the success I had with the pepino dulce I brought home last year.  I bought it just because the description said it likes growing in my area and that it makes fruit.  Once I got home, I spent time reading up on it.

Pepino dulce:  Wikipedia tells us that "Solanum muricatum is a species of evergreen shrub native to South America and grown for its sweet edible fruit."  It appears to be a native of Chile or Peru.  You can tell by the genus Solanum that it is related to tomatoes and eggplants.  Some people call it a "sweet cucumber", a cucumber melon, or a pepino melon.

I knew it would grow into a bush-like shape that would benefit from some wire support.  It needed full sun and a decent amount of watering.  I had recently made some new planting beds with automatic irrigation, so I had an appropriate place to put my new baby plant.

A tiny baby!

That was in fall of 2021.  Its growth really took off last spring.  I loved the flowers, which are white with purple stripes (or was that purple with white stripes?).

Here it is at its prime several months ago:

The bush is about 4 feet in diameter across the ground and about 2 to 3 feet tall.  You can see the fruit on it, as well as some flowers.  It is a robustly healthy plant with only a few issues from whiteflies, which did not appear to affect its growth.

I wasn't sure exactly when to harvest the fruit and ended up trying it when it was green, ripe, and very ripe.  Amazingly enough, they were all good in their way.

As the fruit ripens, it develops purple stripes.  Sometimes bold, sometimes subtle, and you might have to look hard, but you can find them.

When they still have a greenish tinge, they are not fully ripe.

Greenish with stripes, but starting to change to cream-colored.

You can still eat them.  They are firm, almost crispy, and they taste just like cucumbers.  I ate them raw, sliced into a salad like a cucumber.  Very nice!  I also pan-fried them in a little olive oil and dressed them with a sprinkling of salt and pepper.  Still good!

The next color phase is cream heading to yellow-cream.  The fruit feels a little softer, but not by much.  At this stage it is starting to taste more like a honeydew melon, just not as sweet.  It is juicy, mild, and refreshing.  I call this ripe.

Very ripe is when the fruit may be even more yellow-cream colored, it softer, and has a distinctly banana-like scent to it.  

There are both ripe and very ripe examples here.

Visually they might be the same but the banana scent is very distinctive.  The skin slips off easily.  It is more a food I would add to a fruit salad instead of a tossed green salad.

The skin, core, and seeds are edible, but I prefer to cut out the core and seeds.  Some people I have had taste it prefer to remove the skin.  

Sometimes there is a space between the seeds/core and the fruit.

The ripe and very ripe are good to eat in slices, just as they are.  I haven't tried mixing them with other fruits in a salad or other dish.  They do pair quite nicely with gouda cheese and similar mild, white cheeses.  I have put them out with a cheese platter and enjoyed them a lot.

What's interesting is that, despite the banana scent, they do not taste like bananas at all, not even a hint.  They continue to taste like less-sweet honeydew melons.  

Here in Southern California we are on watering restrictions because of the drought, so my pepino dulce plant is looking stressed.  It still has young fruit on it and is supposed to be a perennial, so I am hoping I won't lose it and I can see what it does next year.

I enjoy the fruit, though not everyone does.  One guest taster said it made her burp just like cucumbers do.  Several guest tasters liked it enough to request cuttings for their own yards.  I read that the plant can reproduce by seed but does better from cuttings.  I currently have four cuttings enthusiastically sprouting roots while in glass jars with water.  They will go into pots soon.  (Update:  Once they were put in pots and set out in the yard to start hardening, the bunnies ate them down to the dirt.  I guess I have to try again!)

Chilaquiles Tapatios -- A Pinedo recipe

It is time for another Encarnacion Pinedo's recipe!  (If you aren't aware of these, do a search for the keyword "Pinedo" to see more.)

My company was a guest taster for a previous Pinedo recipe, so I was confident that DB wouldn't mind me experimenting on him again.  I wanted something that said "Mexican food" and included chiles and meat.

What I decided on was Chilaquiles Tapatios, from page 57.  

The word "chilaquile" indicates a layered dish of meat and tortillas.  "Tapatios" indicates it is Guadalajara style in its makeup.  I believe that traditionally, chilaquiles are a breakfast dish but I was serving it as a main course at dinner.  This recipe does not include eggs, but chilaquiles often do.  

Today, most chilaquile recipes specify to either fry strips of tortillas or to use tortilla chips.  Miss Pinedo does not specify frying them here, although she directs them to be boiled in another recipe.

My Redaction

about 1 1/2 ounces dried chiles

boiling water

11 ounces pork chorizo

1.1 pounds boneless pork meat, cut into bite-sized pieces

2 tomatoes, about 7 ounces before prepping, cut into about 1 cm pieces

6 or more corn tortillas, each about 5 inches in diameter, torn into pieces about 1 to 2 inches square

2 to 3 ounces manchego cheese, shredded

1/2 to 3/4 cup sliced black olives

The can of red sauce was for backup.  I didn't use it.

Toast the chiles in a dry skillet, turning them often.  (View this site for details.)  Remove the stems, tops, veins, and seeds and place in a heat-proof bowl.  Pour in enough boiling water to cover, and then let them soak for about 15 to 20 minutes.  

Put the chiles and some of the soaking water into a blender and puree them until smooth.  You should have about 1 to 1 1/2 cups of chile puree.

Start cooking the chorizo in a skillet or big saucepan.  When it starts to brown, add the pork, tomatoes, and puree.  Stir well, bring it to the beginning of a boil, then turn the heat down to achieve a slow simmer.

Stirring occasionally, let the mixture cook until the pork is very tender, about 30 to 45 minutes.

On a plate with raised sides or a bowl, assemble the chilaquiles by starting with a scoop of the meat mixture, enough to cover the bottom.  Then put on a layer of tortillas.  Follow with another layer of meat, and keep going until the meat and tortillas are used up.  

Cover with the shredded cheese and top with the olives.

My Notes

I chose a mixture of Guajillo and California chiles.  They should add some heat but not a lot.  I know the chorizo adds some heat, too.

Here are pictures of my process:

Chorizo cooking, nearly done.

Pork in bite-sized pieces

Pork, chorizo, and tomatoes

With sauce!

Once the sauce was cooked, I put a ladleful in the bottom of my serving bowl.  Then I created the rest of the layers.  I wasn't sure how thick the tortilla layer should be, but I kept thinking about lasagna, so I kept it about two lasagna noodles thick.

First meat layer

First tortilla layer

Third meat layer

I chose to put a few tortillas over the top for contrast.

Three layers of the meat sauce was what I was able to make.  Notice I stacked the layers within the bowl, and I didn't try to fill the bowl from wall-to-wall.  I was surprised it stacked so nicely!

I put 6 corn tortillas in my redaction, I think I used about 2 1/2 tortillas per layer, with the last few pieces on the top.  If you want a thicker layer, use more tortillas!

I needed about 10 minutes before serving, so I popped it in a warm oven.

When it was time to serve, I put on a thick layer of cheese, and scattered the olives over the top.

Looks yummy!

The Verdict

I served it with a salad made of romaine lettuce, tomato chunks, pickled beets, croutons, manchego cheese, and a Caesar dressing.  A pinot noir was our beverage of choice.

My two guest tasters dove into the bowl.  (Not literally.)

I had to take a picture quickly, before it disappeared...

They enjoyed it!  I was pleased with the flavor of the sauce.  The chorizo added its special distinctiveness to it, so no other seasonings were needed.  The pork was tender but not mushy.  You didn't really taste the tomatoes -- they were a good background flavor.  

The feedback was that it was really very tasty.  In fact, the whole bowlful was finished off without any hesitation.  One guest taster wished it had more chile heat.  That would depend on the chiles you chose, and mine weren't too hot because my other guest taster is not used to that.  So one person thought the heat was just right:  some kick but not too much.  The other still liked it but wished for more.  I was fine with it.

The balance of flavors was right.  The tortillas near the top were a little chewy and contributed their corn flavor.  The ones near the bottom were soggier from soaking up the sauce.  I think the longer the layers stand before serving, the softer all the tortillas would get.  This is probably why modern chilaquiles recipes suggest frying the tortillas or using tortilla chips -- to give crunch and to reduce sogginess.

Success!

In retrospect, I would probably make the bottom layer of tortillas thicker, but not by much.  There is nothing wrong with them soaking up the sauce! The top layers don't have as much contact with the sauce, so I would keep them as I did them.

It seems best to serve this dish soon after assembling so nothing gets too soggy.

Tart de ffruyte - A Tart of Fruit (with salmon)

I was looking for interesting recipes that used figs, and this time I found one that wasn't a dessert or other sugary preparation.   It is from the book Take a Thousand Eggs or More, a Collection of 15th Century Recipes by Cindy Renfrow.  In particular, this is Volume Two.

ISBN 0-9628598-2-6

Ms. Renfrow gives us the original recipes from a variety of medieval English manuscripts and also her translations.  Some recipes she adapted for the modern kitchen.  The recipe I chose is on page 58, under the section labeled "FISH -- salmon".  

Tart of fruit

Take figs, and seethe them in wine, and grind them small, And take them up into a vessel; And take powdered pepper, Cinnamon, Cloves, Maces, powdered ginger, pine nuts, great raisins of Corinth, saffron, and salt, and cast thereto; and then make fair low coffins, and put this stuff therein, And plant pine nuts above; and cut dates and fresh salmon in fair pieces, or else fresh eels, and parboil them in a little wine, and put them thereon; And cover the coffins fair with the same paste, and glaze the coffin without with saffron & almond milk; and set them in the oven and let bake.

My Redaction

1 lb. fresh figs, stems removed, about 20.  (Or less if dried, see notes below.)

1/2 cup red wine

A small handful of almonds, about 1/2 ounce by weight; chopped, ground, or pounded into small pieces

4 or 5 threads of saffron

About 1/2 cup boiling water

enough pie crust dough to make a double crust

1/4 tsp. ground pepper

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/16 tsp. ground cloves

1/8 tsp. ground mace

1/8 tsp. ground ginger

1/2 cup pine nuts, divided in half

 1/2 cup currants

another 6 or so threads of saffron, crushed between your fingers

1/8 tsp. salt

8 ounces fresh salmon, cut into bite-sized pieces

6 ounces dates, pitted and sliced

Everything except the dough, almond milk, and fig-wine filling.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Chop the figs.  Put them in a small saucepan with the wine.  Bring to a boil then reduce the heat and then cover and simmer until they are tender, about 5 to 7 minutes.  Allow to cool while you are making the rest of the recipe.

Then make the almond milk by mixing the ground almonds and threads of saffron with boiling water and allowing it to steep until cool.  Strain the resulting almond milk from the mix by pouring it all through several layers of cheesecloth, a fine sieve, or a cloth bag.  Set the almond milk aside for the end of the recipe.

Line a pie pan with the lower crust, leaving some extra dough at the edges to help seal the second crust.

Mix the spices, 1/4 cup pine nuts, currants, broken saffron, and salt in a bowl, then add the cooled figs and wine.  Mix well and put into the pie crust.

Sprinkle the surface with the rest of the pine nuts, add a layer of the chopped dates, and then the salmon pieces.

Cover with the second crust.  Cut some vent holes.  Brush the top of the crust with the almond milk.

Bake at 425 degrees F for 15 minutes, then lower the temperature to 350 degrees F and bake another 30 to 40 minutes, until the crust is golden brown.

Let cool a little before cutting and serving.

My Notes

I suspect the recipe was designed to use dried figs.  Most recipes seemed to call for them dried, and I can understand why -- the fresh fig season is short and drying figs makes them last through the year.

But I don't care.  I'm using fresh because I have them!  Dried figs simmered in wine will rehydrate and be easier to eat.  I think I would use 15 to 20 dried figs, chopped, and simmer them longer.

Figs and wine.  Could be the whole meal right there!

Before cooking

After cooking

Next, make the almond milk.  You need so little that it is easier to make it than to buy it, and you know you are getting something without additives.  I keep the leftover ground almonds and mix in a little cinnamon and honey for a small snack.

Almonds before pounding.  You just need a few!

Pounded.  Making the pieces smaller is fine.

With boiling water and saffron.  Ready to steep.

Strained milk.  The yellow is from the saffron.

While this is steeping, mix up the spices, pine nuts, and currants.  Add them to the cooling fig and wine mixture.

Spices, pine nuts, currants

The entire bottom layer of filling

The fig, wine, and spices filling needs to be cool enough not to melt the fat in the lower crust.  I put mine in the freezer to chill it faster.

Here is how I sliced the dates and chunked the salmon:

The quantity of the fig and spice filling seemed just right for the cast iron skillet I was using as a pie pan.  The other layers were spread evenly across the top.

Bottom layer

Pine nut layer

Date layer

Salmon layer

Top crust with glaze

After my tart had baked for 20 minutes at the 350 degree F temperature, I thought the edge of the crust was at risk of burning, so I put a foil cover on it.  Then it baked for another 20 minutes.

The Verdict

This is the tart right out of the oven.

The bit of salmon I could see through the vent slits looked cooked.  I wasn't worried that it didn't cook enough, but that it was overcooked and dry.  I let the tart cool until it was still warm but not putting my mouth at risk of being burnt.

My guest taster wanted me to write that the crust was excellent.  I mostly agreed - I thought it was a little too crumbly - but it was flaky and tender and flavorful.

You can see that the layers were distinct enough:  fig layer, then the nut-date-salmon layer above that.  

The salmon was cooked thoroughly but not dry (whew!).  The rest of the filling was moist and cooked.

The flavors were interesting in a very good way.  First, recognize it is a fruit tart with salmon, not a salmon tart with fruit.  My guest taster wished there was much more salmon in it.  I can understand that sentiment.  

What we got was the lovely mixture of fruits that was lightly spiced.  The fig seeds added crunch and the pine nuts added chewy.  Fruit was the dominant flavoring.  The salmon was a fascinating diversion from what could have been a dessert dish -- you would bite into the crust and fruit and suddenly taste the meaty flavor of the salmon.  It reminded you it was a main dish, and that surprise was pleasant.  It also helped that the fruit was not too sweet.  

I declare it a success.  I loved the fruit-and-meat combination, and the subtle spicing.  I loved that it was only lightly sweet and that I got that savory salmon as part of most bites.

If I were to grant my guest taster's wish to make it a salmon tart with fruit, I think I would put half of the fig mixture in the crust, then top it with a layer of salmon, using 12 to 16 ounces to pack the layer densely.  Then I would spread the rest of the fig layer on top and use fewer dates on top of that.  I believe the fig mixture would keep the salmon moist.  Maybe some day!

Ukrainian Salted Herbs for Winter

Ukraine has been on my mind lately, so I could not avoid temptation when this book, Summer Kitchens by Olia Hercules, crossed my path in a bookstore recently.

ISBN 978-1-68188-570-4

It had me sold on the "Fermenting, pickling, and preserving" chapter.  But the other chapters that cover breakfasts, broths, breads, vegetables, meats, and desserts also offer intriguing recipes.

They aren't all necessarily historic recipes, meaning very old.  They are cultural, with any history they contain coming from previous generations of Ukrainians making tasty food from what they could grow or otherwise obtain.  (But that is really what historical means!)  

Some are more "modern" recipes invented recently, like the "Tomato and mulberry salad" that looks so tempting:  mulberries, tomatoes, red onions, and fresh basil all brought together with an oil and vinegar dressing. (I have a mulberry tree!)

The pictures are wonderful, and the stories Ms. Hercules tells of her experiences in Ukraine make the entire book a treat to read.

My garden has an abundance of basil and chives right now, so I was drawn to the recipe on page 60, "Salted herbs for winter."  Ms. Hercules says 

[E]very summer, my grandmother would preserve fresh herbs in salt:  although they lost their vibrant color and became mildly fermented in the process, they were delicious.  ... these salted herbs would most often be used as a base for the soup of greens that is normally cooked in spring. ... My grandmother would also add the rinsed herbs to other soups and stews.

Salted herbs for winter

8 ounces herbs and greens, such as dill, parsley, green onions, sorrel, and wild garlic

1 1/2 tablespoons sea salt

4 oz basil, 4 oz chives, crushed sea salt

Finely chop all the herbs and mix them together.  Put a layer of herbs in the base of a sterilized 12-ounce jar with a lid and sprinkle over some of the salt.  Now add another layer of herbs and more salt, pressing the herbs down with your hand.  Keep alternating these layers until you run out of herbs and salt, packing them in tightly as you go.

Cover with a lid and leave at room temperature for 2-3 days (you might want to push the herbs down a little further on the second day).  Once a layer of liquid has formed at the top, move the jar to the cellar or fridge, where the salted herbs will keep for several months.

The herbs will be quite salty, so use them in small amounts as a seasoning or give them a quick rinse first.

My Notes

I mixed my herbs before finely chopping them, as you can see in the picture above.  The quantity you see is in a 14 cup container.  I estimate the unchopped herbs would measure about 9 cups.  They were weighed after rinsing.

Then I took handfuls of herbs and chopped them.  Some were very fine and some were more coarse; this did not bother me.  What I imagined was how I would feel if I were eating food with this - did I want a big piece of basil in my mouth?  Well, probably not, but I wouldn't mind the size pieces I was getting.

As finely chopped as I wanted them, on the left.  I love my ulu knife.

Once the herbs were ready, I started packing the sterilized jar.  The wooden tool (a muddler) you see below worked well for packing the herbs down, since my hand didn't fit in the jar.

The herbs and salt didn't fill the jar.  I put on the lid but I used a fermenting insert just because I had one and wanted to use it.

Assembly completed.

The jar went on the counter, the calendar was marked, and I waited.

On the second day, I pressed the herbs down as suggested.  They compacted down to about half their previous height in the jar.  I noticed they were wetter, although there was not a lot of liquid in the jar.

Day 2

They looked about the same on Day 3.  There wasn't much liquid at all, and a tiny patch of fuzzy mold showed up on the surface, which I removed.  The jar went into the refrigerator then.

The Verdict

This is a mixture of basil and chive leaves, neither of which are very juicy.  I was not surprised that the salt didn't draw out much liquid.  I thought about adding a little boiled and cooled water to the mix, but decided against it for this experiment, although I might do it later just to help preserve them.

I took a small taste.  They were definitely salty, but the basil and chive flavors were still present.  In fact, I got a sensation of mint, too, which I assume is from the basil.  It was a good burst of salty, herbal flavoring.

My first use was to put them in an omelet.  The filling was herbs, black olives, and cheddar cheese.

Close up view of the herbs.

Quantity used for a 6 egg omelet.

Plus some on top.

I cautioned my guest tasters not to put salt or pepper on the omelet before tasting it.  They agreed it did not need any more seasoning than it had.

The proportions of herbs to filling, and filling to egg wrap were right, and the combination of olives, cheese, and herbs was a good one.  The omelet was well-received, and I was happy with it.  I found the herbs to be a convenient way to season the mixture in that it was simple to take the herbs out of the jar and put them into the eggs:  most of the work had already been done.

Success!

I can see these as a condiment -- set out on the table in a small bowl with a spoon.  They could be stirred into a soup or stew as a flavor boost.  Each person could choose an amount that matches their taste preferences.

Or the herbs could be mixed with gravy or mayonnaise to act as a sauce or dressing.  How about mixing them with softened butter and spread on toast or melted over hot vegetables?  

They are much more interesting than using the same herbs but dried.  I want to try different herb blends.