UnRecipe: Summer Retrospective and a Hearty Welcome to Fall

It of course comes as no surprise to anyone that summer has Peaced-Out. The golden hues of autumn are literally setting the trees ablaze in color, there's a distinctive nip in the air, and I spent part of this past weekend covered in dirt and smelly stuff, putting our vegetable garden "to bed" for the winter, turning and amending the soil with our collected compost for the year and planting what I hope are the last of the future spring bulbs I had on order. Digging around in the dirt and causing mass hysteria to the local earthworm community, I thought of the summer goodness we were able to enjoy, from our own garden as well as our CSA Box o' Mystery Goodness (which I believe will continue through winter, but no idea what we'll be getting beyond mountains of kale).

Peach and nectarine crostata - farewell, Summer! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Some of the last truly summer dishes I made this year included making some desserts with what felt like the swan song of stone fruit from our CSA delivery and enjoying fresh heirloom tomatoes from our own garden. We received a bunch of peaches and nectarines in one delivery, but you could tell they were pretty firm, you didn't get a heady scent from the fruit implying ripeness and probably picked early, before they could get super-sweet. I know you can bag-ripen the fruit and let the sugars develop further, but I was also getting ready to head out of town and didn't want to be wondering what to do with several pounds' worth of super-ripe fruit before getting out of Dodge. Desserts are some of the best ways to use a surplus of fruit, and the underripeness I think helps with baking, as there's not too much excess liquid and the dessert isn't overly sweet. I made two things, a regular pie and a crostata, sort of a rustic cross between a pie and a tart. I had too much fruit to pile into a single pie, and most pie dough recipes provide enough to make two bottom pie shells. I like crostatas as they're desserts you can make in a pinch, with just about any fruit, and it's meant to be imperfect, since you're not using any special dishes or molds to make it. You literally roll the pie dough flat, lay your filling evenly in the center, leaving enough room to fold the excess perimeter of dough over to create a barrier to hold everything in. Brush an egg wash or some milk on the exposed dough and sprinkle with some large sugar crystals to give it sparkle before baking it off. Not that pies are particularly fussy, but crostatas are even more easy and basic, and the finished dessert literally frames the fruit filling, so it truly celebrates your ingredients.

Stone fruit celebration - desserts with the last of the summer goods - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I know everyone loves the pretty lattice-work of a classic pie. I've done it a few times and it's lovely. But lately I really like seeing the fruit in a pie, so I skip covering it up and just make a crumble crust to top the pie. I use oats, sugar and some flour (basic fruit crumble topping; can use from any favorite recipe), which help give it a little crunch along the top, it helps absorb extra liquid from the fruit, but you still see the filling in all its rustic glory. I also don't trim off the excess overhang when you lay the bottom shell into the pie pan. I just add the fruit filling and take the excess dough and fold it over, so it keeps the fruit contained along the edges and you keep that unfinished, rough-hewn look. When you brush it with some milk or an egg wash, it browns nicely and helps keep the shape of the pie slice when you cut it, just like with the crostata. Again, it's that whole rustic, unfussy look I've been gravitating towards. It's due in part to a bit of laziness and a desire to see the ingredients and know what you're eating.

Enjoying tomatoes in the raw or slow cooked - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I got really excited when I harvested this year's tomato crop. And I mean REALLY excited, because were I to be judged as a fit garden-mommy, the Garden Protective Services would have to step in and haul my precious veggies away. I was a baaaaaad garden mom. I picked out several different heirloom tomato plants of all sorts and sizes, getting several from the local farmers markets. I got varieties like Early Girl, for its fast maturation, some smaller varieties like a cherry-sized Black Krim, as the wee ones usually can be harvested earlier, and some other ones that had equally short maturation periods as we already knew the summer would be a short growing period. I had all these good intentions, got the soil all ready for tomatoes since the plants can be a bit of a drain on nutrients, but when the heat of summer really hit, I admit, I got lazy with watering and for all intensive purposes, I didn't deserve to harvest anything. Granted, I didn't get a booming crop of ripe tomatoes, but I got enough, including one big fat red heirloom, to make a couple of sauces and get a nice summer salad. The Garden Gods smiled upon me with amazing kindness!

I don't know if it's normal to pair fresh tomato with canteloupe, but I really wanted to enjoy the big red heirloom tomato in its raw, fresh goodness. I sliced the tomato and shuffled it with slices of fresh canteloupe that came from the CSA. A sprinkle of salt, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar was all it needed, and I layered it with crumbles of goat cheese. It was sort of a riff on the traditional Caprese salad, minus the fresh mozzarella and basil, but the canteloupe's sweetness was so nice with the fresh tomato and the tangy flavor of the vinegar and cheese.

I roasted the rest of the tomatoes I had, making a Bolognese style sauce with some other CSA vegetables, which topped roasted portobello mushrooms. That wasn't meant to be a particularly fancy dinner, I just had a wicked craving for lasagne one night, didn't want to get filled up on pasta, so made a hearty sauce that could go on a big mushroom and shaved a pile of Parmesan over the whole thing. This was around the crunch time of getting work done before leaving town -- dinners during that time are like an epicurean version of Gone in 60 Seconds, where instead of boosting cars, I'm busting out fast-paced meals that are using up whatever's in the fridge and can be good next-day lunches the Mister can bring to work.

Even if we weren't struck with a spoil of summer's bounty, we enjoyed every bite! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As with most things, you never get to enjoy your own party, and our meals and desserts using the last of summer's sweet goodness were fleeting and I probably didn't enjoy as much of it as I'd have liked. A combination of being rushed before a vacation and the ingredients being in short supply were the dueling culprits. The crostata was given away to a friend for a game night. The pie was really good, and I had a couple of slices, but I knew the Mister appreciated the sweet treat even more, so let him whittle that down. I took my lion's share of the fresh tomato and canteloupe salad, but that was the last of the large ripe tomatoes. But I'm not sad about not having weeks worth of summer's fresh bounty on our table. I've had this discussion with others before -- while the downside of cooking with whatever's in season means you are at the whim of whatever's fresh, even if there's not much of it, but the upswing is of course you make the most of every bite, however fleeting.

UnRecipe: The Secret Ingredient - Overripe Fruit!

One of the reasons I like cooking so much is the challenge of ingredient usage. Don't lie -- you know sometimes you open up your refrigerator, peering into its depths, wondering what will be revealed to you like a secret ingredient in an episode of Iron Chef, minus the appearance of the Japanese Liberace, Chairman Kaga. The waste-not-want-not part of you wants to make sure you use every scrap possible, not letting anything go to waste, at least that's the thought that runs through my mind. Because of the bounty of fresh summer fruit, it's hard not to overbuy thinking you'll be eating handfuls of fresh fruity-berry goodness every day. What always happens is, the fruit sitting on the counter starts to get a little soft, you throw it into the fridge to prolong its half-life even though everyone says not to, and there it sits, usually to rot. But rot not, fair summer fruit! A Mixed Fruit Crumble is here to save the day!

I crumble for you. I crum-ble for youuuuuuuuuuuu - Photo and bad singing by Wasabi Prime

Two super-soft nectarines, questionably safe cherries and an overripe plum later, I had it in my head to make mini fruit crumbles. I wasn't quite enough to make a whole pie or tart, and honestly, I just didn't feel like rolling out a crust. I blame summer for my laziness, so there. I mixed some melted butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and handfuls of rolled oats until this mash came together in a chunky, sticky texture. This was sprinkled over small ramekins of sliced fruit and everything was thrown into the oven until the fruit became bubbly-soft and the crumble topping turned a nice golden brown. I had enough to make four individual-sized crumbles and they were served heated with a dollop of mascarpone cheese on top, to make it into a kind of creamy, sweet, fruity mush. Sounds appealing, no? But egads, it was tasty and no fruit went un-nommed.

Farmers market fruit in its halcyon days before  languishing in our fridge - Photos by Wasabi Prime

OMG a Recipe: Ice Cream Death Match 3000

What a title. Ought to have its own theme song, I'd reckon. Something that would be played to roaring post-apocalyptic crowds wielding prison-worthy weapons and ramshackle armor cannibalized from an old Buick. But, Wasabi, what the hell are you talking about -- it's ice cream on a little fruit tart. But that's where you're wrong. Beneath that creamy, soft-lit exterior is a smoky, oily, meaty underbelly. This is Thunderdome Ice Cream.

This...is... BACON! Spartans need not apply - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I know everyone's so over "the bacon thing," but I can't help but dabble in the Dark Arts of Baconology, simply because I dig on swine. I got to thinking, bacon ice cream on its own would be pretty repulsive, all greasy, meaty and cold. That's not an after dinner treat, that's something you let sit to congeal in a glass jar before throwing it out, lest it choke up the drains. But what about treating bacon like salt, a secondary savory element to just help coax out other flavors? My issue with most baconized weapons of edible destruction is that they tend to be overpowering in the smoky or unsettling meaty-ness. Save it for my BLT, suckas. I decided to make a maple bacon ice cream. I say "maple bacon" and not "bacon maple" because I wanted the maple sweetness to come first, and only have the bacon be a slight textural crunch, with a hint of savory smokiness. Maple is a familiar companion to bacon, since they're such good pals at breakfast, so I thought the familiarity would not breed contempt with unsuspecting tasters.

This idea came about from an earlier ice cream making event, where I made a brandy butter spiced pecan ice cream. Why so fussy, Wasabi? Just say it's butter pecan like everyone else. Well, I had a little jar of brandy butter that was so luscious, but on its last scraps, so I knew this would be the best way to give it a Valhalla-like sendoff by incorporating it into an ice cream. I was concerned the brandy flavor and just the sheer butteryness of it would be overpowering, so tossing the pecans in a bit of cayenne before roasting them lightly helped cut that richness with a bit o' heat.

Indy attempts her best "Sad Pup Face" for ice cream. It no worky - Photos by Wasabi Prime

So, big duh, the buttery spicy pecan ice cream was freakin' delicious, my love handles grew three sizes too big, and that combination of flavor and taste sensation was what begat the maple bacon ice cream. You're asking, what's with the fruit pie? Two things -- one, I was tasked with bringing a dessert to a small weekend dinner gathering and I thought just the bacon ice cream would gross people out to the max, so needed the pairing with a pastry to help cushion the blow, and two, maple bacon ice cream on its own just looks kind of bland for photos. Only a food blogger would bake a whole pie (and mini fruit tart from the scraps) as a garnish for pale ice cream. Le weird, what can I say?

Don't give me that picky baby face - try it, I think you'll like it! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The maple bacon ice cream over a warm serving of nectarine pie is quite nice, I gotta say. The late harvest nectarines are super sweet, with a nice bitterness from the skin. The flaky pie crust helps as a buffer between baked fruit sweetness and the rich ice cream. Consider it training wheels to get people used to the idea of meat ice cream, as you don't immediately get a bacon-y flavor, just small savory doses of it when you get a little crunch of it, plus that round sweetness of maple helps keep everything in check. This was the thought behind pairing pie with such an odd frozen treat. Consider it pastry subterfuge; the spoonful of sugar helping to get the bacon bits down.

Maple Bacon Thunderdome Ice Cream
4 slices of reduced sodium, non-peppered bacon, chopped small
3 eggs at room temperature
3 cups half and half
1/4 cup pure maple syrup (the real stuff, not that fake-o corn syrup stuff)
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1-2 tablespoons of reserved bacon fat

Heat a pan to medium/low heat and begin to render the chopped bacon until fully browned and crisped. Reserve a couple of tablespoons of the fat and set aside the bacon bits in a separate bowl.

In a separate saucepan, combine the half and half, sugar and maple syrup and bring to a low simmer. Stir constantly to incorporate the ingredients. Check the temperature of the liquid to make sure it's about 170 or 180 degrees and then temper (add a little of the heated liquid in a bowl with the eggs and mix to raise their temperature) the eggs before incorporating them with a whisk to make sure they don't scramble in the liquid. Go ahead and shut off the heat and whisk in the vanilla extract and reserved bacon fat. Strain the custard through a sieve and chill for a few hours.

As you're churning the custard in your ice cream maker, add the bacon bits towards the end of the churning cycle, when it's a soft-serve texture. This will make sure they don't get too broken up and retain their crunch.

You of course don't need to bake a pie to go with this, but it's not a bad thing to serve with a fruit dessert. I think it would actually go well with an apple pie or pear tart. Maple bacon ice cream isn't as scary as you'd think, so don't squinch your face up like a five year old and widen your taste horizons to the Thunderdome of Desserts.

An overzealous garnish and buttery pecan heaven - Photos by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: Antipasto is Anti-work-o

God bless the Italians, getting the notion to serve a small plate of edibles to signal that a meal of even more food is yet to come. I skipped the additional courses, but took the creation of an antipasto platter to heart and put together a satisfying and simple lunch whilst entertaining a visiting friend over the weekend.

No need to be fancy, just dig in! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I'm quite keen on these no-cook solutions for a meal because it can be simple, made with a collection of items sitting in the refrigerator, and it doesn't require calling the pizza guy in a chronic fit of "I Don't Know What To Cook!"

There's a lot to be said over the value of an ample supply of pickled vegetables. Their briny state ensures a long fridge-life, and they all tend to play well with one another when eaten together. I had a random collection of spiced green beans, cornichons, cocktail onions, as well as a jar of kalamata olives. I'm sure because the label says "cocktail onions" one is supposed to use them in a cocktail, but I have such a merciless love of strong vinegar flavors, I eat them with abandon, a frosty Gibson or some other old-timey cocktail being optional. I also usually have a jar of pepperocinis, but because they are my absolute favorite of the briny bunch, they are of course the first to be consumed into absence. Combined with a few rough slices of sopressata to round out the protein brigade, the savory component of the meal was complete.

While going to the grocery store, Brock (aka, Mr. Prime) and I happened upon a block of creamy havarti (I love you with all my havarti), and a wedge of raw milk blue cheese. The cheese shopping spree also resulted in a jar of fig preserve, a rich, lovely paste that was a delightful combination of sweet and savory. Poured over the cheese, the preserve added a caramelized sweetness and a bit of crunch from the fig seeds in the jam. To add another sweet component to the Salty vs Sweet throwdown, a nectarine was sliced, and it actually went well with nearly everything served.

I didn't want to rely only on the nibbles and made a salad as backup, using lettuce and peas from the garden, so yes, Mom, we had our greens. The only thing that would have made this meal better was if we were eating it outdoors, in a charming picnic sort of way, but the kitchen counter with a glass of wine or two made the meal dandy enough.

Meat, cheese and pickles -- what more could a girl ask for? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

* Post-Script - Thanks to Serious Eats' Photograzing for posting the photo of the antipasto image on their site!