After living in  South Florida for more years than I care to remember, I’ve gotten used to the subtle clues that signify the  change in seasons.  They’re hard to define, but over time one gets better at identifying them.  Some years, however, it seems like Mother Nature is downright schizophrenic.   Take this winter, for instance.   For a few days at a time, the temperature would dip down into the forties and for the next  week or two, it would spike back up to  seventy-five.    I’d leave my house in the morning wearing a cozy sweater, and by noon I’d be sweating bullets!  And, the plants and trees were confused too.   I had azalea bushes blooming in January, that were nothing more than a mass of barren, brown twigs by mid-February.

We had no real springtime this year either.   By the time St. Patrick’s Day rolled around, my weather thermometer hit eighty and never looked back.    I really missed that transition period!   But apparently, Summer was in a hurry to get here and  would not be delayed.  So, while the calendar tells us that we still have another six weeks for it to officially be summer, the weather says otherwise.

There are few things I like about summertime in Florida.  It’s miserably hot and impossibly humid.  Even abundant sunshine becomes unpleasant under those conditions.  And, you can forget about  growing beautiful, lush  fruits and vegetables in your garden unless you plan to stand outside all day long spritzing them with a hose.   It’s just too damn hot!   But, there are a few nice things that make the heat tolerable, not the least of which is air conditioning.  By the first of May, most of the tourists have evacuated, and I can once again get into any restaurant I want without an hour and a half wait.   Another thing that I like about this time of year, is that those ripe and juicy California strawberries start lining the produce aisles in our supermarkets.

You may have heard that Florida is considered the winter strawberry capitol of the world. From December to April, we are lucky enough to have fresh strawberries coming out of our ears. Then, for a month or two after the winter crop dries up, we’re stuck with sad little tasteless berries from Godknowswhere. That is, until those ruby-red California beauties arrive.

One of my favorite ways to use fresh strawberries is in a good old-fashioned, Southern-style strawberry shortcake.   Another thing I love to do is bake them into things like muffins and scones.  So, when I came across this recipe for a strawberry cake, I was intrigued.

This strawberry cake is pretty simple stuff.  It’s a basic, vanilla-scented yellow cake studded with a mass of fresh berries – a full pound to be exact.   From just looking at the recipe, you probably wouldn’t  guess it would be anything very special.  But, after baking one for myself, I am here to tell you that it most definitely is – although you might not realize it right away.

While baking, the cake kind of puffs up and envelops the strawberries, which go all melty and jammy and lusciously sweet.  They remind me a little of my roasted strawberries in that regard.   The cake itself has a soft and tender crumb, which manages to get the slightest crunch around the edges.  It’s sweet, but not cloyingly so, making it a perfect backdrop for the berries ensconced inside.   And, the cake really takes no time at all to whip up. The hardest part for me was sniffing around my oven as I waited for it to finish baking.   Then, as it sat cooling on my counter, that cake really began to draw me in.   I found myself slicing off a tiny sliver every time I walked through my kitchen.  I baked the cake early in the morning, and by mid-day it was almost half gone!   Try explaining that to hungry loved ones as you present a half-eaten cake at dinner time!

I can see this cake being made with various other fruits as well.  I suspect that blackberries, peaches, nectarines or plums would all be wonderful.

So, while I’m sweating out the next several weeks of almost-summer, it’s nice to know that I can have this strawberry cake to give me comfort.  That, and lots and lots of ice cream!

Next to the temperate weather, one of the nicest things about living in Florida is the abundance of citrus fruits we have here.  Several years ago, I planted a kumquat tree in my front yard.  It’s a spindly, sad-looking, little thing.  But, every year around this time, it give me masses and masses of lovely, plump kumquats.

Kumquats are an eclectic little fruit. While they look like miniature oranges, they’re not at all like the Valencia and Temple oranges that they share my yard space with.  For one thing,  a kumquat’s edible rind is thin, soft and sweet, while its flesh is bitter.  Most people eat the rind and toss the rest.  For another thing, they don’t have much juice in them.  You can usually squeeze out a scant teaspoon or so to add to a cocktail, but that’s pretty much it.  One thing they do have in common though, is that they’re both great for candying.

A few weeks ago, after picking a large basket full of fruit, I decided to candy them.  I love doing this because candied kumquats keep forever in the fridge.  Plus, you can use them in so many different kinds of recipes, both savory and sweet.   By themselves, kumquats have a bit of a bite, so I like to toss a split vanilla bean in with them as they poach.  The vanilla really mellows the kumquats and adds a lovely, subtle flavor.

There isn’t a whole lot of finesse involved in candying kumquats.  You basically just simmer them in water and sugar until they start to fall apart.  By that time, the fruit will have become soft and squidgy, and poaching liquid will be a thick, luscious syrup.

Candied kumquats can be baked into cakes or muffins, used as a topping for tarts, custards or ice cream, and even cooked into savory dishes like chicken or pork.  They also make a great accompaniment to various cheeses. The possibilities are only limited by your imagination.   However, when I do use them in cooking or baking, I discard the flesh and seeds and just use the skins.   Aside from being bitter, the insides are just plain mushy and unattractive.   The syrup can also be used as a flavoring in baked goods, frozen treats and all sorts of beverages.  Try swirling some into a glass filled with ice cold seltzer water for a nice, refreshing drink.

If you’re not lucky enough to have a kumquat tree growing in your yard, don’t fret.  You can almost always find fresh kumquats this time of year at your friendly neighborhood supermarket.  They probably won’t be as pretty as mine, but they’ll still taste great! 

Well, this certainly took a bit longer than I had planned!  Besides a nasty bout of bronchitis that totally took me down, I’ve found myself in the throes of college applications, SAT’s and ACT’s, plus a few magazine deadlines just for good measure.   Unfortunately, poor little SGCC has had to sit in the back of the bus temporarily, while I play catch up.  But, I realized that I’ve left you hanging in the middle of my Oregon trip, and that just won’t do.  The second half of  my adventure was just as fabulous as the first, and I really do want to share it with you. I had actually put together a very nice slideshow with music and everything for you.   It was perfect and I had my heart set on using it in this post.  Unfortunately, the artist who recorded the music that I wanted to use never responded to my request for permission.  After two emails and five days, I gave up.  Sigh… 

On Friday night, my fellow bloggers and I were treated to a burgers and brew bash high on a rooftop deck in the artsy Pearl District digs of Weiden & Kennedy.  There, Chef Gregory Denton from Metrovino and Chef Chris Carriker from The Gilt Club served up mini-versions of some of the tastiest burgers you’ll find anywhere.  These weren’t just any old burgers, either.  They were elk burgers, lamb burgers and Metrovino’s award-winning double decker burgers as well.   To go along with the burgers, we also enjoyed some lovely salads, gnocchi, fresh Dungeness crab and scrumptious sweets.

Saturday morning took us over to the Portland Farmers Market to pick up ingredients for a canning workshop and to marvel over the amazing bounty of Oregon’s growers and artisan producers.  I literally was blown away by all of the magnificent produce I found.  Everything positively glistened!  I’ve never seen anything like it.

Once we had scored all of our ingredients, Jennifer from Sassafras Catering had to pry the cameras out of our hands and drag us kicking and screaming over to Kitchen Cru for our canning session.  Honestly, I could have stayed at that market all day long.  Between the sights, smells and glorious weather, I couldn’t think of a more pleasant place to be.

Kitchen Cru is a shared use community kitchen.  It offers the use of a fully equipped, licensed, commercial kitchen and private event space for small catering businesses, private chefs and cooking instructors.    The facility also provides support services and business development guidance for their clients, like Sassafras Catering.  It’s a terrific and much more affordable option for these small businesses.  Without the financial burden and upkeep of maintaining their own kitchens, they can focus on the food – and that’s what it’s all about.

At our workshop, Jennifer and her partner, Erin, taught us the basics of canning and preserving as we made a big batch of tomato jam. Before we knew it, we were slicing and dicing a huge basket filled with drop dead gorgeous heirloom tomatoes.  Look at those happy faces!

The tomatoes were cooked down for a good, long time with lots of sugar and some aromatic spices, like ginger, cumin and coriander.  Then, the jam was ladled into prepared jars and tucked into a boiling water bath.

Here are the fruits of our labor.

Next, was a fabulous lunch prepared by more of Portland’s rock star chefs, Jenn Lewis of Lincoln Restaurant, Chris Israel of Gruner and Kask, and Scott Dolich of Park Kitchen and The Bent Brick.  Of course, great food also needs some great wine, so we also had Hilda and Hannah Jones from Abacela Winery and Rollin Soles from Argyle Winery on hand with some of their best vintages.

Here’s a picture of Helene making a picture of the Kitchen Cru crew.  Hehe!  I don’t think she knows I got this one.

After lunch, one group left to learn how to make artisan ice cream.  Another, went to fine tune their prowess at making cocktails.  And for the rest of us, it was all about charcuterie, baby!    Eric and Paula from Chop Butchery taught us how to make homemade pancetta and a divine little bourbon chicken liver pâté.   Mercy!

Here’s Sean taking a shot of the flambé.    You may recall that we were trapped in an elevator together on the 45th floor of our Atlanta hotel during BlogHer Food.  We’re soulmates now.  I love him!

The grand finale of our wonderful Portland adventure took us back to the beautiful Willamette Valley for a farewell banquet at the Penner-Ash Wine Cellars.  Ron and Lynn Penner-Ash were our most gracious hosts for a gala dinner and wine tasting at their lush and scenic winery.   It was a time to kick back and relax among the rolling hills and fields of wildflowers.

Chef Vitaly Paley of Paley’s Place cooked up a sumptuous feast for us.   During the cocktail hour, there was an amazing seafood bar overflowing with mounds of local Dungeness crab, spicy scallop ceviche and various kinds of Pacific oysters.  A few steps away, there was a charcuterie bar loaded with cured meats, cheeses and pâté.   It was a foodie’s dream!

By the time I sat down to dinner, I must confess that I was pretty much stuffed, and more than a little drunk.  (I should have gone a little easier on that crab.)  But, I took one for the team and forced myself to eat at least a few bites of each impeccably prepared course.   All of the food was sourced from local farms and producers, including Vindian Farms, River’s Edge Chevre, La Mariposa and Carman Ranch.

To complement all of the deliciousness, we sipped wines from King Estate Winery, Apolloni Vineyards, Troon Vineyard and of course, Penner-Ash.

As all good things must come to an end, eventually it was time to say goodbye to our new friends and head back to Portland.  As I struggled to keep my eyes open on the bus ride back, the snippets of conversation that drifted by made me smile.  What a weekend it had been – for all of us!  Oregon is a magical place, and I am so grateful that I not only had the opportunity to experience it, but that I got to do so with such a talented and creative group of people.

My sincerest thanks goes out to Travel Oregon for inviting me into their little slice of heaven, and for making me feel valued and special.    I’d also like to thank all of the participating chefs, growers,  winemakers and artisan producers.  Their dedication to their crafts, commitment to sustainability and respect for the land is an inspiration to me and an example that we can all follow.  And  last but not least, I thank my fellow travelers just for being the great group of bloggers that they are.  I couldn’t imagine sharing this experience with a more fun bunch!  I enjoyed spending time with each one of them and look forward to the next time our paths cross.

When we arrived at Kitchen Cru on Saturday morning, the ladies from Sassafras had tall, chilled glasses of watermelon lemonade waiting for us. It was wonderful! So wonderful, in fact, that I probably drank a whole gallon of the stuff all by myself. Tomato jam aside, I knew that when I got home I would be making that lemonade.   While I didn’t use their exact recipe, I think my version, inspired by the original, comes pretty darn close.

This lemonade is light, refreshing and utterly delicious. Plus, it’s one of the prettiest shades of red you’ll ever see. It is made by pureeing fresh watermelon and adding a lemon and basil infused simple syrup. Basil does wonderful things when paired with fresh fruits, and it’s a natural in this drink.

You can adjust the sweetness of the lemonade by adding more or less of the syrup to your taste. Plus, you can take it up a notch by adding a shot of vodka or gin for a grown up version.

I’m still able to find watermelon in the markets here, but I’m sure not for long.   So, if you’re looking to celebrate summer’s last hurrah, hurry and make some basil-infused watermelon lemonade – while you still can.

My father had the most magnificent fig tree in his yard.  It was about twenty-five feet tall and the breadth of its branches was almost as wide.  Though he would never actually confirm it, the rumor is that he bred the tree using cuttings smuggled here from a bigger and even more magnificent fig tree that sits on the grounds of his ancestral home in Italy.  I have seen that original tree with my own eyes, and eaten its fruit.  It is amazing!

Dad’s fig tree was the jewel in his garden.  He babied and fussed over it.  He nurtured it through winters that were too cold and summers that were too hot.  That tree was the Goldilocks of fig trees.  Everything about it was just right, including the lush, moist fruit that grew from it.  Dad’s figs were almost the size of small fists!  Ripened by the sun, their flesh was so sweet that droplets of dew-like nectar oozed freely from them.   There was nothing – and, I mean nothing, people – that could rival the taste of my father’s figs.

Almost five years ago, on a grey November day, cancer stole my father away.  Within two weeks, the fig tree dropped all of its leaves, shriveled up and died.  I kid you not.  It was like the tree was in mourning and died of a broken heart. The only sign of life that has come from that tree since is the occasional appearance of a gorgeous, crimson cardinal, who swoops in from time to time and perches itself on a bare, brittle branch.   The bird just sits there, calmly looks around for a minute or two, and then flies off again.

None of us has the heart to chop down the fig tree.  Dad loved that tree, and to do so would almost be like losing him all over again.  So it still stands in its place beside the house as a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

Perhaps it is because of all of those wonderful, homegrown fresh figs I’ve devoured in my life, that I’m in so love with them.    Even now, I have a hard time passing them up when I find them at the market.  Sadly, they’re not quite the same when they come out of a plastic container.   I still buy them however, even though I’m often disappointed.

Another thing I can’t pass up is a good deal.  A few days ago, my market was having a BOGO sale on fresh figs.  They looked really lovely, so I slipped two quarts in my shopping cart, hoping that they would be good.  As I suspected, they were all style and no substance.  Out of the two dozen or so that I had, only about six were worth eating.  The rest were a little hard and dry, and the only thing I could think of that might save them was heat.  I find it intriguing how stewing, baking or roasting lackluster fruits can bring them back to life.  I’ve tried it with  berries, peaches, tomatoes and now, figs.  It works every time.

I thought about making some kind of tart with my figs, but honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to make a crust.  So, I decided that they would be just as delicious in a clafoutis.  For those who don’t know, a clafoutis is a French dessert where fruit is baked in a custard base.  Think of it as a crustless pie.   Traditionally, a clafoutis is made with cherries, but almost any kind of firm fruit will work well.   I love the combination of figs and honey, so I also decided to use that instead of sugar.

Despite its fancy, French name, making a clafoutis is very easy.  The first thing you need to do is cut up your fruit and artfully arrange them in a pie plate or glass baking dish.

Then, whizz up the rest of the ingredients in a blender and pour it over the fruit.

Bake the clafoutis until the custard sets and the top is nicely browned.

Look at how pretty it is!  And it tastes as good as it looks, too.  The custard was rich and creamy, with soft floral notes from the honey and the splash of orange flour water I also added.    Once baked, the figs took on a soft, jammy quality, and their sweetness intensified.   It was a lovely and elegant dessert that took hardly any effort at all.

I wish I had known about things like clafoutis when my father was around.  As delightful as this one was, I can’t help but wonder how spectacular it could have been with his figs.

*Photo of cardinal from iStockphoto.com

In just a few short days the kids will be heading back to school, and parents everywhere will be breathing a collective sigh of relief. Summer vacation can be tough on us moms and dads! Sure, it was great not having to get up at the brink of dawn these past few months. And, I’ve especially enjoyed not having to fight those homework wars. But I have to admit that I’m really looking forward to getting back into my own groove again.

This school year is going to be a bittersweet one for me. In less than a week, Mini SGCC will be beginning her senior year in high school. I can hardly believe it!  It seems like only yesterday I was telling you that she was just starting high school. There have a lot of changes and challenges in our family these past three years, not the least of which has been my beautiful child’s journey to become the extraordinary young woman she was meant to be.  It’s exciting and scary at the same time. 

I’ve tried to be a good role model for her, sometimes with success, and sometimes with miserable failure.  In spite of our many similarities, we are very different people, and my choices are not always going to be her choices.  One of the hardest things for me to learn has been when to keep my  mouth shut.  I’m still working on that.

These days, our lives revolve around the SAT, the ACT and college applications, while trying to maintain some kind of balance.  My head is spinning.   So is Mr. SGCC’s.  Mini SGCC seems to be taking it all in stride as she hurtles forward a mile a minute.

Although I often feel powerless  on this e-ticket ride to my daughter’s future, one thing I do have some control over is the food goes into her body.  It’s no surprise that teenagers have the worst eating habits, especially in times of stress.  But, I’ve found that if I keep tasty, healthful and easy food choices on hand, Mini SGCC will usually indulge in them.  These Whole Grain Krispie Granola Bars are one of her favorites.

Regardless of your kids’ ages, one universal challenge that comes along with a new school year is getting them to eat something reasonably healthy for breakfast in the morning and as snacks throughout the day.  Granola bars are a popular choice.  But, the store bought kinds are often dry and dense, bearing a striking resemblance to toasted sawdust.   Most kids do love cereal bars, but many of them contain high fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated palm oil, which are deal breakers for me!

My way around this dilemma is to whip up these wholesome and incredibly delicious whole grain granola bars from scratch. They’re made with rolled oats, dried fruits, nuts and crisped brown rice, glued together with honey, pure maple syrup and almond butter. Trust me. They are addictive!

The beauty of this recipe is that it takes very little time and effort to put together. Just mix the ingredients in a bowl, press into a pan and bake. Any combination of fruits and nuts will work here, as will any kind of nut butter.  I’ve made these bars many times using both almond butter and peanut butter.  I prefer them with almond butter, but Mini SGCC likes the ones with peanut butter best.  (It figures!)  Use whichever works for you.

Get your kids – and yourself – off to a good start this school year with Whole Grain Krispie Granola Bars. Served with low-fat yogurt for a nutritious breakfast or tucked into their backpacks for a mid-day snack, these bars score an A+!

When I was a little girl, my mother had two sets of dishes: the “everyday” dishes” and the “good” ones.  The everyday dishes were, of course, the ones we used for meals every day.  The “good” set only came out for holidays and special occasions. She had a set of “good” glassware too.  They only made an appearance when the “good” dishes were being used.  I never understood why that was.  The  good dishes were much prettier and nicer than the “everyday” ones.  Why didn’t we use them all the time?  What were we saving them for?  Didn’t we deserve to eat off of the good stuff?

My mother had special guest soaps in the bathroom too.  They were shaped like little flowers and they smelled wonderful.   But, we weren’t allowed to use them either.  Mom said they were “just for show”.  We used bars of Ivory or Camay.   I didn’t get that either.  Why shouldn’t we use those pretty and yummy smelling soaps for “everyday”?

Our house was full of things that were only for company or “just for show”.  I remember telling myself then that, when I grew up and had a home of my own, I’d always use the good china and fancy soaps – every day.  But,  I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, because I often find myself doing the same darn thing!   I have to constantly remind myself that my family is the most important thing in the world. They deserve the good stuff – every day! 

Likewise, there are cakes I bake just for company, and cakes I bake for “everyday”.  The “everyday” cakes are usually very plain and uncomplicated little numbers to enjoy with our morning coffee, or nibble on for an afternoon pick-me-up.  Rarely does an “everyday” cake cross over into the more elite “company” category.  With their swooshy, swirly mounds of buttercream, and layers of assorted ooey, gooey fillings, “company” cakes are meant to impress.  Those cakes are the showstoppers.   This Peachy Keen Buttermilk Cake is different.   It isn’t fancy, but it is special.   It’s simple, elegant, and appropriate for almost any occasion.  It’s the little black dress of cakes.

I first saw this unassuming little cake flitting around the blogosphere more than a year ago, only then it was sporting raspberries.  I just knew I would love it,  and I bookmarked it.  Then, distracted by other, flashier showoff cakes, I forgot about it.  The other day I found myself with a container of buttermilk about to expire and a few peaches that were past their prime.  I was trying to think of a way to save them both, when I remembered “the cake”.  Ah yes, the cake!  It was the perfect thing!

With only a handful of basic ingredients, this cake is incredibly quick and easy to make.  Aside from the time it takes for the butter to soften, the batter can be whipped up less than ten minutes – and that includes peeling and chopping the peaches.  Plus, you get the added benefit of having your whole house filled with the most delightful aroma as it bakes.   It has a lovely, light, fluffy crumb, enveloped in a firm, slightly crackly crust.  When cooled to room temperature, it slices beautifully.  The bits of peaches throughout add a little bright pop of flavor to every bite.

This cake was such a huge hit at my house, that I’m already getting hounded to bake another one.  Why not?  I still have some buttermilk and another peach in the fridge.  This time, I think I’ll dig out the good china.   And, maybe even the sterling silver.  Just for us, because we’re worth it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and wash my hands with some fancy, schmancy scented guest soaps.

Last week, I made a batch of the most luscious homemade ricotta cheese.   I do this often.  Ricotta is super easy to make, and the homemade stuff is so, so delicious.   Unfortunately, I got a distracted and left it draining in cheesecloth longer than I’d planned.  The result was an incredibly smooth, thick and creamy product that reminded me a little of mascarpone.  For the next few days we spread it on bagels and muffins.  We made a crazy good crostini with it and heirloom tomatoes from our garden one night too.  And, when no one else was looking, I just scooped it up with a spoon.   It was heavenly!

As I was scraping the last bit of my lovely ricotta out of its container, it dawned on me that it would make the perfect filling for a tart.  One with fresh fruit – like berries.  Strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.  A Red, White & Blue Ricotta Tart for the Fourth of July.  Hah!  Sometimes, I dazzle myself so much with my own brilliance, that I need to wear sunglasses inside.

So, I made another batch of ricotta, grabbed a whole bunch of berries and whipped up this fabulous tart for our Fourth of July celebration.  And, you can too!   

As I mentioned above, making your own ricotta is quite easy to do.  I’ve used a few different recipes, and this one is my current favorite.  But, you can certainly save some time and make this tart with store bought ricotta.  The trick to turning it into a wonderful mascarpone-like filling is in the draining.   Commercial ricotta is very “wet”.  By letting it sit in a strainer lined with cheesecloth, all of the excess moisture drains out and you’re left with a nice, thick cheese.  It’s the same as making strained yogurt – only you do it with ricotta. (Whoa!  I’m good!)

While your ricotta is draining, the first thing you need to do is make the crust.  I chose a simple graham cracker crust, but you can make any kind you want.  By the time your crust is completely cooled, the ricotta should be ready for your filling.

Fill the tart shell with the ricotta filling and smooth it out.  I like to chill it for a while at this point so that the berries don’t “sink” when I put them on top.  You can use this time to make the glaze for the berries.  Or, for taking a nap.  I recommend making the glaze.  You can take a nap later.

Once the filling is chilled and the berries are all dressed in their shiny glaze, it’s time to decorate your tart.

I like to keep it simple so there’s less chance of me screwing things up.  For this tart, I halved the strawberries and lined them up around the perimeter of the tart, like a border.   Then, I just piled the blueberries and raspberries right in the middle.  I could have arranged them in a fancy design or even made “stars” and “stripes” to look like a flag, but honestly, who has that kind of time!  Besides, I like that casual and kind of tossed together look they have.  I think it’s pretty.  So there!

Here’s a gratuitous shot of the blueberries and raspberries in the center of the tart.  I just liked the bokeh.

Before you serve your tart, you should let it chill out in the fridge for a few more hours – especially if you plan to photograph it.  Trust me, this will make it easier and a lot neater to cut.

Here’s what it looks like on the inside.  Since I’m planning to serve my tart this weekend, I just chopped off a slice from one end. After I took a few pictures, I stuck it back on, and put a few more berries on top to camouflage the cut. I don’t think anyone will notice, but if they do – tough!   Ah!  The things I do for you, my dear readers!

While I didn’t actually eat any of this tart, (remember, I’m saving it for this weekend), I did make myself a teeny, tiny one to taste.  After all, how could I tell you how scrumptious it is if I didn’t try it myself?  And, it definitely is scrumptious!  The filling is light and fluffy, but not too sweet.  It makes a perfect backdrop for those gorgeous, fresh, juicy berries.  The graham cracker crust is appropriately crunchy, yet not hard enough to chip a tooth on.  (Yes.  That has happened before.)  And, that berry topping is…well…that berry topping just sends the whole thing right over the top!

Remember that luscious rhubarb berry jam I made last week?  Well, we’ve been enjoying the heck out of it here at Chez SGCC.  I’ve slathered it on homemade bread, spooned it into creamy yogurt and cooked it into a few tasty recipes.  I also baked some into these delectable Rhubarb Berry Crumb Bars, which have spoiled me forever.  From now until the end of time, every other crumb bar that I put past my lips will pale in comparison.  That’s how incredibly good these are.

I adapted the recipe for these bars from the one for Blueberry Almond Crumble Bars that I wrote about a few years ago.  The original recipe used whole berries.  I thought about doing the same with these, but I wanted to get that deeply concentrated fruity flavor that only comes with slow cooking the fruit down into a thick, jammy pool of goodness.  Besides, the whole point of me making the jam in the first place was to extend the life of that beautiful and rarely found rhubarb I managed to get hold of. 

If you’re so inclined, you can find lots of recipes for various different kinds of crumb bars around the web.   Some have cakey bases; some are like brownies.  My crumb bars have a more of a cookie crust – like a shortbread.  A crunchy, buttery and delicious shortbread.  And, the genius thing about it is that the same dough for the base is also used to make the crumb topping.  I love when I can kill two birds with one stone.   Um…wait a minute.  While lots of fruit was pulverized and butter was creamed, no birds were killed in the making of these crumb bars.  Just want to be clear on that.  No need to get the folks from  PETA all in a twist.

These rhubarb berry crumb bars are ridiculously easy to make, and require no electrical equipment – except for an oven, that is.  All you really need are a big bowl, a fork and a pan to bake them in.  That means you can whip up a batch before you sit down to dinner, and have them ready to enjoy by the time you’ve finished doing the dishes.  And, who wouldn’t love a good crumb bar to keep you company during a riveting episode of America’s Got Talent?

Rhubarb Berry Crumb Bars will keep at room temperature for a few days in an airtight container, although they probably won’t last that long.  If you want to hide save some for later, they can also be frozen.  I actually liked them better chilled.

Every year around this time, I find myself feeling out of the loop and a bit frustrated.  It seems like all the other food bloggers are surrounded by a bounty of fresh rhubarb and are proudly flaunting their mouthwatering rhubarb creations, while I remain pathetically rhubarb-less.    I’m not sure why, but I rarely ever find fresh  rhubarb in my local markets.   And, the once in a while that I do stumble upon some, it’s always just a few sad, little, washed out stalks that, honestly, I’d be embarrassed to put in my shopping cart.  So imagine my near delirium when I was placing my weekly order with SunCoast Organics and saw that rhubarb was on the list.  I ordered two pounds.  Squeeeeee!

In anticipation of receiving my booty, I scoured the above mentioned bloggers’ sites for some rhubarb inspiration.  Since I have very little experience with the this reedy Rheum rhabarbarum, I wanted to explore its possibilities.  I also wanted to choose a recipe that would give me the most bang for my buck, as I didn’t know when I would find it again (and also because it was $5.00 a pound).   All of the rhubarb pies, tarts and galettes looked tempting, but short-lived.  A few bites, and they’re gone.  Yes people, pastry is fleeting, but jam, on the other hand, is forever – or at least a lot more long lasting.  So, I decided to turn my rhubarb into a jam that could be spread on hot, fresh bread, added to chutneys and morphed into an assortment of luscious baked goods.

Although used more frequently in desserts, rhubarb is actually a vegetable.  On their own, the fibrous stalks are quite sour, with a sharp bite.  Think of a very tart stalk of celery and you’ll get the idea.  But, cook it with sugar and various fruits, and it is transformed.  The most popular rhubarb pairing is with strawberries, as in strawberry rhubarb pie.  I thought about making a strawberry rhubarb jam, but that was too predictable for me.  Dare to be different, I always say!  Okay, I actually don’t always say that, but I do think it sometimes.  and, this was one of those times.  Besides, my market had a multitude of other berries on sale, so I grabbed some juicy, ripe blackberries and raspberries along with the strawberries and went home to make jam.

I found several yummy looking rhubarb berry jam recipes online, and adapted a few to come up with one that worked for me.  Though I’m pretty much a jam-making novice, I find the whole process to be pretty easy.  My apple butter experiment a few months ago was a great success.  And, once before that, I made the most marvelous raspberry jam completely by accident when a batch of pate de fruit didn’t set up properly.   All you really need are some good ingredients, canning jars and time.

To start, you need to prep your rhubarb.  I peeled all of the woody, outside parts off and sliced mine into small pieces.

Then, rinse and drain the fresh berries.  You can use frozen berries if you want.  I never have, so I can’t tell you much about that.

After that, it’s time to cook all that rhubarb and fruit down with lots of sugar until it becomes a thick, rich, intensely flavored jam.  David Lebovitz uses apple juice instead of commercial pectin products to thicken his jams, as apples contain a high concentration of natural pectin.  Since I forgot to buy pectin and had some apple juice in my fridge, I went with that.

It took about forty-five minutes for my rhubarb and berries to become jam.  All I did was let them bubble on the stove until they were a thick, pulpy puree.

While the jam was cooking, jelling and cooling, I whipped up a batch of my favorite English muffin bread to go with it.  Just look at all those nooks and crannies!  Sooooo good!

Honestly, this was probably one of the best jams I have ever tasted.  I am completely besotted with it!  It was so rich and lush!  The combination of berries gave it a deep, dark, sweet flavor, and the rhubarb added just the perfect amount of tartness.  My family absolutely loved it, as did the select few I chose to share it with.  And I must say, I was pretty stingy with the sharing.

I decided not to process my jam in a water bath because I wasn’t making a huge amount and I knew it would be scarfed down consumed pretty quickly.  The jam should keep well in the fridge for at least a month.   I kept a few pints for us to spread on toast, croissants, etc., and  the rest was turned into some scrumptious rhubarb-berry crumble bars and a smoky, spicy chutney.

If you would like to preserve your jam, I’ve given some basic directions here.  The USDA also has an excellent guide to home canning, which is where I got my information.

So let me tell you people, if you’ve never made homemade jam, you’re really missing out.  Aside from the fact that homemade jam tastes out of this world, the satisfaction of knowing that you made it yourself feels so great.  And, most folks don’t realize how easy jam is to make, so all of your friends and family will think you’re a regular Martha Stewart when you gift them with a jar (if you can bear to part with any).

As for me?  I’m so thrilled that I finally got my grubby little pars on that beautiful, fresh rhubarb!  Now, I can hold my head up high again in the food blogosphere.  I am a rhubarb outcast no longer.  My life is complete!

When I spied the first Bing cherries of the season at the market the other day,  I delightedly stashed a few pounds in my cart.    Yes, I know that it’s still a little early for them to be at their peak, but after being cherry deprived for nearly a year, I  couldn’t resist stocking up.  When I plucked a  few out of the bag to snack on later that day, I sadly realized that, as pretty as they were, they were not the sweet, juicy, intensely flavored Bings I’d been pining for.  Bummer!  Still, at $7.99 a pound, I wasn’t about to waste them.  Roasting or baking mediocre fruits always seems to improve their flavor, so I decided to bake my cherries up in a pie.

I’d always heard that Bing cherries weren’t the best kind to use in pies – something about them being too sweet.  Well, that wasn’t going to be a problem here.  My  cherries were definitely on the right side of tart.  Besides, if I waited for fresh sour cherries to make an appearance in these parts, I’d be baking pie in the old folks home.  I’ve never, ever seen them here and probably never will.  So I adapt, and turn my lemons into lemonade – or in this case – my under ripe Bing cherries into a scrumptious cherry pie.

In retrospect, I should have known just by looking at those cherries.  Most of them were still too red.

I used my handy, dandy cherry pitter to relieve my cherries of their pits.  If you don’t have one of these nifty little gadgets, you should get one – especially if you love cherries as much as I do.  The cherries take a fraction of the time to pit, and they look a lot prettier too.

By the way, that is Mr. SGCC’s hand in the picture.  I do not -  I repeat -  DO NOT have hairy knuckles!

To make the pie filling, the cherries are mixed with sugar, cornstarch, lemon juice and just a dash of almond extract.  For some reason almond really enhances the flavor of cherries.  I also added some cherry preserves to the filling.  I did this partly to add more “cherryness” to it, but also to add a little more thickness.  It doesn’t matter how much cornstarch or flour I add to fruit pie fillings, they always give off too much liquid.  It’s maddening!   I’d like to say this trick worked like a charm, but it didn’t.  The pie was still a little too watery for my taste, but it not as much as usual.  And, it did taste amazingly good.

To make the crust, I used my current favorite all butter pie crust recipe.  No shortening-based pie crusts for me, thankyouverymuch!  I’m on team butter all the way.

Cherry pies traditionally have a lattice crust on top.  I eschew lattice crusts, mostly because I don’t have one of those crinkly-edged cutter thingies.  And also, because I can never get them right.  No matter how careful I am, the strips always stretch and tear when I try to weave them together.   Instead, I decided to make a nice, summery flower crust.  I just used a flower shaped cookie cutter to cut out a bunch of dough flowers, and placed them around the top of the pie.  I’m a regular prodigy when it comes to using cookie cutters.   Plus, it’s a whole lot easier and I think it looks even prettier.

See how nice those flowers look?  I’m calling them cherry blossoms.

Don’t forget to brush a little egg wash on top.

And, sprinkle on some turbinado or coarse sugar to give the crust some crunch.

Then bake the pie, and wait for the most heavenly smells to waft through your house.  You should probably close the windows, though, or else the whole neighborhood will be knocking on your door.

Ah!  Ba da Bing Cherry Pie.  Fuhgeddaboudit!