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!

As I write this post, I’m hanging my head in shame.  You see, dear readers, I’ve been holding out on you.  Not intentionally, mind you, but holding out just the same.  The other day, as I was sifting through recipes to include in my Easter brunch roundup, I re-read my old post on Savory Vegetable Noodle Kugel and realized something.  In that post I told you about a fab recipe for a Cherry Noodle Kugel that I was going to share.  And, I never did.  I swear, I meant to!  It just never happened.  My sin was one of omission, and I intend to rectify it right now!    Since this week also marks the beginning of the Jewish celebration  of Passover, I think it’s the perfect time to do it.    Besides, it gives me an excuse to make this wickedly good kugel again.

Now, before I get thousands of comments informing me that Jews don’t eat wheat products during Passover, let me say that I do know that.  However, Passover is a Jewish holiday and kugel is a Jewish dish, so I’m using one to segue into the other.  Besides, I also know that there are “Passover noodles” made with potato starch, and other gluten-free pasta products available at the supermarket.  Any of them would work in this dish.

I acquired this recipe more years ago than I care to remember from a sweet, Jewish “Bubbe” named Esther.  She and her husband, Jerry, had been old friends of my family for ages.  Since my own grandparents were already gone, I kind of secretly adopted them as surrogates.  Esther was originally from Brooklyn, so she definitely knew a few things about kugel.  Come to think of it, she knew a few things about brisket too.  And, matzoh balls.  But that’s a story for another day. 

Where my vegetable kugel is a savory dish, Esther’s kugel is a sweet one, making it a great choice for dessert.  It also makes for a tasty breakfast and a very satisfying late night nosh.  It’s rich and creamy and fruity.  And, who doesn’t love that?

The recipe for this dish couldn’t be easier.  A simple custard made from eggs, milk, cream cheese, sour cream and sugar is whizzed up in the blender.  Then, it is poured over cooked egg noodles and baked.  A topping of cherry pie filling is added during the last fifteen minutes of baking time.  When everything is browned and bubbly, the kugel is done.  That’s it!

I like to use super fine egg noodles in this kugel, because it gives the dish a smoother, more custardy texture.   Feel free to use the wider ones if that’s what you prefer.  Your kugel won’t be any less scrumptious – and it will be scrumptious.

Whatever you celebrate, make. this. kugel.  You’ll be glad you did.  And, if Esther were here, she would be too.

Although he grew most of the vegetables we ate, my father wasn’t really much into cooking.   He was in charge of salads and made eggs on Sundays, but that was pretty much the extent of it.  Dad did, however, have a few signature dishes that he  loved to prepare – and he did so with great gusto!  One of said dishes was a frittata.

A frittata is a fancy, Italian name for a baked, open-faced omelet.  It’s an egg-based dish that usually contains  a combination of various vegetables, cheese and meat.  The cooking is started on the stove and then finished off in the oven.  It is very similar to the Spanish dish,  tortilla de patatas, except that there is no flipping involved, making it much easier to execute.

Frittatas were always on the menu at my house on “meatless” meal days like Christmas Eve and Fridays during Lent.  My dad would thoughtfully plan what to include in his frittatas based on what was growing in his garden at the time.  His favorite kind was filled with caramelized onions, fresh asparagus, mushrooms and big hunks of mozzarella cheese.   He would prepare each component of the dish separately, and with the skill of an architect, would carefully construct his creation before cooking it.  Then, Dad would strut into the dining room, proud as a peacock, and present his masterpiece to us. I can still see his face, beaming with satisfaction and delight!  My father’s frittatas always turned out perfectly – much better than mine ever do.  I wish I had paid more attention to his technique.  I guess I just thought that he would always be around to make them.    Sigh…

While it looks rather impressive, a frittata is a super simple dish to prepare, with lots of room for creativity.  And, it works equally well for breakfast, lunch or dinner.  You can put just about anything but the kitchen sink in it too, making it a great choice for when you need to purge your fridge.   This frittata is filled with onions, potatoes, ham and Parmesan cheese, which is what I happened to have handy on the night I made it.   If I had planned ahead, I would have probably also added mushrooms and some mozzarella or provolone chunks.  It’s all good!

Do you ever make frittatas?  What are your favorite things to put in them?  I’d love to hear your ideas in the comments.

I’ve always been somewhat of a food purist.  I’m probably the only person over the age of five that actually prefers a plain cheese pizza to one with a zillion toppings.  Pasta nirvana for me is a bowl of spaghetti with Marcella Hazan’s three ingredient tomato sauce.   And, I take my vanilla ice cream straight up – no add-ins, thankyouverymuch.   Actually, my very favorite ice cream flavor is fior di latte, which doesn’t even have vanilla in it.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate more complex flavor combinations, because I do.   But sometimes,  I just like to savor the purity of really good ingredients, like fresh, local, organic cream from happy cows; or sweet and juicy, ripened by the sun, heirloom tomatoes.  And, I love that soft tug against my teeth when I bite into a buttery, melting mass of fresh mozzarella that was made by real hands.

I like my panna cotta straight up as well.   I also enjoy it flavored different ways.  But to me, nothing says heaven more than a soft, pillowy cloud of simply sweetened, pristine creaminess, adorned  by nothing more than a smattering of fresh berries.    Oooh!  I get goosebumps just thinking about it!

Panna Cotta is one of the easiest desserts to make.  Yet, it is so elegant and luxurious, one would never guess.    This basic “fior di Latte”, or “flower of milk” panna cotta recipe only contains three ingredients: cream or milk, sugar and gelatin. That’s it!  And, you can whip up a batch in under fifteen minutes.   If you want to jazz your panna cotta  up a bit, you can add any number of different flavorings to the base, as well as a variety of toppings.  I’ve tried it with everything from instant espresso powder to  fruit purees.  It’s all good.    That’s why this recipe such a “must have” in anyone’s dessert repertoire.  Its ease and versatility make it perfect for every occasion.

Today, I’m sharing panna cotta “di due fiori”, i.e. “with two flowers”.  The first is the basic, unadulterated version, which can be topped with any kind of fresh fruit, gelée, or coulis.  The second one is a panna cotta di fiori di arancia, which translates to orange flowers.  Both recipes are identical, except that I’ve added some orange flower water to flavor the second one.  Orange flower water is a popular ingredient in Italian desserts.  It has a subtle floral quality, and is wonderfully fragrant.  You can find orange flower water at most Italian or Middle Eastern markets, as well as online.

I’ve garnished my plain panna cotta here with fresh blueberries and the orange ones with some of the candied kumquats that I made last week.  Candied orange peel would also be a good choice.  Or, you could just leave it plain and revel in its silky creaminess and sublime simplicity.

When I served this Buffalo Chicken Dip last weekend during the play-off games, the hungry football fans at my house went wild!  In fact, Mr. SGCC told me not to bother making Buffalo wings anymore because this dish was easier to make and eat, and was just as delicious.  I don’t know if was just the beer talking, but it was quite a testimonial!

The first time I saw this dip was about a year ago at this time.  I was shopping at my neighborhood supermarket and my friend Jeanne, the Publix Aprons lady, was handing out samples of an almost identical dish.  Jeanne is great!  She was a caterer, food writer and cooking instructor in the Boston area before moving down here several years ago.  Now, she cooks up lots of tasty stuff at Publix.   I always stop by her makeshift store “kitchen” for both good food and conversation.  If you get a chance, check out her new blog,  Sola Gina Nella Cucina: Cooking On My Own.  It’s a good read with lots of great recipes.

Now, where was I?  Oh yes, the dip.  I remember thinking at the time that this dip was the perfect nosh for sitting in front of the TV, watching football.   It has all the great flavors of Buffalo wings, without the mess or the bones.  I slipped a copy of the recipe in my purse with every intention of making it.  Yeah, well the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and so, apparently, is the road to my kitchen.  Winter melted into Spring and football season was long gone.   That recipe card sat  in the corner of my kitchen counter for months and I never got around to making it.  When I finally was ready to make it, I couldn’t find that darn recipe anywhere!  I couldn’t find Jeanne anywhere either.  She had taken a few days off to spend some time with her kids.  

I remembered which ingredients I needed for the dip, but not the measurements.   I searched the Aprons web site – several times.  The recipe wasn’t there.   By this time I had become a little obsessed.  So, I turned to Google.  I found several different versions of Buffalo chicken dip, but none were exactly how I remembered it.   The closest came from the Baltimore Nesties Cookbook web site.  I have no idea who the Baltimore Nesties are, but I owe them one for that recipe.  I adapted it based on what I remembered of Jeanne’s recipe.

To make this dip, you will need a rotisserie chicken from the supermarket, cream cheese, bottled buffalo wing sauce, blue cheese dressing, chopped scallions and shredded cheddar.   Just heat up the cream cheese, wing sauce and dressing, toss with the chicken and scallions, sprinkle on the cheddar and pop it in the oven.  That’s it!    You can serve it with crackers, tortilla chips or even crudités, if you want.  Personally, I think it would be fab served with those big scoop-shaped Fritos.  Wish I’d had some of those when I made it.

This recipe is super easy, and takes hardly any time at all to make. If you made it during the Super Bowl, you could probably pull it together during the half time show.   And, it is so, so good!  Creamy, cheesy and spicy all at the same time!

If Buffalo wings are a Super Bowl tradition at your house, why not try this dish instead?  Whether you’re a Giants or a Patriots fan, this Buffalo Chicken Dip is something everyone will root for!

I have been dreaming about this cauliflower soup ever since I first saw it on the Food 52 site last month.  I don’t know why.   There’s nothing at all that’s fancy about it.   And, it’s probably one of the simplest soups in the world to make.   But, something about it just spoke to me – or rather gently whispered in my ear, over and over again.  It looked so light and bright and pure – almost cleansing, in a way.   I filed away the recipe, knowing that I would get back to it as soon as I found some beautiful, fresh cauliflower that was worthy of it. 

This recipe for this soup comes from Paul Bertolli’s book, Cooking by Hand.  Bertolli was a chef at the famed Chez Panisse for over ten years, so it’s not surprising that he knows exactly how to make a cauliflower sing.  And, sing it does!  There are only five ingredients in this soup, and one of them is water.   None of them are butter or cream.  Yet, it is so smooth and velvety, you’d never guess.  It’s the perfect little, guilt-free indulgence after eating your way through a long Holiday season.

To start, onions are sautéed in olive oil over low heat until they are tender and sweet.

Then, the cauliflower is added and stewed with the onions.  After that, the water is added to the pot and everything simmers.   I swapped out a cup or so of the water with some chicken stock.  You don’t need to do this.  I just did because I had some broth in the fridge that I needed to use.

Once the cauliflower has finished cooking, the whole pot is pureed into the smoothest, most divinely luxurious soup you’ll ever taste.  I swear!  But, don’t take my word for it.   Make a pot for yourself.  Then, slide into your fluffiest bathrobe, put some cool cucumber slices over your eyes and pretend you’re at a fancy schmancy spa.

Thanksgiving is, without a doubt, the most food centric holiday of the year. And, anyone who has ever prepared a Thanksgiving dinner knows how much work – and stress – is involved. We obsess over every little detail as we strive to wow our families and friends with our culinary prowess. But nobody’s perfect, and sometimes even the best-laid plans go awry. That’s when it helps to have a few tricks up your sleeve.

One year, my mother-in-law accidentally turned my oven on to “broil” while I had two beautiful pumpkin pies baking in it. As I sifted through the ashes of my poor, incinerated pies, I just wanted to cry! Actually, I did cry. But then my creative spirit kicked in, and I came up with this super quick and easy alternative using ingredients that I already had in my pantry.  

Pumpkin Pie Parfaits with Gingersnap Crumbles are a riff on a traditional pumpkin pie. They have all the delicious components of the classic, with a fraction of the effort. The parfaits can either be made the day of or prepared in advance. Thus, they won’t take up valuable real estate in your oven.

The base of these parfaits is a cool and creamy custard made with cook and serve vanilla pudding mix and canned pumpkin puree. The custard is layered with freshly whipped cream and spicy, crunchy gingersnap and pecan crumbles. Despite their humble beginnings, they make a lovely and elegant holiday dessert.

Whether served in pretty wine goblets or funky vintage jars, your guests will never suspect that these scrumptious, little Thanksgiving treats didn’t take hours to prepare.

Seriously!  Are these little jars filled with creamy peanut butter and banana lusciousness not the cutest things ever?  I could just eat them up with a spoon.  As a matter of fact, I did just that.  And they were wonderful. I call them Peanut Butter Banana Cream Pies in a Jar, because…well…because that’s pretty much what they are.  They include all of the components of a classic pie, except they’re layered in small, self-contained, single serving jars.  Pretty clever, huh?  Yeah.  I think so too.

I was cleaning out a few things in my prop room, when I came across some Bormioli canning jars that I didn’t even remember I had.  I couldn’t find the rubber rims, so actually canning something in them was pretty much out of the question.  I thought it would be fun to fill them with some kind of scoopable dessert, like a custard or panna cotta.  Then, a bunch of bananas sitting on the counter caught my eye.  “Hmmm,” I thought, “What about banana pudding with vanilla wafers, just like my mother used to make?” That sounded like a plan.  Then, I noticed the jar of peanut butter next to the box of vanilla wafers, and remembered the most amazing peanut butter cream pie that one of our local restaurants is famous for.  I die over that pie!   Honestly, I just couldn’t choose between the two, so I decided to make them both – in the same dessert.  Peanut butter and bananas are already BFFs, so it made perfect sense to pair them up.  It was one of the best decisions I ever made! 

To make the “crust” for my “pies”, I pulverized some vanilla wafers into crumbs and mixed them with a little sugar and melted butter.  Then, I pressed a thin layer of the mixture down into the bottom of each jar.  After that, I added layers of homemade vanilla bean pastry cream, sliced bananas and peanut butter crumblies that I made by blending crunchy peanut butter and powdered sugar together.   After they were assembled, I snapped on the lids and stored them in the fridge until I was ready to serve them.   It was as easy as pie (pun intended)!  And OMG people, they were unbelievably good!   I could have slurped down that whole bowl of pastry cream all by itself.   Mixed with the other ingredients, it was completely off the charts!

I’ve made other desserts like this before.  I love the idea that everybody gets their own individual portion.  It’s a lot easier than slicing up a pie, it’s neater to eat and it’s a lot more fun.  I think I might really be on to something here.  I’m already toying with the idea of pumpkin streusel pie in a jar for Thanksgiving and apple crumb pie in a jar for Christmas.  Think about it.  You could literally do this with any kind of pie ingredients.  The possibilities are endless.  Deliciously and gloriously endless!

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