burrata with crushed cherries and pistachios

Have you tried the classic French dessert called clafoutis? (It’s pronounced klah-foo-tee.) If not, please let me introduce you to this delightful and simple treat. Clafoutis is a delicious cross between a cake and a custard with a crackled top and luscious, fruit-studded interior. It’s sweet but not too sweet, making it the perfect ending to a lovely summer supper.
Clafoutis is typically baked with cherries, but you’ll see that I used berries here, and you’ll find more options below. My three-year-0ld loves clafoutis. She’s been asking for more “cherry cake” since last summer, and it’s about time we made more.
I made clafoutis over and over again last summer until I got the proportions of this recipe just right (nine times, to be exact). Each attempt was tasty, but the recipe I’m sharing today is perfection. I had to find the right balance between the amounts of flour, sugar, liquid and eggs to yield a silky interior that’s full of flavor but not too eggy or wet. Here it is!
Continue to the recipe...The post Clafoutis appeared first on Cookie and Kate.
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It’s summer! Whether you’re in or outdoors, hopefully for all of you there are beautiful summer fruits and berries to be had, and I hope that you’re able to get your hands on as many of them as you can. I am loading (actually, overloading…) myself up at the market. While a good portion on the fresh fruit gets eaten just as-is, some of it goes into the following dessert recipes that I continue to make year after year. Others go into jam, which is a great way to preserve all those summer fruits and berries, and make them last through fall and winter.
Cherry season is behind most of us (sniff…sniff…), but if they are still lingering where you live, you can type “cherry” or “cherries” into the search engine at the top right corner of the page to find cherry recipes. (And we don’t get a bountiful array of fresh raspberries and blackberries here, so I don’t have many recipes that use them on the blog.) But for nectarines, strawberries, peaches, plums and other summer fruits, here are some of my favorite recipes on the blog…
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Summer Fruit Galette with Frangipane
I’ve seen so many galettes this year on social media, that it’s tempting to already call galettes The Dessert of the Year. (Okay, there were plenty of Banana Breads as well. And it’s hard to knock Banana Bread, even my low(er) fat one.) But for the bang-for-the-buck, it’s hard to beat the silly-easy galette, made with a fail-safe dough that gets rolled out, topped with fresh fruit, and baked until ripe ‘n ready. Mine has a layer of frangipane under the fruit to keep some of those juices away from the bottom crust, so it stays crisp. It also tastes good, too! Apricots work especially well in this one but you can use nectarines, plums, peaches, or…
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…rhubarb and strawberries! Yes, the classic combo works well as a galette, too. But don’t let tradition stand in the way of deliciousness and you can swap out cherries, raspberries, or blackberries for the strawberries.
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When I was a cook in upstate New York back in the 1980s (!) I remember someone brought us a (as in 1) basket of fresh apricots from California, which I’d never seen before. I made a simple tart with them and only eight lucky customers could get a taste of it. (Or maybe I cut it into ten?) Fast-forward to today, summer brings a cavalcade of fresh apricots to the markets and toward the end of the season, I don’t have time to shed any tears as I’m piling apricot jam into pots, to save them for the coming months. It’s Romain’s favorite jam so I make sure there’s enough to keep him happy, because I’ve learned what happens when I don’t : 0
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Summer Fruit Tart (with frangipane)
Another summer fruit favorite, yes, with more almond cream than the galettes above, this is that classic French tart that you’ll find in many pastry shops all year round, using everything from pears to pineapple. Don’t love almonds, or want to take it in a different direction? Replace the almonds with hazelnuts for a special treat.
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While apricots are Romain’s favorite for jam, I am 100% on team plum. The luscious tang of juicy plum, and the high natural pectin content, makes this one of the easiest jams to make. And it’s not too difficult to eat, either.
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While I miss the purple Santa Rose and Elephant Heart plums we got in California, France has its own special selection of delectable plums, including Mirabelles, quetsches, and even wild plums. While the wild plum trees that we used to pick/glean from have been pruned by the absentee owners (phooey!) we found another source last summer. And the only thing better than free plums is free wild plums, which come in an array of snazzy colors and are extra tangy, perfect for those of us that like some pucker in our pastries.
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The cousin of clafoutis, this flaugnarde features a jumble of plums baked in a silky custard. They’re so pretty I almost hate to bake them. But then, when I pull it out of the oven, I’m happy to have a beautiful baked gratin dish of custardy plums for dessert on a warm summer night.
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Two tart fruits come together, baked under a buttery blanket of streusel. If these two bedfellows are available at the same time where you live, you’re doubly lucky!
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The elusive Mirabelle plums have a cult-like following and while some mistakenly think they aren’t available in the U.S. (they were briefly banned a few years ago), if you’re lucky, you can indeed find them. They’re intensely flavored and sweeter than other plums, and make a wonderful confiture with jewel-like fruits suspended in a shimmering jelly, which are lovely heaped on toast in the morning. (If you want to get a taste of Mirabelles but can’t find them, Bonne Maman makes a golden plum Mirabelle jam that’s exported from France.)
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While I wasn’t a fan of Angel Food Cake growing up, which my mother usually made to accompany strawberries, I became a convert as a grown-up. Perhaps it had to do with writing an ice cream book and having an overload of egg whites to use up. (And Angel Food Cake is an express route to doing that.) Nevertheless it’s a treat along with summer fruits and berries, either baked as a compote or fresh, tossed in a little sugar and perhaps a dash of crème de cassis. The spongy cake is an ideal way to make sure you get every drop of the fruit syrup that’s surrounding the airy slab. It’s French cousin, Gâteau de savoie, is equally enjoyable, and doesn’t require an Angel Food Cake pan.
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Roasted Strawberry Miso Ice Cream
Roasting strawberries is lesser-known way of coaxing out their flavor, but works well when making ice cream as it concentrates them and reduced the water, so the ice cream stays creamier. Adding a touch of salty miso provides a curious contrast to the berries juicy sweetness, and a little umami to boot.
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Once you make the (very) easy base for this Strawberry Spritz, you can use it to make Strawberry Margaritas, too. (And if you’ve got a hankering for a classic Spritz, I’ve got you covered there, too.) But this Spritz is a great, light apéritif to enjoy all season long. I was drinking lots of these a few weeks ago when strawberries were at their peak. If they available where you live, go infuse some in vermouth blanc for a great spring/summer sipper.
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Spiced Plum Cake with Toffee Glaze
Toffee glaze is one of those things you could put on an old sneaker, and it would make those dilapidated Reeboks taste great. Even better (and more recommended) is this spiced plum cake, which isn’t too rich or too sweet. Crunchy toasted almonds on top are a nice contrast to the buttery glaze.
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Peach Shortcakes with Butterscotch Sauce
Speaking of buttery sauces, butterscotch with peaches is a natural. Grammar-correct keeps asking me: A natural what? But I think you can figure that out. If not, give them a try together and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
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If you’re fortunate enough to have a peach tree or can get some of the leaves, they lend a delicate almond-like flavor to this intriguing apéritif wine. I try to make a few bottles every year and serve chilled glasses as the season’s change, reminding me of summer, and reminding me that the light almond flavor of peach leaves in wine is something to put on my calendar for the following year.
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Peaches and bourbon are natural partners, and they don’t mind sharing space in a tumbler with the classic French apéritif, Bonal. But not to worry if you don’t have it; I offer some substitutes that you might already have on your liquor shelf. This cocktail isn’t just pretty, it’s also a pretty effective way to beat the heat. (Yup, nectarines or plums could replace the peaches, if you’re so inclined.)
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A vintage metal popsicle mold that was a find at a flea market prompted these summer ‘sicles. You can load ’em up with berries and since I used white nectarines, the popsicles were extra-pretty in pink. But anyone would say “yes” to them in yellow, if you go with standard nectarines.
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Mixed berry anything automatically makes something my favorite dessert. I love, love, love the juicy tumble of strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, red currants, or whatever else you’ve got. Bring the berries on!
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While I am nostalgic for the overload of blueberries that I grew up with New England, when I do find myrtilles, I try to keep them as close to their pure state as possible. Topped with crumbly drop biscuits, all that’s needed is a scoop of vanilla ice cream to complete the picture, but white chocolate-fresh ginger ice cream would also be welcome…and appreciated, on this cobbler.
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Mango Frozen Yogurt with Blueberry Compote
While everyone’s mind is on peaches and nectarines, don’t forget mangoes, their tropical counterpart, which go just as well with summer berries. Blueberries particularly come to mind but raspberries and strawberries could fill in for them.
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With pretty swirls of crispy meringue, this tangy frozen yogurt can be part of a composed dessert, which I like to serve in the summer, being generous with the fresh fruit…and filling in the blanks with frozen yogurt and meringues.
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Blueberry Buckle with Lemon Syrup
I don’t know if blueberries get any better than in this buckle, which do indeed “buckle” under the weight of almost too many blueberries…if that’s even possible. A dousing with tart lemon syrup keeps things moist and tangy. You can skip the cream with this one. It’s great on its own.
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I think I have something wrong with me. I seem to be afflicted with a particular malady that forces me to buy way too many summer fruits when they’re in season. It gets particularly dire when faced with apricots and cherries, two fruits whose seasons are much shorter than the others. The first fresh apricots I saw were back in upstate New York, around the 1980s, and I’d never seen them before. Someone brought us a basket of the tender, squishy little orange fruits to the restaurant that I worked at, and I remember being completely taken off guard, as the only apricots I’d ever seen were the dried ones. And while I loved the crinkly dried specimens, those fresh beauties with a red blush were a whole other taste entirely.
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Then, when I moved to California, I discovered how abundant fresh apricots are (or can be), as they are in France. But no matter how abundant – or not – cherries are when the season is in full swing, I always consider them extra-special fruits and give a prominent place in my kitchen. At the beginning of the season, they’re incredibly expensive and rarely good. Then, as the season moves along, they start showing up in larger mounds at the market, and the prices get gentler, coaxing me to buy as many as I can heft.
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This week, I was helpless when faced with an overload of summer fruits at the market. And in addition to a giant bag of apricots, two bulging sacks of tomatoes, and eight white nectarines, I bought 2 kilos (about 4 1/2 pounds, give or take a few cherries) of fresh cherries — and from the looks of the other shoppers, it was more than any normal person would buy. (Although I think I made the vendor’s day.) But I couldn’t help it. They were Burlat cherries and I’d bought a small bag from the same vendor last week at the market, and there he was again, tempting me with more. Once I got home, I got my cherry pitter out, and pitted half of them, saving the others to eat fresh. (Except I almost polished off the fresh ones I was reserving as I was pitting these!)
Fresh cherries are, of course, great fresh. But cooking them can deepen, and even improve their flavor, especially nice if you get home and find yourself with a bag of rather wan ones. Or ones that you might snag at the end of the market, when the vendors are trying to get rid of any extras that might not keep until the next market day.
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In addition to being the answer to what the heck you (or I) are going to do with all those cherries, this recipe also deftly answers that age-old question: Can I freeze that? And the answer is a big, resounding, “Heck, yeah!” Once the compote has cooled, it freezes perfectly in zip-top freezer bags or other containers that you prefer to use, and will last up to a year. (You can also freeze pitted fresh cherries on their own as well.)
And let me tell you, it’s great to stumble upon a bag of cherry compote that may have moved to an unfavorable position in your freezer as summer shifted into fall – or winter, when they can become quickly forgotten. Once defrosted, and perhaps rewarmed, they’re terrific served with vanilla ice cream, plain yogurt, or alongside a cake, such as almond cake, gâteau de savoie, or angel food cake.
I like to boost their flavor with a handful of dried sour cherries, added midway during cooking, so they plump up and absorb the cherry juices, which add another dimension of cherry flavor. A shot of kirsch also dials up the flavor nicely.
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Have you ever gone away for a few weeks and found out that you’d left the freezer door ajar? Well, I did. And let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.
Before traveling, since I’m anti-gaspillage (against food waste), I jammed whatever I could into my already-stuffed freezer, including a half-eaten tomato tart, which I thought would be nice to have ready-and-waiting upon my arrival home, partially-used blocks of butter, and the miscellaneous leftover ends of bread that one collects when one constantly buys too much bread. When I returned, I realized that one of those bread pieces had been caught in the door and kept it from sealing closed.
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Oddly, the fridge doors have an alarm, which beeps if they’re not completely shut, but the freezer door doesn’t. Coming home to an array of items that were half-frozen, half-defrosted (with gloopy liquid oozing out of them), possibly defrosted and then refrozen, and a few that were unidentifiable, was a bummer.
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Some things I knew had to go – like sausages, stock, and a rather moldy half-eaten tomato tart, that I was sure could be reheated when I returned from my travels. (I won’t share a picture of that, but it looked like it needed a good shave.) But I also had several precious bags of cranberries that I’d stashed away for Thanksgiving and while they weren’t completely defrosted, I didn’t want to (or know if I could) refreeze them, so I decided to make chutney…and a whole lotta it.
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Fortunately, all my candied and dried fruits were in fine condition and since I was cleaning my freezer, I also did a little purge of my drawers of things that weren’t sparking joy in my kitchen, and cooked them all up with some spices, some honey, orange juice, and vinegar, to make this tangy-tangy condiment.
(Just a note that dried fruits always spark joy in me. But a drawerful of little crinkled up cellophane bags with thirteen raisins or two dried apricots in them, don’t.)
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To share my joy with you, I whittled my catastrophe-size recipe down to a reasonable recipe, but you’re welcome to double, triple, or quadruple it. Although it’ll keep for a few weeks in the refrigerator, I had so much that tightly sealed the overload into freezer bags and placed them back in the congélateur. However next time I’m headed out of town, I’m going to make sure my freezer is tightly sealed, because I’d be a bummer to lose those.