Company's Coming: Gluten-Free Fruit Crisp, Anyone?

We've all been there. A good friend or beloved relative is coming to dinner, someone who has a dietary restriction, whether chosen—vegan, wheat-free, vegetarian, religious—or unchosen, like an allergy to nuts, wheat, garlic, sugar, etc., or an intolerance to certain foods. And I don't know about you, but my initail reaction is to freeze up when it comes to planning the menu.

This happened recently when a couple we've known for years were coming over, one of whom has ascertained over the years that her system doesn't respond well to gluten. It's not celiac disease, just as my husband's intolerance to lactose isn't life-threatening; it's just something that makes for a "rumbly tumbly," as Winnie-the-Pooh would say.

Gluten-free crumble topping? Done!

The main dish was easy—they're meat-eaters, and I'd just bought a grass-fed sirloin tip roast from Carman Ranch that I was planning to slice open, slather with a sorrel-shallot-rosemary-fennel pollen mixture, then roll up and rotisserie. An Astiana tomato risotto using tomato stock from the 120 pounds I'd roasted this summer, and a castelfranco chicory salad with Caesar dressing were easy decisions.

But then…dessert.

Ready to pop in the oven!

Virtually every dessert we normally make has some flour in it. Tarts, pies, crisps, cakes, all flour-dependent. Sorbet was an option, made with the scads of berries I had squirreled away in the freezer, but we were short on time for it to freeze properly. A trip to the store to buy a commercial sorbet was my back-pocket solution, but could I come up with a gluten-free dessert that wouldn't require (another) trip to the store? (The short on time element, remember?)

A search for "gluten free crumble" led to a recipe on the Kitchn website for a gluten-free topping that merely required grinding up oats in the food processor until they were the consistency of flour. Score! Their recipe (in my humble opinion) resulted in a clumpy product that didn't appeal to me, so I ground the oats in the processor and used the "flour" as a substitute for the flour called for in my family's crisp recipe, along with the usual suspects: brown sugar, oats, cinnamon and butter or margarine.

Delicious! A crisp for the ages.

The result was a virtual identical twin of the original recipe, especially glorious because I used a combination of frozen marionberries from our neighbor's garden and equally incredible Chester blackberries from Ayers Creek Farm—and the splash of Cointreau in the berries didn't hurt, either. And for the full-gluten experience, you can feel free to substitute one cup of all-purpose flour for the oat flour below.

Gluten-Free Berry Crisp

For the topping:
1 c. oat flour (see instructions, below)
3/4 c. uncooked rolled oats
1 c. brown sugar
1 Tbsp. cinnamon
1/2 c. melted butter or margarine

For the filling:
4-6 c. berries
1 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
1/4 c. Cointreau, triple sec or eau de vie

Make the oat flour by processing 1 1/4 cups of uncooked rolled oats in the food processor until it has a flour-like consistency. Mix the oat flour together with the other dry ingredients in a medium-sized bowl. Pour in melted butter or margarine and stir with fork to combine. Set aside.

Place berries in large mixing bowl. Add sugar, liqueur and cornstarch and mix thoroughly. Put in 9” by 12” baking pan. Scatter topping mixture over the top and bake in 350 degree oven for 50 min. to 1 hr. until bubbling.

Summer Essentials: Berries Call for Shortcakes!

It's high season in Oregon for berries, folks, and while I don't have an argument with pies, crisps or cobblers—drop one off any time, really!—in my family's opinion there's no higher or better use for fresh berries than finishing a summer's feast with fresh berry shortcakes.

Simple, lightly sweet shortcakes.

The buttery, lightly sweet shortcakes, which can also do double duty as breakfast scones, come together quickly in a food processor. Shower them with a scattering of lightly sugared berries and a plop of whipped cream (or ice cream, depending on your druthers) to make these ephemeral seasonal delights shine.

Berry season calls for shortcakes.

Whether you've got raspberries, loganberries, blackberries, tayberries, strawberries, boysenberries, blueberries or—I know I'm forgetting some—a mixture of two or more, save a couple of pints out of your next flat of berries to make this startlingly simple and stunningly delicious classic.

Berry Shortcake

For the shortcakes:

2 1/2 c. flour

1 Tbsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

8 Tbsp. (1 stick) frozen butter or margarine, cut up

1/4 c. sugar

2/3 c. whole milk

For the berries:

2 pints berries

1/4 c. sugar (adjust according to sweetness of berries)

Whipped cream or ice cream

Preheat oven to 425°.

Put flour, balking powder, salt and sugar in bowl of food processor. Pulse four or five times to combine. Add butter or margarine and pulse several times until the mixture resembles cornmeal. With processor running, add milk in a stream. Keep processor running until the dough comes together in a soft mass.

Remove dough from processor, place on floured surface and form into a soft ball shape. Divide dough ball in half and gently pat out each half with your hands into six-inch disks (they will be about 1/2"-5/8" thick). With a butcher knife, slice each disk into six triangle-shaped wedges. On a sheet pan lined with parchment paper, place wedges slightly apart for crispier sides, touching for soft sides. I usually separate them by 1/8" and they puff up into wedges that break apart easily. Bake about 12 minutes or until tops are medium brown. Remove to racks to cool.

While the shortcakes are baking, put the berries into a large mixing bowl and add sugar. Using a spatula, gently fold the sugar into the berries. Allow to macerate for at least an hour (you can also place berries in the refrigerator until assembling). Using one wedge per serving, slice wedges in half lengthwise and place on individual serving plates or bowls. Scatter berries over the top and drizzle with juice that collects in the bottom of bowl. Top with whipped cream or ice cream as desired.

Farm Bulletin: Anatomy of a Berry

The ripening of the small fruit is gathering steam. The fruits we typically call "berries" are, in the botanist's lexicon, aggregate fruits composed of numerous small, single seeded individual fruits called drupelets. In you look closely, you will notice they are essentially tiny cherry-like fruits borne on a receptacle and fused on their flanks.

In the raspberries, the drupelets fall free of the receptacle, leaving a hollow fruit. In the loganberries and most of members of the group, the receptacle remains attached to the drupelets, and "the berry" detaches at the stem. Each drupelet retains a bit of the stigma that was pollinated to produce it. Damp, cool days during pollination result in fewer bee visits to each flower, and smaller fruit because fewer stigmas are pollinated.

Members of the genus Ribes, the gooseberries and currants, produce true berries. The general definition of a berry is "a pulpy fruit enclosing several seeds." Tomatoes and grapes are also berries in the botanist's world. The Ribes are very good for preserves and jellies. Red currants are often combined with raspberries to make jam because they have a high pectin content. Red and black currants produce good juice. For the best quality and yield, use a steam juicer such as the Mehu Liisa, developed by Finns desperate to preserve the essence of summer. Generally neglected in North America, the berries of Ribes are very nutritious and deserve a more prominent place on the table.

The individual currants (right) are on a raceme called a "strig" in the trade. The strig should be removed before the fruit is used. The stem lends an off-flavor and bitterness if it is cooked with the fruit. The classic kitchen trick is to use a fork to comb the individual berries off the strig. Works, but it gets tedious. A more efficient method is to put the fruit in the freezer, and when the berries are frozen, the stems can be rubbed off without making a mess of the berries. Insulated gloves are useful if you have a lot of currants to clean.

As an aside, the currants of the genus Ribes bear no relationship to the black, wrinkled raisins called currants. Those small, dried grapes originated around the ancient Greek city of Corinth, and the word "currant" as applied to them is merely a British corruption of that ancient city's name. The grape used to produce those raisin is also sold as the "Champagne Grape," though there is absolutely no connection between those grapes and the sparkling wine than lends its name to them.

Farm Bulletin: Dancing with Mother Nature

Contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm has been working his land for many years and has experienced most of the seasonal weather patterns endemic to his corner of the Wapato Valley near Gaston. This year's cool, wet spring and early summer has been at turns puzzling and frustrating.

Farming is a waltz with nature, and although we try to work with her, we are reminded, more often than not, that she is a powerful lead. Among the farmers at the market, the discussion is whether this second late year in a row is the beginning of a trend, a cyclical moment or a stochastic event and as significant as drawing two jacks from a deck of cards.

Regardless, the choreography of planting, cultivation and harvest are planned by the farmer to avoid missteps, a collision between unequal partners. This next week will test our mettle and humor as frikeh production (left) must happen at the same time we are planting the winter crops and summer fruit is starting. We are also racing to clean up the berry fields before the grass, fireweed and thistles set seed. The seeds stick to berries and make them more difficult to pick. Somewhere in this mix, the sowing of summer greens will be done. One, two, three, one, two, three…

On Berries

Blessedly, the number of people who tell us the old family secret of spreading berries carefully on a cookie sheet so they don't touch each other, and then putting them in the freezer without jiggling the masterpiece of spacing, are now far and few between.

The best way to freeze our berries is to leave them in the container or flat, and place the whole thing in the freezer without touching the fruit. (The berries we sell are picked especially for you at the Hillsdale market, not hauled from one market to the next, and they are picked over to remove the berries that start to rot. We sell at one market only, so every pint of fruit is less than 24 hours from the field to your good custody.) A day or two after being placed in the freezer, when berries are fully frozen and you feel like a spot of work (but not too much), take out the hallocks and give them a gentle squeeze while pouring the berries into an airtight container. They will be perfectly frozen as individual berries.

During the ripening season for each fruit, berry quality changes. The early fruit have a higher natural pectin level and acidity, making better preserves than later fruit. We make our preserves from the first run, and they do not need added pectin. As the season progresses, the pectins and acidity drops, and for cooking the berries have less oomph. However, for fresh eating, the later berries will be sweeter and just as flavorful in the mouth. In preparing preserves, it helps to macerate the fruit in the sugar overnight and heat it up the next day.