Plummy Cobbler Pairs Perfectly with Plum Sorbet

When I think of making a fruit dessert, my mind naturally goes to a crisp, with its crumbly, granola-esque topping that's the perfect counterpoint to the sweet, cooked fruit beneath it. But some fruit, and I'm thinking of you, stone fruits, seem to pair much better with a cakey biscuit crust, the better to sop up the juices oozing from the warm fruit.

Damn gorgeous, those Damsons!

Recently, friends were due to come over for dinner, so when I got a couple of pounds of very ripe Damson plums and several pounds of Golden Gage plums from Ayers Creek Farm, it seemed only right to make a cobbler with the Damsons. Which inspired Dave to make a sorbet to accompany it, using the Gages for a little plum-on-plum action.

Plum Cobbler

For the filling:
6 c. plums, peeled and sliced
3/4 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
1/4 c. triple sec or other orange liqueur

For the biscuit crust:
2 c. flour
2 Tbsp. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
6 Tbsp. frozen butter or margarine, cut up
1 c. light cream or milk

Heat oven to 425 degrees.

In large bowl, combine filling ingredients and stir gently. Place in 9” by 12” baking dish.

Mix flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in food processor. Pulse to combine. Add butter or margarine in pieces and pulse until it's the consistency of corn meal. Add cream or milk and process till mixed and soft dough forms. Using spatula, scoop out onto heavily floured surface. Roll or pat out, using flour as necessary to make sure it doesn't stick, until dough is the size of your baking dish. Carefully lift it up and lay over fruit.

Bake 25 to 30 minutes, or until the topping is brown and fruit is bubbling around the edge. Let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.

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Plum Sorbet

3 lbs. plums
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. vodka (helps keep sorbet from getting icy)

Pit and quarter whole plums, leaving skins on, and place in food processor with lime juice and sugar. Process until it's a fine purée. Pour it into a fine mesh sieve (in batches if necessary) over a large mixing bowl and, using a wooden spoon, stir and press the purée through the sieve. (This step is super easy and not time-consuming, so don't let it put you off.) Stir in the vodka, then place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the purée. (This keeps it from oxidizing and turning brown.) Place the bowl in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours to chill completely. Put chilled purée in ice cream maker and process according to directions. Place in container in freezer for 2-3 hours, then serve.

End of a Summer Affair

I think it's finally played itself out and, frankly, it came just in time. Tomato season, delayed as it was, had built up the kind of frustration normally only seen on series TV. Remember Diane and Sam on Cheers? How about Niles and Daphne on Frasier? And, it goes without saying, Next Gen's Picard and Riker. Talk about heat!

But, as with all torrid affairs, the tidal wave of passionate paroxysms passed, leaving piles of fruit still needing attention, if only to rid the kitchen of the fruit flies attracted by the heat of the moment. Even with the freezer filled up with sauce, and some cherry tomatoes dried in the oven, there was a pile of slicers on the counter that were getting dangerously close to composting before my eyes.

That's when I saw a recipe for a tomato cobbler on Mark Bittman's website. (I swear I'm not stalking him. Really.) And, in a sign from the deity if ever there was one, it turned out that the recipe called for exactly the number of tomatoes I had and all of the other ingredients were in the pantry, so no trip to the store was required.

Basically the same concept as a chicken pot pie only using tomatoes, it's a brilliant idea and one that would lend itself to a multitude of fillings and variations on the crust. Which is a nice way to remember a summer romance, don't you think?

Tomato Cobbler
Adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarianby Mark Bittman

For the filling:
3 lbs. tomatoes (8-10 med.), roughly chopped (a combination of colors is gorgeous)
1 c. sundried tomatoes, roughly chopped (optional)
1 Tbsp. cornstarch

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the crust:

1-1 1/2 c. flour, plus more for rolling out dough

1 c. cornmeal

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
4 Tbsp. (1/2 stick) butter or margarine, frozen, cut into large pieces
1 egg, beaten

3/4 c. buttermilk or milk
1 c. sharp cheddar, grated, optional
1 c. corn kernels, optional

Preheat the oven to 375˚.

Put the tomatoes and sundried tomatoes (if using) in a 9" by 12" baking dish and sprinkle with the cornstarch and some salt and pepper. Toss gently to combine.

Put the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter or margarine and pulse a few times until the mixture looks like coarse bread crumbs. Add the egg and buttermilk and pulse a few times more, until the mixture comes together in a ball. If the mixture doesn’t come together, add a spoonful or two of flour. If the mixture is too dry, add a few drops of buttermilk.

Turn out dough onto floured board. Mix in cheese and corn (if using) by hand, flattening and shaping into the approximate size of the baking dish. Place on top of tomatoes. You can also drop spoonfuls of the batter on top and smooth a bit with a knife. Bake 45-50 minutes, until golden on top and bubbly underneath. Cool to just barely warm or room temperature. To serve, scoop servings out with a large spoon.

Market Report: Peachy Keen

There are certain aromas that turn my head when I walk down the aisle of a farmers' market. Basil. Strawberries. And lately, peaches.

There's something about that heavy, sweet smell that almost makes me dizzy, and I invariably pick one up, stick my nose right into its business end and inhale deeply. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

So when the need arose for a seasonally appropriate dessert for a dinner with friends, a vision of peaches simmered under a biscuit crust floated across my inner movie screen. I hied myself to the nearest farmers' market and went from booth to booth looking for ripe candidates. When you're baking with these sweeties, you want the peaches to be firm but have some give to them, though not as much as if you were going to eat them out of hand. And they have to have the aforementioned irresistible perfume or they're not worth buying.

I ended up with six big, juicy Maryhill peaches, enough for a decent cobbler, and within an hour had it in the oven. Talk about instant gratification!

Peach Cobbler

For the filling:
6-8 c. peaches, peeled and sliced
3/4 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
1/4 c. grappa, brandy, Cointreau or Grand Marnier

For the biscuit crust:
2 c. flour
2 Tbsp. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
6 Tbsp. frozen butter or margarine, cut up
1 c. light cream or milk

Heat oven to 425 degrees.

In large bowl, combine filling ingredients and stir gently. Place in 9” by 12” baking dish.

Mix flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in food processor. Pulse to combine. Add butter or margarine in pieces and pulse until it's the consistency of corn meal. Add cream or milk and process till mixed and soft dough forms. Using spatula, scoop out onto heavily floured surface. Roll or pat out, using flour as necessary to make sure it doesn't stick, until dough is the size of your baking dish. Carefully lift it up and lay over fruit.

Bake 25 to 30 minutes, or until the topping is brown and fruit is bubbling around the edge. Let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.

Big Hunks of Animal Flesh

WARNING TO NON-MEAT-EATERS OF ALL STRIPES!

This is going to be a graphic description of the preparation, cooking and consumption of a major body part of a young animal, so avert your eyes.

That said, getta load of this! It's about five pounds of bone-in lamb leg marinated and grilled to medium-rare perfection by my in-house smoke-meister and member of the Grand Order of Charcoal, Dave. This hunk of meaty goodness started out as a rock-hard frozen lump, part of a lamb share program I belong to with three other families. Every six weeks or so we split a quarter of a lamb, which means our freezer fills up with enough for a year's worth of steaks, chops, roasts, shanks and ground bits, all just waiting for the right bolt of inspiration (or desperation) to strike.

Last night we'd invited my brother and his ladylove, along with friends J&K, to come over for an evening in the backyard under the stars. After two days in the fridge thawing and about four hours before dinner, I took the leg out and adapted a simple olive oil, thyme and garlic marinade that Bobby Flay recommended for chops. Dumping all the ingredients and the leg into a giant zip-lock freezer bag, I set it on the counter to commingle, turning it once or twice.

When the fire was ready, I handed it over to Dave, who first seared it over a bed of hot coals then split the coals on either side of the grill and set the leg in the center of the grill for about two hours of indirect cooking. Every twenty minutes or so, he'd add four or five new coals to each side and refill his beer glass (a vital step in any grilling process). As Mr. Leg cooked away, we served our guests mojitos from a pitcher we'd prepared just before they arrived. To make the evening even more special, and to give us something to toast, it was announced that my little bro and Miss w had become engaged on their backpacking trip the night before. Mazeltov!

Then, just as the lambie was pulled off the grill and the gentlemen present gathered over it to discuss the best approach to carving, I whipped out the salad and frikeh (a scorched, green wheat) risotto and we all sat down and toasted the happy couple once again. Topping it all off was a cobbler made with rare and luscious Chester blackberries from Ayers Creek, consumed around a fire in the fire pit with much sighing and, eventually, yawning. It was the perfect end to an evening of celebration with fabulous food, wine and much laughter.

Details: Download recipes for the mojitos, the lamb and the cobbler.