Apple and Quince Crisp with Rum Raisins

I play favorites when it comes to fruits. Perhaps it's because I far prefer vegetables (weird, I know), but my fruit consumption, as a rule, is rather limited.  I tend to stick with what I know and like, peaches and blueberries at the top of my list. So when I received a bag of pineapple quince from Melissa's Produce I was a bit knocked off the track. Firstly, I had to identify them and, secondly, figure out how to use them to their best advantage.

For the uninformed (like me), a quince precedes the apple in culture, dates back to Biblical times, and may have been the actual fruit exchanged between Adam and Eve. A hard, yellowish, fragrant fruit, it comes from a tree that has its roots (if you'll pardon the pun) in the rose family.  Quinces are loaded with pectin and, as such, are exceptionally useful when making jam. The flavor is unique, being a combination of apples and pears, and it is eaten cooked wherein the white flesh becomes a blushing pink.

I searched for recipes and came upon this one. Because I was only serving a small crowd, I cut the recipe in half. Because I am more about the topping than the interior when it comes to fruit desserts, I did not cut the crisp part in half. (Grin) I also substituted brown sugar for white in the topping and added a pinch of cardamom.

A wonderful fall dessert, I like it served warm with a scoop of ice cream.  This dish is a bit labor intensive, but various components can be made a day ahead.  And, as it seems to improve with age, make it a day prior to serving and warm it in a low oven before doing so. 

Apple and Quince Crisp with Rum Raisins

Bon Appétit, November 2007

Rum Raisins:

1 1/2 cups raisins

1 cup dark rum

Crisp Topping:

3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon salt

Filling:

4 cups water

3 1/2 cups sugar, divided

2 pounds quinces (about 5 medium), peeled, quartered, cored

4 large Gala apples, peeled, cut into 1-inch pieces

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream

For rum raisins:
Simmer raisins and rum in small saucepan 3 minutes. Remove from heat. Ignite with match; let flames burn out, about 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer 2 tablespoons liquid to small bowl for crisp topping.

For crisp topping:
Melt butter in small saucepan over medium-low heat. Simmer until butter is golden brown, about 6 minutes. Cool.

Mix flour, sugar, nutmeg, and salt in medium bowl. Add browned butter and 2 tablespoons reserved liquid from rum raisins; stir until moist clumps form. DO AHEAD: Raisins and topping can be made 1 day ahead. Cover each; chill.

For filling:
Combine 4 cups water and 3 cups sugar in large saucepan. Stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves. Add quinces; simmer until tender, 15 minutes. Remove from syrup; cool. Reserve syrup for another use. Cut quinces into 1-inch cubes. Transfer to large bowl. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Butter a 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Add apples, lemon juice, flour, salt, remaining 1/2 cup sugar, and rum raisin mixture to bowl with quinces; toss to blend. Transfer to baking dish. Crumble topping over.

Bake apple and quince crisp until golden and bubbling, about 55 minutes. Cool at least 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature with softly whipped cream or ice cream. 

This post is linked to:

Full Plate Thursday

Foodie Friday

Calamondin Marmalade

There were some sad moments at the breakfast table this morning when the realization struck that we had used the last jar of my homemade marmalade. The very last spoonful of the near two dozen jars of both orange and Meyer Lemon vanilla bean were gone!  Folks, there is nothing sadder than an empty biscuit first thing in the morning.

As I dropped the spoon into the empty jar, I happened to glance into the corner of the room where the fruit-laden Calamondin orange tree stood. After a summer outside where it flourished and scented the deck with a heady aroma, it had to be brought into the house until it could return to its place next spring. How I muscled a twenty pound clay pot filled with forty pounds of soil, and a TREE into the house and avoided a hernia is another story. But there it was, humbly waiting in the corner of the room.

At that moment I remembered a recipe that my friend, Harol, (whose husband has a literal orchard of citrus on their patio) had sent me years ago along with a box of Calamondin oranges. The recipe instructed how to make a marmalade that tasted as good as homemade using Calamondins and a “no cook” method. I looked up that recipe, which is really nothing more than a sentence or two, and set to work.

The kitchen smelled marvelous, so fresh and sweet and citrus-y, that I had to stop what I was doing on two occasions and just breathe in the goodness. The end result was as good as I had remembered.

If you are fortunate enough to grow your own little oranges, or know someone who does, here is a recipe for fresh tasting marmalade in a matter of minutes. It's worth making for the olfactory experience alone.

Calamondin Marmalade

6-7 Calamondin oranges

1 12-oz. Jar Smucker’s orange marmalade

Wash the oranges thoroughly, scrubbing with a clean vegetable brush. Pat dry with paper towels.

Quarter the oranges and remove the seeds.

Place the seedless, quartered oranges into a mini food processor (or a regular sized one if that's all you have), and pulse until the oranges are thoroughly chopped, but not puréed.

Empty the jar of Smucker's marmalade into a medium bowl and fold in the chopped Calamondins. Turn mixture back into the original jar and put the rest in a bowl and set it on the table to enjoy.

Serve with hot biscuits.

I suspect that you could do this same thing with kumquats, using probably 8-10. Give it a try; I'm sure you can't go wrong.

Keep in mind that marmalade is good for more than slathering on a biscuit. You can also use it to top waffles, sandwich between a stack of pancakes, fold into a premade crepe, or dollop onto a bowl of oatmeal. It makes an excellent sandwich spread (on turkey, chicken, or ham) when combined with either a bit of Dijon mustard or a healthy amount of cranberry sauce. It is incredibly versatile. 

This post is linked to:

Amaze Me Monday

Inspire Me Tuesday

Totally Tasty Tuesdays

Try a New Recipe Tuesday

Tasty Tuesdays

Wow Us Wednesday
Work It Wednesday

What’s It Wednesday

Carbonnade de Boeuf

There is such a glut of cookbooks on the market that it takes something special or unique to turn my head. It also helps to have sensuous photos and a decent recipe or two. Stanley Tucci's THE TUCCI TABLE has all of this in spades. A beautiful, chatty, unintimidating volume, it features recipes from a trio of cuisines: Italian, American, and, with a nod to his wife, British.

Each recipe has a chatty story, helpful hint, or bit of conversation to accompany it and most have mouthwatering photos. The photography goes well beyond a beautifully displayed picture of the end product to pictures depicting step-by-step tutorials of how to make the dish (very helpful in the case of the sausage rolls), as well as photos of the actor himself, hard at work in the kitchen, accompanied by his lovely wife and children.

For the most part the recipes are clear and concise. A tiny bit of guesswork (or experience) is needed in some cases where it would have been helpful to know how high to have the heat beneath the onions when sautéing, but this is a minor point.

The recipes are laid out as a meal would be served, beginning with soup and salad (I highly recommend the easy, but tasty, Tuscan Tomato Soup), followed by small plates (appetizers), main dishes, pasta, and dessert. Because the Tuccis don't serve many sweets in their young household, desserts in the book are given short shrift, but as there are plenty of “dessert only” cookbooks to turn to if need be, I'm fine with that.

This book has good, solid, doable, delicious recipes presented in an eye-catching way. Every one I tried turned out beautifully and received raves. The book is worth the price alone for the heavenly Carbonnade de Boeuf, the best use of stew meat known to man and easily company worthy.

Other nice aspects of the book include a list of necessary kitchen tools for those beginning to set up a cook's kitchen, as well as a section on making various stocks and sauces. Thank you Stanley and Felicity, well done!

Carbonnade de Boeuf

2-3 tablespoons Flour

Kosher Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper

3 pounds Stewing Beef (cut into 2-inch cubes)

4-6 tablespoons Olive Oil or Goose or Pork Fat

1 1/2 pound Onions (2-3 large, thinly sliced)

4 Cloves Garlic (crushed)

1 1/4 pint Dark Beer (preferably Belgian)

2 cups Good Beef Stock

3 tablespoons Raw Cane Sugar (I used 1 T. granulated sugar)

Dash White Wine Vinegar

3 Bay Leaves

Few good sprigs Fresh Thyme

Small bunch Fresh Flat-Leaf Parsley

1 tablespoon Dijon Mustard

Preheat the oven to 325°F.

Season the flour with salt and pepper and dredge the meat in the seasoned flour.

In a heavy-bottomed casserole or Dutch oven, heat the olive oil or goose or pork fat.  Add the meat in batches, browning it on all sides, adding in some more oil as you go, if necessary.

Remove the beef from the pan and set aside.  Add the onions to the pan and cook until soft. Add the garlic and cook for a minute or two more.  Add half the beer, stirring to deglaze the pan and scraping all the bits off the bottom.  Return the meat to the pan and add the remaining beer, stock, sugar, vinegar, herbs - which you can tie together into a bouquet garni if you like - and the mustard.  Stir well and bring to a boil.  Cook for a good 5 minutes, then cover and transfer to the oven to bake for about 3 hours, until the meat is tender and the sauce has reduced.  Taste the sauce, adjust the seasoning, if necessary, and serve. 

This post is linked to:

Metamorphosis Monday 

Amaze Me Monday

Inspire Me Tuesday

The Scoop

What To Do Weekend 
Weekend re-Treat

Cheesy Leek and Broccoli Soup

Once the fall arrives, and I get into “soup mode,” there is just no stopping me. I will look for any excuse and any ingredient to make soup. This recipe came as the result of my having a lone leek in the fridge, coupled with my going absolutely crazy at a frozen vegetable sale at the local market. Those 10/$10 deals, particularly where name brand, one-pound packages of frozen vegetables are concerned, are truly my Achilles heel. I think we're pretty much set for the winter now.

Cheesy Leek and Broccoli Soup

1 large leek

5 Tablespoons butter

1/4 cup flour

1 cup whole milk

1 cup heavy cream

2 cups chicken stock, plus more for thinning, if necessary

1 16-ounce package frozen, chopped broccoli

6 baby or 2 large carrots

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1 8-ounce package Sharp Cheddar Cheese

Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Cut carrots into julienne strips; set aside.

Cut dark green end off of leek. Remove the tough outer leaves and split leek down the middle (but not completely through), spread apart and rinse thoroughly to remove all grit. Thinly slice leek into rounds.

In a 10" sauté pan, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium-low heat. Add leek and cook until soft and opaque, but not brown; set aside.

Meanwhile, melt remaining 3 tablespoons of butter over medium heat in a 2-quart pot. Whisk in flour and cook for 3-5 minutes. Slowly add milk and cream, whisking constantly.

Whisk in chicken stock. Bring mixture to a simmer over medium heat. Once simmering, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 20 minutes.

Add reserved carrots and leeks, and add broccoli. Cook for 25 more minutes over medium-low heat.

Add cheese, nutmeg, and salt and pepper to taste. Thin with additional stock, if too thick.  Heat through and serve.

This post is linked to:

Thursday Favorite Things

Full Plate Thursday

Create It Thursday 

 Show and Tell Friday 

Friday Unfolded

Not Your Momma’s M&M Cookies

This is a recipe born of necessity. Namely, my overwhelming need to rid the house of all of the leftover Halloween Candy that Mr. O-P was possessed to buy despite our history of few, if any, Trick-or-Treaters. Sigh. I have brownie ideas marinating in my head at the moment with an eye toward eliminating the mini Snickers, Milky Way, and Three Musketeers bars, but today I tackled the M&Ms.

Because I like M&Ms (and, really, who doesn't?), I also like M&M cookies. Largely, though, I've found M&M cookies to be simply clones of chocolate chip cookies with the candy in place of the chocolate chips. I wanted to give mine a little extra crunch and flavor, so added brickle bits to the recipe. Oh, yeah, these are good.

This recipe goes together easily, and has a great crumb, thanks to the combined use of both butter and margarine. Do not wander from this combination. You need both to get the perfect texture and the right cookie “chubby-ness.”

These freeze beautifully if you'd like to make them now and save them for the holidays.

Not Your Momma’s M&M Cookies

1/2 cup margarine (1 stick)

1/2 cup butter (1 stick)

3/4 cup brown sugar, packed

3/4 cup granulated sugar

2 large eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

2 1/2 cups flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2  tsp. salt

1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

1/2 cup milk chocolate chips

2/3 cup Bits ‘O Brickle chips

1 cup M&M candies

Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Cream the margarine and butter with the brown and granulated sugars. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until fluffy.

In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking soda and salt, and add to the creamed mixture. Stir in the semi-sweet, milk chocolate, and brickle chips. Fold in the M&Ms.

Drop rounded spoonfuls of batter 2 inches apart onto a baking sheet. Bake the cookies until they're pale golden brown, 12 to 14 minutes.

Makes 4 dozen cookies.

This post is linked to:

Tasty Tuesday

Totally Tasty Tuesdays

Try a New Recipe Tuesday

Tasty Tuesdays

Wow Us Wednesday
Work It Wednesday

What’s It Wednesday

Full Plate Thursday

Foodie Friday