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Franco-American Apple Pie

November 6, 2015 By Lauren

applepieI’ve been neglecting you, friends.  These past two months have been incredibly busy, and hard.  It’s been better, though, since I ended my contract at the cafe two weeks ago.  Only two months in and I was feeling on the verge of what a francophone would call burn-out, what a nutritionist would call adrenal fatigue, and what I would call desperate times.  I was coming home every afternoon, too exhausted to read, or write, or make a soup, or call my best friend, or water my plants, or take a walk under moonlight, or a hike in the sunshine, or meet a friend for a mug of something warm, or really hear how Lulu’s day was–too exhausted for care, both for self and for others and that is a bleak place to be, indeed.

It wasn’t only the hours that were draining.  And, without getting into too much detail, I was beginning to feel like I wasn’t doing the work that everything in me–heart, spirit, hands, mind–so badly wants to do.  Work that contributes something positive to my community, something honest, creative, uplifting, nourishing, healing.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  So I left.  It wasn’t an easy decision in some ways, and in other ways it was the easiest one.

Now, I’ve been focusing my energies on my nutrition practice, a few other projects that I’ll share w/ y’all soon, and on all that care I’ve been missing out on these past months.

Like baking this apple pie.  This recipe comes from another blog–Lucy’s Kitchen Notebook–the first blog I ever followed. This was back in 2009, October, when I was subletting a tiny room in a light-filled apartment on 4th Street in the East Village, mending a broken heart from the passing of my grandma Stella.  The apartment had a spacious (by NYC standards) kitchen and was in close proximity to a farmer’s market and one of the ways I dealt w/ my loss was through making some of Lucy’s recipes, feeling transported to a small village in France (though Lucy’s based in Lyon), a plot of land where there are green walnuts to harvest for nocino and an apple tree that yields and yields.

I’m not sure if Lucy is still blogging, but I return to her archives from time-to-time and I always leave her page feeling galvanized.  These past two months, I haven’t spent much time in my kitchen and it’s been nourishing, in all the ways, to rekindle my relationship to home-cooking.

I’ve made this pie dozens of times since that Fall.  The crust has an almost sablé-like texture and the addition of apple-sauce is down-right genius, making this comfort food feel even more like a big ol’ cozy sweater.  It’s incredibly versatile — I’ve used spelt flour and, once, a mix of spelt and rye flours instead of the whole-wheat flour, yogurt instead of the petit suisse or cream cheese, olive oil instead of walnut oil, cardamom instead of cinnamon…in short, unlike other baked things, it seems pretty darn hard to mess this one up.

The one adjustment I’ve made that I’ve really come to love is to chop the apples into even, on the smaller-side cubes.  Chopped this way, they bake evenly and take on a texture that approximates pillows, marshmallows, clouds.  If you’re particular about one part of the recipe, make it this.

The other adjustment I’ve made is that I use whole cane sugar (like rapadura, sucanet, or jaggery) instead of processed ones.  If you’ve never baked w/ whole cane sugar, now’s the time to start!  It’s minimally processed (sun-dried instead of exposed to heat, high-pressure and bleach like white or brown sugars) and its taste has a depth & richness that other sugars lack.

I’ve never been in touch w/ Lucy, but I’ll sign off w/ a merci to her for all the work she does.  And especially for this recipe for her Favorite Apple Pie.

pie

 

Filed Under: Desserts, Fall, Fruit, Plant, Recipes, Seasons Tagged With: applepie, apples, applesauce, desserts, fall, spelt, sweets

Midsummer Cherry Clafoutis

June 21, 2015 By Lauren

clafoutisLong before my interest in lunar rhythms or yearly wheels, I celebrated the Summer solstice by chance.  Midsummer, or “midsommer” as I was introduced to it, is the longest day of the year, the official start of Summer and, perhaps, the national holiday of Sweden, similar in scope to the American fourth of July but without all the hot-dog-and-fireworks patriotism.  It was there, amongst maypoles and floral wreaths and silly songs and schnapps, that I was introduced to this kind of seasonal celebration: of abundance, community, fertility, light.

flower

The first potatoes of summer, the first strawberries dipped in cream, a jar of pickled herring preserved and soured over Winter; these foods become precious, even worth national celebration, when considered after a long and dark Winter.

Geneva is at a far lower latitude than Sweden and though we’ve had strawberries for some weeks now and new potatoes for nearly a month, there is still something precious to celebrate: this week, the first sweet cherries appeared at the market, complete with a hand-written sign that read “goutez-moi” (taste me).

cherries

Cherries rarely appear so early where I’m from, four hours south of cherry capital, U.S.A (Traverse City, MI, by the way).  I remember a recipe from the Time-Life Foods of the World series in one of the “American Cooking” books–a picture from the 70s, a handsome group of friends clad in denim and gathered ’round a river, a fire, a cast-iron pan and a recipe for cherry pie.

eggfeather crackedegg

As romantic as it is to think of making a cherry pie around a fire, lost in some far-west American wilds, I’ve found the reality to be far less so.  First, there’s the pitting, then there’s the crust, and by the time the pie’s in the oven you feel like you’ve been cooped up in the kitchen all day. That’s where this clafoutis comes in.

Clow-fow-what-is?!  Clafoutis is a lot more common around these near-to-France parts than in, say, Michigan.  As delicious (if very distinct from) cherry pie, clafoutis is as easy to make as pouring a flan-like batter over a cherry-filled pan.  And pitting?  Forget it!  Traditionally, the pits are left in the cherries as they release the same active compound in almond extract during baking.  So as long as you enjoy spitting pits (or, at least don’t mind) from time to time it’s a win/win.

This version of clafoutis does require a bit of foresight as the batter ferments overnight, which makes this midsummer treat that much more high-vibe.

vanilla mix

Fermented Grains, The Easy Way

Can I share something with you that you might find a little crazy?  I try to eat only processed whole grains. Yep, you read that right.  Whether it’s by sprouting, soaking or full-on fermenting, the grains that I eat have been “processed” according to age-old traditional nutritional wisdom.  From the sour-oat porridge of Wales to the paper-thin dosa of India, many cultures traditional grain-based foods begin with some period of fermentation.

Scientific evidence validates this traditional wisdom as grains contain phytic acid in their bran, or outer layer.  (Fallon, 452).  Untreated phytic acid combines with minerals like calcium, magnesium, copper, iron and zinc in the intestinal tract and block their absorption making a diet high in “unprocessed” whole grains an unwise choice, to say the least.

portrait

Soaking grains in warm, slightly acidic water for seven hours (or overnight) will neutralize a large portion of phytic acid.  Enzymes, lactobacilli and a slew of other helpful organisms formed during fermentation help to do this.  These same organisms also help “pre-digest” difficult to digest proteins, like gluten; which is why it’s especially important to “process” gluten-containing grains (oats, wheat, barley, rye) and why sourdough-based breads and pastries are far easier on the digestive system than their commercially-risen brethren.

So what’s the solution to making a whole-grain flour “processed” before using it in baking something, like, say, a clafoutis?  A sourdough starter is one option, but the growth and maintenance can be prickly for the non-bread-baker’s among us and it’s not really necessary to make a simple fermented dough.  In fact, all that is necessary is some yogurt or kefir or buttermilk and some time.

By allowing your flour to soak overnight in your dairy-ferment of choice, you’re unlocking all of its nutritious potential.  Grains have gotten a bad reputation as of late (cough, “wheat belly”) and one that is, in this baked-goods-lover’s opinion, undeserved.

oven

Print
Midsummer Cherry Clafloutis

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup white flour
  • 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
  • 1 & 1/4 cup buttermilk
  • 3 eggs
  • 1/2 cup rapadura (evaporated cane juice)
  • 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
  • 1 kilo or roughly 3 cups cherries

Directions

  1. Mix flours and buttermilk together in a big mixing bowl. Let ferment overnight.
  2. The next morning, heat over to 350 degrees F add eggs, 1/4 cup rapadura and vanilla and beat until frothy.
  3. Pour a bit of the batter into a large, enamel baking dish. Add cherries, pressing down into dish. Pour over the rest of the batter. Place in oven and bake for 50 minutes, or until a fork-test comes out clean.
  4. Serve warm & with a side of raw cream.
3.1

References:

Fallon, Sally, 1999, 2001. Nourishing Traditions. Washington, DC. Newstrends Publishing Inc.

 

Filed Under: Desserts, Fruit, Plant, Recipes, Seasons, Summer Tagged With: cherries, cherry clafoutis, dessert, late summer, recipes, summer

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