A Taste of Summer: Perfect Peach-Ginger Pie

There are certain foods that have a fleeting life, their peak flavours sharpened by memory and desire.  Tomatoes have long been my obsession;  I can't bear the thought of not having my fill of that juicy, sweet and acidic burst of summer.

But lately I have a new diversion.  How is it that I never noticed how perfect a perfectly ripe peach really is?  The joy of finding one that is both firm and juicy, not too soft, the juices running down my chin, the flesh ripping away cleanly from the stone at the centre.   

When I can buy them by the basketful that’s when the fun really starts.  Peach salsa.  Buttery peach brioche.  Peach-plum ginger jam. And my newest peach obsession: peach pie.   

I wanted to think about how to create a new flavour profile for this pie; something that added depth without overpowering the indescribable taste of a fresh peach.  The lovely ginger zing of my peach-plum jam was playing in my mind, but I knew that, sadly, the lone piece of ginger in the house was well past its due date.

As with so much of cooking, the answer was right in front of me, or rather right in my fridge.  At this year's Big Summer Potluck, I came home with a treasure trove of Gourmet Garden goodies.  Do you you know Gourmet Garden? It's the brilliant solution to having every fresh herb you could wish for at your fingertips, beautifully preserved and ready to use a dollop at a time.  No more soggy cilantro or past-its-prime parsley.  Best of all, no more withered stub of gingerroot hidden at the bottom of my crisper.

 

With a tube of Gourmet Garden's fresh ginger paste at hand, I knew I had the perfect complement to my perfect peaches - and the makings of a peachy pie.  Fresh made easy, indeed.

Peach Pie

makes one 9" pie

2 ½ lbs peaches, peeled, pitted and sliced

¾ c sugar

1 tbsp lemon juice (Meyer lemons if you have them)

2 tsp grated lemon zest

1 tbsp fresh grated ginger or 1 tbsp Gourmet Garden Ginger Paste

½ tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp mace

¼ tsp salt

3 tbsp instant tapioca, ground

½ c ground gingersnaps 
Your favourite pie dough, enough for a double crust pie. Mine is here.  
1 egg, lightly beaten

1. Preheat oven to 425F.

2. In a medium saucepan, cook peaches, sugar, lemon juice, zest, ginger, cinnamon, mace and salt over medium-low heat for 10 minutes.  Take off heat and stir in tapioca.

3.  Prepare pie dough by rolling out a 10" inch round for the bottom.  Fit the dough into your pie pan and sprinkle the gingersnap crumbs evenly along the bottom.  Let the dough rest in the fridge for 10 minutes before proceeding.

4.  Pour the peach mixture evenly into the pan.  Brush the edges of the dough with the beaten egg.  Top the pie with another round of dough and crimp the edges.  Make a few decorative slits on the pie top.  Let the dough rest again for 10 minutes before baking.  This pie is very pretty with a lattice top too.*  

5.  Bake the pie on the middle rack of the oven for 10 minutes at 425F.  Lower the heat to 350F, and bake for another 40 to 50 minutes, or until the top is golden and the juices of the fruit are bubbling.

*Hint for lattice top lovers: make the lattice top on a piece of parchment paper, and once done, slip it on a cutting board and into the freezer for a few minutes.  It will be much easier to position on the pie.

Taking the Chill out of Winter: Apple-Ginger Hot Toddy with Calvados

Brew me a cup for a winter's night.

For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;

Spice it with love and stir it with care,

And I'll toast our bright eyes,

my sweetheart fair
                                             Minna Thomas Antrim
  

There is much to love, I think, about winter. Blazing hot logs in the fireplace; the crunch of snow on a blinding bright sunny winter’s day; the brilliant flash of cardinals lingering at the bird feeder, their song calling to the more timid house finches and chickadees. Cosy thick sweaters; cashmere scarves soft as a baby’s cheek. The days inching longer and with them, the promise of spring.

But winter has its dark underbelly too.  Dreary naked branches longing for green; slushy wet snow that seeps into your boots and between your toes.  The monotony of root vegetables and wooden tomatoes.  And worst of all...the dreaded spectre of colds and flu.  My usual stamina and boundless energy often get caught unawares, a cold creeping in on cat’s feet and settling in for a long winter’s nap. 
  

As I try and shake off the vestiges of a lingering cough, I do the sensible thing and make a steaming hot toddy full of natural goodness and a little bit of something stiffer.  By the time I’ve drained the last spicy dregs, I feel the warmth seeping down to my toes and my eyes drooping.  Winter may not be over, but my cold, on its last shaky legs, totters out the door.

Apple-Ginger Hot Toddy with Calvados 

Makes one serving 

This toddy uses a generous amount of cayenne pepper, rich in capsaicin.  An ancient remedy for all sorts of ills, cayenne is also known to have anti-irritant properties, easing sore throats and lingering coughs.  If you prefer a milder version either reduce the amount or eliminate the cayenne entirely.

 
1 c apple cider, heated

1 oz Calvados, or more to taste* 
Three thick slices fresh ginger, cut in slivers

Generous pinch cayenne pepper, or to taste

1 cinnamon stick
1 lemon wedge, spiked with three whole cloves
The juice of ½ lemon

1 tsp honey (more to taste)

1 ginger teabag (I use Pukka Three Ginger Tea) 

*Calvados, a French brandy from Normandy, adds an extra glow to this toddy

Combine all of the ingredients in a large mug and top with boiling water. Let steep for at least five minutes. Scoop out the solids and the teabag, leaving just the lemon wedge. Wrap up in your favourite blanket, sit back and enjoy.

Piercing the lemon with cloves is a practical way to avoid swallowing

one whole...

Magical natural ingredients: lemon, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, cayenne and honey combine with calvados, apple cider and tea to fight the worst of winter's chills

Autumn Canning: Two-Step Carmelized Pear-Ginger Marmalade

In canning, there are no mistakes, only opportunities. 

But that wisdom is hard-won, and not so obvious the first time you burn a batch of jam, or over-process the marmalade until it's as stiff and unyielding as hardened honey.  These seeming failures can be transformed into something quite wonderful by the addition of one simple ingredient: imagination. 

I learned that first from Marisa McClennan of Food in Jars.  This summer I watched Marisa making plum jam in front of a group of 80 food bloggers in less than ideal conditions: a picturesque but sticky hot barn; a tabletop cooking element that could barely get the jam to boil and wouldn't work if the fan was on.  Marisa carried on as if she was in the comfort of her own kitchen, expertly working her alchemy on simple fruit and sugar, and teaching us how to recognise when the critical "gel" stage had been reached. 

"If you keep cooking the jam and it won't set, just call it preserves and carry on," she said casually. "No one will know the difference and it will still be delicious."  Sage advice indeed.

I was reminded of this last week when I was making pear-ginger marmalade for the first time.  A simple recipe, a familiar technique...but just an extra few minutes on the stove turned the marmalade from "set" to a shade too brown, the whole thing seconds from being burnt.  A thicky, gooey - but still delicious - bit of a mess.

What if this became carmelized marmalade instead of plain old pear-ginger marmalade?  What if I made another batch in equal measure, cooked by five minutes less, and the two batches combined into one delightful whole?  I'd have twice the marmalade, with a deep caramel flavour that added a richness that the original recipe lacked.

An opportunity presented.  Imagination deployed.  And a delectable new addition to my canning repertoire.   

Two-Batch Carmelized Pear-Ginger Marmalade
yields 6-8 half pint jars

This marmalade is made in two steps: the first batch of marmalade is cooked slightly longer to allow the sugar to carmelize and the colour to deepen. You will repeat steps one through three for each batch.  Each step can be done one after the other, or each batch can be made one after the other.  Either way, you will be cooking the marmalade in two steps.

For each batch of marmalade, you will need the following ingredients. Be sure to buy enough of everything. 

4 limes
8 cups peeled, cored and diced firm but ripe pears
3 cups granulated sugar
¼ c crystallised ginger, diced
1¼ c water

1.  Using a zester, remove lime peel in very thin strips from three of the limes.  Set peel aside in a small bowl.  Juice all four of the limes and and put the juice in a large non reactive bowl. 

A zester makes easy work of stripping the limes of their

fragrant peel

2.  Prep eight cups of pears by peeling, coring and dicing them, adding each pear to the lime juice as you go, and stirring gently to coat with lime juice.  Add the sugar and the ginger, and stir gently one final time until all the ingredients are well combined.  Set aside for one hour.

3. While the pears are macerating, in a small pot, combine lime peel and water.  Bring to a boil and cook about 15 minutes, until peel is tender and most of liquid is evaporated. Drain liquid, adding it to pear mixture. Set rind aside.

For Carmelized Marmalade (Batch One)
Put the pear mixture in a large, non-reactive pot, and bring to a boil over medium heat.  Boil hard, stirring frequently and skimming foam as it gathers, for 15 minutes.  Add lime peel and boil until mixture begins to deepen in colour and the sugar carmelizes, no more than an additional 5 minutes.  Watch the marmalade closely.  As soon as the mixture begins to carmelize and thicken, take off the heat immediately.  Set aside while you prepare the second batch.

When doing the first batch of marmalade, look for a deep caramel colour and immediately remove from the heat to prevent scorching

For Batch Two
Prepare the second batch of marmalade, following steps 1 through 3 above.  When you bring the pear mixture to a boil, add the lime peel after 10 minutes and do not boil for longer than 15 minutes. 

The second batch will lighter in colour and not as thick

While the second batch is cooking, gently heat the first batch until it is hot.  When both batches are done, combine them thoroughly and ladle hot marmalade into prepared sterilized jars.  Process in a hot water bath 10 minutes.  Remove the jars and let the marmalade cool completely. 

This delicious marmalade is equally good as sweet treat on rich pannetone or as an accompaniment for a cheese plate.

BSP3 Part Two: Peachy Keen Canning - Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam

Do you know Food in Jars? It's the absolutely wonderful blog authored by that genius of jam, Marisa McClellan.  Marisa's warm and inviting writing style welcomes you into her kitchen as she shares her preserving adventures, experiments, successes and near misses.  No matter what's bubbling in the pot, Marisa's blog makes you want to take a peek inside, dip a spoon in, and taste whatever deliciousness she's cooking.  Or better yet, load up at the farmers' market and try to capture all that ripe goodness in a jar for yourself.

I was beyond thrilled when I saw that Marisa was going to be at BSP3 this year.  But I also couldn't believe she had been at last year's gathering; Marisa, how have I missed meeting you two years in a row? 

Never mind.  A highlight of BSP was watching Marisa make plum jam, demonstrating her canning alchemy with grace and humour in 90˚ heat.  And best of all, I won one of Marisa's hot off the press cookbooks, the gorgeous Food in Jars.  With peaches in season and the best they've been in years, it was time to get back into the kitchen with Marisa.   

Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam
from Food in Jars, Marisa McClellan
makes approx 8 half pint jars

If you haven't canned before, this link will take you to my blog post on making plum jam, filled with step by step photos and further links to great canning sites (plus a super easy recipe for Italian plum jam).

Marisa doesn't specify what type of plums to use; whatever is in season and bursting with ripeness is the right choice.  I was lucky to get sweet and sunny Shiro plums; their bright yellow added a golden glow to the jam.

8 c peeled, pitted and mashed peaches (about 4 lb)
4 c pitted and mashed Shiro plums
6 c granulated sugar
1 c ginger juice*

*To make ginger juice, shred an 8 oz piece of peeled ginger, cut into large chunks, in a blender with ½ c of water.  Pour the ginger pulp into a cheesecloth lined sieve and squeeze out the liquid, discarding the remaining pulp.

1.  Prep your canning equipment. Clean and sterilise half pint jars by washing them in warm soapy water and rinsing thoroughly; putting them through the quick wash cycle in the dishwasher is even easier and ensures sterilization. Set aside on a clean tea towel.

2. Wash the lids and the bands.  Keep the lids hot in a small pot of simmering water.  Fill your canner with water, add the clean jars, and put on the stove over medium high heat.

3.  Combine the fruit, sugar and ginger juice in a large pot.  Attach a candy thermometer to the side of the pot and bring the jam to a simmer.  Increase the heat and boil the jam briskly until it reaches 220˚F, or it passes the saucer/spoon test.



4.  Drain the jars from the water bath, and pour the hot jam into the jars.  Apply lids and bands, put back in water bath and bring to a boil.  Process for 10 minutes, remove from water and set aside to cool thoroughly.

Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam; delicious with freshly baked croissants