Getaway Sour Cherry Pie

The dog days of August are no time to hang out in DC. That's why D and I spent the first week of the month with her parents in Douglas, MI, a beach town on the eastern side of Lake Michigan, where every day is 75 and sunny and there's a constant breeze rippling through the air. If I didn't have east coast blood in my veins, I'd have been so swept away by the perfect Michigan summer weather that I might have packed up my things and moved.

Our cottage in Douglas was downright luxurious. The beds were plush, the couches were comfy, and there was a beautiful patio out back that was perfect for a lazy afternoon of reading, eating, and gazing aimlessly into the sky.

There was a grill, too -- a brand new grill that the owner generously bought after we inquired. Needless to say, kabobs and grilled chicken were in order.

Our days effortlessly took on a routine. In the morning, we moseyed onto the patio for some coffee and our first glimpse of sun. K and I alternated on breakfast duty -- I cooked a batch of blueberry buttermilk pancakes one morning, she made buttery biscuits the next. Some mornings, we stayed on the lighter side and spooned out some yogurt and berries. D and I lazed around until breakfast was ready, then took clean-up duty once our stomachs were full.

The rest of the midday was spent, as beautiful Michigan lakeside days should be, at the beach. With fresh water, pristine sand, and not a cloud in the sky, it's hard to imagine a more perfect way to spend a few hours. It took a couple days to actually unwind from the craziness of life at home, but once the shoulder muscles relaxed, I got into a steady groove of reading and dozing that's the linchpin of any vacation. By the time the week was done, I'd finished two fabulous books: The Glass Castle, a grim but brave memoir by Jeanette Walls about her impoverished but adventurous childhood, and The History of Love, a complicated but artfully woven story about an old man, an awkward teenager, and their pursuit of a manuscript with a storied past.

We spent a couple afternoons wandering around Douglas, a tiny little artists' town with galleries galore, and the neighboring Saugatuck, a slightly larger and more touristy version of the same. We only needed an hour or so to hit every gallery on the main drag, but we bought a pretty vase for M and a pair of funky earrings for K as a thank-you for having us.

Evenings were spent either grilling at home or trying some of Douglas's restaurants, specifically the Everyday People Cafe and Wild Dog Cafe, both of which are favorites among the locals. Needless to say, we left both utterly stuffed and happy.

Before we knew it, it was time to head home. Vacations can't last forever. This one, however, ended particularly abruptly, as I pulled a 15-hour day my first day back at the office. Turns out, this month is only going to get uglier. Work is just so much busier than I'd anticipated it would be, and alas, that means that NDP may find itself neglected as we head into September. If the light goes on in my kitchen, I'll do my best to share whatever's getting made with you all. Meanwhile, I'm just gonna keep my head down and do my best to survive the next 3+ weeks; wish me luck, and I'll be back as soon the research is done.

I leave you with a recipe for sour cherry pie, which for me is the sheer essence of summer. As you may have guessed, I wait for the day that sour cherries hit the market. In smokin-hot DC, the season is just a couple weeks; fortunately, Michigan's perfect weather means the season lasts a couple months. Before heading for Douglas, K and I went to the Royal Oak farmers' market and got 2 quarts of the red jewels, which I immediately earmarked for pie. When I served up this dessert in Douglas, no one was complaining. No one was talking, really. After all, mouths were full of tart cherries, flaky pie crust and full-on vanilla ice cream.

If you're lucky enough to have sour cherries where you are, make this pronto. If not, frozen cherries will also work.

Sour Cherry Pie adapted from Martha Stewart

2 quarts fresh or 4 cups frozen sour cherries, defrosted until easily separated 1 cup sugar 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling out dough 3 tablespoons cornstarch Juice and grated rind of 1/2 lemon 1 large egg, lightly beaten pinch salt flaky or rock sugar, optional 1 recipe pie crust (I use this one from Deb at Smitten Kitchen)

Directions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine cherries, sugar, flour, cornstarch, salt, lemon juice, and zest.

On a lightly floured surface, roll one disk of dough into a 12-inch round, about 1/8-inch-thick. Fit into a 9-inch pie dish. Let edges hang over sides of dish. Brush beaten egg on all but overhanging parts. Pour in cherry filling. Roll second disk of dough into a 12-inch round. Folding the dough into quarters for easy transport, lay over filling. Trim edges to 1-inch, and seal by crimping edges with thumb and forefinger. Brush with remaining egg. Place on a parchment lined baking sheet. Sprinkle with rock/flake sugar if using.

Bake for 10 minutes. Reduce temperature to 400 degrees. and bake until golden brown and juices are bubbling, 40 to 50 minutes more. Remove from oven, and let cool for at least 1/2 an hour before serving.

Cherry Pistachio Crisp

Dear readers, as you are my witnesses, I'm hereby confessing a minor addiction to sour cherries. After a year-long wait for sour cherry season, I've put up a pitcher of sour cherry liqueur that'll be ready in a few short months (and early tastes have been very, very promising) and I've made a couple pies as well. It seems I can't get quite enough of them. I've even fancied myself the sour cherry connoisseur: when a (rather gruff) farmer declared last Sunday at the market that no one could taste her sour cherries because they're too tart to eat raw, I happily (and loudly) piped up that I eat them raw all the time and had no idea what she was talking about. As you may have guessed, we made fast friends. Needless to say, I scurried right along to the next stand.

After two juicy, bursting weeks of our very short sour cherry season, I'm still high on the cherries, but less excited at the prospect of another pie-dough endeavor. The result is mighty tasty, but it involves just a few too many minutes hovered over the counter piecing together shards of butter-flour and hoping for a semblance of evenness. This time, with a pound of sour cherries in the fridge and an appetite that was burgeoning by the minute, I opted for the easy route: cherry crisp.

You won't see any criticism of crisps on this blog, no siree: D&R are HUGE crisp fans. Apple crisp is practically a weekly staple in our house during winter months, and if you don't blink you can catch one of us -- let's be honest, both of us -- picking the buttery oat clusters off the top as we linger with guests over the end of a dinner party. We're both pretty addicted.

Given the fleeting nature of sour cherry season, I wanted to make a crisp that'd be particularly memorable. Enter Martha Stewart, who had the great idea to include chopped pistachios in the crumble topping. The pistachios add soft, mellow richness that accentuates the sharp, almost shrill tanginess of the sour cherries. It's a lovely combination.

Since I only had a pound of sour cherries, I added to the mix a couple nectarines that were begging to be used. Their softer texture was a welcome contrast to those pearl-like sour cherries and the crunchy pistachio crumble. I'll definitely be making this again. That is, if I can get my hands on some sour cherries...

Sour Cherry Pistachio Crisp adapted from Martha Stewart

• 1 pound pitted fresh or frozen sour cherries • 3/4 pound nectarines, pitted and roughly chopped • 1/2 cup chopped unsalted pistachios • 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose, white whole wheat, or whole wheat pastry flour • 1/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats • 1/4 teaspoon baking powder • Salt • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened • 3 tablespoons packed light-brown sugar • 3/4 cup granulated sugar • 3 teaspoons cornstarch • Pinch of ground cinnamon

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375. If using frozen cherries (though I don't know why you would this time of year), spread them in a single layer on a baking sheet and let stand at room temperature until almost thawed but not mushy, about half an hour. Drain and reserve any accumulated liquid (you can reduce it for a sauce some other time -- too precious to throw away!)

2. Mix pistachios, flour, oats, baking powder, and 1/4 tsp. salt in a medium mixing bowl and set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix butter, brown sugar, and 1/4 cup sugar on medium speed until creamy.

3. Add pistachio mixture into butter mixture and mix on medium speed for about ten seconds, until mixture forms small and large crumbs. Set aside.

4. Stir together cherries, the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, and a pinch of salt in a medium bowl until cornstarch coats cherries and sugar has been incorporated. Pour into an 8-inch square baking dish. Sprinkle crumb topping onto cherry mixture, and bake until topping turns golden and cherry juices bubble, about 50 minutes. Let cool at least 15 minutes before serving (Martha recommends an hour, but who can wait that long?) Serve with vanilla ice cream if you have on hand -- it's a whole other ballgame with the creamy vanilla on top.

Cherry Pit Ice Cream w/Caramelized White Chocolate Ribbon

Well, you've caught me red-handed. Not two weeks after I confessed my inclination toward only the purest of ice cream flavors when making it at home, I've gone stir crazy. First, I went nuts on vanilla by adding drizzles of chocolate; then I made maple ice cream (which, alas, was devoured before I could even get out my camera, but I'll pass along the recipe at the bottom of this post for interested souls). Now I'm really pulling out the big guns. Cherry Pit Ice Cream? What exactly was I thinking?

I'll tell you what. I was thinking that I've been reading about cherry pit ice cream since last year, and the strangeness, the sheer absurdity, piqued my curiosity and eventually won me over. People say it's the best flavor of ice cream they've ever tasted, and all it is is milk, cream, sugar, eggs, and crushed cherry pits. Tell me you're not curious! Who even knows what a cherry pit innard tastes like?

I had to know, and I had to know by steeping a bunch of them in a hell of a lot of organic milk and cream and farmers' market eggs (which, as we've already discussed, are quite the investment). Ten buckaroos later, I'm not waxing poetic like this here Bloggerette, whose cherry pit love-song tends toward the PG13 (gulp!). But I am pretty intrigued. Cherry pit ice cream has the best qualities of almond flavored things -- that is to say, a smooth, nutty, toasty, yet green and somewhat woodsy flavor, with great fragrance -- but none of the bad qualities, which is to say, it tastes nothing like almond extract. Thank heavens. That said, I did find it to be a bit on the bland side, but this is probably my fault -- I used a smaller quantity of pits than the recipe called for, because I can't eat cherries that quickly. But I did alleviate some of the blandness with a new trick from David Lebovitz, and I'm IN LOVE with it: caramelized white chocolate, which actually bears strong resemblance to crack. Oh man, it is so freakin' good. I won't go through the steps of making it -- just see the link to David's blog for all the instructions. Then do yourself a favor and make it.

Cherry Pit Ice Cream adapted from Eggbeater

1 Cup Whole Milk 2 Cup Heavy Cream 3/4 Cup Sugar 5 Large Egg Yolks 1 - 1 1/2 Cups Smashed Cherry Pits

Heat milk, cream, pits, and half the sugar, in that order, in heavy bottomed stainless steel saucepan over low to medium heat. When hot to the touch, shut off heat, whisk and let steep 1-2 hours, tasting every 30 minutes.

When hot dairy tastes as strong as you'd like it (remembering that it will taste stronger in flavor and sweetness when it's hot), pass through a fine meshed sieve, pressing on the solids to press out as much of the liquid as you can.

Whisk together the egg yolks in a separate bowl and gradually add some of the warmed milk into the yolks, stirring constantly as you pour. Once all the milk is in the bowl with the yolks, pour the mixture back into the saucepan.

3. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly and scraping the bottom with a heat-proof spatula (I used a wooden spoon), until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of the spatula. Strain the custard into a large bowl and chill thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturers instructions.

Caramelized White Chocolate From David Lebovitz About one cup (250ml)

The idea behind this recipe is that, when you cook white chocolate over a low heat for a long period of time, stirring all the while, the white chocolate will begin to caramelize; its color darkens and its flavor takes on a deeper, nuttier quality. You must, however, be very careful about overcooking; I did a test run with just a couple bits of white chocolate, and before I knew it, they were dark brown and grainy. Be sure to check every ten minutes -- even every 8, to be safe -- and when you remove the pan from the oven to stir, make sure you scrape around the edges of the pan to really incorporate those straggling bits into the greater mass. David says that if you overcook the chocolate and it takes on that grainy quality, you can press it through a fine mesh sieve and it'll be just fine -- but I ate mine, right off the pan, and it was still pretty delicious.

12 ounces (340gr) white chocolate, a block or in fêves (as shown) pinch of flaky sea salt

Preheat the oven to 250F (120 C)

1. If the white chocolate is in a block, chop it into coarse pieces.

2. Distribute the white chocolate on a rimmed baking sheet and heat for ten minutes.

3. Remove it from the oven and spread it with a clean, dry spatula, making sure to incorporate those bits at the edges and to really fold the chocolate over itself several times.

4. Continue to cook for and additional 40-60 minutes, stirring at 10 minute intervals. At times it will lump together and appear to harden, or lose its sheen and look lumpy (as mine did), but that's ok -- just keep stirring it and folding it together and it'll smooth out in the end.

5. Cook until the white chocolate is deep-golden brown, and caramelized. Stir in a good pinch of sea salt.

David recommends using an immersion blender if the chocolate is lumpy. I wonder if this would make whipped white chocolate, an interesting concept...

Store in a jar, at room temperature, until ready to use. It should keep for several months, if stored in a cool, dry place.

Biscotti, the even-healthier way

Just thought you'd all like to know that we've been tinkering around here at NDP and I've managed to make some biscotti that are better for you and equally delicious. After some tinkering, I made the same ones I made the last time -- cherry almond -- with half white whole wheat flour and half turbinado (unrefined) sugar. I'm willing to bet you can even do all unrefined sugar with great results. For the eggs, I used 1 egg and 2 egg whites this time, and it produced a crunchy cookie that wasn't too much of a tooth-cracker. Just a little FYI for the weekend. I'll be back with an actual post soon...