by Suvir Saran
It’s heavenly with Grandma Mae’s Biscuits and crème fraîche. One neighbor, Betty Osborne, uses it as a glaze for her baked chicken, and I’ve used it to glaze a country ham. My mother even took a few jars to India, where she smears it on toast for breakfast. For a country-size batch that yields 18 to 20 pt/7.5 to 9.5 L of jam, quadruple the recipe and use a very large 15-qt/14.2-L pot.
Makes 4 pt/2 L
¼ tsp saffron threads
1 tsp kosher salt
4 lb/1.8 kg rhubarb, ends trimmed and stalks thinly sliced
3 crisp apples, halved, cored, and thinly sliced
2½ lb/1.2 kg sugar
Juice and rind from 1 lemon, rind sliced into thin strips
½ cup/85 g currants
1½-in/4-cm piece ginger, peeled and finely minced
2 tbsp dried rose petals
½ tsp freshly ground pink peppercorns
¼ tsp ground ginger
Toast the saffron and ¼ tsp of the salt in a small frying pan over medium heat until fragrant, 30 seconds to 1 minute. Transfer to a mortar and pestle (or small bowl) and grind into a fine powder (if using a bowl, pulverize the saffron using the back of a spoon).
Place the rhubarb, apples, sugar, lemon juice and rind, currants, minced ginger, rose petals, peppercorns, ground ginger, ground saffron, and remaining ¾ tsp salt in a large nonreactive pot. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring often, and cook until thick and jammy, 30 to 45 minutes. Turn off the heat and immediately process according to the instructions for “Seasonal Jam”.
Rhubarb and Raspberry Cobbler with Crème Fraîche
The idea for this cobbler was inspired by one we shared with U.S. Congressman Scott Murphy and his scholarly wife, Jennifer Hogan, who are known for hosting epic brunches at their Glens Falls home. After enjoying her rhubarb cobbler at one early-summer Sunday gathering, I knew I had to make it a part of my repertoire. I added a handful of supersweet garnet raspberries from Meg Southerland’s crop over at Gardenworks, our favorite nursery and country store, to boost the color and lend a natural sweetness to the tart rhubarb. I love the cobbler with a heaping cloud of tangy whipped crème fraîche on top, but Charlie is satisfied by simply pouring milk over the cobbler. If you’re from the South, you might agree.
Serves 8
FOR THE RHUBARB
3 lb/1.4 kg rhubarb, ends trimmed and stalks sliced 1 in/2.5 cm thick
1 cup/125 g raspberries
1 cup/200 g sugar
Zest of 1 orange
FOR THE TOPPING
1½ cups/175 g all-purpose flour
¼ cup/50 g sugar
1½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp kosher salt
¾ cup/175 ml buttermilk
4 tbsp/55 g unsalted butter, melted
1 large egg
FOR THE CRÈME FRAÎCHE CREAM
½ cup/120 ml heavy cream
1½ tbsp sugar
¼ cup/120 ml crème fraîche, store-bought or homemade (see recipe)
Adjust one oven rack to the lower-middle position and another oven rack to the lowest position. Preheat the oven to 375°F/190°C/gas 5. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil and set aside.
To prepare the rhubarb: Place the rhubarb, raspberries, sugar, and orange zest in a large pot over low heat. Cover the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb is tender and the mixture is very juicy, 15 to 20 minutes.
Using a slotted spoon, transfer the cooked fruit to a 2-in-/5-cm-deep 2-qt/1.9-L baking dish and set aside. Bring the fruit juices in the pot to a simmer over medium heat and cook until the volume is reduced by half and the consistency becomes thick and jammy, 8 to 10 minutes. Use a rubber spatula to scrape the liquid over the fruit in the baking dish, and set aside.
To make the topping: Sift together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. In a large bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, butter, and egg. Add the flour mixture to the buttermilk mixture and, using a wooden spoon, gently stir the two together until the batter is lumpy with a few remaining dry streaks. Using a rubber spatula, scrape the batter over the fruit in the baking dish so that it evenly covers the surface.
Place the aluminum foil–lined baking sheet on the lowest oven rack and the cobbler on the lower-middle rack (the foil-lined baking sheet will catch the juices that bubble out of the baking dish). Bake until the fruit juices bubble around the sides of the cobbler, the topping is golden brown, and a cake tester inserted into the topping comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Remove the baking dish from the oven and set it aside to cool. Remove the aluminum foil–lined baking sheet from the oven.
To make the crème fraîche cream: In the bowl of a stand mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand mixer), beat together the cream and sugar until soft peaks are formed. Add the crème fraîche and continue to beat until medium-stiff peaks form.
Serve the cobbler hot, warm, or at room temperature and topped with the crème fraîche cream.
VARIATION: INDIVIDUAL COBBLERS
Divide the fruit filling among eight 1-cup/240-ml ramekins. Top with the cobbler topping, and place the ramekins on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake until the fruit is bubbling around the edges, the topping is golden brown, and a cake tester inserted into the center of the topping comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove the baking sheet from the oven and set the ramekins aside to cool slightly before serving.
VARIATION: CARAMELY CRÈME FRAÎCHE CREAM
Bring the cream and 1½ tbsp light or dark brown sugar to a simmer in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring often to dissolve the sugar. Turn off the heat, and pour the sweetened cream into a small bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until the cream is chilled, about 2 hours. Proceed in making the crème fraîche cream as described.
Almost-Flourless Caramel-Lacquered Chocolate-Peanut Torte
Peanuts are very country, very old-fashioned, and very American—and I love them—especially with chocolate. This torte is a cross between a brownie and a chocolate cake that is topped with a crème brûlée–style crackled sugar crust. It’s wonderfully decadent. The ground peanuts and peanut flour really give the chocolate a warmth and nuttiness that is at once alluring, comforting, and really delicious. It’s an “almost” flourless chocolate cake because I include a slice of several-day-old bread in the batter. This addition can easily be eliminated for those with gluten sensitivities or if making this cake for Passover, when only flourless dishes can grace the table. You can vary this cake by using almonds or walnuts in place of the peanuts if you like, but we like peanuts and that certain bit of country charm they seem to bring to the table, even though the cake looks as chic as can be.
Serves 8
11 tbsp/165 g unsalted butter at room temperature
1 slice 2- to 3-day-old bread (or 1 fresh slice toasted in a warm oven until dry but not browned)
1 cup/150 g roasted and salted peanuts
2½ tbsp dark-roasted peanut flour (see Farmhouse Resources)
½ cup/100 g packed dark brown sugar
4 large eggs, separated
2 tsp vanilla bean paste or vanilla extract
½ cup/130 g granulated sugar, plus 3 tbsp
4 oz/60 g chocolate (70 to 80 percent cacao), grated
Preheat the oven to 325°F/165°C/gas 3. Grease a 9-in/23-cm springform pan with 1 tbsp of the butter. Place the pan on top of a sheet of parchment paper, and trace a circle around the pan; cut it out and place the paper circle in the bottom of the pan to grease the underside. Flip the paper circle over and press it into place. Set aside.
Place the bread in a food processor and pulse until it forms medium-coarse crumbs. Add the peanuts and peanut flour, and pulse until the texture is like rough sand (don’t overprocess the mixture, or it will become peanut butter).
Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment or a hand mixer and a large bowl, cream the remaining 10 tbsp/155 g butter until it is fluffy and pale. Add the brown sugar and continue to cream until pale, then add the eg
g yolks, one at a time, mixing thoroughly between additions and scraping the bottom and sides of the bowl as needed. Add the vanilla, reduce the speed to low, and add the peanut mixture.
In another bowl, whisk the egg whites with the 3 tbsp sugar until the whites form stiff peaks. Fold the whipped whites into the batter in three additions, adding the grated chocolate along with the last addition, folding until just a few streaks of white remain. Scrape the mixture into the prepared cake pan and bake until the sides pull away from the edges of the pan and a cake tester inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, about 1 hour.
Remove the pan from the oven and set on a wire cooling rack for 5 minutes before releasing the latch and lifting the side of the pan away from the bottom. Let cool completely before inverting the cake onto a large flat plate, cutting board, or baking sheet, lifting off the pan bottom, and peeling away the parchment circle. Reinvert the cake onto a cake plate or platter.
Place the remaining ½ cup/100 g sugar and 2/3 cup/160 ml cold water into a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves, and then let the sugar simmer, swirling the pan occasionally, until the liquid becomes an amber-color caramel, 15 to 17 minutes. Remove from the heat immediately and, using an offset spatula, pour and spread the caramel syrup over the top of the cake. Let the cake cool, then slice and serve at room temperature.
RECIPE NOTE: THE PEANUT GANG
In this recipe, I replace the customary almonds, hazelnuts, or walnuts with the unexpected peanut. Humble and pleasing, the peanut isn’t a nut at all but rather a legume. It’s rich in protein and fiber and is considered brain food because of its high nutritive value. Since they are so nutritious, readily available, and kind on the wallet, we go through loads of peanuts at the farm—whole peanuts in Peanut Chaat, ground peanuts in the Chocolate-Peanut Tart with Caramel and Chocolate Mousse, and finally peanut flour in my recipe for Peanut Fried Chicken. We even help grow them at the Courthouse Community Garden in Salem.
There are four basic varieties of American peanut: Spanish, Runner, Valencia, and Virginia. Spanish peanuts are the smallest and are most often used in candies; Runners are a popular choice for peanut butter; Sweet Valencias are delicious boiled; and, my favorite, Virginia peanuts are the largest and most delicious, especially for cooking. When purchasing peanuts, be sure to check the label and look for the place of origin— many peanut-growing countries buy American seeds, grow them abroad, and then sell them as “Virginia” peanuts. If you can’t locate true Virginia peanuts, check online sources like Royal Oak Peanuts (see “Farmhouse Resources”)—believe me, they’re worth it.
CHAPTER TWO
SUMMER
Sweet Corn, Snap Peas, and a Steady Stream of New Faces
Short, sweet, and snappy: This is summertime in North Country. Almost before we realize that we are in the midst of summer, it’s gone. So while it’s here, we enjoy ourselves to the fullest.
For the most part, the weather is so pleasant and lovely that all we need are a few fans going during the daytime. On those rare hot and humid days that make their way up north to us, I make chilled herbal tea using lemon thyme, lemon verbena, or mint steeped in boiling water, chilled, and sweetened with sugar syrup.
At night, the fresh country air invades the house, bringing a slight chill into the sitting room on even the stickiest days. Curling up on the sofa with a light blanket isn’t out of the question. When the temperature drops, the mist rolls in from the hills in thick waves, settling on the land around the pond at the back of the house. As I wash the dinner dishes, the sounds of honking geese and echoing frogs draw my gaze to the window, and I try in vain to locate them through the thick curtain of blue fog.
Living at the farm during the summer is truly a gift. We get the juiciest and most perfumed strawberries, unbelievable corn, potatoes of all colors and shapes, sweeter-than-sugar sugar snap peas, amazing tomatoes, and a cornucopia of herbs, beans, and all kinds of vegetables that enchant with their robustness. North Country simply shines in the summertime. Sometimes it seems like all we have to do is toss a seed into the earth, and the rich soil, weekly rain, ample sunshine, and tempered evenings make it blossom and flourish.
Summer happens to be the time when everyone in the country has friends and family visiting, and our home is no exception. Our door never stops revolving as the farm becomes an extension of Manhattan, New Delhi, and all points in between. At the farm, we hold steadfast to one rule: You are always welcome, as long as you’re willing to be part of the family. We don’t expect anyone to stand on formality—what’s ours is yours. We ask our friends to treat our kitchen, garden, and home as if it were their own. For those who can’t seem to sit still for more than a few minutes, peace and solitude is found in pitching in to weed the herb and vegetable gardens, while others help us feed the animals, make trips to the farmstand or the supermarket, or entertain us with jokes, stories, and gossip. On some busy weekends, we have one group of guests leaving after breakfast, with the next entourage arriving in the early afternoon—Charlie has to be very quick about changing the sheets! Between locals dropping by with fresh river trout or homemade jam, and visitors calling on us from all corners of the world, each day becomes a packed whirlwind of cooking, eating, gabbing, and sightseeing. Through a good mix of people, lots of wonderful energy, and tons of peak produce, we celebrate these weeks to their fullest.
While this action-packed season offers Charlie and me little time for rest and relaxation, if it weren’t for visitors, we’d probably be lonely up here at the farm, since most of our local farmer-friends vanish completely, busy with feeding, tending, and milking their animals; baling hay; harvesting vegetables; and making cheese. Aside from a friendly stop-by or the rare occasion when we lure them to our dining table with a promise of fried pakoras or homemade strawberry ice cream, we know that we’ll rekindle our local friendships during the late autumn and winter, when the sun’s rays are less potent, the land grows still, and time becomes the com- modity of the season.
Deviled Eggs with Cilantro, Chiles, and Spices
This spiced twist on classic deviled eggs relies on fresh chiles, fresh cilantro, and sambhaar powder for heat, flavor, and color and on crème fraîche and lemon juice for an incredibly rich tang. If you have access to farm-fresh eggs, I encourage you to use them, though do refrigerate them for at least seven days before boiling. Aging allows the inner membrane between the shell and the white to loosen, making the cooked eggs easier to peel. I promise that the richness of the yolks and their intense yellow color make them completely worth it.
Makes 2 dozen deviled eggs
12 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and halved lengthwise
2 tbsp peanut or canola oil
30 fresh or 45 frozen curry leaves (see Farmhouse Basics), finely chopped
1 tsp brown mustard seeds
¾ tsp cumin seeds
1 small red onion, finely chopped
1½ tsp kosher salt
1 small jalapeño (seeded and ribbed for less heat), finely chopped
1 tbsp Sambhaar Powder
½ cup/120 ml crème fraîche, store-bought or homemade (see recipe)
¼ cup/60 ml mayonnaise, store-bought or homemade (see recipe)
¼ cup/60 ml fresh lemon juice
½ cup/20 g finely chopped fresh cilantro
Pop the yolks out of the halved eggs, place them in a medium bowl, and set aside. Place the halved egg whites on a platter, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until you’re ready to fill them.
Heat the oil, curry leaves, mustard seeds, and cumin seeds in a large frying pan over medium-high heat, stirring often, until the curry leaves are fragrant and the mustard seeds begin to pop, 1½ to 2 minutes. Add the onion and salt and cook, stirring often, until the onion is browned around the edges, about 5 minutes. Pour in 2 tbsp water and continue to cook until the onion is very dark brown, about 2 minutes, then stir in another ¼ cup/60 ml water, stirring and scraping any browned bits off the bottom of the
pan. Stir in the jalapeño and sambhaar powder, and cook until the mixture begins to stick to the bottom of the pan, about 30 seconds, stirring often. Scrape the mixture into the bowl with the egg yolks.
Using a fork or potato masher, mash the yolks and onion-spice mixture together until very smooth. Stir in the crème fraîche and mayonnaise and, once they’re incorporated, mix in the lemon juice and cilantro. Taste for seasoning and then cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 1 hour or up to overnight before filling the egg whites. Once the mixture has set up, spoon or pipe (using a pastry bag fitted with a round tip) a generous amount into each egg white half (I usually use a generous 1 tbsp of filling for each egg white half). Once the eggs are filled, either serve immediately or cover with plastic wrap and chill up to overnight before serving.
Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes, Onions, and Herbs
A good friend of ours, Sal Rizzo, the owner of the De Gustibus cooking school at Macy’s in New York City, came to visit one summer and made this dish for Charlie and me using ripe tomatoes and fresh basil from the garden. The dish immediately charmed everyone at the table—scrambled eggs with personality! Even people who say they don’t like scrambled eggs love these. They’re bursting with fresh flavor and richness, especially when made with just-collected eggs from our henhouse. For a fantastic country marinara for pasta, just leave out the eggs.
Serves 6 to 8
6 tbsp/85 g unsalted butter
½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
6 fresh oregano leaves, finely chopped
