Pear and Blueberry Cobbler

We weren’t big dessert eaters growing up. Mum wasn’t a sweet tooth, much to Dad’s chagrin, so for her the purchase and preparation of sweets just wasn’t a priority. The occasional tub of ice cream would appear when I badgered her at the supermarket, sometimes jelly and other times a packet pudding when the urge took hold, but until I was a teen and keen cook myself no dessert.

My dad the sweet tooth would lean into tinned fruit as a substitute or when he was particularly motivated stewed fruit. I wasn’t a big fruit eater as a child so the idea of cooked fruit was a big stretch, unless of course it was wrapped in pastry or hiding under a crumble topping. Like many Australian households our cupboards were well filled with cans of preserved fruit, peaches, apricots, pears and the ubiquitous two fruits not that I’m sure what two actually constituted ‘Two Fruits.’ I never really favoured those either to be honest though Dad always said ‘eat some fruit, it’s good for you.’ So muddle through I would though not a fan of the texture and sweetness of the canned variety.

I think on reflection it’s a generational thing. My parents, both the offspring of war and great depression survivors, had been served fruit prepared like this as an economic alternative. Fresh fruit wasn’t as widely consumed or favoured, nor indeed available. Whilst in more recent history we’ve turned to fresh fruit for lunch boxes and snacks and have been able to offer a wide variety of options to our kids. They’re convenient, easily eaten and if purchased in season affordable. Perhaps this variety and availability has pulled us away from stewed and preserved fruit and our tastebuds become unfamiliar. Maybe our perceptions of fruit of this nature is almost skewed and seen as lesser in some ways.

Last year though cooked fruit and I reacquainted ourselves. Call it curiosity or a craving, I’m not really sure what drove it but I had a yearning for a poached pear. Leaning on google of course this lovely simple dish by famed David Liebowitz was my starting point. I happily enjoyed pears for days for dessert, breakfast and in between. Then this year during a shoot was lucky enough to eat these ruby jewelled delights prepared by my client and realised something. Aside from how delicious poached/stewed/cooked fruit is it’s a bit of a metaphor for how our food knowledge has grown. Previous generations would have cooked fruit in water and sugar. Too many other ingredients wouldn’t have been imagined or considered. Perhaps they’d be seen as indulgent and an unnecessary expense and quite possibly palates of a less adventurous spirit such as those of earlier generations wouldn’t have been enticed by extra flavours. I also realised I’m a similar age to that which my dad was when encouraging me to eat fruit like this. A sign of age? Possibly but probably musings for another day.

So back to that cooked fruit. As I said I’m quite partial to desserts in which fruit is wrapped or topped by something. Whilst I love making pastry, I also love a simple dish that’s moreish, comforting and most importantly easy to throw together. Years ago I was introduced to the idea of a cobbler by a friend. Whilst I’d heard of them on American tv I had no idea what they actually were. I became hooked. This is my version of one perfect for the shift of seasons from autumn to winter. Whilst blueberries have been expensive in parts of Australia recently prices are settling, however if they’re still unavailable in your area you might like to sub in your favourite berry or just leave them out and pay homage to all the gorgeous pears available.

Ingredients:

Fruit:

4 pears, peeled, cored and sliced into 8 wedges. Any variety is fine.

100 gm caster sugar

2 tsp vanilla paste

3 tsp (15ml) apple cider vinegar

200 gm blueberries

1 Tb Water

Cobbler topping:

180 gm butter, cold and cubed

Rind of 1 lemon

½ tsp ground ginger

220 gm self-raising flour

70 gm caster sugar

150 ml butter milk

1 tbs demerara or raw sugar crystals

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c and butter a suitably sized ceramic or glass baking dish. You want the fruit to cover the base in a tightly packed single’ish layer.

Place the fruit, sugar, vanilla, vinegar and water in a wide based saucepan over a low heat. Simmer gently until a syrup forms from the juices seeping out, the sugar has dissolved, the blueberries have softened and the pears are starting to soften but not cooked through, there’ll be purple streaks from the berries starting to stain the syrup. The pears will finish in the oven. Leave to cool slightly in the pot.

Now here’s the game changer. In a food processor or blender in this order place the butter cubes, lemon rind, then all the dry ingredients except the demerara sugar. Pulse 3-4 times until the butter and flour are rubbed together similarly to if you were making scones, little lumps of butter not completely rubbed in is fine. You can of course do this with your hands if you don’t have the relevant appliance. Tip this into a bowl and stir in the buttermilk gently until just combined. It will be wetter than a scone mixture almost like a too thick cake mixture or too wet scone mixture with some dry, buttery crumbs.

In your prepared dish, spread the fruit and syrup across the base. Dollop spoonful’s of cobbler mixture across the top covering the fruit as best you can but don’t worry too much about gaps, the mixture will expand and fill most of these gaps upon cooking. Sprinkle over the demerara sugar and cook for 40-45 minutes or until the top is golden brown. Allow to cool for 15 mins before serving letting the syrup temper and not be too hot to eat. Serve with your favourite creamy addition. I love cream or custard, but hubby likes ice cream, both are delicious.

Blueberry and Spiced Frangipane Galette

In the way I spoke about creative block a few weeks ago, this week the creativity was free flowing but the frustration ever strong. I knew what I wanted to create and I knew the basics and mechanics of those elements and was sure it should have worked. Sadly though the frangipane wasn’t set. The flavour was exactly where I wanted it but the texture was all wrong. Falling away from perfect at the outer it was sludgy in the centre and frustratingly oozy. I love Frangipane and have made it many times so you can imagine how annoyed I was. It took me back to my twenties when I was trying all sorts of new cooking techniques and recipes in my own home and my own first small and humble kitchen. With a much narrower skill base but boundless interest and motivation the breadth of things I would try and create was almost as great as the depth of failures. I would have, what amounted, to tantrums almost. Sitting at the table with my then boyfriend (now husband) sullenly eating a meal I could see in my mind’s eye but not taste at the end of my fork, almost annoyed at his fervour for the meal he had been presented with and his lack of acknowledgement of my ‘catastrophe.’ This frustration was most probably the catalyst for my cookbook collection and my passion for cooking. An interest and persistence born out of frustration pushing me ever forward.

The irony is not lost on me that blueberries feature at the core of the frustration of a few weeks ago rising up as the resolution to my rut then and this week as the source of my frustration. Their sapphire like spherical form are one of nature’s cleverest creations. Rich deep hues, sweet almost lolly like flavour reminiscent of blue heaven milkshakes and crowned with a flower like window where the bud has bloomed into berry. Likewise their delicateness is frustrating farmers at the moment as their buds soak up the relentless rain. Though they remind me of giant cabochon gems they’re not quite as tough. A reminder that whilst eating seasonally can be fraught with the fragility of being at the mercy of nature.

They require a gentle touch in cooking. My first attempt at this tart was laden with fruit it’s flesh collapsing to a jamlike puddle in the centre. Whilst this sounded like a good idea it’s ooze moistened the frangipane hampering it’s setting. Much googling and a few tweaks and we have a moist set frangipane, or almond cream as it’s also known. I’ve also used rye flour in the pastry to add a delicate nuttiness to the flavour of a short crisp casing. While the blueberries are indeed flavoursome at the moment, they can always be enhanced. The marriage of blueberries and rye had a Nordic air about it which led me to lace the frangipane with cardamon and lemon zest, creating an almost citrusy fragrant freshness.

You can enjoy still warm with a lovely vanilla ice cream, drizzled with a thin stream of lemon ice swished all around like ribbons or plain with cream, my favourite.

Ingredients:

Pastry:

120 gm plain flour

80 gm rye flour

20 gm caster sugar

100 gm cold unsalted butter, cubed

60 gm sour cream

1 tsp vanilla paste or extract

1 egg yolk

Pinch of salt

Frangipane:

80 gm butter softened

125 gm caster sugar

Finely grated rind of 1 lemon

½ tsp of ground cardamon

1 egg beaten

1 tsp vanilla

125 gm of ground almond/almond flour

30 gm plain flour

Pinch of salt flakes

200 gm fresh blueberries

1 egg extra beaten with a splash of milk for pastry glazing

1 tsp demerara sugar

Method:

Pastry

In a food processor or blender combine flours and butter and pulse on high until combined looking like breadcrumbs, some lumps are find. Beat together sour cream, egg yolk, vanilla and salt and add to food processor/blender. Pulse again until just combined. Tip it all out onto floured bench and bring together with your hands. Need briefly until just smooth and form into a thick disc. Wrap in cling wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour.

When ready roll out to a round sheet roughly 30 cms round, this should be roughly 3-4 mm thick. Gently lift using the rolling pin and lower onto a tray lined with baking paper, set aside.

Frangipane/Almond Cream

In a stand mixer beat the butter on med-high on it’s own until lighter in colour and starting to turn fluffy. Add the sugar, vanilla, lemon rind and cardamon and cream together until light and fluffy again. Add egg and beat until it resembles custard. Remove the bowl from the mixer and gently fold in the flour and almond.

Spread the Almond cream mixture over pastry in a circle roughly 2-3 cms from the edge of the pastry disc. Evenly sprinkle blueberries over the cream and fold edges up as pictured.

Brush pastry edges with egg wash and sprinkle with demerara sugar.

Bake 45-50 minutes checking half way through cooking time.

Apple Crumble

The door shuts with a thunk, voices waft up through the window on a soft summer breeze from the driveway like birdsong and the baby gurgles in my arms. My Nana alights from my parents’ car, small box in her arms brushing off offers of assistance from my parents. I hear her uneven footsteps approaching the front door the legacy of childhood polio and her happy chatter, coming to spend time with her great grandson a much-anticipated treat and an opportunity to show her love. Even in her eighties she remembers those first days and weeks of parenthood. The pea soup fog of joy, exhaustion and elation are never too far back in the recesses of a mother’s memory. I open the door, babe in arms to her gentle loving smile and box of goodies is offered forth. She crosses the threshold proudly carrying her offerings through to the kitchen unpacking and explaining without skipping a beat. She’s brought us a sheet of Cornish pastie, a recipe passed down from my Cornish great grandmother, my favourite slice for a treat with coffee and a tray or apple crumble. She knows apple deserts are my favourite, this one whipped up in lieu of the apple pie she knows I love, her arthritic hands too frail to work the pastry. I’m flooded with relief knowing dinner is sorted, my heart swollen with love for this beautiful humble woman. She never took a compliment batting them away with shyness and modesty. Her humble nature content to know she’d showed her love for us and made a few nights easier on us we settle in for a visit and cuddles with our new babe and making memories with two lives who, unbeknownst to us, would only enjoy each other’s company for the brief crossover of time in which they both shared the world before she passed.

This is the first memory that always comes front of my mind when I scoop a spoonful of apple crumble into my mouth. One of the first I reflect on when I think about my Nana. It typifies her spirit and reminds me how loved we were. She was a woman of few words not especially effusive, though she loved a chat she relied on actions to show her love and food was top of her list.

When I savour a mouthful of my apple crumble the golden sweet crunch in the topping with a hint of a salty foil melts in the mouth amongst the oozy soft apple bed on which it floats. The additions amongst that apple compote are not entirely those of my nana’s but I think shed approve. Butter, sugar and Calvados blend to create a not too sweet caramel threading it’s way through the soft apple slices and bubbling up through the crumble topping. Strictly speaking this is a little off script from the traditional one of my childhood but I think Nana would approve. Also controversial is the absence of oats. I’m not sure why our family’s crumble didn’t have but as a result crumble with oats has never been my preference.

The addition of Clavados is my modern twist not something you’d have seen in the kitchen of traditional country cooks of old. If you want to omit the booze just substitute with apple juice or for a little tang, lemon juice.

Ingredients:

140 gm Plain flour

100 gm brown sugar

2 tbs desiccated coconut

½ tsp salt flakes

125 gm butter cold and cubed

1 tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp all spice

¼ tsp ground ginger

5 cooking apples peeled, quartered and sliced

30 gm butter extra

2 tbs Calvados

2 tbs caster sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1 tb demerara sugar

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Combine, flour, sugar, coconut and salt. Toss through butter cubes and rub through until the mixture is like damp clumpy sand. Set aside.

Peel, core and slice apples and place in large bowl. Pour calvados, sprinkle over sugar and combine vanilla extract. Toss this all together and pour into a well greased ceramic or glass ovenproof dish. Pinch off pieces of the remaining butter dotting over the apple slices. Sprinkle over crumble topping mixture crumbling with your fingers as you scatter it over. Don’t worry if there are gaps as this allows the juices to bubble up in between.

Pop in the oven for 45 minutes uncovered baking until golden brown and oozy at the edges.

Allow to cool slightly before serving as the syrup that forms during cooking can be very hot. Serve with custard and or cream. My husband like his with ice cream, I forgive him this transgression, so long as it’s good vanilla ice cream. My boys and I prefer custard of the homemade variety. The below is my go-to custard recipe, perfect every time and never fails. It’s delicious for a few days stored in a sealed container or jar in the fridge if it lasts that long.

Shared with the generous permission from Sophie Hansen from her second book A Basket by the Door.

Combine 1 ¼ C each of milk and cream in a saucepan with a halved and scraped vanilla bean and it’s seeds over medium heat. Warm until almost boiling. Remove from heat and allow to cool a little. Whisk together 1/3 c Caster sugar with 1 Tbs caster sugar and 6 egg yolks until pale and creamy (freeze the left over whites for a pavlova another day). Splash some of the warm milk/cream mixture into the egg mixture and mix until well combine then slowly our in the remaining while whisking until well combined. Return to the saucepan and stir over low heat until thickened and coating the back of wooden spoon, about five minutes.

If you’ve bought a bottle of calvados to try in this recipe and aren’t sure what to do with it you might like to try some of these, you can thank me later.