Making Jam & The End of Summer

I've had a forced vacation from blogging due to a hard disk crash and the slow rebuilding of my computer environment and virtual existence. If you've ever been through this, you'll know how maddening it can be. Suffice it to say, I'm glad to be back.

Our summer was glorious beyond all expectations. When it was still raining at the beginning of July, I began to get a little cranky. But the sun did come out and made up for lost time. We've had long warm and sunny days for weeks on end and I have been able to get my fill of summer. Now the weather has turned a little cooler and a hint of autumn is in the air. The beginning of another season I love.

We use a lot of jam in our Bed & Breakfast business. I made some last summer, but not nearly enough to get us through the whole year. This summer I was anxious to increase my production and put away as much as possible. Crates of peaches, apricots, nectarines and strawberries decorated our kitchen counters.

There is no comparison between jam you purchase at the supermarket and that which you can make at home. I learned that last summer when I discovered a marvelous recipe for jams. It's very easy. By cutting down on the amount of sugar and following a few simple steps, you can create an incredibly tasty jam in minutes which brings the taste of the fruit forward and retains its rich, bright color. One morning when we were making breakfast for clients, we heard the sharp sound of porcelain against porcelain and could not imagine what was being eaten in the dining room, as the food had not yet been served up. We discovered that our client had taken the freshly made apricot jam and devoured it as if it were compote! In fact the taste is so delicious and fresh that it is much more like a fruit preserve than a jam. The compliments have kept coming. I highly recommend the following recipe:

Cut any kind of fresh ripe fruit into small pieces and weigh them before placing in a glass or ceramic bowl (no metal) in layers, cover the fruit with 40% sugar (by weight). I use sugar made for jellies and jams which has a bit of pectin added. When the fruit is all cut up and layered with the sugar, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and put it into the refrigerator at least over night and up to two days.

The next day, strain the juice which has formed out of the fruit, adding as much of the undissolved sugar as possible. Set the fruit aside and put the liquid on the stove in a large pot. Boil very gently watching closely, until the liquid has reached about 230°. The liquid can carmelize or boil away if it gets too hot or goes too fast.  This step usually takes about half an hour. Even if I can't get my candy thermometer to register 230°, I put my fruit in after that amount of time.

Allow the fruit to boil in the liquid until you hear the steady sound of the boiling liquid become a bit more sluggish. It needs to get a bit thick. This also takes about half an hour at a soft boil.

Voila! That's all there is to it. Place the jam in sterilized jars and seal. It will keep for a year or so. Or if you just make a small batch, you can keep it unsealed in the refrigerator for a couple of weeks. To some of the peach jam, I added a large vanilla bean. This gives a nice hint of vanilla flavor.

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Life in the garden is winding down, but the end of the summer brings some very spectacular blooms. Our multi-colored morning glory came into its own and covered part of the back wall.

The sunflower seeds sent to us by a friend in California developed into large plants each with a different happy face.

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Last week our friend Amy and her daughter Arwen came to stay at the Maison Conti for several days. We spent one day in the Loire Valley visiting several sites, including Chenonceau, undoubtedly the most beautiful of the big châteaus. The day was fine, and since we chose to go on a weekday after the kids were back in school, we didn't have a fierce crowd, as is often the case.

The interior of the castle is very attractive. There is a long history of women owning and occupying the château and therefore there is much soft charm and grace to the decoration. The gallery, with its black and white marble floors, which stretches across the river Cher, is a gorgeous room. During the war, it was a hospital for allied troops and more than a 1000 men lay on cots up and down the hallway. It seems like a very nice place to recover from the horror of battles.

Out every window are views of the river as it rolls gently beneath the building.

I have posted many photos of Chenonceau throughout the years I have been writing this blog, so I won't add too many more here. This time, however, I really focused on the flower arrangements which are among the most extravagant and beautiful I have ever seen anywhere. They grace almost every room no matter what the season.

They are not small little bouquets either, but arranged in huge pots, requiring an enormous number of fresh flowers. And of course they would have to be changed regularly to keep them looking good, which they always do.

I notice them every time I go and have often wondered who creates these luscious displays, which constantly change.

And how could they could afford so many flowers? I think there must be dozens of such bouquets throughout the house. Even if the arrangements are simple, their size is breathtaking. This is only the smallest sampling.

This year I got part of my answer. We have never before visited the little farm and garden tucked away to one side as you exit. I highly recommend it to you if you visit Chenonceau.

On the garden grounds thousands upon thousands of flowers grow on about an acre of land.

It is so pleasant to stroll through the grounds and enjoy the blossoms of many colors. In the castle kitchen was a beautiful arrangement of gourds and vegetables. There is a small edible section in the garden as well. It's hard to imagine a more wonderful job than arranging flowers for Chenonceau!

Marie-Claire's Tarte

Getting the recipe for the wonderful tarte that Marie-Claire served us at her home for tea a few weeks ago, proved to be somewhat challenging. It wasn't that the recipe is a family secret. In fact Marie-Claire was extreemly generous and even told me she was "honored" to be asked. It was simply finding a moment to be in contact with her. Her daughter, our neighbor Anne, is my go-between, and she has been out of town lately. Finally Anne asked her mother to give me a call, which Marie-Claire kindly did. She offered to give me the recipe over the phone. I dutifully got my pencil and paper, and prepared to write it all down. Of course French is still something of a struggle to my Anglo ears, and doubly so on the telephone. There's a great advantage to being face-to-face with someone when it comes to understanding what they are saying. Then there is the issue of the technical nature of a recipe and the units of measures not being the same between the U.S. and Europe. I still can't think metrically. I therefore approached the conversation with a bit of trepidation and skepticism!

I began to take down the directions as Marie-Claire gave them to me, and as I listened I put down my pencil and paper. This was another wonderful example of something I was already well aware of. French do not think of cooking and recipes as Americans do! Rick and I took a cooking class in the Dordogne a few years ago. It was absolutely wonderful and involved goose livers, duck breasts, peaches, fresh figs and a few other choice ingredients put together in remarkable ways to create a meal which we then devoured together with gusto. Danielle, our instructor, had been one of the cooks at the Elysees Palace when François Mitterand was president of France. She would demonstrate the making of a sauce, for instance and say, "you add the liquid until it is the color of light tea" and we would say "but how much is that"? Or she would say "and stir the mixture over the heat until it is the consistency of thick cream" and we would ask "but for how long"? We kept trying to get exact measures and times, where as she was trying to give us principles.

She, as most great French cooks, work intuitively. She looks, she smells, she tastes and listens. She knows how much to add and how long to cook based on how things are progressing in real time, rather than following a strict recipe. There is nothing like cup measures, or tablespoons and teaspoons available in France. You have tea cups, you have tea spoons, you have soup spoons and these are the tools you use. No one seems disturbed if my tea cup is slightly bigger or smaller than yours! You add just the right amount of each ingredient and that's that. The right amount will change from season to season, from one time to the next.

So here is the recipe as Marie-Claire explained it to me: Take 125 g of butter, just the right amount of flour and mix them together with your hands until they are in little crumbs. Add about 2 soup spoons of water until the pastry holds together. When I tried this, I used 2 cups of flour and closer to 4 tablespoons of water, but I had a certain amount of raw dough left over.

Secret # 1: throw your rolling pin away. Next she said to pat this mixture into the tarte pan with your hands, until it holds the right shape. This makes for an extremely flakey and delicious crust.

The first fruit to add are apples. Secret #2: cut the apples very thinly. This was my mother's secret for the best apple pie in the world. Most people make their apples much too chunky, and they don't cook through...Cover the bottom with one layer only. I used 3 small apples.
Next cut up seasonal fruit and arrange in pan. I used 2 nectarines, 2 yellow peaches, 2 white peaches and 4 apricots. Secret # 3: the quality of the fruit, of course, is critical to your result. If your peach isn't delicious raw, it's not going to improve in flavor when it's cooked.
  On top sprinkle as much powdered sugar as strikes your fancy. I used about a half a cup. That is simply all there is to putting this masterpiece together.
  Secret # 4; Cook it fast, in a very hot over. #9 in Europe, which has got to be about 450º at least. I was a little afraid of that, so I backed it off at first to closer to 400, but then cranked it back up when I saw that the crust wasn't browning quickly enough. Cook for half an hour at the high heat. Secre #5: Put it under the broiler for just a few seconds after cooking to seal in all those good flavors. When I was done I was very pleased to discover how beautiful the tarte looked and how wonderful the aroma was! I didn't know if it was really going to compare to Marie-Claire's, but I had the opportunity to find out, since Anne and Christine had invited us to their house for dinner. I brought it along with us. Anne was impressed with the presentation of the tarte. After she'd had the chance to taste it she was very complimentary. I had almost reproduced her mother's tarte. There was only one small fault...when Marie-Claire had said "butter" I had assumed salted butter, which was a bad assumption. She had, of course, meant sweet butter. Another cultural wire crossed. In the U.S. one would say butter and mean salted butter and "sweet butter" to make the difference. Here is it exactly the opposite. The term butter means sweet butter. Anne could notice that one additional ingredient. Marie-Claire has invited me to a cooking party at her house in September. Maybe I'll learn a few new tricks!

Recipes from Maison Conti

Carrot Soup One of our favorite ways to start a meal at Maison Conti is with warm carrot soup. I learned this recipe years ago from my friend Gillian. I've adapted it to my style of cooking and committed it to memory. It has become a classic Maison Conti offering throughout the year. 2 T butter 1 onion cut into small pieces Saute the onion in butter until the pieces are transparent but not browned. Add: 9 carrots cut in small chunks 6 cups chicken broth 1 t ground coriander Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer until the carrot morsels are tender. (About 30 minutes.) Allow the soup to cool. Blend the soup until there are no chunks left. A submersion blender is the best tool for this. Grate fresh ginger to taste (this can be anywhere between 1-3 T) and stir into the soup. Serve with a dallop of plain yogurt, sour cream or creme fraîche in the middle of the bowl and garnish with fresh ground pepper and fresh cut chives. Blueberry Pie One of the simpliest desserts we offer is an attractive variation on blueberry pie. In France we have excellent prepared pie crust dough, made with pure butter and available fresh in the dairy aisle. You can make your own, of course. Place crust in pie pan and add a few air hole in the bottom with a fork. Allow excess crust to drape over the sides while you prepare the berries. Put 3-6 cups blueberries in a bowl. Fresh are best, but frozen ones, allowed to thaw first, also work well. Add a cup of sugar and 1t nutmeg. Place berries on the raw crust and fold the excess crust over the berries. Place in a oven which has been preheated to 350º and cook until golden brown (about 40 minutes). Other types of berries can work, although they are usually more juicy so the tarte is not as firm and compact on the plate. Garnish with a dallop of ice cream or whipped cream.