Currently fruity
IT is very odd. I’m writing this piece for you beneath yet another in a long line of cloudless, warm days. What a summer we’re having so far – I can barely remember the last day it rained.
This of course means plenty of wandering round the garden with a hose, but that’s a small price to pay for beautiful weather like this.
It’s absolutely glorious. And the garden is happy, too, providing we hold up our end of the deal and keep everything well fed and frequently doused.
I noticed the other day that it won’t be long before the blackcurrants will be ready to pick, and for me this is the highlight of the year when it comes to our little fruit patch.
Blackcurrants are, in my opinion, by far the best fruit there is. Sure, I love many others, like rhubarb, raspberries and apricots, and there aren’t many fruits I’d actively avoid, but whenever I see something blackcurrant-y, I pounce. It must be all that Ribena I drank as a child.
For me, the blackcurrant ticks all the boxes. First, there’s the scent; even just clasping the green leaves that shelter the currants releases an incredible waft of fresh, fragrant air.
Eaten raw, they’re almost too tart to manage, but a few, halved and strewn over a dish of grilled fish, or roasted poultry, will add a zing of fresh flavour.
A few raw blackcurrants really add zip to an Eton Mess, and their colour and fragrance are, of course, essential in a classic summer pudding.
It is when one cooks a blackcurrant, though, that the magic happens. Nothing more than a splash of water and a pinch of caster sugar, plus the application of oh-so-gentle heat, encourages the blackcurrant to gently pop and release its wonderful juice.
A deep amethyst colour, and with a flavour that’s at once super-sharp and sugar-sweet, there’s nothing like a sweet compote of blackcurrants.
As it is right there in the pan, it’s perfection, but then one thinks of the wonders it can perform.
It can replace the strawberry jam in a Victoria sponge-type cake. It can be spooned over good vanilla ice-cream.
You can warm it gently and decadently dip madeleines into it. It would love to sit alongside a good custard tart, or a classic French tarte au citron, or huddled up to a creamy, cool panna cotta.
Once you have your gently-cooked blackcurrants, the world’s your oyster.
Another ingredient that all sharp fruit seems to like being with is frangipane.
There’s something really great about the combination of tart fruit and that sweet, fluffy almond paste, and with this in mind, I came up with a lovely simple recipe for a croustade of blackcurrants.
A croustade is a great way of using up fruit, and it’s far less fiddly than making up a tart or pie, so for warm weather it’s a boon, meaning less time in the hot kitchen.
Just make up (or even buy) some pastry, ease it into a tin, add frangipane and your fruit, glaze it and bake until golden.
Perfect with pouring cream, clotted cream, crème fraîche, custard or ice-cream. And I’m using my favourite new cream-cheese pastry here – it works wonders, tastes amazing, and is so very easy to make.