One of my first food memories is of me standing over a large pot of bubbling applesauce.  I was perched on a stool in my Aunt Vicki’s kitchen, my nose hovering as close as possible to soak up the amazing smell.  I don’t remember much else other than that snapshot, but I have never forgotten the intoxicating aroma.  Aunt Vicki and I were making homemade applesauce – yes, I said making.  (As far as I was concerned, applesauce grew in jars.)  Whenever I smell baking apples to this day, I am immediately reminded of that afternoon.  It was about twenty years later until I had another taste of homemade applesauce, yet somehow my memory of the sweet sauce was perfectly on point.

So let’s start from the beginning: Aunt Vicki.  As the story goes, the first day my parents moved in, Vicki Giffin showed up on their doorstep with a large welcome basket filled with goodies, tea, and her lifelong friendship.  Aunt Vicki became my surrogate grandmother, seeing that mine was a long drive away.  Some of my first childhood memories are of Aunt Vicki.  A woman way ahead of her time, Vicki was a vegetarian nurse who taught yoga (and yes, this was the early 80s).  She was famous for all sorts of kooky things, ranging from setting her lamppost on fire one Halloween (she made a “ghost” out a sheet – however did not account for the flammability of said sheet) to spending ungodly amounts of money to save a tree in her backyard that was in the way of an impending addition (by the way, the addition was a jacuzzi room).  She had a working slot machine in her living room, an ancient rake hanging on the family room wall, and every toy imaginable in her basement.  She was one of the coolest people I have ever known.  Along with all these quirks, Vicki had the largest heart.  She was kind, genuine, and loving.  Unfortunately, Vicki’s life was cut short by a very rare form of brain cancer.  While she is no longer with us, her memories live on in all those she touched.  I smile and think of her every time I make my own sauce. (more…)

As the summer winds down, I thought I would sneak one more berry dessert into the mix.  Although peak raspberry season is over, you can still find acceptable berries at your grocery store.  This tart is the epitome of simple: a graham cracker crust, a sweet and creamy filling, topped with fresh berries.  I can’t imagine anyone not liking this combination.  The dessert highlights the berries by creating a subtle contrast in flavor and texture in both the crust and filling, but does not over power the delicate raspberries themselves.  The tang of the berries are complimented nicely by the tang of the sour cream filling.  Similar to a no-bake cheesecake recipe, the filling is a simple combination of cream cheese, sour cream, and sugar.   By including the sour cream, it not only adds an extra layer of flavor, but also softens the filling and keeps the dessert on the lighter side. (more…)

As promised, although slightly late, here is one option for using all of those perfectly ripe summer strawberries.  These fresh strawberry cupcakes certainly let the sweetness of the strawberry shine.  I used white cake and filled the cupcakes with berries marinated in sugar, grand marnier, mint and orange zest.  Surprisingly so, these additions really help to make the flavor of the berry pop and add some depth to the overall taste.  To top the cupcakes, I made a fresh strawberry buttercream.  Using my traditional Italian Buttercream recipe (post to come soon), I added fresh, mashed strawberries.  The juices from the mashing helped to not only flavor but also color the buttercream a perfectly pale pink.  I purposely mashed the berries instead of pureeing them because I also wanted small pieces of the strawberry throughout the buttercream.  If you are going to go to all the trouble of making fresh strawberry buttercream, you may as well show it off, right?  To finish up, I adorned each cupcake with a small perfect berry (stems attached, for that just from the farm look) and there you have it.

Recipe: Fresh Strawberry Cupcakes

Cherimoya Fruit

I was walking through the produce section yesterday and came across this very awkward looking fruit.  Turns out it was a Cherimoya.  Luckily, for non-Cherimoya buying consumers as myself, the fruit was labeled with a nice and tidy sign explaining its characteristics.  Whole Foods had the fruit labeled tropical,  with a flavor combination of banana, pineapple, and pear.  I thought I would give it a try – why not?

The Cherimoya is an oblong-ish fruit; my particular fruit happened to be heart-shaped.  About the size of a grapefruit, the cherimoya has a thin leathery skin and is ripe when it is soft to the touch (similar to judging a ripe avocado.)  The fruit has a creamy white flesh and large seeds, which are easy to remove. Cherimoyas are native to the highlands of Ecuador and Peru and grow on a shurb/small tree.

Inside a Cherimoya

So now to the taste….  I admit that I had high hopes, but unfortunately the Cherimoya is not for us (Scott and I, that is).  My first honest impression was that the fruit tasted like fake candy.  You know, a really cheap piece of candy that tries and fails miserably to recreate a certain flavor, ie a pineapple gum drop?  Anyways, that is pretty much what I get from the fruit.  The flesh is wonderfully soft – similar to a perfectly ripe pear.  Scott’s reaction (independent of mine) was that the fruit was super sweet and tasted like there was chemicals in the fruit to make it sweet.  I don’t get any specific fruit flavors (such as the suggested pineapple and banana,) but the flavor does oddly enough resemble bubble gum.

So this one was a miss for us, but fun to try nonetheless.  Next time you come across this odd-looking green grapefruit, you’ll know that it is indeed a Cherimoya and hopefully you will be brave enough to try it and create your own opinions.