Not a Fluke

Or The Summer of Plums.  I love stone fruit season and we are now right at the tail end of it.  Fall is officially here, but I'm holding on for a little bit longer before jumping headfirst into the season of apples, apples, apples, pomegranates, and more apples.

While I usually cannot eat enough nectarines and peaches over the Summer, this year I was a little disappointed.  There were great fruits every now and again, but only every now and again.  Plums, though?  I had days upon days filled with black plums, red plums, a pluot here and there, and even green plums.  At season's end, I'm thrilled to find Italian prune plums (also called Empress plums, though these are a little larger) in the stores and markets.  Not typically an eating plum, I personally love the slight tartness when you bite into one that's not overripe.  I love the bright citron flesh hiding underneath the silver wax bloomed dark purple skins.

This recipe won't be for everyone.  Orange blossom water lends a distinct floral (some might say, perfumey) undertone.  If you're totally against it, you could substitute a little almond flavoring, or even a touch of orange.  But...I think the orange blossom is a small enough amount that you won't feel as though you're chewing on a bouquet.  Mind you, I am the girl who loves rose-flavored candies and can happily work through a pack of Choward's violet gum in no time.

Plum and Orange Blossom Preserves
Makes about a cup

3 cups Italian/Empress plums, chopped (about 6-8)
1/2 cup turbinado sugar
1/2 cup water
1 tsp orange blossom water

In a small saucepan over medium heat, bring all ingredients to a boil, stirring occasionally.  Lower heat and cook until reduced by about a third, 20-25 minutes.  Preserves will thicken a bit.  Store in a glass jar.  This will keep for at least a week in the refrigerator.  The possibilities?  On toast.  On French toast, instead of maple syrup (same with waffles).  Mixed with plain  yogurt and topped with granola.  Topping vanilla ice cream.  Mmm hmm...

PB and PB

Peanut butter is just one of those near-perfect foods;  a fine balance of sweet and savoury.  Years and years went by when I could guarantee that the sandwich in my brown paper bag was peanut butter (creamy peanut butter, white bread, crusts okay).  I was rather the purist.  Ninety-five percent of the time it was strictly a plain peanut butter sandwich.  On occasion, I would mix it up and have peanut butter and mustard (don't judge) or if I was at home, peanut butter and banana (but it had to be on toast).  I was never a big fan of jelly and would only have it on toast with butter.

Tastes change over the years.  I appreciate the joys of jam these days, especially the homemade variety.  And while for the most part I still prefer my peanut butter solo, peanut butter with jam is a welcome addition.  I gave up on the peanut butter and mustard long ago.  Over the past year, I've made a fair share of jams, marmalades, and preserves.  Strawberries, raspberries, plums, peaches, and oranges have found their way to the stovetop with some sugar and water.

Three very ripe Bartlett pears in the fruit bowl inspired me to make pear butter.  A cursory look online gave me the basics and from there, my version of pear butter was born.  I like that you have a little extra leeway in the spices department here.  Fruit butters have a warmth to them, which is probably why I've associated them with Autumn.  I think that's about to change.

Of course, I paired my pear butter with peanut butter.  I can easily see myself breaking the 'peanut butter only' toast habit I have with this stuff around.  It's also fantastic swirled in plain yogurt and topped with granola.

Pear Butter
(Adapted from a recipe on Allrecipes.com)
Makes roughly 1 1/2 cups

3 large Bartlett pears, cored and cubed
1/2 cup water
1/2 teaspoon orange zest
Juice from one orange
4 cloves
1 teaspoon five spice powder
1/2 cup turbinado sugar

In a medium saucepan, add pears, water, orange zest, cloves, and orange juice.  Bring to a low boil and let pears soften and cook, about 12-15 minutes.  Place a fine mesh strainer over a mixing bowl and pour  the pears into the strainer.  Stir and puree and push through the strainer.  Remove the cloves and any larger pieces of pear skin.  Return the puree and strained juice back to the saucepan.  With the pan over low heat, add the sugar and five spice powder.  Stir to mix ingredients.  Stir occasionally so fruit doesn't burn on the bottom of the pan.  Cook on a low simmer for 20 minutes or until sugar dissolves and puree starts to thicken.  

Remove from heat and store in a container in refrigerator.  

Sharing Secrets

I've worked in retail for more years than I care to admit to.   One of the skills you need to work in retail is the ability to talk to people, all kinds of people; to be able to talk about what you're selling, to make your goods or your products appealing to the customers that walk in your store.  Like a carnival hawker.  Bring them over the threshold, hook them in, and make them spend money.   I like to think I can start a conversation with anyone.  In that environment, I'm not too bad.   But on a day to day basis, more times than not, (the self-perceived) socially awkward me makes her appearance.  

When I go out, I put my blinders on.  I do a lot of things on my own, whether it's grocery shopping, running errands, or going to events in and around Los Angeles.  It's me and the thoughts in my head.  I'm surprised (and a little freaked out) when someone talks to me (other than say, a clerk).  I was at Sprouts the other night to pick up a few things, including some apricots.  I had visions of apricot jam in my head after finishing up a jar a couple of weeks ago.  I headed over to the large bin in the center of the produce department, bag in hand, when I see an older woman, maybe in her late 60's, slowly approaching the same bin.  I thought about holding back until she was finished, but I was in one of those moods where I just wanted to get what I needed and head back home.  It was a big enough space to share, so I grabbed a bag, staked a spot to the right of her, and went apricot hunting.  She turned to me and in a kind, heavily accented voice said, 'Look for this colour, they're better,' as she's holding a fruit with that beautiful deep blush on one side.  I smiled and nodded.  (The uncomfortable feeling beginning, my mind screaming, 'She's talking to you!')  She told me that she was going to make jam because her daughter-in-law liked it so much, she all the jam the woman had made.  I told her I was going to make jam too.  She said, 'What do you use?  I put in lemon juice.'  I said, 'I use orange juice.'  And there it was:  we had bonded, even if only for a few seconds, over kitchen secrets.  

Having picked the fruit I needed, I smiled and went off to finish my shopping.  No more than 3-4 minutes had passed;  I headed to the check-out, swinging back through the produce section, and she was still there picking apricots.  The bag she had was close to bursting with the amount of fruit she had in it.  I could have kept on walking since she hadn't seen me, but I rolled my cart close to hers and said, 'That's going to make a lot of jam.'  She said she needed enough apricots to make 3 batches.  And she smiled at me.  I smiled back and it didn't feel that awkward anymore.

Apricot-Blood Orange Jam

Adapted from The Sprouted Kitchen's 'Quick Apricot Jam'

(Makes about 2 cups)

8-10 apricots, quartered and pitted

1/2 cup blood orange juice

3/4 cup turbinado sugar

Combine ingredients into a medium sized saucepan over medium high heat.  Stir frequently to mix everything together.  Cook over medium high heat for about 10 minutes.  The fruit will begin to break down.  I like to mash the fruit further while it's cooking with the back of a fork.  Take the heat down to a simmer and let cook further, about 15-20 minutes.  

Take off heat, mix well and allow to cool.  Transfer to jar or bowl, cover and refrigerate.  Should last at least a week, if not a little longer.  

Note:  Turbinado sugar is my latest fascination.  Feel free to use regular sugar or pure cane sugar, and adjust to your taste.  This probably turned out more like the consistency of a very chunky, more on the syrupy side jam, but I have no complaints.  I can (and do) eat it with a spoon, it's also temporarily replaced my daily morning avocado toast.