Getting Saucy: My Go-To Technique for Seasonal Fruit Sauces
Finger Lakes Fruit, Caramelizing Sugar, What’s the Difference Between Jam, Compote, and Sauce? Catch Me at these Upcoming (Virtual) Events
Welcome to Issue 8 of Kitchen Sense. Thanks for signing up. I hope that you are enjoying reading these recipes and other tidbits as much as I’m enjoying writing them. The real proof is in the pudding (hmn…maybe a subject for a future issue), by which I mean that I’ll consider this whole project a success if I inspire folks to get into the kitchen to cook. If you are already cooking, I want to make you think about the practice of cooking in a different way. I believe there is something special that happens in the kitchen, once you overcome any anxiety or sense that cooking is a chore. Cooking and feeding people gives a unique type of understanding about food that I believe not only makes you a better eater, but also maybe a better human.
Fruit season is in full swing in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York, where Nate, Milo, and I have rented a house for a few months on Cayuga Lake. Honor-system farm stands at the side of the road (which now take Venmo!) reveal what’s ready for picking. First came rhubarb. Then strawberries. Now cherries of all colors—yellow, bright red, dark red, sweet and sour. It’s as though the farmers are begging you to take them away. Yesterday our favorite stand up the road from us on Route 89, Flying Pigs Farm, offered four quarts of plump, sweet black cherries for $20.
Last Friday evening Nate and I drove to Indian Creek Farm, a beautiful pick-your-own place about 5 minutes from our lakehouse rental. We arrived around 6 pm, cocktail time, and by 7 pm we had three quarts of amazing raspberries in our hands. We ate fresh cider donuts with handfuls of raspberries straight from the bushes (ssshhhh) as the sun set over the farm. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday evening. The messy bars full of messy people in our Manhattan neighborhood couldn’t have been any farther away. In two weeks peaches will be ready to pick. We’ll be back.
I love fresh fruit. I love fruit pies, tarts, cakes, you name it. I love making jam so I can enjoy seasonal fruit all year long. I like fruit in salads and fruit salad—the former savory, the latter sweet. I should qualify that I love good fruit. Just because fruit is in season or local doesn’t mean it’s good. Variety is important in determining the characteristics and quality of the fruit grown. Care and handling, on the farm and throughout distribution, also play a big part. When I bite into an insipid piece of watermelon or a mealy apple I understand why some people don’t like fruit. But when I bite into something ripe, sweet, juicy, and delicious, I don’t know how anyone can resist. Often, in the thrill of the moment, I buy more fruit than two people can consume or I can process before it goes bad, especially at times like this, high season. And I hate wasting, as you know.
When I have a lot of fruit at my disposal, one thing I find myself doing repeatedly is making a sort of quick fruit sauce or compote—I don’t know what the difference is, really #semantics. You could even call it a quick jam, I guess. I always use the same technique (never a recipe) of caramelizing sugar until dark and then adding the fruit to cook until it softens and gives off some of its juice. Once it thickens slightly, it’s done. The result tastes of the fruit itself with just the faintest hint of bitterness from the caramel that balances the sweetness #imho. Sometimes I add some flavoring, a little orange or lemon juice and/or zest along with the fruit, or some vanilla or almond extract, a pinch of cinnamon or allspice, a dot of butter, maybe some cream, at the end. Depends on my mood. But it really needs nothing else.
In the fall, I do the same thing with apples, peeled and sliced, which take a little longer to soften than berries or rhubarb. For apples, sometimes I like to stir in a little heavy cream and a pinch each of cinnamon and nutmeg at the end. I let the whole thing come to a boil to reduce slightly before taking it off the heat.
It has been a good season for fruit so far this year in the Finger Lakes, but the area has been hit hard with rain the last few days, so I wonder what that will mean going forward. While half the country is experiencing drought, there are no signs of our deluge stopping. Cayuga Lake is big, some 40 miles long, 2 miles wide, and 400 feet deep, and it already looks swollen. I’ve heard the local wheat crop is likely ruined. I wonder how the wine grapes will fare.
This caramel-sauce technique works equally well with frozen fruit, too. No need to defrost. I almost always have a bag of wild blueberries from Trader Joe’s in my freezer and they are perfect for this treatment. Other berries, too. Also sliced peaches.
As I said above, I don’t ever use a recipe when I make this kind of fruit sauce, but I’ve been measuring things lately so that I could give you an accurate framework to start. Use it as a guideline and play with it as you wish.
A Note About Caramelizing Sugar
I know from having taught many cooking classes that home cooks and bakers, even experienced ones, can be intimidated by the idea of caramelizing sugar. I understand why. It gets hot like molten lava and can go from caramel to scorched in a split second. But once you get over the fear, it couldn’t be simpler. And the nice thing about using caramel in a sauce like this—rather than in a pure form for sugar work, for example—is that it doesn’t have to be perfectly evenly colored or otherwise precise. Also, you have the control because you can stop the cooking immediately as soon as you add the fruit.
But you have to be ready to work quickly. So have your fruit ready. Use a heavy, nonstick pan if you have it (but nonstick isn’t necessary). Have a heat-proof stirring implement nearby (I prefer wooden spoons as metal ones get too hot to handle). And don’t be on the phone or otherwise distracted.
Note that you can caramelize sugar without the addition of water—which is how we did it in some professional kitchens I worked in. But the water buys you some time and smooths out the process somewhat. Ultimately, all of the water will evaporate before the sugar begins to caramelize. As soon as you start to see the bubbles darkening around the edges, don’t let it leave you sight. Swirl the pan to even the caramelization and continue watching until ready. Once the fruit is in, you can go about your business.
RECIPE: Caramelized Fruit Sauce
Makes about 1 cup of sauce
¼ to ⅓ cup granulated sugar, depending on the sweetness of the fruit you are using
About 2 tablespoons water
1 ½ cups fresh or frozen fruit, such as blueberries, raspberries, sliced strawberries, thickly sliced rhubarb, pitted cherries, sliced peaches, sliced apricots, sliced apples, quartered figs, or what have you
Flavoring (optional), such as, ¼ teaspoon vanilla extract, 2 drops almond extract, pinch cinnamon, pinch ground allspice, pinch ground nutmeg, teaspoon lemon or orange zest, squirt lemon or orange juice
Place the sugar and water in a small, heavy frying pan, nonstick if you have it (but not necessary). Set over high heat and bring to a boil, swirling the pan to dissolve the sugar. Have your fruit and a wooden spoon or other heat-proof stirring device nearby.
Once the sugar begins to boil, lower the heat slightly to medium-high, and let it boil away. The size and speed of dissipation of the bubbles will tell you that things the sugar is progressing toward caramelization. The bubbles start out small and fast and get bigger and slower as the sugar melts and begins to change. Swirl the pan from time to time to move the syrup from the edges into the center of the pan. When the bubbles are at their biggest and laziest, start paying close attention to the edges of the syrup. This is where the color will begin to darken. Once you see some browning, swirl the pan to distribute and keep watching. The color will darken quickly. You will likely see some smoke, which is okay; keep your eye on the darkening sugar syrup, swirling until you have an even, dark caramel color. The whole process should take about 10 minutes, depending on how hot your burner is.
Immediately add the fruit all at once and stir to coat. If using lemon or orange zest and/or juice as a flavoring, add it/them now. The addition of the fruit will stop the caramelization, but the shock of the cold fruit will cause the caramel to seize and the sauce to clump. Caramel will stick to your spoon. Don’t worry. Keep stirring. As the sauce continues to heat the caramel will melt again, the fruit will soften and give off some of its juice, and everything will return to a liquid state. (You may still have some caramel stuck to your spoon; keep it in the pan to melt.) If very liquid, continue to let the sauce simmer until some of the liquid has evaporated and the sauce thickens. Not that it will thicken considerably when cool, so don’t go overboard. Also, I prefer to have the sauce chunky, with bigger pieces of fruit or berries, so don’t over manipulate it to mush.
Remove from the heat. If using other flavorings, stir them in now. Transfer to a serving bowl or storage container to use in any of the ways described below, or invent your own.
Flavor Combinations I Have Liked
Cherries with vanilla or almond extract
Apricots with vanilla or almond extract
Apples with cinnamon and/or nutmeg (tastes like apple pie)
Peaches with slivers of fresh mint or basil
Blueberries or raspberries with lavender
Figs with cinnamon and whiskey
Rhubarb with orange and vanilla
Now, What Do I Do With This?
You can use this caramelized fruit sauce in more places than you’d think. Warm, of course, it’s great spooned over ice cream and/or on slices of cake (see composite photo above). Made with berries, straw-, rasp-, or blue-, the sauce is a great flavor booster for shortcakes; spread it on the biscuit layer before adding fresh berries and whipped cream. Chilled, it’s great stirred into plain yogurt or layered in a granola parfait. We spoon it on buttered toast with fresh ricotta for breakfast tartines. I’ve spooned it over custard tarts and lemon tarts as a topping. It’s great on cheesecake, too. In a pinch, you can use it as jam, though it’s a little looser than you might like for buttered toast. A spoonful in a vinaigrette can be transformative. Stored it in a tightly sealed jar in the fridge and it will last for weeks.
NEWS: Upcoming Appearances
I thought I’d take a moment to share some details about two upcoming talks I’m participating in, both of which I know will be really interesting. FYI, you can always keep tabs on my appearances and also listen/watch previous engagements that are recorded on my website kitchensense.xyz.
July 19, 2021—11 am ET
Food Identity & Preserving Cultural Heritage
The Chicago Council on Global Affairs
I’m moderating this sure-to-be fascinating Chicago Council panel on food, identity and cultural heritage and their relationship to food policy with Mexican chef Mercedes Bernal, South African chef Coco Reinharz & food-policy advocate Paul Newnham of the SDG2 Advocacy Hub and Chefs’ Manifesto. The context for this conversation is the upcoming UN Food Systems Summit and UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage program. Registration is free, but required.
July 20, 2021—6 pm ET
James Beard’s Slice of the Village
Village Preservation
I’m equally excited for this Village Preservation panel on the Greenwich Village life of James Beard. Join Beard biographer John Birdsall, Beard friend and author Irene Sax, historian Annie Hauck-Lawson, and me, for what’s sure to be a rich conversation. He was quite a character! Registration for this talk is also free, but required.
Hope you can tune in. If not, I’ll link to recordings of the talks on my website when they are available.