Hello from NL 29. This is Bake Sense, the somewhat ordered record of ramblings that concern the world of baking, from championing flavour and wholesome ingredients to questioning where those ingredients come from and how we can make the most of them. Along the way, you’ll find recipes and insights from life in and out of the professional bakery and plenty of fruitful chat.
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Some semblance of summer weather has made a return to this island. It is fickle, indecisive, under and overwhelming in the same breath. Grey sky and a downpour one moment, sunshine and sleeveless the next.
The one dependable thing right now is that each week will bear fruit in some form of glut or another. Fig season has been a solid 8/10 on the dependability scale, and that alone is enough to make my summer a good one.
Black figs have been especially bountiful, arriving flat-bottomed and heavy, their strawberry pink flesh barely held in by thin cloaks of deep purple-black skin. They’re crying from the moment they arrive, juice seeping from the base just as Edward Bunyard describes they should be… “…ready for gathering when a drop of nectar appears at the eye”.
They are perishable beyond belief, and within hours some will collapse at the slightest touch, sides splitting, spilling their guts. Others are taken over by superficial surface mould that is off-putting to many but does not indicate that the fruit is rotten, just a plea to be immediately rescued, eaten, used and devoured. The crying figs that don’t directly make it from hand to mouth are destined for the jam pan, where they can be saved for enjoyment at another time.
Fig, Plum & Redcurrant Jam.
It feels like a luxury to jam figs alone as a solo fruit jam; they’re pricey little things. With my sensible business hat on, it's not a viable option by the time you factor in the cost of the jam jars and the energy to get the jam pan going (the cost of which could make anything cry). Thankfully this year, the figs have been so rich and intensely flavoured that they’re more than able to share a jar with their contemporaries. Plums and red currants make excellent roommates, bringing body and balance through pectin and acidity.
Makes 7 x 200g Jars
680g figs (chopped, if not already collapsed)
410g plums, halved (weight after removing stone)
300g redcurrants (fresh or frozen) + 60ml water
695g sugar
98g lemon juice
flaky sea salt to season
Method
Combine the redcurrants and water in a small saucepan, place over medium heat and cook until the red currants begin to soften and burst; bring to a boil for 1-2 minutes to thicken the mixture slightly. Remove from the heat and pass through a food mill to extract the pectin-rich pulp.
Combine the figs, plums and red currant pulp in a jam pan, add the sugar, and place over medium heat; stir to dissolve the sugar; the mixture will look syrupy and very glossy. Add the lemon juice and when you are sure every crystal of sugar has dissolved, increase the heat and bring the mixture to a boil. Cook for 8 minutes, stirring the pot frequently to avoid scorching on the bottom of the pan.
NOTE: I like to jam the Hot and Fast way. The aim is to get the jam to a set in the quickest time over the hottest heat possible to preserve as much flavour and colour as possible and avoid using too much sugar. It’s a live by the sword, die by the sword kind of strategy, and yes, I have lost skin on my upper eyelids as a result. Take care; the jam is likely to spit; use the longest spatula you have, don’t wear your favourite white shirt, and if it gets too fierce, turn the heat down…safety first.
After 8 minutes, turn the heat off and test the jam set by placing a little on a spoon or saucer and placing it in the freezer. You might even be able to tell from how the jam clings to the spatula or edge of the pan if it’s ready. Once the surface begins to wrinkle when gently nudged, you’re all set…literally.
Season with some flaky sea salt and pour immediately into warm sterilised jars. Seal and allow to cool. Store it in a cool dark place where it should last unopened for up to 4 months. Once open, store in the fridge.
Elsewhere the overtly ripe, intensely sweet fruit and the sticky hot jamming has been balanced with cool, calm canning exploits. The pickling cucumbers arrived, and because I have no restraint, I bought 5 kilos and set about turning them into salty, savoury shelf-stable goods for the months to come.
Next week I’ll be tackling the bilberries, the blackberries, the plums and the first cooking apples, which have arrived in boxes, crates and baskets, either at my home or at the bakery, gifted by those that have too many or those kind enough to know I’d happily take and enjoy them. What’s superabundant or missing from the summer bounty where you are right now? Let me know in the comments.