With a Cherry on Top

I'm an old soul. "3 going on 30", as my mother used to say. In this, as in so many things, she's not wrong. There's something about my 30's that fits. When I hit 31, I somehow felt right in my skin. My mental age and my real age finally merged, like overlapping film negatives, suddenly schronized for a perfect technicolor image.

So how did such an old biddy find herself, this past week, giggling, 6 feet off the ground in the limbs of a cherry tree? I've been helping Mr. C in his garden - planting potatoes (ye of little faith) and learning the ropes. Spring sprung rather early in Provence this year. The lilacs were wilting by the first of May, and now the cherry trees are groaning with fruit, several weeks in advance.



G., Augustin and I went down with a cardboard fruit crate. We barely had to touch the fruit, it almost fell into our hands. Augustin giggled, and ran around our feet, picking up strays. Somewhere in the stretching, tugging, and plucking of the cherries was a childlike sensation that I can't ever remember feeling. (Not to mention the forbidden pleasure of staining a perfectly good white tee-shirt with cherry juice.)

I don't have many early childhood memories. My parents divorced when I was seven, and much of what came before is a blank. It felt strange, and strangely logical, to be collecting cherries, making new childhood memories. Maybe it's cheating, to be creating my own childhood memories at the same time as my son, but I guess Augustin won't mind me piggybacking onto his pleasure. He might even show me a thing or two.



Of course, how I have to figure out what to do with several kilos of ruby red cherries. Once again, Mr. C came to the rescue with two recipes neatly printed on an index card. The first, a clafoutis, uses the brust of fresh cherries for a hearty breakfast flan, the second was a recipe for "cherry marmalade" - cherries are too watery for jam, but this was perfect - slightly wrinkled, toothsome cherries in a velvety syrup. Mr. C does all his own canning, and he has his own method of "insta-sterilization", which involves flipping the jars and storing them upside down. As with many family recipes, the instructions were lacking a few salient details, like the fact that the cherry syrup needs to be burning hot when you're doing all this. Long story short, we will be eating cherry marmalade for breakfast lunch and dinner this month. Come to think of it. That sounds like another thing my childhood self might have dreamed of.




Mr. C's Cherry Clafoutis

This is more of a dense flan (in Brittany it's called a 'far'). Next time I might reduce the flour a bit and see what happens, but G., Breton that he is, thought it was perfect this way. The French leave the pits in their cherries when making clafoutis -they say it adds a nutty taste. Warn your guests, or be prepared to pay for the dental work.

750 grams cherries
100 grams flour (I might add a bit less)
90 grams of sugar (white or turbinado)- I might add a tablespoon of brown sugar on top next time, just before putting it in the oven
6 eggs
250 ml of whole milk
a pinch of salt
1 tbsp kirsch (cherry liquer) or rum

Preheat the oven to 375F. 190C.

Butter and sugar a ceramic tart pan , or 9x13 casserole dish.

Beat the eggs and salt together. Sift in the flour, stirring just enough to combine. Little by little, add the milk. The batter will be thin, like crepe batter.

Distribute your cherries on the bottom of your casserole dish. Carefully pour over the batter. Bake on the center rack for 30-35 minutes until custard is set in the middle. Serve warm or at room temperature, sprinkled with powdered sugar.

Personally, I love it cold for breakfast.



Mr. C's Cherry Marmalade

The canning process in this recipe is a guess, I can't speak to its success rate, as I haven't done it properly yet. What I can promise is that if you make 3 jars worth and stick it in the fridge, it will disappear pretty darn quick! Plain yogurt is your friend.

1 kilo of cherries
750 grams of sugar (I used a mix of white and turbinado)
1/2 cup of kirsch (cherry liquer), I suspect cognac might work as well...

Wash and dry 3 jam jars.

Pit the cherries and pour over the sugar and the alcohol. Stir to combine, let the mixture sit for 12 hours. In a heavy bottomed saucepan, bring the mixture to a boil, simmer for 20 minutes. Fish out the cherries, set aside. Continue to simmer the syrup for 1 hour, a bit longer won't hurt, until reduced by half.

Mr. C's canning method (once again, I can't vouch for its safety or effectiveness just yet - if you have your own reliable canning method, by all means, use that): Distribute the cherries between your clean jars. Pour over the hot cherry syrup leaving a 1/4 inch space at the top. Tighly close the jars and immediately turn them over. I imagine you'll need a good grip oven mit for this part. Let cool, wash off any stray drips, and store upside down in a cool cellar until needed.