I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
I’m repeating myself from almost exactly one year ago. Last October, I made a pumpkin flan, and this year, I’ve made one with persimmons. It couldn’t be helped. There was a big table of persimmons at the farmers’ market, and I had to bring some home. Then, I found this recipe for persimmon flan in Potager which is a book devoted to cooking seasonally. I think of flan in the same way I think of souffles. They both seem a little daunting because it seems like things could go horribly wrong, but in the end, they’re actually very easy and almost never fail.
The persimmons were peeled, seeded, chopped, and briefly cooked before being pureed. The puree was pushed through a strainer to make it very smooth. Although the recipe was very straightforward in that just plain persimmon puree was to be added, I had to introduce a little something extra. To the puree, I added a pinch or two of nutmeg and cinnamon. As usual for flan, sugar was caramelized in a small cake pan and then set aside. The custard was made from six eggs, milk, cream, sugar, vanilla, and a bit of salt. The persimmon puree was stirred into the custard, and the custard was poured onto the caramelized sugar in the cake pan. It was baked at 325 degrees F in a bain-marie with water coming halfway up the side of the cake pan. The recipe noted it should bake for about 45 minutes, but mine required a few more minutes before it was set in the middle.
The flan was removed from the roasting pan with water and left to cool on a rack, and then it was unmolded onto a plate. That’s the scary part, but just like last time, it popped out without any problems. The remaining caramel in the pan was then pooled onto the inverted flan. I have to admit the caramel is the real reason I like flan so much, but the custard was delicious too. The persimmon flavor was mild, but by adding fruit, the custard is prevented from tasting too much of egg. Next time, I might add a larger pinch of cinnamon, but I’m not complaining about the results here at all. I should really consider making flan more often than once each October, but at this rate, it has been a special, appreciated dessert each time.
I know how this looks. I really do. I hesitated to even post this at all, but I went for it in honor of Earth Day for lack of a better reason. Yes, that is a bowl of green goo. It’s something you might find on the Land of the Lost studio floor after a Sleestak scene. Did you know the movie version is coming out in June? I just discovered that fact as I looked for a link to explain Sleestak, and now I can’t wait for June. So, let me explain this soup. We’ve been getting some fresh and gorgeous spring greens from our Hands of the Earth CSA, and yesterday was a pick up day, and I found this recipe, and it sounded good to me. HOE has grown some really beautiful beets, and they deliver them with their perfect greens intact. I’m not sure that beet greens get used very often. Beets sold in grocery stores often have the greens removed, or they’re a little dried out and less than appetizing. Yesterday, Earth Day, the beet greens were pristine, so I cut them off to use them and saved the beets for later. We also received some braising greens including little collard and kale leaves. I was thrilled to use every bit of what we received as best we could, and the trimmings went into the compost as usual. And, that is how to throw an Earth Day party: eat all your greens and make compost.
If I haven’t driven you off yet, let me mention the book in which I found this soup. It’s from Potager: Fresh Garden Cooking in the French Style. Potager, or kitchen garden, cooking is necessarily seasonal. The author, Georgeanne Brennan, founded Le Marche which is a seed company specializing in unusual vegetables. This book encourages home gardening or finding fresh, local ingredients. The book is sectioned according to season and offers a range of simple but interesting dishes. There’s a savory bread pudding with asparagus and fontina that I have bookmarked, and for summer, rosemary pizzas and charred eggplant sandwiches with aioli sound amazing. This soup was very easy to prepare, and I hope I can convince you to consider trying it. Two pounds of greens were cleaned and roughly chopped and then sauteed with onion in olive oil. Once the greens were limp, they were added with their juices to a blender pitcher with a half cup of vegetable broth. This was pureed and returned to a large saucepan. An additional cup and a half of broth was stirred into the puree. Meanwhile, store-bought gnocchi were boiled separately. To serve, ladle soup into bowls, add gnocchi, top with grated pecorino and sliced prosciutto if you like.
Kurt’s bowl had some prosciutto, but I went a different way with mine. I made a quick cilantro pesto, with cilantro also from HOE, using almonds, garlic, and olive oil. I spooned a bit of this on top of the gnocchi. For both bowls, I sprinkled on some piment d’esplette for color and spice. I know you might not believe this, but it was really good. It was very fresh tasting, and the gnocchi were the perfect addition to the soup. The cheese instantly melted into the top surface, which added to the murky look, but also added a nice salty edge. Grow some greens, or find really fresh ones at a farmers’ market, and make a pureed greens soup with gnocchi because it actually is more delicious than it looks.
I’m repeating myself from almost exactly one year ago. Last October, I made a pumpkin flan, and this year, I’ve made one with persimmons. It couldn’t be helped. There was a big table of persimmons at the farmers’ market, and I had to bring some home. Then, I found this recipe for persimmon flan in Potager
which is a book devoted to cooking seasonally. I think of flan in the same way I think of souffles. They both seem a little daunting because it seems like things could go horribly wrong, but in the end, they’re actually very easy and almost never fail.
The flan was removed from the roasting pan with water and left to cool on a rack, and then it was unmolded onto a plate. That’s the scary part, but just like last time, it popped out without any problems. The remaining caramel in the pan was then pooled onto the inverted flan. I have to admit the caramel is the real reason I like flan so much, but the custard was delicious too. The persimmon flavor was mild, but by adding fruit, the custard is prevented from tasting too much of egg. Next time, I might add a larger pinch of cinnamon, but I’m not complaining about the results here at all. I should really consider making flan more often than once each October, but at this rate, it has been a special, appreciated dessert each time.
If I haven’t driven you off yet, let me mention the book in which I found this soup. It’s from 