Elderberry clafoutis pie

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! To our neighbors in the great white north, Happy Thanksgiving, 6 weeks late, and to our southern neighbors, feliz Día de la Revolución! Wherever you're from, I hope you're celebrating the harvest season with a sweet treat. 

Thanksgiving is one of the few occasions where I will attempt to bake. As a rule, I personally hate baking. It's more science than art--get something wrong and it generally won't work out at all, unlike cooking where almost any mistake can be mitigated, one way or another. Baking also generally involves a lot of steps, a lot of bowls, a lot of prep work, and significantly more time than cooking--all of these are things I hate. So, in our household, my husband generally does most of the baking, including all the Christmas baking of cookies, cherry coconut bars, and fudge. 

But my husband is a nurse and it's rare for him to get the entirety of Thanksgiving off.  And while Christmas baking can sort of be worked in in and around and throughout the holiday season, Thanksgiving dessert needs to be prepared on Thanksgiving Day, meaning it generally falls to me to make. I usually make a fruit cobbler or a fruit crisp, as they are easy, basically foolproof, and require some of the least prep work in the baking world. 

But for the past year, recipes for clafoutis have been popping up practically non-stop in my Pinterest feed, piquing my curiosity. 

Like a cobbler, a clafoutis involves basically 5 steps: grease a baking pan, layer in fruit, mix a bunch of things, spread on top, and bake. 

And, despite the town of McKinney clearing away much of the elderberry bushes in a part I frequent--why did they do this? They didn't replace it with anything--I still had several containers of the fruit in the freezer. So, I decided to try my hand at an elderberry clafoutis for this year's Thanksgiving. 

This recipe requires some special equipment:

• Blender
• Deep pie pan; my pan was around 1.5" deep and was barely enough. A 2" pan would be much better. 

Elderberry Clafoutis Pie 

• 2 cups fresh or frozen elderberries | If frozen, defrost and reserve the liquid
• 3 eggs
• 3/4 cup plain white flour
• 1 cup granulated sugar, divided into 3/4 and 1/4 portions* 
• 2/3 cup heavy cream or whole milk
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/4 tsp almond extract
• 1/4 tsp salt
• Butter to grease the pan

1. Preheat the oven to 325
2. Grease a deep pie pan with butter.
3. Spread your elderberries out in the greased pan. 
4. Add any reserved elderberry liquid, the eggs, the flour, the 3/4 cup of sugar, the cream or milk, vanilla, almond and salt to the blender and liquify. 
5. Pour the mixture over the top of the elderberries--slowly, if you can. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar over everything evenly.
6. Put the pan in the oven and bake for around 45 minutes until it puffs up and turns golden brown on top.

* This makes a lightly sweet clafoutis. Next time I would probably increase the sugar a little to offset the tartness of the elderberries more. I would also sprinkle the elderberries themselves with sugar in the pan. 

Right out of the oven

The result and what I would do differently next time

Elderberries float, which doesn't provide the intended 
layer effect

The elderberry clafoutis was tasty, but it did have the regular issues that any elderberry dish has, primarily being the crunchy elderberry seeds. There's no real way to work around these, unless you have a juicer and want to juice the berries first, so just be aware, your topping is going to be textural. 

The bigger issue is that I don't think that elderberries are right for a clafoutis because they are too small and too light. This means they float when you pour the liquid mixture over them. 

A clafoutis is supposed to come out as layers: crust on top, moist cake in the middle, and fruit on the bottom. But because of the floating, the finished product didn't have that layer effect. Instead, my fruit rose to the top (see pic) and became part of the crust. Still tasty, but not the intended result. 

Other than that, a great, lightly sweet dessert made with the kind of wild ingredients that would have been eaten by both the Native Americans and the early European settlers, though they likely would have been dried to make it into November. 

Mushroom candy made with foraged wood ear mushrooms

A little while ago a stumbled across multiple huge flushes of some of the most perfectly formed, perfectly fresh, perfectly "ripe" wood ear mushrooms, Auricularia angiospermarum; also called jelly ear and tree ear mushrooms. If you want to learn how to identify these mushrooms, click here. 

They were so perfect that I was immediately inspired to try something I've wanted to do for some time: Wood ear mushroom candy.

Is this not the single most perfect wood ear mushroom you've ever seen?

I've been really interested in the idea of mushroom candy since I purchased my first (and still one of my favorite) edible mushroom identification book, Edible Wild Mushrooms of North America by David W. Fischer and Alan E. Bessette. In that book the authors introduce the jellytooth (Pseudohydnum gelatinosum) and apricot jelly (Phlogiotis helvelloides) mushrooms and mentions that while they lack a lot of flavor on their own, but act as a culinary novelty that can be turned into some truly unique foods, including desserts. Alan Bessette also includes a recipe for "glazed jellytooth." This dish is clearly a dessert with sugar, fruit-flavored liqueur, berries and apples. 

Both of those mushrooms fall into the large category of "jelly fungus." These two mushrooms are fairly uncommon and, when you do find them, rarely found in any abundance. But the wood ear mushroom is quite common throughout much of the continental U.S. and is often found quite abundantly. Interestingly, despite being abundant, easy to identify and having a long history as food in multiple cultures, the wood ear mushroom isn't mentioned in the book. 

I've also seen wood ear mushrooms used in desserts from foragers on blogs and on Instagram and the Central Texas Mycological Society posted one as well. So I really wanted to try my hand at my own. 

A note on orange liquor

This recipe, as is, does include alcohol. If you want to share with children or if you don't drink alcohol you can substitute with an orange syrup, orange extract or orange juice concentrate. You can also use the orange liquor but bring it and the orange juice to a boil and simmer for a few minutes to cook off the alcohol. 

These mushrooms have only a very small amount of alcohol in them though, they don't absorb much when they reconstitute.

Another note on dried mushrooms

Before you begin the recipe, you must first boil the mushrooms for at least 2 minutes. This is because you shouldn't eat wood ear mushrooms uncooked AND boiling wild mushrooms can help with any potential parasites.

The mushrooms must already be dehydrated for this recipe. This is because wood ear mushrooms pick up the flavor of whatever they are reconstituted in, and we want to infuse the mushrooms with flavor.

If you don't have a dehydrator you can dry in the oven. For oven drying, spread out on a baking sheet and bake on the lowest temperature your oven can produce, 140-170 degrees are ideal. If your oven can't go below 200 degrees, you should keep it cracked open. Check often, flip every hour, and remove mushrooms as they become dry--usually after 4-6 hours. 

After the mushrooms are truly dry you can wait as long as you like to begin. 

The dark area inside is the mushroom

Chocolate and orange wood ear mushrooms

Please note, this recipe does require a dehydrator or dehydrating mushrooms in the oven.

• 
  
  Around 3 cups of fresh wood ear mushrooms
• 7 oz of your preferred chocolate, I like a ~70% cacao dark chocolate
• 1 pint orange juice
• 1/4 cup orange or peach liquor, or whichever flavor you prefer
• Confectioners' sugar (optional)

1. For this recipe, you need to work with mushrooms that have been first boiled and then dehydrated. See above. 
2. Mix the orange juice and liquor in a large bowl. If you don't want these to have any alcohol at all, bring the mix to a boil for at least a minute and then let cool. 
3. Add the mushrooms in and set aside in the fridge for at least 2 hours to reconstitute. 
4. Spread parchment on a cooled baking sheet. Space the pieces of reconstituted mushroom out on the sheet. 
5. Melt the chocolate in either a double boiler or a microwave.
6. Drizzle with the orange juice/liquor and then the chocolate. Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar if you wish.
7. Place in the refrigerator for 1 hour. Then flip each piece and repeat the process. 
8. Enjoy, but they should be kept in the refrigerator and should either be consumed or frozen within 4-5 days or the mycelium will begin to re-consume the mushrooms, which isn't bad for you but does impact the texture. 

Horseweed, lavender and parmesan savory shortbread

Over the past few years, my husband and I have been trying to fill in some holes in the landscaping of our front yard. During the bad winters of 21 and 22 several very, very, very large bushes died, leaving a bare area of more than 20 feed wide and about 12 feet deep in front of the dining room window. 

We didn't want to refill the area with more non-native, water guzzling landscaping bushes, and have instead been trying to find shrubs and perennial plants that fit our very restrictive list:

• 

  Early flowerbud on my surviving lavender

  Native or easy to naturalize, but without the risk of becoming invasive
• Low water or true xeriscape
• Good for pollinators
• Edible or medicinal (or both!)
• Grows densely enough that I don't have to weed

So far we have a large mat of native-to-the-southwest blanket flower (Gaillardia) surrounding the ginkgo tree (which fortunately survived), an English lavender shrub that was supposed to be 6 plants but only one survived, a seedling Feijoa (Acca sellowiana) which I believed had died twice but came back stronger each time, and a native-hybrid "hot lips" sagebush (salvia microphylla) which seems to be trying so hard to die and I just won't let it. There were supposed to be 3 different sages with 3 different flavor profiles, but this is the only one which has (so far) survived. 

Given all the plant deaths, what has survived covers barely 1/10th of the available space. But on the plus side, the weeds that have popped up in the remaining area are all edible. The crown jewel of wild plants in the space must be the very large black nightshade, Solanum nigrum, which produces an insane amount of fruit, but must be cut back repeatedly or it will fully engulf the salvia. Also popping up are wild lettuce, Asiatic dayflower, purslane, and some other nightshades I can't quite identify yet, but I think might be groundcherries (Physalis).

An ancient understanding of herbs

There is a historical tradition in many parts of Italy, that when it comes to curing meats, like capicola, you want to season the meat using the same herbs plants that the pig itself has been eating. So while a generic capicola curing packet might contain thyme, juniper and fennel, the small, local batches that have been done the same way for centuries will use ONLY fennel from the region, only thyme from the hillsides where the animals roam, and only the local juniper berries that fall and are gobbled up by the pigs. 

Horseweed & lavender,
I actually added a bit more than this

The thought behind this is that when things grow together it is both flavorful and healthful to consume them together. 

Why do I bring this up?

Well, this is what inspired me to make this recipe. You see, I saw the horseweed growing so abundantly in and around the lavender that I couldn't help but wonder if the two would taste good together. And the combination is WONDERFUL!

Savory shortbread recipes have been trending for a while. Or maybe they are past trending, I tend to only become aware of trends by the time they have largely ceased to be trends any longer. But regardless, they often contain thyme and rosemary. I do like thyme in small amounts, but I really don't care for rosemary. So I was excited to try the idea of the recipe with other herbs I enjoy. 

Savory horseweed, lavender and parmesan shortbread recipe

Makes 25-30 shortbreads, depending on size. Can be doubled or tripled.

• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 8 tbs / 4 oz / 1 stick of butter (I used grass-fed European butter)
• 4 oz parmesan cheese, grated*
• 1/2 cup finely chopped, freshly picked horseweed and lavender, about 3/4 cup un-chopped
• 2 medium navel oranges, juice and zest
• Pinch of kosher salt (omit if using salted butter)

*Don't buy pre-grated cheese here, it's worth it to grate your own--and very easy to do in a food processor. Pre-grated parmesan has cellulous added to keep it from sticking together, and that will really mess with the subtle flavors here. 

Images a bit out of order, from left to right: 
The butter softened and whipped, the finely chopped herbs, and the zested orange. 
All of this was done in the food processor.

Pears poached in elderberries with warm spices

Elderberry season seems to have come quickly this year,  even by Texas standards. I found a stand that I identified last year, past season, and already about half of the berries had fallen. This is now my second good source, as I already had an enormous tree right in my neighborhood.  

Fruit heads 8-10" across.

Better still, just days before I went and got the berries, my across the street neighbor invited my husband and myself to come grab some feral pears from the tree in her yard. Feral fruit is when you have a cultivated variety, in this case green anjou, but you don't treat it in anyway, you just let it grow as if it were wild. So no insect spraying, feeding/fertilizer, etc. 

Theoretically, this can deminish yield, and smaller sized fruit, but, well just look at it! Each branch was heavily laden with fruit and many of the pears were enormous! Honestly, I had difficulty finding "medium" sized pears for this recipe.

Pears that have not been sprayed for insects have thicker, more bitter skins than pears that have. The pear thickens its skin in response to insect activity. So naturally,  with pears that need to be peeled in one hand, and a crap ton of elderberries in the other, my mind went to poached pears. 

I like to poach pears to remain firm after cooking, for this reason I harvest them slightly underripe. Also, most recipes say to remove the elderberries from their stems by running a fork through them like a comb. I end up with a hot mess when I try this, so instead I simply use my fingers, gently. It may take a bit longer but it's not that bad. 

Nutritionally, this dish is super good for you, especially when you consider what's usually in a dessert. For each half-pear serving, with 1/6 of the sauce, you have about 135 calories, a ton of antioxidants and about half your daily vitamin C.

Pears poached in elderberries with warm spices 

Makes six servings or 3 large servings 

• 2 cups of elderberries (about 5 large heads of berries)
• 3 medium sized pears, peeled, tops and bottoms removed, cut in half lengthwise
• 4 green cardamom pods, smashed to open
• 1 cup of water
• 1/4 cup red wine or 2 tbs. bourbon 
• 2 tbs. brown sugar or honey 
• 1 tbs. aged balsamic vinegar
• 1 tps. ground cinnamon 
• 1/2 tps. ground cloves
• 1/4 tps. ground allspice
• 1 star anise
• Zest of one medium lemon 
• 1 tbs. corn starch

Add the water, smashed cardamom, lemon zest, star anise, brown sugar/honey, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice to a medium sauté pan on high heat. Bring to a boil and stir. 

Add in the elderberries and reduce heat to medium, but keep it simmering. Simmer for 5 minutes until the berries start to break apart. You can smash them a bit with your wooden spoon.

Place your pear halves in the sauce and continue to simmer for about 40 minutes, flipping the halves every 10 mins or so, until pears are the desired level of softness and redness.

Remove just the pears from the sauce and set aside. Mix the cornstarch with 3 tablespoons of water. Then add the resulting slurry to the sauce. Bring heat to a roiling boil and boil for 5 minutes, stiring constantly. 

Remove from heat, return pears to the sauce and serve pears and sauce after letting cool for about 5 mins. Tastes great with nonfat greek yogurt (makes a great brunch), clotted cream, ice cream or all by itself!

I mixed 1/2 cup fat free plain and 1/2 fat free vanilla greek yogurt and ate as a brunch!

Notes of caution when eating elderberries 

• Be sure of your identification.  People have mistaken deadly plants for elder.
• Only harvest flowers or berries, all other parts of the plant are poisonous.
• Only pick dead ripe and black (or blue, on the blue elder bush) berries. Underripe berries are partially poisonous as well.
• Only eat elderberries if you've cooked them well, the seeds contain toxins which must be destroyed with heat.
• Do not eat elder if you have the following medical conditions: diabetes (can interfere with medicine), cancer on chemotherapy (can interfere with treatment), autoimmune diseases (can aggravate symptoms and/or interfere with treatments) or if you are on laxatives or diuretics (can enhance the effects of both for dangerous dehydration) or Theophylline or other bronchodilators.

Savory spruce (or pine!), oatmeal and cheese scones. Eat your Christmas tree, part 2!

So after experimenting with the spruce in a sweet dessert cookie, I got curious about it as a savory. After all, rosemary and pine have kind of similar flavors, and rosemary is frequently the featured flavor in artisanal breads, biscuits and rolls.

I started out with a fairly basic oatmeal scone recipe, but I deviated pretty quickly. Technically, I think these would count as a "teacake" at this point, rather than a true scone.  I made them a little smaller than scones, as they are little sweeter (but still not sweet), denser, and richer. 

With spruce being an ingredient in Scandinavian cooking, and scones being British or English, what would you call these? Scandlish? Britinavian? 

I really liked these a lot, more than the sweet cookies I made earlier, though most everyone else liked the sweet better. These are best served hot, preferably with some creamy, grass-fed butter or fresh cheese, and, of course, a pot of hot tea!

Special note: women who are pregnant should avoid eating spruce. You could make these with pine or balsam fir instead, though!

Honeyed spruce (or pine) needle cookies. Yes, you CAN eat your Christmas tree!

Preparing for the holidays, I have made several huge messes in the kitchen, which my husband has lovingly cleaned up for his exhausted wife. I love cooking, but I get extremely flustered and tired when I'm trying to prepare multiple meals at the same time!

I think my husband was looking forward to a break in the mess, but fate interviewed, and oops! I did it again! At least I cleaned up after myself this time!

Beautiful fresh blue spruce

Pumpkin spiced wild persimmon syrup for cocktails, baking & dessert. Vegan, gluten-free, paleo optional and foraged.

We all know the old joke: "If you say Pumpkin Spice Latte" into a mirror

three times, a suburban girl in yoga pants will appear and tell you her three favorite things about fall.

Well, I don't wear yoga pants. But. . .it's not far off. I actually don't even DRINK coffee, except when it's a pumpkin spice latte during the fall.  I love that warm flavor of sugar, spice and everything nice. So I couldn't help but wonder what else I could use it with. Persimmons, another fall-only fruit, with a sweet/tart flavor, seemed like it would be the perfect pairing.

It came out really amazing. My husband took one taste and said, "It tastes like the holidays".

It's also really, really easy to mix up a batch, and can be used in cocktails, desserts, baking and more. The base recipe is vegan and gluten-free, and can be made with non-foraged (aka store-bought) persimmons, if you can't find wild ones by you. There's even a Paleo option!

Foraged Wood Sorrel Custard Pie

If you can get past the strange look, this pie is mighty tasty

Wood sorrel (Oxalis species) holds a special place in my heart. It always feels like the first wild food I ever ate, even though it really isn't. Ever since I can remember I picked berries with my mother, or chokecherries with my grandmother.

But wood sorrel was different. No member of my family ever pronounced it as safe, I never picked it with them. Rather, I learned it was edible from other children, who called it lemon clover. I ate it without hesitation, rather a dangerous precedent when your "expert" is an 8-year old, but it all turned out all right in the end.

Apparently my experience was typical; magically wood sorrel is enjoyed by children, who teach it to other children, and then somehow forget they ever ate it when they become adults. Sam Thayer tells of children all over the country delighting in this simple weed, and sharing their enjoyment with others. It goes by many regional names, lemon clover, lemon grass, sour clover, sour grass, and, apparently "juicies".

Wild Berry & Baked Brie Tartlets

Either I somehow managed to miss the juneberry season, or it really wasn't very good this year. In April, when the flowers were blooming, I went around and ID-d a bunch of trees, doubling the number I knew of in my neighborhood. Despite double the number of trees, I actually harvested less fruit than last year, which is a shame, because I was really looking forward, and I had several recipes that I wanted to experiment with.

Despite early indications of abundance, most of these
berries were eaten by birds before ripening fully.

The birds seemed to notice the poor season as well. They striped the trees bare long before the majority of the fruit was ripe. Also, usually they stay in the upper branches, since my neighborhood has a lot of constant car and sidewalk traffic, and this leaves the low-hanging fruit for me. However, this year the birds were everywhere, even sometimes within arm's length of me, as I harvested. They also seemed to do fly-by "strikes" on the fruit--where they swooped in and pecked at a berry while continuing to fly. This meant that a lot of the fruit I could get was unusable, as it spoiled once pecked at.

Anyway, complaining aside, I got enough berries to make this dessert. It's not particularly creative, there are numerous recipes where berries (usually blueberries) are baked with brie; however, I wanted to make something a little less sweet, and completely home-made, without the preservatives and other additives found in pre-made phyllo dough or ready-to-bake crescent rolls.