I love desserts. Whilst I thrive on the buzz of a busy service at the stoves, give me a couple of hours and a prep list of pastry, ice cream and chocolate and I am transported into a Willy Wonka world of sweet bliss. There is something very sensual about dessert making; gelatinous egg whites, transformed into glossy peaks with a sprinkle of silvery sugar and the beating of a whisk. A pinch of fragrant lavender fresh from the garden and finely ground and a dash of purple confectioners colouring and a violet mallow cloud emerges. Gently coerced through a piping nozzle into orderly rows, it slowly surrenders its moisture to the warmth of the oven and there you have it, the grown-up equivalent of iced gems; each crisp shell encircling a gooey heart, still wafting that ambrosial summer scent. Or the transformation of a thick bar of rich chocolate into a silky puddle atop a marble slab, ready to be teased into a wafer thin sheet; then the gentle sweep of a knife to create a perfect tempered pencil. The sense of having performed some magic spell which never subsides, no matter how many times you may have combined those magic four ingredients – flour, butter, sugar and eggs, then watched them rise feathery light to the top of the tin and take on that sun-kissed golden hue, transformed into a different entity entirely.
I love too the anticipation of a delivery of fresh summer fruits or even better, to go to the market or farm shop and carefully select those at that perfect stage of ripeness, lifting a fruit or two to the nose and inhaling its aroma. For me, to create and then to devour, a dish of poached stone fruit with an icy cold slab of creamy parfait and a shard of nut brittle, is one of life’s great pleasures.
The British summer offers an ever changing kaleidoscope of fruit. After the long winter hungry gap with little but the forced rhubarb crop to alleviate the monotony, June see the summer fruits spring into action; quintessentially English strawberries, trendy “superfood” blueberries, tongue tingling gooseberries and the first of the European stone fruits – peaches and apricots. Come July cherries and raspberries add to the mix, along with currants, red, white and black. By late August the tone begins to subtly shift to the autumnal call of blackberries and plums before diving once more into the months of the apple and pear.
I mentioned in last week’s column Dorset Handmade’s sweet pickled cherries, which I enjoyed this week baked into a chocolate pudding. The acidity of the pickle provides a counterpoint to the creamy richness, whilst the cinnamon and clove notes are an ideal partner to chocolate. Reduced to a syrup the pickling liquor provides a sweet and spicy sauce. Dive in and eat it warm, straight from the oven when it is sponge like or, to enjoy it at its best, bide your time and eat the next day when it will become dense, velvety and almost truffled in texture.
Sweet pickled cherry and chocolate pudding
2 eggs + 2 egg yolks
120g caster sugar
100g self-raising flour
100g ground almonds
75g butter
125g 70% dark chocolate
175g double cream
Pinch salt
Glug cherry brandy or amaretto or few drops almond essence
1 x 350g jar sweet pickled cherries
Preheat the oven to 180°, gas mark 4. Melt the butter and chocolate with the cream in a bowl over a pan of gently simmering water, being careful to ensure the bottom of the bowl does not touch the water. Whisk the eggs and sugar until thick and tripled in volume. Sieve the flour and fold with a pinch of salt and the almonds, into the egg mix. Finally fold through the melted chocolate and a splash of your flavouring of choice ensuring it is well mixed. Transfer to a buttered baking dish.
Strain the juice from the cherries into a saucepan. Sprinkle the pudding with the drained cherries and cook for 20 minutes or until the mix is lightly set but still a little gooey in the centre. Meanwhile, over a medium heat, reduce the pickling liquor until syrupy. Pour over the pudding whilst still warm. Serve hot with cream and fresh cherries.
Alison Smith @chefalismith
