Cherries, walnut leaves, John Coltrane and clafoutis
ABUNDANCE: Monday 17 June
Nobody knows what the fuck to wear. On the walk with the hound, I see sun hats, trench coats, gillets, t shirts, woolly hats, shorts, scarves, sandals. The only thing we all know for certain, is that at some point today we will be too hot for our clothes or cold to the bone, and very likely both.
I’m waiting. My body needs June and September; when you have skin the colour of supermarket shortcrust, you can live without July and August, but not its shoulders. A combination of April and October have taken June’s place and my body and soul feels its absence.
On the way home, I notice that the elders have pushed their flowers further from the leaves as if they’ve had enough of them; their scent is heavier than May’s, like warm elderflower cordial made with somebody else’s pee. It’s too early for green walnuts - mid July is usual - and chances are they will be later this year, but in checking on the tree by the river, their spicy, sherbetty leaves brighten my fingers with very possibly my favourite leaf scent of all.
I feel like I went for cake and came home with a pasty, and sometimes that has to do.
Luckily, the greengrocer came to the rescue. Somewhere in Kent, the earliest cherries in the sunniest locations are being harvested, and despite a bag of greedy handfuls tipping the scales at £12 odd, I couldn’t care less: they brought deep purple sunshine.
I make clafoutis and eat too many fresh from the colander as the rain falls.
From the window, I can see that in the garden the Babington’s leek heads are opening, the first colour blushes the mirabelles, and the bush roses are catching up with the rambler that flourishes across the garage.
And I wait, and I wait some more, for June to arrive on the southwesterly that makes all of it sway.
Cherry and coriander seed clafoutis
A decade ago, we stayed with friends in Aquitaine, just as the early strawberries gave way to cherries in the market. We had no need of them: outside their house, cherries hung from the tree outside their house at just a height where I could pull the most abundant branches down for my daughter to pick, open eyed at the pleasure of each. A special cherry is a reason to be alive, but if, like me, you buy more than you can eat fresh, or if they are good but not that good, clafoutis is about the best way with them.
You might be thinking ‘coriander?’ but trust me. Coriander seed shares a compound with blueberries and they go surprisingly well together; I wondered if coriander and cherries might make a happy marriage, and I’m very very glad I wondered. Despite sprinkling a considerable amount of only briefly pounded coriander seed over the finished clafoutis, it tastes not of coriander: the cherries taste even more of themselves. Trust me, I’m a doctor1.
For those who might be interested, I made this with gluten free flour, oat milk and oat cream, and though slightly different (a touch oatier) in flavour, it is equally good to a dairy version.
Serves 6
100g plain flour, plus a little for dusting
pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla extract or seeds from a vanilla pod
250ml whole milk
120ml double cream
3 medium eggs
60g caster sugar
350g cherries, stalk and stone removed
20g unsalted butter cut into small cubes, plus a little for buttering the dish
1 tbsp icing sugar
1 tsp coriander seed, crushed in a mortar and pestle
Pre-heat the oven to 230C/gas 8. Butter a round baking dish of around 25cm diameter - or 28 x 20cm if rectangular. Dust it lightly with flour.
Sieve the flour and salt into a large bowl. Whisk in the vanilla and half the milk until it forms a smooth batter. Whisk - as quickly as you can - the eggs in one at a time, followed by the caster sugar, the rest of the milk and the cream.
Spread the cherries in the baking dish, pour in the batter and dot the cubes of butter across the top. Place the dish into the oven and cook for around 20-25 minutes until plump and golden. Remove from the oven and allow to cool a little, before dusting with icing sugar and sprinkling with coriander seed.
Serve warm with double cream.
Well, an Honorary Professor of Liverpool University, but still
All us scousers are out in our shorts ….. it’s summer no matter what the weather says.
Strawberries are doing well though and the apple orchard is enjoying it not being a million degrees with no rain.
I think I enjoy the unpredictably of it all as it makes me cook different things depending on what I have a food mountain of.
Lovely! Particularly the association of elderflowers with pee. Yr right, course you are!