Saturday, January 23, 2021

Australian Finger Lime Marmalade



[Note: I have redone my recipe for finger lime marmalade and posted a new version. This post is still useful as I did not copy all of the background information, etc., but you can find the latest and greatest here.]

Several years ago I planted an Australian finger lime bush (Citrus australasica). It took a few years to get established, during which time I got just a couple fruits, then a handful of fruits, then more, and more, until now I harvest a couple of pounds per season (they are quite small, so that is a lot.) Though they are great on sushi, salmon, and a few other things, it’s not clear what else to do with them. 

The thing that is cool about finger limes is that when you cut them open, little balls of lime juice spill out. They are about the size of flying fish row (aka tobiko) and are sometimes referred to as “lime caviar”, which is an excellent description. Unfortunately, you can’t really taste them unless they get burst by your teeth when you chew them. So, they easily get lost in a lot of applications. I have read that bartenders have gone crazy for them, but when I use them in drinks they are a flop, because most people don’t chew their beverages.
 
A bowl of finger limes
Since I now harvest a lot of finger limes, I have been looking for things to do with them other than give them to my favorite sushi chefs and bartenders. The skin of the finger line is delicious, but sharp and (pleasantly) bitter. The fruit inside tastes much like standard limes – not identical, but similar. Taken together they have a unique lime flavor, but if you use the skin, the bitterness can easily become overwhelming. So how, I wondered, can I take advantage of so many fruits, and their skins, and manage the fact that the juice is locked up in tiny capsules. I concluded that marmalade could show off the special characteristics of finger limes.

I am working on a finger lime marmalade recipe. Note that this is a recipe in progress. I have made it just once, and it was only semi-successful. The result of my first batch is sourer and a lot more bitter than what I had in mind. It is nice as a garnish - a dollop on salmon is great, and it is a delicious accompaniment to brie on crackers, but it is not something you are going to want to spread on toast. The next time I make it, I intend to try to reduce the bitterness and increase its sweetness.

Even though the recipe isn’t ready for "publication", I present it here for your interest. Hopefully, I can get some comments and suggestions for the next batch (to be made after the next harvest.) Perhaps people in Australia, or elsewhere in the southern hemisphere, will make some marmalade now, and let me know how it went.

It is also worth mentioning that for the purpose of incorporation into a cooked product like marmalade, these limes freeze well. In fact, they freeze surprisingly well to store for almost any application. This first batch included frozen fruit collected over a couple of seasons, in addition to fresh. 

Left, fresh. Right, previously frozen.
My recipe is loosely based on a lime marmalade recipe from Blue Ribbon Preserves by Linda J. Amendt. Mine is a new recipe due to the unique characteristics of finger limes, but I did use her recipe for the general structure. It is also assisted by ideas from the two web sites that claim a finger lime marmalade (which are almost identical to each other).

Also note that currently finger limes in the USA run about $30-$50 per pound. So, you pretty much must have your own tree to consider making this marmalade. The recipe below yielded 10 cups of marmalade. Thus, the cost would be between $10 and $17 per cup if one needed to purchase the limes.

And so, for your enjoyment, I present the “beta test” of my Finger Lime Marmalade, v1.0. 

Finger Lime Marmalade Recipe v1.0

Yield: 10 cups

INGREDIENTS:
  • 3.5lbs Finger limes.
  • 3.5lbs Sugar for macerating limes.
  • Additional 8oz sugar added during cooking.
  • ¼ C dextrose to reduce sugaring off (can sub Karo, or other non-sucrose sugar.)
  • 1 pkg liquid pectin (3oz).
  • Baking soda (optional).
METHOD:

Processing the limes took a fair bit of time and effort, so I did it in two batches over two days, then cooked them on the third day. I don’t think this is necessary, though macerating fruit for marmalade is generally a good idea to get it to release liquid and pre-absorb sugar. On the first day I processed about 1.5 pounds, macerating them in the refrigerator with an equal amount of sugar. On the second day I processed the rest, adding them to the same container, again with an equal amount of sugar. On the third day I cooked the marmalade.


Useful tools for processing the limes: knife, mini-rolling pin, and bench scraper.
PROCESSING THE LIMES: 
  1. Blanch the whole finger limes in boiling water for a couple minutes, then plunge them into cold water. This will help to remove some of the bitterness and make them easier to “squeeze” (see below.) Unfortunately, for v1.0 I decided that I wanted to retain some fresh lime oil, so I left about 1 cup of fruit unblanched. As noted, the marmalade was too bitter, so next time I will blanch the whole batch.
  2. Next, slice the stem end from each lime. Squeeze the fruit from the skins with a small rolling pin.

  3. Spread the pulp out on a cutting board to pick out all the seeds you can. This is a long, tedious process. Hey! Guess what! When I cooked the fruit, I found that any seeds I had missed floated to the top! Next time I will skip picking out the seeds and simply skim them off during cooking. Assuming that works, it will be a big time saver. If it doesn’t work, I guess I’ll have a batch of seedy marmalade.

  4. I did not do this, but next time I will re-blanch the emptied skins to try to remove some of the bitterness of the pith which is now exposed. Hopefully that won’t remove too much flavor from the end product.

  5. Chop the skins into pieces of a size that is pleasing to you. I started out trying to make neat, uniform disks, but quickly realized that I would go mad before I finished, so I resorted to just chopping. The result was fine. Disks would have been prettier, but not if they dragged me away in a straight jacket before I got done.

  6. Put the fruit and chopped skins in a container with an equal amount of sugar (by weight). Allow them to macerate in the refrigerator at least overnight. Note that it can be held this way for an indefinite number of days until you are ready to cook.
COOKING THE MARMALADE:


I strongly recommend investing in a copper jam pot if you do a lot of preserving. They are quite expensive (generally US$200 and up), however, using one makes preserving easier and produces a better product. Really. If you don’t have one and can afford it, you’ll thank me. 



Before starting, put a plate in the freezer with several spoons to use in testing for setting. 

Put the macerated limes into the pot along with 8 oz additional sugar (next time I intend to use more.)

Add the baking soda. Note that since the skins are very thin, this is probably unnecessary. Baking soda in marmalade helps to break down the peels, shortening the time it takes to cook and soften them.

Bring to a full boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat and simmer for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Return the mixture to a full rolling boil, stirring constantly. Add the liquid pectin. Stir constantly while bringing the mixture back to a full rolling boil. Boil for one minute. 


Test for set and consistency using a spoon from the freezer (or any other method you prefer.) When the marmalade has set to your satisfaction, remove it from the heat. Allow it to cool for a few minutes to minimize separation of the fruit, skins, and juice in the jar.

For working with hot jam or marmalade, silicon gloves are a must-have.
Ladle into sterilized jars and process by whichever safe method you prefer.


Friday, January 8, 2021

Pumpion Pie


Introduction

For several months I have been watching the YouTube channel, Tasting History with Max Miller. It's great. His mix of humor and ingredients strikes just the right tone, and he manages to make both a recipe and a history lesson entertaining without being overly long (a fault of which I am clearly guilty.)

Just before Thanksgiving he did an episode on 17th C. “Pumpion Pie”, aka pumpkin pie. I made one, and it was delicious. Everyone that tasted it wanted more. But, making it was something of a pain. At the very least, it was much more work than a modern custard-based pie. I wanted to come up with a recipe that produced a result that was the same, or comparable, with less effort. I’ve been cooking pies and experimenting with this ever since. I think I finally have a delicious, easier to make, pumpion pie, which I share at the end of this post.

Miller also skipped a few factoids that I think are worth mentioning. He obviously can’t discuss every last thing about a recipe or else the segments would be too long for anyone but the most diehard to sit through. I have no such problem here. If you don’t care about these extra notes, jump ahead to the recipe😊

Note: though I am including a set of historical notes, the recipe I present is intended to be easier to make than Miller’s recipe, but it is not intended to be historically accurate. If you want to make the most authentic redaction of the recipe, stick with Miller’s excellent video

Not all pumpkins are smooth, spherical, or orange.

Words for pumpkins and squashes

I am going to make several references to “pumpkins”, and also to what are more broadly called “winter squashes” (though “pumpkins” are, in fact, winter squashes.) Note that, “the term pumpkin has no agreed upon botanical or scientific meaning, and is used interchangeably with ‘squash’ and ‘winter squash’.” (source: Wikipedia). Pumpkins are like obscenity – I can’t define them, but I know one when I see it.

The Annotated FRENCH GARDINER, Part One, The Kitchen Garden, 1658 by Nicholas de Bonnefons, translated by John Evelyn, edited and annotated by William Rubel

Pumpeons are raised also upon the hot-bed, and are removed like the former, but for the most part upon plain ground: being placed in some spacious part of your Garden because their shoots and tendrells straggle a great way before they knot into fruit.

The pumpeon of this work refers to winter squashes in general, including our pumpkin. It could have been a Cucurbita pepo, C. moschata, or C. maxima. [Annotation by William Rubel.]

For clarity, I will use “pumpkin” to refer to the spherical orange winter squashes that modern Americans (and many others) would call a “pumpkin”, as well as pumpkins like jarrahdale, porcelain doll pink, tiger, and dozens of other squashes called "pumpkins" which aren’t necessarily orange, nor particularly spherical. I will use the phrase “winter squash” to refer to hard-skinned, late season squashes such as butternut, kabocha, buttercup, etc., but not including squashes previously defined as “pumpkins.” Finally, I will refer to specific varieties of winter squash or pumpkin by name. 

The original recipe

Miller provides us with a recipe by Hannah Wooley from The Queen-like Closet, 1670. Page 256 (recipe CXXXII)

To make a Pumpion-Pie.

Take a Pumpion, pare it, and cut it in thin slices, dip it in beaten Eggs and Herbs shred small, and fry it till it be enough, then lay it into a Pie with Butter, Raisins, Currans, Sugar and Sack, and in the bottom some sharp Apples; when it is baked, butter it and serve it in.

However, the same book has another, rather different, recipe (XCIII), presented on page 235, some 20 pages earlier.

To make a Pompion-Pie.

Having your Paste ready in your Pan, put in your Pompion pared and cut in thin slices, then fill up your Pie with sharp Apples, and a little Pepper, and a little Salt, then close it, and bake it, then butter it, and serve it in hot to the Table.

You may find it odd that the book contains two recipes with the same name which are not presented together as two versions of the same thing. There is a surprising reason why this might be the case. For much of the history of publishing, copyright laws were non-existent or ignored. [Copyright law came into existence in England in 1710.] It was common for authors, or publishers, to fill out short books with sections lifted from other books. In fact, there are books that are nothing more than a combination of sections from different pre-existing books with no original content whatsoever, and without any credit to the originals. Indeed, plagiarizing entire books was not uncommon. So, while Wooley may have included two different “pumpion-pie” recipes of her own, it is equally likely that one of the two (or both?) came from some other source and was added to give the book heft.

In any case, the other version (XCIII) is interesting to consider - the differences in ingredients and method are significant. It is vastly simpler, consisting of nothing other than pumpkin and apples, plus salt, pepper, and butter. This version of the recipe is practically just sliced pumpkin baked with apples; it hardly matters that they are baked within a pie shell – they could easily have gone into the oven in a baking dish. This may harken back to a time when crusts were used to contain filling, but were not intended to be eaten.

Another contemporaneous “pumpion pye

Yet another recipe, published two years before The Queen-like Closet, presents some additional clues about pumpion pies. I assume this is the other recipe to which Miller alludes.

The Compleat Cook, Expertly Prescribing The Most Ready Wayes, Whether Italian, Spanish Or French, For Dressing Of Flesh And Fish, Ordering Of Sauces Or Making Of Pastry, written anonymously and published in 1658:

To make a Pumpion Pye.

Take about halfe a pound of Pumpion and slice it, a handfull of Tyme, a little Rosemary, Parsley and sweet Marjoram slipped off the stalks, and chop them smal, then take Cinamon, Nutmeg, Pepper, and six Cloves, and beat them; take ten Eggs and beat them; then mix them, and beat them altogether, and put in as much Sugar as you think fit, then fry them like a froiz*; after it is fryed, let it stand till it be cold, then fill your Pye, take sliced Apples thinne round wayes, and lay a row of the Froiz, and a layer of Apples with Currans betwixt the layer while your Pye is fitted, and put in a good deal of sweet butter before you close it; when the Pye is baked, take six yolks of Eggs, some white−wine or Verjuyce, & make a Caudle of this, but not too thick; cut up the Lid and put it in, stir them well together whilst the Eggs and Pumpions be not perceived, and so serve it up.

* BritishFoodHistory.com tells us “A froiz is something that has been fried, usually with beaten eggs like a Spanish omelet”. Photos of froiz look very much like a frittata.

 

The king of the pumpkins receiving homages from his subjects
Autumn Sketches, 1865

Pumpkins or “pumpion

Winter squashes were brought to Spain in 1492, but it appears that they did not arrive in England until sometime later – possibly a lot later. In William Rubel’s annotations to The French Gardiner, he notes that the use of the word “pumpeon” could have referred to winter squash or pumpkin, so presumably pumpkin was being grown in English gardens by that date, but so were other winter squashes. So, while Wooley certainly had access to pumpkins, she could have been referring to other winter squashes. 

Currans or Currants

In modern English, the word “currant” refers to either the fruit of the currant bush (Ribes) (red, black, or white), or to completely unrelated small raisins (often referred to as “Zante currants”).

Currant bushes (Ribes) have grown in northern Europe since time immemorial and have probably been eaten by humans since homo sapiens arrived in the area. The little raisin, “Zante currant”, dates to at least Rome of the first century CE. So, both would have been known and available in England in the 17th C. As a result, we can’t definitively say which one Wooley meant, however, based on other similar recipes it is virtually certain that she is calling for Zante currants. There are some additional clues. “Zante currants” at the time were generally referred to as “currans” without the “t”, as she does. Also, she is using dried fruit (raisins) in the recipe, so another dried fruit is reasonable.

Side note: Other than those used for Zante currants, seedless grapes did not exist at this time (there may have been some seedless mutations here or there in the world, but they weren’t commonly available.) The Thompson’s seedless grape, now used for most raisins consumed in the US, was introduced in the mid-19th C. Thus, if you wanted seedless raisins (and who doesn’t), you would have needed to pick out the seeds before drying the fruit. The exception was the grape used for Zante currants, making them a much easier ingredient to produce. So, one might ask why she didn’t skip the raisins and use only currants - they are similar and would have been easier to make.

Side note 2: One runs into a lot of recipes that call for both raisins and currants. I have never understood why. To my tongue they are very similar, and, once cooked, they are almost indistinguishable. I wonder whether period currants were notably different than raisins of that time period.

Herbs

Wooley refers simply to “herbs shred small”. Miller imagines this as “2 handfuls” of rosemary, parsley, and thyme. This is a reasonable guess. The Compleat Cook uses this trio (plus marjoram and spices.) But Wooley’s pumpion pie could have included any set of herbs, any number of different herbs, and in any quantity. 

Apples

Granny Smith apples did not exist in the 17th C. They are a relatively new cultivar. So, both Miller and I are stepping away from authenticity by using this apple (though it does work brilliantly in this pie.)

About my recipe

My recipe differs from Millers in several respects: intention, ingredients, and method. 

Intention

This pie is so delicious that I think it should be resurrected as common fare – at Thanksgiving or any time of the year. Thus, my intention is to make it as easy as possible for modern cooks to enjoy it, regardless of historical accuracy. If my result is comparable to the original, but easier to make, then I have succeeded. If I may be so bold, in addition to ease, I believe my creation is more delicious than the original on which it is based. 

Ingredients:

Pumpkin/squash

In most parts of the United States (and, indeed, the world), pumpkins seasonal availability is brief. Butternut squash is available almost year-round and is generally cheaper than pumpkin, making it an ideal substitute.

To add injury to unavailability, pumpkins aren’t the easiest winter squash to work with. Their skin is tough, and the seed cavity is large. [Kabocha squash, while delicious, can be even more of a pain.] In his video, Miller shows a smooth skinned pumpkin which he peels with a vegetable peeler. All the pumpkins I have found for sale have had ridges, as well as defects, making such treatment impossible and requiring a good knife and good technique. [Note: if you are cutting away the skin of a pumpkin with ridges, the easiest tool is a serrated knife, not a chef’s or paring knife.] Even Miller admits almost cutting himself while working with pumpkin.

The kind of pumpkins available in my area. Rough and ridged.
Conversely, butternut squash has softer skin and never has ridges. It is easily peeled with an ordinary vegetable peeler. Also, it has a smaller seed cavity that is easier to scoop out. Lastly, to my palate, butternut has a finer texture than pumpkin, and a more pleasing taste. Not only that, but when cooked, butternut squash has a deeper, redder color than pumpkin.

[Side note: Many canned “pumpkin” products are made from other winter squashes, especially butternut. Thus, if you are used to canned “pumpkin”, you may have been eating butternut squash all along, and, to you, it may taste more like pumpkin than pumpkin!] 

[Update: According to the site MentalFloss.com, "Libby’s, the largest pumpkin puree brand, has developed its own unique brand of squash called the Dickinson, which is more closely related to a butternut squash than a pumpkin."]

Currants

As noted, Wooley is probably specifying Zante currants, which are just tiny raisins. Zante currants tend to be a little bit sweeter than many other raisins, and they have a somewhat different texture, but, after baking in a pie, the difference is minor. So, while it is not terribly difficult to find Zante currants in grocery stores, raisins are more available, cheaper, and people are likely to already have them in their pantry. After making several recipes with both, I dropped the currants and doubled the quantity of raisins. If you have Zante currents on hand, use them. Otherwise, standard raisins work out fine.

[On one occasion I made a pie replacing the currants with dried cranberries. That was a delicious edit, which I suggest as an option.]

Eggs

The Queen-like Closet has us dip the squash in an egg-herb mix, and then pan fry. The “pumpion pye” from The Compleat Cook, has similar instructions, but directing that it should be made like a “froiz” - comparable to a Spanish omelet. I cannot figure out why either method is called for. First and foremost, cooking the squash like this in a pan takes a long time and requires active attention. Wooley wastes a lot of egg and herbs that drip off the slices as they are dipped. Finally, dipping the slices in egg precludes other cooking techniques for the squash.

Cooking the squash uncoated while adding eggs and herbs directly to the pie (along with sugar, butter, sack, etc.) produces a result which is different than the original version, but, no less delicious. This allows us to cook the squash by any method we desire. 

Herbs

Personally, I like rosemary and thyme with the squash, but not parsley. Though I like parsley in general, in this context I found it unpleasant. Thus, I substituted sage. This is 100% personal taste. Also, I am not certain what Miller means by “2 handfuls”. I provide specific quantities that I feel balance well with the other flavors. 

Butter

The 6 tbs of butter makes this dish rich and yummy, but I found it excessive. Not cooking the squash in a pan (see Method below) removes 2 tbs, and I don’t see much value in adding butter on top after cooking,. This leaves just 2 tbs in the pie - healthy pie!

Pie crust

I love a great pie crust. A well-made pĂąte brisĂ©e is a wonderful thing. However, the standout feature of this pie is the filling. The crust isn’t terribly important. Once they taste the pie, even your most finnicky friends will forgive a store-bought pie crust.

[Warning: Standard commercial pie crusts are very shallow, and smaller than 9” in diameter. Commercial “deep dish” crusts are about the height of a standard pie dish, though still often smaller in diameter. Take this into account when determining quantities for your pie’s filling.] 

Method

The big effort and time killers are peeling, seeding, and slicing the pumpkin, and then pan cooking the egg-dipped pieces. As noted, I took care of the first issue by substituting butternut squash. The pan cooking is an even greater hassle, requiring monitoring, moving, and flipping the squash slices. I found it to be a very troublesome process. To make matters worse, one either needs a very large pan, multiple layers of squash which demand even more active sautéing, or cooking them in multiple batches, which expands the time considerably.

Ultimately, the goal of pan cooking the squash is simply to par-cook it before finishing cooking in the oven, and to set the egg. Since these ingredients are all going into a pie which will be baked in the oven for close to an hour, a lot of sins can be hidden. The squash could be par cooked by any method you prefer – boiling, baking, sautĂ©ing, or microwaving. Yes, microwaving. I have found that this is the quickest and easiest way to par cook a bowl of squash. Its vastly faster and does not require much attention. Even knowing that this dastardly deed has been perpetrated on innocent ingredients, I challenge you to detect it in the result. You would be surprised how lewd and crude you can be with ingredients that end up baked in a pie.

I am also slicing the squash thicker than Miller calls for. I found that gave a toothier texture and even more attention to the squash, being in pieces rather than pureed.

In his video, Miller appears to be adding a whole 2Tbs pat of butter to the filling. I cut up the butter for better distribution. 

Unattractive burned raisins

Lastly, Wooley's recipe calls for adding the raisins to the mixture. However, I have found that they don’t get very well distributed, and many end up on top. The ones on top tend to burn, which is unattractive. So, I layer the raisins with layers of squash mixture, (as in The Compleat Cook) attempting to have squash on top with few raisins exposed directly to the heat of the oven.