Tag: seasonal

  • Smashed Raspberry Grilled Cheese


    Our challenge of savory seasonal eating continues!

    Raspberry season is upon us, and we quickly discovered through our research process that there’s not a whole lot of savory raspberry recipes out there, which we found simultaneously disappointing and alluring. We found plenty of jams, jellies, cookies, pavlovas (Christ, so many pavlovas) and cakes, but no one seemed interested in figuring out how raspberries could make their way out of the realm of dessert.

    But if there’s a way to make something savory, we will find it. As usual, the key was cheese.

    Grilled cheese sandwiches are essentially a step below pizza ingredient-wise, so they’re near the top of the favorite food list for us. Few things can compare to crisp and thickly sliced rustic bread (Nate makes the best) with melted cheese. However, there is one thing that these sandwiches usually lack to create what is more commonly accepted as a “complete taste” on its own, and that’s acid. That’s why you see grilled cheese and tomato soup paired together all over the place.

    So we thought…why not switch up the acid?


    Berries and cheese go way back, so we weren’t too scared about them intermingling. Our acidic subject? Fresh raspberries. Our cheese? We eventually decided to go with a blend of chèvre for flavor and Jarlsberg for texture. So we smashed some raspberries we got from Sauvie Island Farms after a lovely day of berry picking onto some of Nate’s homemade 50% whole wheat sourdough bread and got cooking.

    The results? Crunchy, fluffy, creamy, gooey, and tart. It was everything we hoped it would be and more. If you have any fruit laying around, especially incredibly fresh fruit, we wholeheartedly recommend you put your thinking cap on and find a cheese that’ll pair well with it, then immediately stuff it in a grilled cheese sandwich. You will not be disappointed. Sometimes it really is the simplest things that taste the best.

    Smashed Raspberry Grilled Cheese Sandwich:

    Makes 1.

    • 2 thick slices of good rustic bread (whole wheat sourdough was magical with this, but if you wanna try something else, it’ll still turn out awesome)
    • About 1 tablespoon of butter, room temperature
    • 8–10 ripe raspberries (enough to cover the surface of one piece of bread)
    • 2 ounces of Jarlsberg cheese, grated
    • 1 ounce chèvre, room temperature
    • A dash of freshly ground black pepper

    In a small bowl, mix the grated Jarlsberg and chèvre together along with the fresh black pepper. Set aside.

    Butter both pieces of bread on one side using ½ a tablespoon of butter each. On the unbuttered side of one of your pieces of bread, lay out your raspberries and smash them with a fork, moving the juices around until the entire surface of the bread is covered. Spoon the cheese mixture on top of the smashed raspberries and spread it until the cheese covers the surface of the bread. Put the other piece of bread on top, buttered side up.

    Preheat a non-stick pan on medium heat and put the sandwich in the pan. Allow each side to cook for roughly four minutes, adjusting heat as needed to cook the sandwich through, or until each side of the bread is golden brown and the cheese is melted. To help the melting process along, you can put a lid on the pan, keeping the heat trapped in, though you should limit this because you will lose that deep crispness with too much steam.

    Allow sandwich to cool, then go to town.


  • Strawbanero Sorbet


    Sorbet gets a bad rap.

    “Why would you want to eat that when you could have ice cream?”

    “That‘s gross, no thanks. I’ll take the good stuff.”

    “Aww, I’m sorry that’s all they have for you…”

    Rude.

    I’m going to make something clear here. If you think that sorbet is gross, it’s because all the sorbet you’ve had is garbage. It’s simple as that.

    I can understand the aversion; lots of commercial sorbet can be incredibly icy, resembling more of of a sad popscicle that got crammed into a pint container, but know this: it doesn’t need to be this way. Real sorbet is light and bright, harnessing the pure and unadulterated essence of the fruit it was made with. In a way, it’s like a little time capsule, keeping the fruit at the peak of its ripeness so you can revisit it every time you open your freezer. Good sorbet outshines any alternative no-fat, low-carb, low-sugar, high-protein, “guilt-free” bullshit on the market today. We tried some just to see for ourselves what the fuss was all about (for science!) and let’s say that we won’t be returning to that arena any time soon. Or ever.

    While Nate and I love almost everything about ice cream (eating it, making it, designing it) we understand that it’s a sometimes food. So, in an effort to find a dessert lower in fat that would be a little easier on our bodies and also rid ourselves of the ungodly amount of strawberries we purchased at the farmer’s market this week (they were just so pretty) we came up with this little recipe. Using amazing strawberries make it bright and floral while the habanero lends its own sweetness to the mix along with something a little extra.

    Strawbanero Sorbet:

    • 2 pounds ripe strawberries, tops removed

    • 1 small(!) habanero

    • ¾ cup sugar

    • ¾ cup water

    • ¼ cup light corn syrup or tapioca syrup

    • 2–3 tablespoons lemon juice (to taste)

    Put the sugar and water in a sauce pan over high heat and allow the mixture to boil, dissolving all the sugar in the solution. Once it resembles a syrup, remove from the heat and let it cool to room temperature.


    Spear the habanero on a fork and flame the skin over a gas burner (or with a blow torch) until the entire body of the chile is black. Remove the habanero from the fork and place in a plastic bag for 10 minutes or so, allowing the chile to sweat and its outer skin be very tender. Rub the char off the habanero, then remove the stem and the seeds, discarding them.

    Put all of the strawberries and the processed habanero into a food processor and blend until completely smooth. Strain it, if you like. Transfer the very fine strawberry habanero pulp to a large bowl and whisk in all the simple syrup and corn syrup. Chill in an airtight container until cold, at least an hour (we recommend overnight as it will allow the subtle flavor of the habanero to develop further).

    Prepare your ice cream/sorbet churner (if you using a freezer bowl make sure that it is completely frozen—this typically takes up to 24 hours). Remove the sorbet mix from the fridge and add the lemon juice, then pour into the churning machine. Churn for 15–20 minutes, or until it becomes thick and almost smoothie-like. Transfer into an airtight container like a large tupperware; cover in plastic wrap, allowing it to stick to the entire surface of the sorbet, lid it, then chill in the freezer for at least 4 hours.

    Serve in cups, cones, or maybe even in a spritzer for a zippy float.


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