What to do with raspberries (part 2)

Once again, I started this a while ago, when there was still a plentiful supply of fruit coming from the garden. Ten days later, I've finally completed it, but the fruit is gone...

Two bottles of raspberry vinegar (for recipe see part 1); on the right, last year's, made from white wine vinegar, now mature; on the left, white balsamic vinegar just beginning to take on the fruit's colour and aroma.

The raspberry glut continues, so I've been searching out more ways of dealing with them. I have started freezing the best ones, in order to prevent them mouldering around my kitchen (at one point, I had a good dozen bowls and colanders full of soft fruit, and it was getting difficult to prevent some going off), and I've made more jam, but there are other ways of preserving their deliciousness...

On July 4th, my friends had a small barbecue. It was the best weather - mostly sunny, really warm (for round here - low 20s), and mild right into the night. As an American was present, I decided to make a red, white, and blue dessert. Originally, I was going to try pavlova, but I had a lot to do, and wasn't inclined to spend several hours on it. The next best thing was Eton mess - incorporating homegrown strawberries and raspberries. I consulted a few recipes online, and adapted them to what I had in. First I whipped double cream with a good drizzle of honey and a dash of vanilla extract. Into this I crumbled shop-bought meringues. Then I took a bowlful each of raspberries and strawberries. half of these were puréed with a hand blender with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, the passed through a sieve to make a coulis. The final dessert was assembled by stirring the intact fruit (the strawberries were chopped), with a punnet of blueberries, through the cream-meringue mixture, then drizzling the coulis over the top.

The reason I had the cream was a recipe I found in Rick Stein's French Odyssey cookbook for raspberry parfait. Sadly, I never got round to making it. However, for the record, it's a frozen dessert made by whisking eggs yolks and sugar syrup, then adding whipped vanilla cream, crushed raspberries, and freezing in ramekins. They are served topped with fresh raspberries and icing sugar.

Now for something experimental. I developed a love for pomegranate molasses over the winter. I'd never tried it, so when I visited a great Middle Eastern/Turkish/Greek/everything food store in south London in November, I had to get some. It's not cheap, but it goes a long way. It's almost transcendentally intense - sweet and sour together. I like it as it is, but drizzled over roast meat, stirred through cous cous, or added to sparkling wine, it's just as good. I want to make my own sometime, although pomegranates are criminally expensive (as is their juice). However, for now, I'm trying raspberry molasses. I could find no recipes for this online, so I went with instinct. I had a colander of raspberries that were on the turn, so I crushed them, then strained them through muslin with boiling water. I poured the juice into a pan, and added a little white sugar. This was brought to the boil, then simmered very gently, and allowed to reduce until syrupy. I didn't want it to be too sweet, so I kept tasting, to make sure it was balanced (citric acid is useful here, in case you do add too much sugar). The idea was partly to make something unusual, and partly inspired by how quickly the strawberry syrup I made a few weeks ago went mouldy (the liquid under the surface is still fine). A "molasses", being that much more concentrated, will, in theory, keep indefinitely. As for uses, I'm hoping it will work wherever the more usual version is recommended!

A extension of the fruit syrup in the last post on raspberries is the alcoholic version: raspberry liqueur. Essentially, this is a syrup or cordial combined with a spirit. It can keep much longer than the non-alcoholic version, depending on strength. The simplest method is to make a syrup and then combine it with brandy, vodka, or rum. However, I would recommend making the syrup more concentrated, with higher sugar and acidity levels (adjusting with citric acid), in order to counterbalance the alcoholic "burn". Another way of making them is to layer the fruit with sugar in a large jar, topping up with the spirit of your choice. However, it's much harder to balance the flavour, as it takes up to several weeks for the sugar to dissolve, and the fruit juices to seep into the liquor. The method I'm using this time is more complicated than either of these, and based loosely on the recipe for Chambord, a proprietary "black raspberry" liqueur (there are a couple of species of fruit called black raspberries, but I'm not aware of which, if any, is used for this - it has always sounded rather like something dreamed up by their marketing department, especially given neither type of raspberry is native to Europe, yet the liqueur claims 17th century ancestry). The Wikipedia article outlines the method, but it basically involves steeping the fruit in brandy and then pressing. I have started the process, with the addition of a little sugar. The fruit will be left for a couple of weeks, then passed through a sieve, and strained through muslin, before adjusting for taste. This leads to a much stronger liqueur than the first method above, since no water is added to the mix.

Raspberries soaking in brandy. The bits will be strained out before final bottling.

Flavoured spirits were rare a couple of decades ago, but you can buy dozens of kinds nowadays - mostly vodka. It's still worth making your own, however, since you can produce flavours that are unavailable, it works out cheaper (in general), and they tend to taste fresher and less confected (at least to me). Vodka is a clean, neutral base, perfect for any fresh fruit, vanilla, or more exotic things like chilli, ginger, or horseradish. Rum and brandy work with most fruits too, and also spices and dried fruit like raisins and sultanas. Gin is usually paired with the autumn hedgerow fruits damsons and sloes, although summer fruits might be worth a try too. In all these cases, the method is the same: either pour out some of the spirit from its original bottle (assuming it doesn't have one of those pesky plastic contraptions that restrict the flow) and fill with your flavouring of choice, topping up if necessary. Alternatively, place your flavouring into a wide-mouthed jar, and fill up with the spirit. Leave in a cool, dark place for a couple of weeks or several months, shaking regularly. Either strain and return to the bottle, or use as is, although it will need straining before use in cocktails or with a mixer. It goes without saying your flavoured spirit will take on the colour of whatever you've soaked in it - rather than remaining colourless like the commercial versions. If you've made raspberry vodka, try a raspberry martini: shake 2 measures (50ml) raspberry vodka with 1 measure each of sugar syrup (or raspberry syrup, or honey) and either lemon or lime juice. Strain into a chilled martini glass. A measure of fresh raspberry purée would work in this too. Or try a raspberry Collins: stir 2 measures raspberry vodka (or gin), and 1 each of syrup and lemon juice, with ice in a tall glass, and top up with soda water.

(For another cocktail using raspberries, see this previous post).

A raspberry martini - very intense! (Apologies for the use of flash)

No doubt there are plenty of other things you can do with these delicious fruits, but I think that will do for this year.

Fruit

I think it's worth mentioning another love of mine, both in gardening and cooking: fruit. Specifically, soft fruit - though which is my favourite, I couldn't say; it's a close contest between raspberries and redcurrants.

I grow both, as well as gooseberries (theoretically a red dessert variety, but it always gets attacked by sawfly before it can ripen properly), white- and blackcurrants, and strawberries. As you can see in the picture above, the raspberry canes that grew last summer, and overwintered as drab, brown whips, are bursting into leaf now, and it won't be long before tiny flower buds start appearing.

In fact, these are a supreme example of serendipity. Most of my back garden was overrun by brambles a few years ago - it's a south-facing slope, that was crowned by a large Holm oak tree until it collapsed in a gale. With sunlight free to bathe the soil, and nobody around to stop them (I lived away at university, then in London), blackberries took over - reaching six feet high. When I moved back here nearly three years ago, I began carving out a space amongst them - now they are all but gone. However, the most surprising discovery of the summer of 2008 was something else growing in the bramble patch - similarly arching, prickly, with leaves that a casual observer might not distinguish. But the fruit was different - maturing earlier, to red, not black. Raspberries! They must have come from a seed - maybe in bird droppings. They not only held their own against the blackberries, but were actually winning. The following year, I pruned selectively - leaving the raspberry canes alone. I ate so much fruit - handfuls in the sunshine.

I dug some out, and left them in a bucket, meaning to replant them when the ground was cleared. I didn't, and thought they were all dead. But I was wrong - the canes in the bucket rooted through into the ground beneath, and the slope produced more canes the following summer - tiny sections of root must have remained. Last year I was more conscientious, and tied them into a framework of bamboo canes. I cut down the old ones once they were spent, and tied in the new ones (being summer raspberries, they fruit on last year's wood).

I gathered so many last year, I couldn't keep up - I gave some away to friends. This year I expect even more, as they will be fertilised and kept free of weeds. I thought I'd share a 'recipe' I hope to use them in - I doubt there will be enough for jam (which I make, but never use), or even sorbet - but cocktails are another matter (though most will be eaten fresh). Here's a drink I've made for years, which has proved popular with friends - a great, unexpected combination.

Mrs Robinson
adapted from Diffordsguide

ingredients

• raspberries
• bourbon
• lemon or lime juice
• sugar syrup
• soda water

method

1. Muddle (squish) a handful of raspberries in a cocktail shaker.
2. Add a double shot (50ml) of bourbon, one measure (25ml) each of juice and syrup, and fill the shaker with ice cubes.
3. Shake; strain into a glass with crushed ice.
4. Top up with soda water.

notes and substitutions
I suppose other whiskeys and whiskies would be fine, but bourbon has a great flavour profile, which works really well with the fruit. Simon Difford, who originated this recipe, adds crème de frambois (raspberry liqueur), which is good, if you can get it (major supermarkets should stock it) - add a shot. Mint could be added with the raspberries, for more aroma and complexity. To be honest, it might be easier, if you intend to make a lot of these, to purée the raspberries in bulk, and add the sugar syrup and citrus juice to them to make a pre-mixed juice/syrup. Don't use a juicer - too messy. Just soften the raspberries in a pan with a drop of water over a gentle heat for a few minutes, then pass through a sieve. The balance between sugar and acidity depends on your taste, and on the fruit itself - keep tasting until it's right.

This Season's Must-Have Cocktail

I recently visited London, a city I used to live and work in. I met up with a couple of friends, and ate some good food.

I also went for cocktails one evening. This was unplanned, but fun. My friend and I had just eaten in Chinatown, and wandered towards Covent Garden, past a place I've seen before but never visited (its location is too obvious to be good, or so I thought). We went in.

For such a touristy area, just off Trafalgar Square, it was not crammed, just nicely busy, and had a very chilled atmosphere. The décor was sophisticated, the staff friendly and quite attentive.

Happy hour meant cocktails were £3.75 - excellent for anywhere, but particularly central London. I started with a Vanilla Cherry Royale, described as "Cherry infused vanilla liqueur charged with Prosecco & Cherry Heering", which turned out to be rather too sweet and confected, though still drinkable. My friend had a Berry Cosmopolitan, "Absolut Kurrant [sic] & Absolut Raspberry [sic] shaken with Chambord black raspberry liqueur, fresh lime juice & a
dash of sugar syrup", which was nice, but strong-tasting. My second was also sparkling, a Pear & Rosemary Bellini (I was excited to see such unusual flavours on the happy hour menu), which was delicious, but I couldn't taste the rosemary (my friend could). Hers, however, was a triumph: Katana, described thus: "Muddled cucumber & mint shaken with Bombay Sapphire gin, pressed apple juice, fresh lime & a dash of sugar syrup."

It tasted so fresh I wished I'd chosen it, so I decided to recreate it at home. I'm planning several group events this summer, nominally barbecues, and a small selection of exquisite cocktails will fit the bill.

I don't dictate spirit brands; the bar chose Bombay Sapphire, which is a perfectly acceptable gin, but anything in the £15-20 price range would do (Tanqueray, Plymouth, Gordon's white label, etc). I'm currently using Blackwood's 2006 vintage (it has an uncommonly short list of botanicals, and frankly I'm doubtful any vintage character would show through in a spirit, but it's one of the best gins I've tasted). I've fiddled with various combinations, and here's my take on the recipe:

1 measure (25ml) sugar syrup
1 3/4 measures cucumber-mint-lime juice (see below)
2 1/4 measures pressed apple juice
2 measures gin
(makes 175ml, 2 UK units of alcohol)

- Shake all ingredients over ice, strain into a martini glass. Garnish (I'd err towards something with a contrasting colour; peony petals work well, or roses later in the summer - the bar chose a pansy. Otherwise a slice of cucumber and/or a spring of mint)
- To make the juice, purée a handful of mint (I'm using apple mint and spearmint as they grow in my garden, but it makes little difference), 1/3-1/2 cucumber, and the juice of a large lime using a blender or hand-blender; pass through a fine sieve. This makes around 200ml, enough for 4 1/2 cocktails.

Admittedly, the recipe above makes a large portion - you could adjust it down to fit a smaller glass. The colour is a cloudy pale green, the taste the essence of freshness and balance. I could drink it all day, barring the price and effects of the alcohol (though I reckon a good non-alcoholic version could be made - omit the gin, and substitute good mineral water, maybe).

On price, my gin cost around £13.50, which gives 14 double measures, the apple juice £1.50 a litre (both were on special offer), the limes 28p each (you can find cheaper, though these were large and juicy, so one lime does 4-5 portions), the cucumber probably around £1, the sugar is a storecupboard ingredient (I make my own syrup as required), and the mint was free. Even buying the last two, and spending £15 on the gin it works out at around £1.50 per portion.