The Funky Kitchen

They (the great, mysterious, all knowing They) say that when you are picking out a cantaloupe you want to smell it. If the melon gives off that distinctive sweet, floral, cantaloupe smell, it is good to go and ready to eat. A person can also choose a not yet headily scented cantaloupe to leave on their counter to continue to ripen if they don’t plan on eating it in a few days.

My dear Mr was saying to me, one day as we strolled through the grocery store, that we should check the discounted produce rack for cantaloupes, because they are at their best and most tasty right when they start looking kind of questionable.

I’m fairly sure that I responded to this statement with a raised eyebrow, a little confused by his theory, but we went and checked anyway and came home with a cantaloupe that was indeed somewhat dubious looking.

It was the best cantaloupe! Teetering between ripeness and over ripe, this sweet cantaloupe was the most intensely flavored melons one I’ve come across in quite a while.

You learn something new every day, and apparently Mr knows a thing or two about cantaloupes that I don’t.

Cantaloupe Sorbet

(recipe adapted slightly from The World in My Kitchen)

3/4 Cup sugar

3/4 Cup water

1 large cantaloupe

2 Tbsp lemon juice

Directions

• Set a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the sugar and water, stirring to dissolve.
• Simmer for 10 minutes and then remove from heat and let it cool completely. (For sorbets, I like to try to make my simple syrup when I put the ice cream maker in the freezer to get cold. That way I don’t have to stand around waiting for my simple syrup to cool.)
• Cut the cantaloupe in half so that you can remove it’s seeds and peel.
• Make a puree out of the cantaloupe and lemon juice.
• Combine the simple syrup and the puree.
• Pour the mixture into your ice cream maker and allow it to churn until crystallized but not crumbly.
• Transfer the sorbet into a resealable container and freeze for a few hours so that it will harden a little more.

To make this sorbet easier to scoop, pull it out of the freezer for a few minutes before serving. The best part is that the sorbet lets the flavor of the fruit shine through really truly, it doesn’t alter the amazing natural flavors too much.

Mr says: cantaloupe sorbet is very cantaloupe-y and delicious.

My suggestion to you guys (if you’re out there, I hope you are), find some time this long weekend to get a cantaloupe of questionable character. Even if you don’t have time to make it into a sorbet, it is so worth it. A cantaloupe 30% off that tastes better than the one at regular price? There’s no way to say no!

This time last year: Beet Towers with Blue Cheese Mousse

And the year before: My First Kitchen

The first time I was kissed by a boy it smelled like cherries.  The boy in question was, at the time, chewing cherry flavored gum.

I find scents tie really strongly to memory for me, perhaps more so than the other senses.

And so, cherries bring me straight to teenage boys with mops of curly hair, a bright beach afternoon, being vaguely sunburned (though, let’s be honest, vaguely sunburned is a fact of life in summer for people as pale as myself), an awkward moment of confusion and then getting kissed.

xoxo

Drunken Cherries

2 pounds of cherries

3/4 Cup sugar

1 1/4 Cups red wine, or enough to cover

Directions

• Take the cherries and remove their stems, pit them, and cut them in half.
• Sprinkle the sugar over the prepared cherries so that they start to macerate.
• Pour the wine over the cherries.
• Cover the bowl and refrigerate at least 24 hours, mixing once in a while, so that the wine permeates the cherries and the whole bowl turns into a wonderful fruity mess.
• Serve over vanilla ice cream or nosh on them as is!

Think of drunken cherries as a really fruity sangria. The wine I used in this recipe was Bear Flag’s Smooth Red, which I find particularly delicious to drink, so of course it made for some really lovely drunken cherries. Besides being a nice, soft, fruity wine it has a label that is so much fun to look at!

Mr made me a really lovely cocktail with blood orange soda, the juice from drunken cherries and some vodka, and floated a couple of cherries in too! He’s such a sweet guy. Mr says: Do not underestimate all of the things you could do with drunken cherries. The wine as well as the cherries make the fruit flavor really intense.

What foods are really strongly tied to your memory?

This time last year: Plums Under Meringue

And the year before: Baby Potatoes with Dill and Butter

These pretty little gems take two things that are good, plums and meringue, but putting them together gives a product that is greater than the sum of their parts.

Plums, meet egg whites. It may not seem like it now, but the two of you are going to be awesome together. You’ll be a perfect couple, trust me, I’m a great matchmaker. You do need a little sugar for sweetness, but once the egg whites are whipped into shape, these two get along together swimmingly.

I find these charming to look at; the deepness of color from the half plum, topped with a burnished cloud of squidgy meringue, is so darling.

Plums Under Meringue

(adapted from Peaches Under Meringue, Gourmet Magazine)

2 plums

2 Tbsp vanilla sugar (or plain old sugar if you don’t have any vanilla sugar around)

2 egg whites

pinch of salt

Cut the plums in half, around the stone; remove the stone by loosening one end with the tip of your knife, and then pulling it out. Sprinkle a scant amount of sugar over the cut sides of the plums (~1/4 tsp each). Beat the egg whites with the pinch of salt (by arm or by mixer) until foamy. Sprinkle in the remaining sugar and continue to beat until you achieve high glossy peaks. Spoon the meringue into lofty peaks over the cut sides of the plums. Bake in a 400° oven until the meringue is a burnished golden color (4-5 minutes). Tuck in greedily.

What is extra lovely about these plums under meringue is that they feel like a dessert, but are actually pretty guilt free to snack on. That is, if you are the type to feel guilty about dessert, these are something to say yes to over and over again. I’ve never met a dessert I didn’t like, and tend to be unable to muster up guilt about having some. I imagine this methodology of spooning unctuous meringue over fruit could extend to other stone fruits easily: peaches, nectarines, apricots. Maybe even other fruits as well.

Mister says: Tangy and meringue-y, a nice summer treat.