blueberry-apricot preserves

After having thought that apricots were gone for the season, I found some at a farmers' market on Saturday. In my zeal, I purchased more than I'd eat in a week, so I deciced to make a jam with them and some delicious Michigan blueberries. Apricots and blueberries complement each other wonderfully here.

This is a basic jam recipe: I used 1 lb. apricots, ½ lb. blueberries, and 1 lb. sugar. I cooked this with the kernels of about half of the apricots, wrapped in cheesecloth for easy removal (break the pits by tapping them with a hammer whilst wrapped in a towel, as I did for this tart). I added the zest and juice of a lemon partway through. I cooked this until 220º (F), and once it would jell on a saucer that had been kept in the freezer, I removed the apricot kernels, ladled the preseves into jars, and processed them in a hot water bath for 12 minutes.

rhubarb-apricot-peach crisp

I don't know that I've seen apricot and rhubarb in season at the same time before, but the combination of them with Saturn (doughnut) peaches yields a wonderfully tart and delicious crumble. The fruit was tossed with mace, tapioca flour and turbinado sugar; the topping is butter, almond and wheat flours, sugar, salt, and cinnamon.

crisp

As we approach the end of sour cherry season, here's a cherry-almond-apricot crisp.

the glory of the apricot

Harold McGee, in On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen, explains that the "almond" flavor that one expects—and doesn't find in almonds—is benzaldehyde, which is found in bitter almonds and other stone fruits. Unfortunately, the kernels of stone fruits contain both benzaldehyde and cyanide, so they are illegal in the United States—"Our safe 'sweet' almond varieties lack both the bitterness and the characteristic aroma."

I generally make frangipane tarts with almonds and almond extract, but this time I made an apricot-frangipane tart studded with Rainier cherries, and I added two raw apricot kernels (ground up with the almonds and sugar) instead of almond extract (to a three-cup frangipane batch). The apricots were skinned (by blanching) to keep the frangipane from pulling away from the fruit.

The difference was noticable: the tart has a wonderful aroma (it may not be my most beautiful, but the crust was beautifully flaky and it was my most delicious) and the flavor was far superior. I'm not advocating eating apricot kernals in large quanity, certainly, but a couple go a long way. Just wrap the pit in a towel, place on a hard surface (stone, or concrete) and tap with a hammer—voilà: a better frangipane.

frangipane apricot tart

The farmers market near my house has had the most wonderful stone fruits from Michigan; last week was sadly the final week of sour cherries so my caneton Montmorency fantasy will have to be fulfilled next summer as the last few weekends have been oppressively humid and the idea of roasting a duck in such conditions was less than desirable (meanwhile, I have some sour cherries saved in rum and others in Luxardo, which should make for some great late-summer cocktails). I decided to make a frangipane tart; above is the prep for a basic flaky pastry, which doesn't need to be pre-baked as the frangipane — a divine almond-butter-egg mixture — bakes into a cakelike consistency and the excess butter drains nicely out of the false-bottomed tart pan (and hopefully not onto the floor of your oven).


Setting up the tart I almost wished that I had made a fresh tart with pastry cream as the color was so vivid. The plums were very ripe, a rich vermilion, and the apricots were perfectly firm and smooth.


I glazed the tart with apricot jam; the upper edges of the apricots are perfectly caramelized and the frangipane firm but moist.