Au Currant(s)

Wondering how to eat the berry of the season? The berry all the celebrities are raving about*? Over the weekend, I used a quart of red currants for three different dishes.



First, currants served as a garnish for Mark Bittman's fluffy pancakes from How to Cook Everything. Though they are too tart for some to enjoy raw, I think the sweetness of the syrup cut their tartness just enough that even currant newbies could enjoy them this way. Dan added lemon zest to the pancake batter, which complimented them nicely.



I also made a rhubarb and red currant tart using a recipe from The Paris Kitchen. I used this alarmingly simple (just watch the screamingly hot bowl) French tart dough recipe method recounted by David Lebovitz. I doubled the sugar in the tart recipe when I realized that it was described as "savory." I wanted something sweet and tangy, not savory. That was a good move. It was still very tart, which I like. I also found that it needed only 40-45 minutes to bake, which worked out well because any longer would have burned the tart crust.

You know how there are a zillion recipes online for strawberry-rhubarb pie? I love rhubarb, but I've always railed against pairing it with the traditional strawberry. I just don't think that baking it with strawberry adds much in terms of flavor or texture. Currant, on the other hand, gives the sour fruit more dimension (says I) and it only becomes a bit softer with baking, so there's still something in the pie or tart on which to chew. Rhubarb is also good with sour cherries, and I've always wanted to try baking rhubarb with cranberry, but don't forget that it's swell on its own.

I have now officially typed the word "tart" too many times. Where's my thesaurus?



Finally, after sharing a few raw handfuls with my 15-month-old, who apparently is as big a fan of currants as I, the remaining berries went into Ina Garten's fruit salad with limoncello recipe. I also used this week's CSA strawberries and blueberries, as well as a few bananas. Without the time (or multiple lemons) to make my own lemon curd (though I've done it in the past and recommend it), I mixed the yogurt topping with a spoonful of lingonberry preserves. This is an excellent summer dessert, side, or breakfast (I tested it three times, of course).

Currants! They're so now! They're so trending! They're so sassy! They're so you.

*Celebrity raves and currant trends may be fictional. I've loved currants since finding them growing on a bush near my childhood home in Dubuque, Iowa. A previous resident must have planted them, and I loved the novelty of being able to eat something right off a plant in my backyard, as well as their sharp, fruity, almost bitter flavor. I think I may also have enjoyed that they look a bit like they'd be poisonous.

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Oh, yeah -- I ate these, too.

Sour, gummy mushrooms, anyone?!

Not bad.

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Two Times the (Bottlecaps) Lady

Both Tia and Angela sent me Bottlecaps in snack samplers this year. I think that means I am eating them by popular demand.

I'm generally more of a SweetTart or Smarties girl. Bottlecaps trend sweeter than sour and I prefer the latter most of the time. Still, these bring back fond memories of childhood Halloweens and buying candy at the corner drugstore (which was a Revco, in case you were wondering). Plus, purple tastes like soda pop and orange tastes like Tang!

Key Lime Time

I bought a bag of Key Limes on a whim, but Key Lime Pie seems such an "easy" answer. Today's snack was Coconut Banana Bread with Key Lime Glaze (recipe here).

A mildly extreme, quietly screamin' dill pickle pre-breakfast snack:

Here's what you call an impulse buy. We were in a bodega getting cash from an ATM when my well-trained eye spotted these Pringles EXTREME Screamin' Dill Pickle Potato Crips. I didn't just want them. I needed them.

I thought it would make for a good weblog entry to eat these with ice cream, as a tribute to all the pregnant ladies out there (even though I don't know anyone who actually ate pickles and ice cream together while pregnant - or who will admit to it, I suppose).

But I ate too much on Friday, so I'm staying away from the ice cream for at least a few more hours.

Twist my arm, why don't you, and ask me what I ate, already! I think "food diaries" are indulgences too often used for obsessive dieting, but I am proud of the champion eating day I had yesterday.

Brunch at 10:30 am (this meal must be begun before noon. Friends, contrary to what people in New York City seem to think, if you are eating a meal between noon and 9 am it cannot be called "brunch." It's all about the timing. A mimosa and home fries does not a brunch make) marked my first meal at Five Leaves. I devoured all but one piece of toast (it came with four!) in the Big Brekkie -- 2 eggs any style (I chose "over easy"), a whopping portion of home fries (perfect crunch and creaminess, as well as nice rosemary flavor, but could have used more "crunchy bits," or fond), rough-hewn toasted bread, and two sides of my choice (avocado and sautéed mushrooms for me). I also had a bite of Dan's Blat sandwich (Bacon, lettuce, avocado, tomato) and a fry. Wowie zowie.

I couldn't eat again for hours (except for a few pickle Pringles I just had to try), but managed to stuff myself with a "small" (not that small) popcorn-and-Milk-Duds at the movie theater around 5:30pm (By the way, people, please throw away your trash at the end of the movie. There's no reason to leave bags and cups and napkins and trash all over the seats and floor. It's just rude). I also ate some peanut M&Ms there.

My movie-going compatriots then insisted on BBQ at Georgia's, where I had tasty and inexpensive BBQ wings and a superlative lemonade, a few bites of perfect, tangy potato salad, and several modest spoonfuls of 'Nilla Wafer and banana pudding (which is a dessert I adore).

Then I went home and felt sick. And now I am eating more pickle-y Pringles before breakfast on a rainy Saturday. I have a potluck to look forward to this evening, where I plan to overeat. I have learned nothing.

Oh! You want to know how the Pringles taste? They are sour, yes, and a bit salty, but there is something missing (coincidentally, that's also how I feel about the photo heading this post). The scent does make my mouth water a bit (I think that's the citric acid), and the flavor leaves my tongue tingling. They're not extremely "extreme," but that smell and afterburn do scream dill pickle. The last few crunches of each chip are almost bland, though. What's that about?

UPDATE: it turns out yesterday was National Pickle Day. Talk about serendipitous snacking!

The crabby still snack.

Temper your next not-so-sunny mood with oil of lemon and Yellow 5 Lake.



Glancing at the shape, I thought this package was going to contain some sort of gum, but inside are "mints." That's what it says on the wrapper. They don't taste"minty," though. These are slightly chalky, milky yellow (with brown speckles), lemon flavored thin wafers (a little thinner and smaller than a Scrabble tile, perhaps).



They taste like essence of lemon bar and chew easily if one tires of sucking on them. They will be cheerful even when you are not.

My tongue hurts.

My top 5 sweet-and-sour-make-your-tongue-burn candies of the moment:
1. Chewy Spree
2. Sour Patch Kids
3. SweeTARTS (But you know what almost ruined SweeTARTS for me? Trying to navigate the Wonka website.)
4. Giant Pixy Sticks
5. Lemonheads



Two days ago I ate a small roll of SweeTARTS found at work. I'd never seen this size before. Looks like somebody's jumping on the Smarties bandwagon. In the middle of eating them, while enjoying the cursive script of the "Swee" etched into each candy, Jeff offered me a Sour Patch Kid.

It was like being punched in the tongue while it was already bleeding - but with a fist of sour deliciousness.

Snapshot Review: Deep River Snacks Salt & Vinegar

Progo and I have a new favorite salt and vinegar potato chip. The slices are thick and crunchy; the flavor is like sour, biting velvet. That's a good description of the cat, too. But I hope not me.

Business Snack Revisited

Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers beat the pants off of Trolli Squigglers. I ate five, I think, and didn't even care what flavor(s) they were supposed to be.



Tip: Water should be your beverage with these. Anything else fights with the worm.

Adventures in advertising

When I see "Now with xx% less fat!" on a package, I always wish I'd gotten to try the original full-fat variety. Because what if the situation is like that of 3 Musketeers bars, which are nowhere near as good as when they had more fat? These Nik Naks (sent from the UK) claim that although they contain "50% less saturated fat than in 2005" they still have the "same great taste." I wonder.

Another claim on the packaging is: "Nice 'N' Spicy Flavour Knobbly, Freaky Sticks of Corn." I assume that this means that Nik Naks come in other flavors.

Me? I'd say this one is better described as "Not Bad Sweet 'N' Sour Flavour Knobbly, Freaky Sticks of Corn-Flavored Foam." There's a slight onion flavor under the vinegar sour-sweet coating, and the texture is that of a lighter-weight Cheeto. But they're maybe more "loosely inspired by corn" (like Capitaine Achab, the odd little French film I saw last night at Lincoln Center, was "loosely inspired" - or some such wording in the credits - by Moby Dick).

I might eat these again, but overall I prefer NicNacs.


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p.s. In other snacking news, we've been eating a whole wheel of cheese at work. Seems to be cheddar. Yum. And today Wendy brought two kinds of brownies (which reminds me, the name "No Pudge" embarrasses me as much as the idea of a no-fat brownie offends me, but I have made them myself in desperation - once, it was the only mix in the store - and the brownies are actually pretty good), while Caitlin returned from a trip with assorted See's chocolates.

Reach for the stars

Wowza. Spacey Tracy makes a nice pickle.

This jar of Spacey Tracy's Garlicky Dill Pickles (made in Rhinebeck, NY) was part of a thanks-for-cat-sitting gift from Ian and Christa. I am enjoying their bright, sharp flavor; peppercorn and apple (from apple cide vinegar) tang; and ultimate strong, garlicky finish. The spears are crisp and crunchy, too.

I have never been able get my ponytail as high and sassy as it is pictured on Ms. Spacey, but I think I'm spirited enough to deserve this perky pickle. Dare I dream of trying one fried?

Fruchtgummi

Haribo Saure Pommes (Extra Sauer)

Procured in Vienna, these are sour gummy Belgian fries with grainy sugar coating them. The five colors have different flavors, but they all taste reminiscent of gummy grapefruit pieces to me. My flavor guesses are:

Yellow: grapefruit/lemon flavor
Green: grapefruit/lime
White: grapefruit/ pineapple
Red: grapefruit/cherry
Orange: orange (tastes least like grapefruit)



The fries are shaped like trapezoids -- so different sides have different thicknesses, which adds to the illusion of their being hand-cut -- and they "give" easily upon being bitten into. They seem softer than some gummy products. I enjoyed them a lot, but would be more likely to call them "sour" than "extra sour." The sugar on the outside of the fries is not as rough as on other sour gummy items. And I like the novelty of the Belgian fry design. If only I were eating them out of a paper cone.

Eaten while listening to: Isobel Campbell's album Milkwhite Sheets. I wish she'd added a little more sour to her sweet.

D: "These taste fresher."
J: "Than what?"
D: "Than American gummis. Don't you think?"
J: "Mmm."

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Idea: salty gummis

Wows.

Sour cherries + rhubarb make strawberries + rhubarb cry with shame at knowing themselves the lesser couple. The former are the guys you want to hang out with. They're the pair you know has a thousand inside jokes (but not in a superior way) and wear each other's clothes in really interesting combinations and are the perfect dinner companions and never stay angry for long. You know you'll celebrate sour cherries + rhubarb's 50th anniversary someday with an awesome pool party and sparkling lemonade drinks and witty music, while strawberries + rhubarb might invite you over to stand looking off into other people's lawns or sit on their slightly uncomfortable chairs and watch by-then incredibly old episodes of America's Funniest Home Videos (with the sound off, at least; they're not all bad) and drink beers and not talk to each other and you'll all be wearing boring shoes.

Mum's the curd

Shhh! Don't tell anyone how easy it is to make your own lemon curd. I found this recipe on a granulated sugar box.

1/2 c. butter or margarine
1 c. granulated sugar
1 tsp. grated lemon peel
1/3 c. fresh lemon juice
1 large egg

Put the butter in a microwave-safe bowl. Melt butter on high for 45 to 60 seconds. Whisk in the sugar, lemon peel, and juice. Then add the egg and whisk until blended. Microwave on medium high (I chose power level 7 out of 10) for 2 to 4 minutes, stirring two or three times during this time. It should thicken a little. Serve warm or cool. It will thicken further as it cools.

Lemon curd is delicious served on pound cake, ice cream, scones, or a slice of homemade zucchini bread!



Yes. Zucchini bread. I made some for the tea party and revisited it today. The zucchini, fresh from the farmers' market, were quite nice, but the bread's the thing. While possibly not as amazing as my mom's zucchini bread (fondness and nostalgia may sweeten that memory), my slice was an excellent vehicle (good crumb, smooth and subtle flavor, evenly baked) for a citrusy condiment. The sweet-sourness of lemon curd topped it perfectly.

Pickle Puss

I've hinted at my affection for cornichons, but I didn't go into it then. I have a deep, abiding love for these little pickles. Just thinking about them makes my mouth water.



A dill, a sweet, a bread-and-butter, or a watermelon rind pickle won't always do it. Some days I need a handful of these tiny, sour, crisp gherkins -- brilliant, intense, and brightly acidic.

No pâté necessary.


p.s. There's also something about food in miniature that appeals to me. Can't you see Hunca Munca in the doll house nibbling on one of these?