Winter-Fruit-and-Walnut Crisp
Each kitchen has its own unique aroma. When I was young, my mother's tiny yellow kitchen in the apartment she and my father rented near the harbor was redolent with the spicy scents of ginger and cinnamon.
It was that kitchen that came to my mind as I sampled the first bite of my walnut crisp filled with winter fruit drenched in Calvados.
The taste was rich and sweet and layered, which is what I intended. It reminded me of the inside of my mother's spice drawer, or a photograph in a shelter magazine showing a kitchen filled with pine boughs and pewter.
It is entirely my invention, in that I did not seek inspiration anywhere but my own cupboard, intent on using up what I had on hand. There is nothing extraordinary about it - except the taste!
Winter-Fruit-and-Walnut Crisp
For the topping:
Place chopped fruit in bowl and toss. Drizzle with Calvados. Add vanilla, fructose and cinnamon and toss again. Place in greased 8-by-8-inch baking pan.
In a second bowl, mix chopped walnuts, flour and brown sugar mix. Cut in butter and blend until mixture resembles coarse meal. Pour topping over fruit.
Bake in preheated 350-degree oven for about 30-40 minutes, until topping turns deep golden brown. Cool for 20 minutes before serving.
Even my husband liked it.
It was that kitchen that came to my mind as I sampled the first bite of my walnut crisp filled with winter fruit drenched in Calvados.
The taste was rich and sweet and layered, which is what I intended. It reminded me of the inside of my mother's spice drawer, or a photograph in a shelter magazine showing a kitchen filled with pine boughs and pewter.
It is entirely my invention, in that I did not seek inspiration anywhere but my own cupboard, intent on using up what I had on hand. There is nothing extraordinary about it - except the taste!
Winter-Fruit-and-Walnut Crisp
- 1/2 cup dates, chopped
- 1/3 cup raisins
- 1/2 cup dried cranberries
- 4-5 apples, chopped
- 1-2 small red pears chopped
- two tablespoons Calvados
- one teaspoon vanilla
- three tablespoons sugar
- dash or two cinnamon
For the topping:
- 3/4 cup chopped walnuts
- 1/2 cup whole wheat or graham flour
- 1/2 stick or more cold butter
- three tablespoons brown sugar
Place chopped fruit in bowl and toss. Drizzle with Calvados. Add vanilla, fructose and cinnamon and toss again. Place in greased 8-by-8-inch baking pan.
In a second bowl, mix chopped walnuts, flour and brown sugar mix. Cut in butter and blend until mixture resembles coarse meal. Pour topping over fruit.
Bake in preheated 350-degree oven for about 30-40 minutes, until topping turns deep golden brown. Cool for 20 minutes before serving.
Even my husband liked it.
Comments
My semester has been an adventure--so very busy and full of adjustments and transitions. I couldn't ask for a more supportive group of colleagues! Thanks for asking:)
Since I haven't done much cooking lately, my cupboards are full of things that must be used up.
And I love rustic apple tarts!
Regarding kitchen aromas, a friend of one of our daughters, visiting from St. Louis, once proclaimed that the cabinet where we store our spices smelled just like the spice shop in the wonderful Soulard Farmers Market in St. Louis.
Lydia, a part of me believes a successful baker truly bakes from scratch - not necessarily with recipes. I guess it's that cooking from the heart I talked about 10 months ago.
Plus the smell of spices in the kitchen - in our case it's the whole house!
In my kitchen, there is always pot pouirri or a candle to make up for it...
One of my best friends in HS had a kitchen that always smelled of garlic. Strongly of garlic, they must have eaten it everything. To this day when I find myself chopping a lot of garlic I think of that long-lost friend and wonder how she's doing.
My grandmother's kitchen always smelled like beer to me. We frequently were there for summer cookouts with the standard brats boiled in beer. That's the smell I associate most with her house.
We had some neighbors whose kitchen had a sausage-y smell. I liked it.
And my mother and grandmother always said that Swedish kitchens smelled of freshly brewed coffee.
I'm still a real novice, compared to the rest of you...