Real Strawberry Shortcake

 Last year, I read a delightful memoir called Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression. The author, Mildred Armstrong Kalish, relates lots of wonderful stories and makes you feel like you're sitting down for a chat with your own grandmother. Mildred's youth was filled to the brim with danger, inconvenience, hard work, strict and cheerless relatives, wonder, and simple pleasures.

Her book also delivers straight-forward, unadorned recipes for simple and delicious farm food, like how to prepare morel mushrooms or bake an applesauce cake. I made a copy of one recipe in particular, so as to be sure to make it the following spring. You see, I had never actually made a genuine strawberry shortcake until tonight- at least not the shortcake part. My mom's version of this American classic was a lower-fat version that substituted angel food cake and Cool Whip, but for some reason retained the same name.

I just fell in love with the real thing after making Mildred's recipe, which was a sort of subtly sweet biscuit with a crunchy top and heartiness that makes angel food cake pale in comparison. I hope that you will enjoy this dish too, while strawberries are still at their very best. Here are the instructions, in the author's own words. (For my personal notes, I made the dough with butter and almond milk.)

Mildred's Strawberry Shortcake

First, pick, wash, and hull two quarts of dead-ripe strawberries.

Sprinkle half a cup of sugar over the berries and set them aside while you make the dough.

In a bowl place two cups of flour, two tablespoons of sugar, one teaspoon of salt and one tablespoon of baking powder. (Grandma swore by Calumet!)

Cut in half a cup of white lard, butter, or Crisco. Use that gadget that looks a bit like a stirrup made of wires; it was designed for cutting shortening into flour. The mixture should look like very coarse cornmeal.

Add one beaten egg to two thirds cup of whole milk. Now add this to the flour in the bowl all at once and stir with a fork until the mixture is just barely moistened. This is the crucial instruction for flaky shortcake. You will ruin the whole thing if you mix thoroughly.

Using a fork, openly spread this dough into a greased eight-by-eight inch pan. Bake for sixteen minutes in a 450 degree oven until nicely browned. Remove from the oven, cool in the pan for about ten minutes and, with a fork, carefully split the shortcake horizontally.

Divide the strawberries between the layer and over the top. Slosh with great gobs of not-too-stiffly-beaten whipped cream and enjoy.

White-Chocolate-Dipped Stawberries with Citrus Sugar

I have altered the recipe below slightly. One change of note was that the original recipe calls for "good-quality chocolate". For some reason, I find it vaguely insulting to a recipe reader when it commands one to use "good-quality" of anything. I imagine some sort of Julia Child-like cook wagging a finger at me and reprimanding, "You uncivilized brute - drop that bar of Alpine White I know you were thinking of using in this distinguished recipe which is FAR too good to include a Nestle product!" I will put more trust in you than that. I will assume that you can discern the value of good white chocolate.

That said, at first glance I wasn't sure that I'd care for this recipe because let's face it - if I had the choice of whatever Sheri's Berry I wanted, it's got to be dark chocolate all the way. Still, the idea of citrus sugar intrigued me, and that's what convinced me to try this method. The first bite of my "test strawberry" was surprising - the fragrance and bright flavor of the citrus sugar was an excellent match for the mild white chocolate and the sweet berry. I never thought I would love a white strawberry as much as I did a dark one, but this is one delicious recipe, and perfect for spring.

White Chocolate Dipped Strawberries with Citrus Sugar
From Bon Appetit

2 T. sugar
1/2 tsp finely grated orange peel
1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon peel
6 oz. white chocolate, chopped
16 large ripe strawberries (washed and patted completely dry)

Line baking sheet with waxed paper. Using fingertips, mix sugar and citrus peels in a small bowl until sugar is moist. Stir chocolate in a small bowl set over a saucepan of barely simmering water until melted and smooth. Remove from over water.

Holding 1 strawberry by stem end, dip 2/3 of berry into chocolate; shake excess back into bowl. Turn berry dipped end up and sprinkle with citrus sugar. Place on prepared sheet. Repeat with remaining berries, chocolate, and sugar. Chill until chocolate sets, about 30 minutes.

A Healthier Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

There seem to be two camps when it comes to rhubarb: the anti-rhubarbites and the rhubarb fanatics. As for me, I worship the pie plant as an unparalleled rite of spring.

Around the same time each year, the little strawberry stand down the street from my parents' house opens for business, proffering their ruby gems that outshine anything found in the grocery stores. I can’t imagine any better welcome to spring than the tart firmness of rhubarb mingled with sweet soft berries in a warm crisp.

The strawberry-rhubarb recipe I have often relied upon, tempting though it was, seemed a little heavy this year. It called for two layers of white flour-based crisp, and the filling called for a mind-boggling amount of white sugar. I have been trying to reduce my sugar and refined carb intake where possible, and was sure that I could come up with a more healthy version that I would still enjoy.

A homey dish like a fruit crisp lends itself well to whole grain flours, and I felt that whole wheat and oat flours worked marvelously for the topping. For the filling, I replaced the white sugar with a little honey, some lemon zest to brighten the flavors, and some vanilla for fragrance. I added a little cornstarch for thickening, but not enough to make the texture gloppy. The resulting crisp was delightful. Instead of masking the natural flavors of the fruit with an excess sweetness, the flavors shone through. If you're a rhubarb lover, I hope you enjoy the season as much as I am right now!

A Healthier Strawberry-Rhubarb Crisp

Topping:

½ cup whole wheat flour
1/3 cup oat flour
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ tsp. kosher salt
5 T. unsalted butter

Filling:

4 stalks rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 1/2 inch slices
1 pint strawberries, trimmed and quartered
2 T. honey
1 tablespoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon lemon or orange zest
1 tsp. vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 375°.

2. In a medium bowl, combine the flours, brown sugar, oats, cinnamon and kosher salt. Cut in the 5 tablespoons chilled, diced butter using a pastry blender (or, if you don’t have one, rub the butter in with your fingers). Place the mixture in the refrigerator.

3. Grease a 9×9-inch pan. Set aside.

4. In another medium bowl, combine the rhubarb, strawberries, honey, cornstarch, zest, and vanilla. Spoon the mixture into the buttered dish or dishes. Blanket the strawberry-rhubarb mixture with the chilled topping. Bake for 40 minutes or until bubbling underneath and brown on top.

Redemption at the Church Potluck

This Sunday, our church had an informal potluck in honor of Father’s Day after the services had concluded. Having recently read "In Defense of Food" by Michael Pollen, the spread of food offerings depressed me somewhat in the sense that it seemed representative of all that is wrong with the way we eat in America today. Quantity trumps quality. Processed food reigns and we consider American cheese and white bread an acceptable sandwich. I watch as the re-heated frozen meatballs becomes the first dish to be emptied by the hungry crowd. Meanwhile, children make a grab for the sugary Twizzlers and cocoa puff-marshmallow squares for dessert. Even the veggie trays cradles sad, faded, pre-cut specimens that probably saw their best day sometime a week ago.

Then, in the middle of the table, a shining beacon of hope: Slices of our bishop’s wife’s famous homemade bread and chunky strawberry jam (possibly homemade). Now, that’s more like it! As Michael Pollen and Jamie Oliver have asserted, the hope of America’s health relies on a return to homemade, real food like our great-grandparents would have eaten 100 years ago.

Yes, I know that men and women today are busy and their priorities may not place old-fashioned acts such as making bread at the top of their to-do list. But biting into that slice of fresh bread spread with berry preserves reminded me of everything that is good about life. It showed that someone was willing to honor the fathers in our life by investing a piece of themselves and their time in the act of nourishing the body and soul.

So if you get a chance, make something from scratch this week for someone you love. Here’s a recipe for strawberry jam to help you get started thinking of the possibilities.

Fresh Strawberry Jam

Adapted from a recipe by Ina Garten

2 cups sugar
1 large lemon, zested and juiced
1 1/2 pints fresh strawberries, hulled and halved

Directions

Combine the sugar, lemon zest, and lemon juice in a small saucepan and cook over very low heat for 10 minutes, until the sugar is dissolved. Add the strawberries and continue to cook over very low heat until the strawberries release some of their juices and the mixture boils slowly. Continue to cook until a small amount of the juice gels on a very cold plate. (I keep one in the freezer.) Total cooking time may be around 40-60 minutes, but will vary.

Pour carefully into 2 pint canning jars and either seal or keep refrigerated. Use immediately, or follow proper canning guidelines to preserve them.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

Eating seasonally can be glorious in July but tedious in February. Just when I began to tire of citrus, along came this month's dark garnet strawberries and tart, slightly retro rhubarb to mark the changing of the seasons.

I am a total sucker for rhubarb. I adore the sharp tang I get when I bite into it, and I look forward to the classic combo of rhubarb and strawberries every year. For Mother’s Day last Sunday, I used a recipe I found in Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (The author includes multiple recipes for dishes she prepared using the food she and her family grew themselves for a year-long locavore experiment.)

I was a little worried because there didn’t seem to be a thickening agent in the fruit, but the rhubarb sort of melts into the strawberries and thickens up nicely. I doubled the topping because it's my mom's favorite part. Everyone liked it! If you haven’t tried rhubarb, I say: Give rhubarb a chance.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp
Adapted from Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

3 cups halved strawberries (cut large berries into thirds)
3 cups rhubarb, chopped
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice or nutmeg
1 cube unsalted butter, softened (NOT melted)

1) Preheat oven to 375ºF.

2) In a medium bowl, combine strawberries, rhubarb, and honey. Stir to coat. Pour mixture into the bottom of a 9x9-inch baking pan.

3) In a separate bowl, combine flour, oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, and allspice. Whisk together. Cut butter into smaller pieces. Add butter to flour mixture. Using a fork or pastry blender, mash butter and flour mixture until medium-sized crumbs are formed. Sprinkle crumbs evenly on top of the baking dish.

4) Bake about 45 minutes, or until rhubarb can be easily pierced with a knife. Topping should be browned and mixture should be bubbly. Remove from oven and let cool a few minutes. Serve with vanilla bean ice cream.