Blood Orange Marmalade and Four Citrus Marmalade

 

This weekend I wanted to make use of blood oranges before they disappeared, so I made a bit of marmalade. Some will be given away, but the rest will be stashed.

One thing about jams and marmalades: you'll never be able to make the same batch twice. That's nature, that's variation...  some fruits may be sweeter, or juicier, some more tart, some more pithy and bitter. Things will never be exactly the same. In some ways that's too bad, but in other ways it keeps things interesting.

Marmalade is great for eating on toast, with yogurt, or even to serve with a pork roast or maybe turkey (save to doctor cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving?)- in my opinion marmalade is a nice thing to have around.

There are two recipes here, one is basically blood orange (with a bit of lemon), and the other includes four types of citrus.  I did some experimentation with amounts and techniques, and I didn't want to lose what I'd done- notes were taken, recipes were written, and now they're posted.

In the photo with two jars of marmalade, you can see a difference in color. The blood orange is obviously the more red one, and the four citrus is more orange.

When I made the blood orange marmalade, I did not end up soaking the peels. It would have made the marmalade less bitter, so it's a good tip for marmalade if you prefer less of that bitterness. 
So: after slicing, soak the orange peels for a few hours if you prefer (see the Four Citrus Marmalade recipe below for the how-to on that).

In slicing, you can make the pieces of fruit as thick or thin as you like. Use a mandoline if you would like your oranges very thinly sliced, or perhaps a food processor for the sake of speed.  I think mine were between 1 and 3 mm, obviously not exact... but they're hand cut, so we'll call it "rustic" in this instance.

And I'm sorry, but I didn't actually take into account the yield of marmalade in each batch. It'll vary a bit depending on how long it's cooked and allowed to reduce...
However, I'm going to guess two quarts with the blood orange, but it's less with the four citrus.



Blood Orange Marmalade
makes about 2 quarts

3 1/2 lb. (1580 g) blood oranges
2 c (480 ml) water
2/3 c (120 ml) fresh Eureka lemon juice 
3 c (675 g) sugar


Place a small plate in the freezer.
Start a large pot of water to boil and place jars and lids in it to sterilize. 

Wash the oranges well and cut off the ends to expose the inside. Cut the oranges into quarters and slices the ends of each quarter to remove a bit of extra pith. Thinly slice the oranges, removing any large seeds. Add the pieces of orange as well as any orange juice to a large pot. 
Add the water, lemon juice, and sugar to the pot and stir the mixture to combine. Bring the oranges to a boil over medium heat, then reduce to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the peels are cooked, the juice in the  marmalade is reduced and it passes a gel test.  To test, pull the plate out of the freezer and and place a bit of the cooked marmalade on it. Place the plate back into the freezer for a few minutes to cool it quickly, then check the consistency by pushing it with a finger to see if it wrinkles or is generally thick enough for you.  
This takes about an hour and a half (90 minutes).

Drain the hot jars one by one and ladle hot marmalade into them to about a centimeter or 1/2 inch from the top. Wipe the rims and threads with a clean, damp towel, and screw the hot lids on. 
At this point I may place the finished jars back into the boiling water for a few minutes to help sterilize further as well as clean the jars of sticky marmalade on the outside. 

Leave the jars on a counter to cool to warm, then refrigerate (I don't fully/officially can them, so the fridge in lieu of the pantry is a safety step). 
Share or save to enjoy later...

Four Citrus Marmalade

2 lb.  (about 900 g) Cara cara navel oranges
1 lb. (about 450 g) blood oranges 
2 Eureka lemons, juiced
1 Meyer lemon
1 1/2 c (360 ml) cold water
2 2/3 c (400 g) sugar


Place a small plate in the freezer.
Start a large pot of water to boil and place jars and lids in it to sterilize.
Wash the citrus well. Juice the navel oranges and slice the peels. Juice the blood oranges and slice 3 of the peels. 
Reserve the juices and place the sliced peels into a large pot of cold water. Let soak 3 hours, then remove the soaked peels to a large pot. Add the reserved orange juices, as well as the lemon juice and the sliced Meyer lemon, the water, and sugar.

Bring the mixture to a boil over medium heat, then reduce to a simmer over low. Stir occasionally, until the peels are cooked, the juice in the marmalade is reduced and it passes a gel test. To test, pull the plate out of the freezer and and place a bit of the cooked marmalade on it. Place the plate back into the freezer for a few minutes to cool it quickly, then check the consistency by pushing it with a finger to see if it wrinkles or is generally thick enough for you.   
This will take at least an hour, perhaps an hour and a half (90 minutes).

Drain the hot jars one by one and ladle hot marmalade into them to about a centimeter or 1/2 inch from the top. Wipe the rims and threads with a clean, damp towel, and screw the hot lids on. 
At this point I may place the finished jars back into the boiling water for a few minutes to help sterilize further as well as clean the jars of sticky marmalade on the outside. 

Leave the jars on a counter to cool to warm, then refrigerate (I don't fully/officially can them, so the fridge in lieu of the pantry is a safety step). 
Share or save to enjoy later...

Meyer Lemon Marmalade

The first I knew of Meyer lemons was more than 20 years ago. My older sister, who was in college in California, would periodically send boxes of them to the rest of the family in Missouri. I don't remember what we did with them, but I do remember thinking them very different than basic lemons. Perhaps even exotic.
(Now she's in Virginia, where they admittedly don't have much in the way of citrus groves, and I'm in California.)

Meyer lemons are more subtle though distinct in flavor, with a more perfume-y quality (maybe a tad grassy) than the zingy Eureka variety we normally associate with lemony-ness.  The Meyer variety, a mandarin orange and lemon hybrid, is pretty common in California.  In addition to being less acidic, Meyer lemons are generally juicier, their skin is thinner, and the segments and juice are a deeper yellow.

I was staying at a very kind and helpful friend's a for few days while she was out of town. She has a Meyer lemon tree in the back that was practically dripping with lemons, as well as a full drawer of them in the fridge, and I was encouraged me to "make some yummy things."
So along with the requisite curd, a dinner main, and some baby cakes (those last two which I HOPE to photograph and post soon), I made a batch of marmalade.
There was some quiet Saturday time in front of me, it was drizzly, and I wasn't going to go on a long exploratory walk. 

But before I got started, I also did a bit of foraging in the yard for the herbs- so interestingly, much of what was used came from right there.

It's sweet, sour, and bitter... sunny, with a tinge of a resinous herbal flavor.
The herbs, of course, are not a requirement, though I would encourage the bundle of seeds because there's pectin in seeds, which obviously will help thicken (though technically lemons in general are high in pectin and would help thicken ANY batch of jam). It can get to the thickness of something more like membrillo.

One little tip: to facilitate *actual* thin slices of lemon, you may want to use a mandoline. 
Next time I make this, I may try adding more mandarin juice- 2/3 to 1 cup maybe.

With butter on toast for breakfast, or maybe something more dense like a bagel along with cream cheese, thinly spread onto a crêpe with a dollop of whipped cream- ditto with poundcake, or as part of a cheese board (to go along with a chèvre or a triple crème brie). Versatility.


Meyer Lemon Marmalade
(makes about 4 cups)

1 3/4 lb. (about 810 g) Meyer Lemons
juice of 2 mandarin oranges (about 1/3 c or 60 ml)
2 c (453 g) sugar
1 c (250 ml) water
1 sprig of lavender
1 sprig of rosemary

Place a small plate in the freezer.
Cut both ends from the the lemons, quarter them lengthwise, and slice thinly. When you get very close to the ends where slicing becomes difficult, if a bit pithy you can slice out the bit of inside and discard the skin and pith if you choose. Remove seeds from the lemons and set aside. Combine the sliced lemons (and any juice you get from cutting), mandarin juice, and water in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Cook about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, and skimming any foam that rises to the top. Combine the lavender, rosemary, and about 1 T of the lemon seeds (visually about 1/2 of a ping-pong ball) in a few layers of cheesecloth and tie tightly. Set aside.
After the first 30 minutes of cooking the marmalade mixture, add the prepared cheesecloth bundle. Continue simmering, and occasionally stirring gently about 20-30 minutes more.
Test the thickness of the jam to see how it sets by placing a spoonful of the hot liquid marmalade onto the frozen plate. Let it cool a couple minutes, and then run a finger through it to see if the "divided" jam stays separated. If it flows back to cover the space you just cleared, it should cook longer (unless you prefer it a bit runny). If the jam looks like a good set consistency, spoon into hot, sterilized jars and cover with hot lids.
Let the jars cool a bit, then refrigerate.

Rösti

I'll start with a disclaimer: yes, the photos show the rösti to be a bit dark, but it wasn't quite as dark as it seems. Though I can cite my biggest problems as a pan that wasn't flat on the bottom (realized too late), which led to some spotty cooking, and an electric burner (of which I am not a fan).
Things are certainly not always perfect (but it still tasted good).  

 

 

But, being slightly impatient and unwilling for a do-over (since I've not posted in a while), as well as the fact that light was good and I could get some very welcome reflection off the snow in the yard at the time... I made do.

Then again, I would greatly prefer a darker and obviously crispy version to the soggy alternative.

Rösti is a Swiss fried potato dish, like hash browns or latkes, nice at any time of day and a comforting sort of thing during cold weather.
I generally serve it as a starter myself, along with crème fraîche and smoked salmon,  but one round could easily make the base of a meal for two or three people.

If you want to go all out for a special occasion, perhaps caviar?

I won't say this is a completely authentic dish as I'm certainly no authority on Swiss cooking, and, there's no cheese included in this version (though I don't know if that's a total deal breaker).

The potato mixture could be cooked in ghee, or maybe bacon fat if you have it around and prefer that additional flavor.

Rösti
serves 6-8 as a starter, 2-3 as a main

1 1/2 lb. (24 oz/680 g) Yukon gold potatoes
6 green onions, sliced
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 t (7 g) salt
1/2 t (less than 1 g, but add to taste) freshly ground black pepper
2 T (20 g) cornstarch
4 T (57 g) unsalted butter
1 T (15 g) olive oil

(possible accompaniments include: smoked salmon, caviar,  bacon, cheese, crème fraîche, dill, lemon, applesauce)


Grate the potatoes and place in a bowl of cold water. Let the potato soak 5 minutes, drain and rinse in a colander. Place the shredded potatoes in a clean kitchen towel and wring out as much liquid as possible (less liquid = crispy).

Transfer the potato to a large bowl and add the green onion. Beat the egg and extra yolk together in a bowl to combine and add to the bowl along with the salt, pepper, and cornstarch.
Stir everything together to combine well.

Heat a 10 inch skillet (well seasoned cast iron, preferably) over medium heat. Add half the butter and half the olive oil. When the butter has melted, swirl the pan to combine the oils and coat the pan. Place the potato mixture in the pan in an even layer and press down slightly to smooth the top. Cover the pan (with a lid or a sheet pan), and cook 10 minutes.

Remove the lid and loosen the potato from around the edge. Turn the rösti out onto the flat (underside) of a sheet pan and place the other half of the butter and olive oil into the hot skillet. When the butter has melted, again swirl the pan and slide the rösti, uncooked side down, back into the pan. Again, cover the pan and let cook 8-10 minutes, until browned and crispy.

Remove the pan from the heat and let set a few minutes. Turn the rösti out onto a cutting board, cut into wedges, and serve as desired. 

Rhubarb Strawberry Jam

When rhubarb season rolls around, I just can't resist.
At the very least I have to make ONE batch of jam to put away (for at least a little while). This way rhubarb can be savored much later in the year (or early the next). One nice thing about jam is that you can get a bit of that great flavor, and it doesn't disappear all at once. A jar of jam theoretically lasts longer than, say, a pie or tart might.
(And yes, I like to reuse certain jam jars for their shape and style.)

I think it's my all-time favorite confiture.
There are just a few ingredients, simple and perfect.
When I make a batch I don't really want to share, but I know its better for several reasons that I do so.

This is an updated version of a rhubarb berry jam I posted years ago.
I have this habit of making lists and notes on Post-its and misplacing them, so it behooves me to write recipes elsewhere ASAP so I don't have to do a frantic search or take the time to figure something out all over again.
Some concepts here are based on The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook by Rachel Saunders- but there is no actual rhubarb strawberry jam listed in the book.

It's a two-day project (or maybe some prep the afternoon or night before, not too much work on Day 1), and I would totally recommend the use of a kitchen scale for a recipe like this that utilizes larger amounts.

I agree that you need to let the rhubarb shine, making it the greater portion of the fruit in the recipe. Rhubarb certainly has it's own flavor, tart and distinctive. As I write, I'm trying to think of ways to describe the flavor, but am having a hard time coming up with anything...
I don't know. To me, there's something amazing about that flavor.

 

Obviously, as the jam cooks the fruit will break down, so it's a personal preference to have larger pieces of fruit to retain texture and so you really see and taste what's in the finished jam.

But, the jam is nice on plain yogurt, with pound cake, on good vanilla ice cream, as a filling for a tart, crostata, or cookies, and of course toast.

Rhubarb Strawberry Jam
makes about 8, 12 oz jars

Day 1
2 3/4 lbs. (about 1 kg and 247 g) rhubarb (*after being trimmed and sliced)
1 3/4 lbs. (about 794 g) cane sugar
2 oz (1/4 c or 60 ml) lemon juice

To add on Day 2
1 1/2 lbs. (about 680 g) strawberries, sliced if large
1 3/4 lbs. (about 794 g) cane sugar
3 oz (1/4 c plus 2 T or 90 ml) lemon juice, separated


Clean the pieces of rhubarb, cut off the top and bottom ends, and slice into 1-2 inch pieces. Weigh out 2 3/4 lbs. of the rhubarb, place in a glass container, add the sugar and lemon juice and stir to combine.
Cover tightly with plastic wrap and leave in a relatively warm place to macerate for at least 12 hours and up to 24.

When ready to make the jam, place a small plate with several spoons in the freezer (for later, to check the consistency of the jam).

Place the rhubarb along with any juices in an 11-12 qt. copper preserving pan or a nonreactive kettle. Add the strawberries, sugar, and 2 oz of the lemon juice and stir until the sugar is thoroughly combined.

Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally with a heatproof rubber spatula about 10 minutes. Raise the heat to medium-high and continue to stir occasionally.  As the jam thickens, stir more frequently, relatively constantly near the end, making sure to scrape the sides and bottom of the pan so it does not scorch. If the jam seems to get too sticky on the sides of the pan, perhaps reduce the heat a bit. Cooking time at the higher heat will take about 20 minutes depending on juiciness of the fruit and evaporation. Add the rest of the lemon juice, stir through, and continue to cook the jam for 2-3 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat (if it seems a little thin remember that it will continue to thicken as it cools), and place a spoonful of the jam on the frozen plate. Put the plate with the spoon back in the freezer for a few minutes. When the time is up, take the plate and spoon back out of the freezer and lift the spoon to see if the jam is runny. If it's watery and easily falls off the spoon, you'll need to cook it a few minutes longer and re-test the consistency. If the jam is instead thick and wrinkles a bit when you nudge it with your finger, it's finished and ready to place in glass jars.

NOTE ON JARS:
Lids should be clean and jars should be HOT and sterilized. You can use an empty dishwasher on a hot cycle, but you can boil the jars or use your oven.  If using your oven, place clean jars on a pan in a 250 F (120 C) oven for 30 minutes. Place a little jam in one of these jars and see if it bubbles or boils. If so, the jar is a little too hot and should cool off a bit before continuing.

Fill the hot jars with the finished jam, leaving about 1/4 inch space. Wipe the rims with a clean damp cloth, and screw lids on the jars. 

Jam can be left as is, to cool, or placed in that 250 F (120 C) oven for 15 minutes. 
If the oven method is used, the filled jars should be left to cool on a wire rack overnight before storing them.

Jars that have NOT been finished in the oven should be refrigerated.
Any jars that have been finished in the oven which are not completely sealed and whose centers are not convex should also be placed in the refrigerator.

Properly canned jars can last a year or two in a pantry.
Mine don't last that long (I give some away and those I keep, I usually just leave in the fridge). 

Oat and Buckwheat Crêpes

I love crêpes, and this particular version was initially a bit experimental, partially meant as a way to help use up buttermilk.

Am I the only one who buys a quart- since most of the time that's all I can find- only to use 1/2 cup or so? I'm thinking not...
The rest was using some of the things on hand.
Buckwheat, one thing I have but not something that I happen to use religiously, is somewhat earthy and a crêpe (galette) classic.
Oat flour (a favorite flour of mine, actually) add slightly sweet nuttiness.
The overall flavor seems especially nice when paired with strawberries

The results aren't bad at all, I think, so here you go.
(And basically, yes, it has so far assisted in reducing buttermilk supply, and will continue to do so when I have an excess of buttermilk. Then again, maybe I'll be purchasing buttermilk solely for this purpose.)

Crêpes are initially delicate while they're cooking- so a well seasoned pan is paramount.
And a steel crêpe pan is certainly nice, but not entirely necessary.
Note for a crêpe pan: don't let anyone scrub the finish (seasoning) off your pan that you worked to put there in the first place- it's what keeps the pan nonstick and is so much more convenient than dealing with the alternative.

If you're not used to pan swirling, you'll get a little practice here. It's a timing thing, you'll be using both hands, and you have to keep moving. But once you get into the swing of things it'll be fine.
And remember, the first crêpe or two can often be duds. No big deal. They're still edible.

My  favorite is eating the crêpes right off the heat, "failed" and torn or not, tender with crispy edges.

Folded with fresh berries and topped with whipped cream is always a good option, rolled into cigars with a bit of cinnamon sugar or a very thin layer of jam, chocolate, or lemon curd is another possibility.
The sliced banana and Nutella combination is pretty classic, too.

Crêpes Suzette is a bit more involved than the more basic crêpe I'm offering today, but also very nice.
A high-stacked crêpe cake layered with chocolate or a cream between crêpes would also be an idea.

OR, maybe omit the sugar, add a pinch more salt, and fill with cheese, sauteed mushrooms (or maybe this version instead), ham, eggs, ham and eggs... or whatever other savory things you might like.

Oat and Buckwheat Crêpes
(makes 15-20, 6 inch crepes)

1/2 c (55 g) oat flour
3/4 c (115 g) buckwheat flour
1/4 t (2 g) salt
1 T (16 g) sugar
3 large eggs
2 T (30 g) butter, melted
1/2 c (125 ml) buttermilk
3/4 c (180 ml) whole milk
1/2 c (125 ml) water, plus extra as necessary
Butter, to cook the crepes

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, salt, and sugar until well blended. Add the eggs and butter, and whisk, breaking up any lumps, until a smooth paste forms. Add the buttermilk and whisk the mixture together until incorporated. Finish by adding the milk and water into the mixture, and carefully blend to a nice pour-able batter. 
Cover and refrigerate to rest and let the flours absorb the liquid at least an hour and up to a day.

When ready to cook the crêpes, remove the batter from the fridge and place a well-seasoned pan over medium heat to warm.
While the pan heats, check the consistency of your batter, stir and then pour a bit back into the bowl. You want it to be about like a nice heavy cream- NOT glue. Add water, maybe 1 T (15 ml) at a time or so until you reach the correct consistency.

To the now-hot pan, add a bit of butter. After the butter melts and foams, swirl the pan to coat the bottom with a thin layer.

Remove the pan from the heat with your non-dominant hand and pour batter into the pan using your dominant hand, aiming for somewhere between 3 T and 1/4 c range (45-60 ml). Quickly swirl the pan to evenly distribute the batter. Place the pan back on the heat and cook a couple minutes. The top of the crêpe will appear more matte and tacky, while the edges will crisp a little and possibly pull away from the sides. Carefully slide a rubber spatula around the edge and under the center, pick the crêpe up off the pan, and flip it so the cooked side is up. Cook a further minute or two until the second side is slightly browned and the crêpe slides around on the pan easily.
(If you've found that the batter is a bit thick and doesn't flow and "swirl" properly, you'll likely need to thin the batter with a bit of water- or potentially add a bit more flour if it's too thin so it behaves appropriately.)

Slide the crêpe out of the pan and onto a plate, stack the crêpes as you go, or serving them as they are made.
Continue in the same manner to cook the remaining crêpe batter, adding a little butter to the pan, etc., and stirring the batter a bit between crêpes to make sure the batter remains fairly uniform throughout.
Serve as desired. 


NOTE/UPDATE:
I've found they work out quite well lactose-free too, if replacing both the milk and buttermilk measurements with an alternative milk. I've used unsweetened "milk" made with peas (Ripple) and had great results. Ghee can replace the melted butter- I've not tried other oils, but at some point I'd try coconut oil to make the crêpes completely dairy-free.

Peanut and Hazelnut Butter

I have been meaning to make homemade nut butter for a while now, thinking about it... but it didn't happen until just recently. I don't know why it took so long. It's relatively simple and you can have some fun with it.

This one has a bit of cinnamon and a hint of sweetness from honey. It's nice with apples, on toast, and it might be great swirled into a bowl of hot oats. Or maybe in the center of a homemade peanut butter cup? Though not really peanut butter...

Since I've made it, I've been imagining other versions I might try. Cashews processed with some coconut oil and spiked with cardamom. Pecans with apple pie inspired spices. And why not a version of Nutella- hazelnuts and cocoa powder? Of course, it might not be a bad idea to go basic and try out some plain peanut butter. I suppose I just went and jumped ahead there.

The point is that there are so many combinations that could be tried... maybe try mixing dried fruit and seeds into nut butter, bits of chocolate, coconut, different spices... start with a base and go from there!

Peanut and Hazelnut Butter
makes about 2 cups (around 500 ml amount)

1 c (130 g) hazelnuts
1 1/2 c (225 g) peanuts, without skins, dry roasted and unsalted
3 T (45 ml) honey
1/4 c (60 ml) peanut, sunflower, or another neutral oil
1 t (3 g) ground cinnamon
1/4 t (large pinch) fine sea salt

Preheat the oven to 350 F/ 180 C. Place the hazelnuts on a baking sheet and toast 8-10 minutes, shaking the pan a few times during the bake to toast evenly. Remove the pan from the oven and let cool slightly. If the hazelnuts have skins, place the nuts in a kitchen towel and rub them to remove the skins. Let the hazelnuts cool completely.
Place the cooled hazelnuts and peanuts in the bowl of a food processor. Process/pulse until the nuts resemble coarse sand. Add the rest of the ingredients. Continue to process until the mixture resembles nut butter (this will take a while- maybe up to 15 minutes total). Give the food processor a 5 minute break once or twice during this process as this is a lot of work for the machine- you do not want to burn out your food processor.
If you like it a bit smoother, sweeter, or saltier, add extra oil, honey, or salt and process to incorporate.
Remove the nut butter to a covered container and enjoy within a couple weeks.

*Yes, it is drier than standard versions of peanut butter, but I prefer to use less oil. 

Pumpkin Donuts with Cream Cheese Frosting and Toasted Hazelnuts

I don't care that it's March and spring is officially here: I could eat pumpkin anything at any time of year.
Besides, it's been a little chilly the past couple days- thus all the more reason to work on this cozy flavor.

Besides, I'm trying to only eat "fun" things that I make myself instead of purchasing them. Buying everything can just be way too easy, and this way I can also have more control over everything in the finished product.

These little devils are surprisingly light and very flavorful.
(They're also, sadly, easy to eat.)

The donuts can easily be turned into cupcakes if you haven't got donut pans. However, the baking time may need to be adjusted.

I will say that pumpkin donuts don't technically need the frosting, and in fact they're great plain.
Warm donuts could also be tossed in cinnamon sugar or confectioner's sugar if you'd prefer.
Your prerogative.

If you don't have, don't like, or can't find hazelnuts, pecans also work well.


Pumpkin Donuts with Cream Cheese Frosting and Toasted Hazelnuts
makes 12

Donuts:
8 T (114 g) unsalted butter, melted
2 large eggs
1 c (200 g) sugar
3/4 c (75 g) brown rice flour
1/3 c (42 g) quinoa flour
1 t (6 g) baking powder
1/2 t (3 g) baking soda
1/4 t (2 g) salt
1 generous t (3 g) cinnamon
1/2 t freshly ground nutmeg (too small a measurement for a regular scale- just estimate)
pinch ground cloves
3/4 c (160 g) pumpkin puree
1/2 t (small splash) vanilla extract

Toasted Hazelnuts:
1/2 c (70 g) whole hazelnuts
Cream cheese frosting:
4 oz (114 g) cream cheese, at room temperature
1/4 c (60 ml) whipping (heavy) cream
3/4 c (84 g) confectioner's sugar


Preheat the oven to 350 F/ 175 C.
Grease 2, 6-hole donut pans well with baking spray (I prefer coconut spray here).
Cream the butter, eggs, and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixture fitted with the paddle attachment a few minutes until lightened in color and texture. 
In a medium bowl, whisk together the brown rice flour, quinoa flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. 
Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and beat together until incorporated. Scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl and add the pumpkin and vanilla. Beat the mixture again for a minute until fully blended. Once again, scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl to make sure everything has been distributed throughout. Pipe the donut batter evenly into the prepared pans (or carefully spoon it in).
Bake the donuts at 15-20 minutes, or until set, lightly browned, and the donuts spring back when lightly touched.
Remove the pans from the oven and let the donuts cool/set a couple minutes in the pan before carefully running a small spatula or a dull knife around the outside circle of the donuts. Turn the pans over and tap the pans onto a rack to release the donuts. Let cool completely before frosting.

To toast hazelnuts, place the hazelnuts on a pan in the already hot oven (350 F). Toast the nuts 8-15 minutes, shaking the pan occasionally to help the nuts toast more evenly. Remove the pan from the heat and place the warm hazelnuts on a towel. Rub the hazelnuts between two sides of the towel to remove most of the skins. Transfer the skinned nuts to a cutting board and chop when cool. 

To make the cream cheese frosting, slightly cream the cream cheese over low speed in the bowl of and electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Scrape the sides of the bowl and add the whipping cream and confectioner's sugar. Cream and whip the mixture on a low speed until creamy and combined. 

Spread the frosting on the cooled donuts and sprinkle with toasted hazelnuts.

Fig and Raspberry Jam

Together figs and raspberries create a perfumey concoction bridging two seasons.
A lovely end of summer/beginning of autumn jam to make and put away for when you might need something a little different and special.

(I just love making jam whenever I get the chance.)

Cooking figs always smell like the woods to me- the woods on a crisp autumn day. There's something about the air and the crunchy leaves that have fallen from the trees that smell like figs.
Combine the fig scent with that of ripe and juicy raspberries and you have an interesting fragrance, an earthy sort of sweetness that permeates the house.

Port added near the end of cooking lends a bit of raisiny depth and helps increase the autumn-ness of this jam. It's bright, but cozy.

As I have said before when speaking of confiture, I do not actually can and process jams as they are for my use/friends/family and they go directly into the refrigerator after the jars are cool enough to handle (NOT into the cabinet to sit at room temperature since they have not been processed).

With both figs and raspberries, and being unstrained, this certainly turns out to be a seeded jam. I don't mind that though, it's real. It is what it is.

Fresh jams are always great on a piece of hearty grainy toast, a crumpet, or a warm scone.
I think this version would be especially nice with cooked with pork or served with turkey- or as part of a cheese board (perhaps along with some chevre, brie, or triple-crème?).
Stir it into yogurt.
Use it as the filling for a crostata...

Some of the technique is taken from the Blue Chair Jam Cookbook.


Fig and Raspberry Jam
makes about 10 pints

2 lb (about 910 g) fresh figs
water
2 1/2 lb (1 kg plus 130 g) raspberries
5 c (1 kg plus about 110 g) sugar 
1/4 c (60 ml) fresh lemon juice
1/2 c (120 ml) Port

Place a small plate and 4-5 spoons in the freezer to later check the jam consistency.

Remove the stems and cut the figs into eights (or into 12 pieces if larger), place in a large saucepan and cover with about 1/4 inch of water. Cover the pan with a lid and heat the figs over medium high heat until the mixture comes to a boil. 

Meanwhile, place the raspberries and sugar in a large bowl to macerate and set aside.

Once the fig mixture boils, stir and reduce the heat to low. Re-cover and let simmer 5 minutes, then mash the figs with a potato masher to reduce everything to a juicy pulp. Cover again and let the mixture cook 20-30 minutes, until the figs develop a soft and mushy consistency and the mixture is relatively uniform (mashing and stirring every 5 minutes or so).

Pour the raspberry and sugar mixture into the pan of fig puree and stir to combine. Add the lemon juice. 

Pour the fruit and sugar mixture into a preserving pan or wide, nonreactive pan.  Bring to a boil over high heat and then reduce the heat to a simmer, stirring every now and then to keep the jam for scorching on the bottom of the pan. After about 10 minutes of simmering, add the Port and stir though. Continue simmering and stirring 15 minutes more, then check the consistency of the jam by taking a spoonful in one of the frozen spoons. Place the spoon and plate back in the freezer about 3 minutes to re-chill, while continuing to cook the jam on the stove. 

Remove the spoon and plate from the freezer and tip the jam from the spoon. If it falls thickly and slowly from the spoon, it's a good jam consistency. If it's still quite liquid, cook longer and check in the same manner every 5 minutes or so. 

When the jam has reached the desired consistency, remove the pan from the heat, fill sterilized jars with hot jam, and screw (or clamp) the lids on. 
*At this point process as desired if you would like you jam to be shelf stable.
  

Let the jars sit at room temperature until you're able to handle them easily then place the jars in the refrigerator.

Jam should last at least a month and up to several if kept refrigerated. 

Muesli

Muesli (or "let your breakfast do some of it's own work") makes a hearty first meal of the day.
It's relatively simple and practically no-cook. In fact, any of the actual cooking isn't completely necessary for success. However, the purpose of cooking in this case is strictly flavor enhancement (so, we have to admit that these extra steps are beneficial).

Like any bowl of oatmeal, you can dress it up however you like, this is just my version. The variations are practically endless.

But you'll definitely want to use old fashioned oats for their texture.
There will probably be a general lack of appeal if rolled oats are used because rolled oats = mush.

The longer the muesli sets, the more liquid is absorbed and the thicker it becomes. No worries if you don't like things too thick- you can always add milk prior to eating breakfast. There are no rules against that. Another benefit to letting muesli rest is that the flavors meld better when the time is taken. Although it's cold, the muesli ends up tasting like a muffin (though it must certainly be better for you).

Toasting the oats ahead of time gives them a nice nuttiness. If you turn your back and they toast themselves a little too dark, it may well be that all is not lost. They could, in fact, just be deeply toasted and will add some nice flavor to the mix. Of course, it all depends on your personal sensitivities. Just like in the world of toasted bread, there are some who like their toast extremely toasted, while others prefer more of a whispered suggestion of heat that in the end turns out to be... bread. Plain. Old. Bread.
Why are there people out there who eat un-toasted, not-even-the-slightest-bit-warm bread and call it toast?
(So, I love toast. The real kind of toast. Due to this fondness, I believe I could never give it up permanently. Pasta, yes, but not toast.)

As far as this recipe goes, I think pears and almonds make a nice combination. And really, as they do so often, the toasted almonds are what make it what it is. There's just something great about toasted nuts.

Pear and Toasted Almond Muesli 
serves 1

1/2 c rolled oats (GF if you like)
1/2 c (125 ml) milk
1/2 medium pear, ripe but firm, unpeeled and grated 
1 T (15 ml) maple syrup (or to taste)

scant 1/8 tsp cinnamon (or as you prefer)

small splash of vanilla extract

pinch of salt

To serve:

1 small handful almonds, toasted and chopped
Yogurt, as desired.

Toast the oats gently in a dry, heavy pan, just until they smell nutty and color slightly. 
In a medium-sized bowl, combine the toasted oats, milk, grated pear, maple syrup, cinnamon, vanilla, and salt. Stir well and place in a covered container.  Refrigerate at least an hour and up to overnight.

When ready to serve, add the almonds and yogurt.