SFist in the Kitchen: Apricots
We have been eagerly tasting apricots on our farmer's market forays, waiting for them to go from tart and unpleasant to juicy and sweet. Someday soon, we knew. Saturday wasn't promising until we stopped by the Frog Hollow booth. Emissaries from the stand were offering samples to the throngs of tourists at the Ferry Plaza. One bite of the heavenly apricots, and we dived into the palace of produce to get more.
We love these compact golden orbs, whose ancestors travelled from China to the Middle East to Spain to California. The exception is the prince, or perhaps duke, of apricots, the Blenheim, which first appeared in the Duke of Marlborough's palace in 1830. We could never give an elegy for this variety that would surpass the love letter written by kick-ass chef, eloquent blogger, and SFist reader Shuna Lydon. Go, read it. We'll be here when you get back.
Pictures by Melissa Schneider
Engage the Expand-o-Tron for more.
But for all the years we've spent biting into the fleshy fruit, we never knew about the poisonous secret in its heart. The brown, wooden kernel in the center harbor an off-white seed, the noyau, that the tree protects with a cyanide-generating enzyme. But roast the kernels for 10-15 minutes in a 350° oven, crack them open with the light tap of a hammer, roast the bare, almond-like seed in the oven for a few more minutes, and they're safe to eat. It's like the blowfish of the fruit world. We ate one and suffered only a mild dizziness before we passed out for an hour. Nah, just kidding. We were fine. The little seed doesn't just look like an almond; it exudes an intense almond-extract aroma that can be infused into liqueurs, custards, and cookies. Yum.
Of course you can use apricots in cobblers and the like. They're like little peaches in that regard. But we split them open, pulled out the kernel, saw the little dimple in the center, and decided to poach the halves in an inexpensive Sauternes before stuffing those cute little cavities with a Frangelico-laced mascarpone. Serve these treats with that most decadent of dessert wines, a Hungarian Tokaji Aszu (look for 5 or 6 puttonyos on the label). Apricots can work well in savory dishes—lamb stew with dried apricots is a common combination—and we made an apricot sauce for pork loin by mixing puréed apricots with chicken stock and reducing until it was thick and tangy. We drank an Alsatian Riesling with this dish, but next time we'll reach for a Gewurztraminer from the same area.
But the first thing we did with the armful of apricots? Made jam, inspired by Chez Panisse Fruit. The season is short, and we wanted to make sure we had apricot goodness for the coming months. Mix two parts apricot slices with one part sugar and let sit for half an hour or so. Cook over high heat with a few fate-tempting noyaux. Skim the light foam as the mixture cooks, and once the bubbles become thick and syrupy, put a little onto a plate in the freezer to see how it gels. Once it looks good, ladle into sterilized glass jars and seal in a water bath.
Recipe: Sauternes-poached Apricots with Frangelico Mascarpone and Sauternes Caramel (makes 4 stuffed apricots)
For the Frangelico Mascarpone: Buy one tub of mascarpone. Scoop into a bowl and whisk until creamy. Add 1/2 tsp. Frangelico (hazelnut liqueur) and whisk into mascarpone. Taste mixture. Continue adding and whisking Frangelico until mascarpone has a subtle nuttiness.
For the poached apricots: Wash and halve two apricots. Remove the kernel. Buy a half-bottle (375ml) of a good but inexpensive Sauternes (in a pinch, Bonny Doon's Vin de Glaciere will probably work as well). Pour into a small saucepan, and bring to a boil. Add the apricot halves to the pot and reduce heat to medium, so that Sauternes lightly bubbles. Poach until tender, about four minutes. Remove apricot halves with a slotted spoon, and set aside. Keep warm.
For the caramel: Reduce the liquid in the pot by half. Add enough sugar to make it thick, roughly 1/4 to 1/3 cup. Stir to dissolve sugar. Turn up heat, and continue to reduce until mixture becomes thick with big bubbles. Let cool until mixture is thick and drizzles off a fork in steady lines.
To plate: Place one apricot half onto a small plate. Scoop mascarpone mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a star tip, and pipe mascarpone into apricot in a vertical spiral. Drizzle caramel over mascarpone.