Growing Up

It’s finally here—strawberry season. Oh, how deliciously sweet the first fruits of the year taste. I look forward to the boxes of brilliant red nuggets as they truly signal the change of seasons that no calendar, stars, or sports offer. But this year I tried something new for the first batch of berries to show up at market. It was time for strawberry shortcake to grow up.

Maturity began with a tub of ricotta that was going out of date. If you know where my stand is at the market, you know where the ricotta came from.  That’s one of the perks of being a vendor; less grocery shopping. Over the years in this blog I’ve pointed out all the culinary delights one can find at the market when choosing to eat locally and seasonally, like ramp and strawberry vinaigrette for all the tender spring greens also in full force right now.

But my sweet tooth had been aching for something different than the usual shortcake biscuits or worse, the yellow dimple cakes that come six to a cellophane package usually stacked in the produce isle at the big box stores. Cool Whip? Absolutely not. Whipped cream in a can? Only if I’m desperate. The Kitchen Aid was invented for a reason and homemade whipped cream is definitely one of those reasons. Even the vanilla bourbon tinged dollops of decadence weren’t on my radar this year. I was going all out with a batch of homemade crème fraiche.

Crème fraiche has two ingredients and is very simple to make. A quart of good cream, not that ultra-pasteurized stuff with stabilizers like carrageenan, but that will still work if that’s all you can find. Occasionally one can find fresh cream at the market, but insanely archaic and ultra-restrictive FDA regulations prevent farmstead creameries and small scale dairy processors from separating cream from their milk. The second ingredient is cultured whole milk buttermilk which can be challenging, as well as to locate thanks to those same pesky regulations that prevent real buttermilk from being bottled and sold. Today, what you’ll find is whole milk that has been inoculated with a culture that ferments the milk the same way European creameries ferment their cream prior to churning into butter. This accomplishes two things. First, it imparts taste to the butter, but more importantly, it aides with preservation. Remember, cheese is also cultured milk and you know how long that can last in the deli drawer of the refrigerator.

I use a vintage 2-quart crock jug with matching lid, a little souvenir from my time in the restaurant industry. It was my job to make crème fraiche for blini and caviar. A glass jar will also work. Plastic is a no-no.  Add a quarter cup of buttermilk to the container and then pour in a quart of cream doing your best not to splash it up the sides of the container. Cover (not tight, it needs to breathe) and let set in a warm spot for a few days until aromatic and thick. Remember, those little culture bugs…er, bacteria, are working hard to sour and thicken the cream into a tangy delight that needs no added sugar. Speaking of preservation, that’s another benefit of cultured cream—it lasts much longer than plain cream, although I never worry about my crème fraiche going bad because it never lasts too long, especially during fresh berry season. There’s always something to add it to, like my new favorite for strawberry pairing this year: Italian Lemon Ricotta Cake.

This is one of those recipes that have been printed out and slid into the spice cabinet so I don’t have to go googling it each year. It’s nestled beside the Original Plum Torte recipe I’m glad I printed out before the New York Times started charging extra on top of their regular subscription for the Cooking Section and the West Virginia Ten Day Sweet Pickle recipe from a customer who gave me a pint at market. I never liked sweet pickles, but the jar was empty by the time I got home.

When I first saw the recipe, the image of a golden slice topped with fresh strawberries and crème fraiche instantly popped into my head, but there had not been berries at the market. To call in the spirit of the ripe strawberry gods I went ahead and baked it because my tub of ricotta needed to be used. The mojo must have worked because that week the strawberries showed up.

The recipe is a good one, but since the ricotta at the market comes in 16 oz tubs, I tossed in the whole thing. What’s an extra ounce? Another little change I made with a market goodie absolutely set this recipe on fire. The recipe called for vanilla extract, but I was out so I tossed in a shot of Kent Cob Hazelnut Whiskey from Butterfly Spirits. Supporting other vendors is important to me so when I spied this one Sunday I thought it might be a nice libation to sip by the fire. But I’ve ended up baking with it more than drinking it and ooh la la, what it did to the lemon ricotta cake was divine.

So if you’re tired of the same old ho-hum strawberry shortcake, remember, it doesn't have to be that way when you shop at the farmers market for more than fresh fruit.