Pretty soon there won’t be much fresh fruit to rave about. I’m looking forward to quinces, Bosc and Bartlett pears and of course apples all winter long, but while they’re still available, I’m eating plums. The late-season varieties have an intensity of color and sweetness that is like the farewell kiss of a summer romance. There’s no better way to showcase them than in a simple crumble. The fruit is the star, and you can accentuate its flavor by imbuing the crunchy topping with some subtle complements. For plums, I like to add a little almond and cardamom. (I know, I put cardamom in everything, but it really does go so well with plums!)

purple reigns

Use perfectly ripe plums that are not mushy. It’s nice to use a mix. Toss them with a little honey and some port before layering them in a casserole or pie pan. You could also add some orange zest, fresh grated ginger, even a little marmalade or jam of any kind.

this dessert comes together easily with just a few ingredients

I use organic rolled oats for my crumble topping. These are less processed than quick oats. You can also use flour of various sorts, as well as chopped or ground nuts, or all of these in combination.

dance of the sugared plums

ready to crumble?

You can make extra of this topping and keep it in the freezer; that way your next crumble is an even faster experience. You simply add pieces of butter to the sugar, oats and nuts and pinch it with your fingers to form those lovely clumps. For this version, I used the gluten-free flour mix from Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Bakery.

ready to get baked

The extra-large crystals from turbinado sugar add a glistening, golden crunch that I happen to love.

fresh from the oven

The only thing that improves a warm bowl of this is a dollop of crème fraîche, whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Any leftovers make an ideal breakfast served with a little Greek yogurt. It’s plum perfect.

Mark Bittman posted one of his great roundups of recipes in the Times Magazine this weekend, featuring less-expected ways to eat apples. I’m particularly taken with the cheesy apple fritters and that apple tempura! I’m prone to tossing diced apple into lots of salads—with oil-cured tuna, with walnuts and blue cheese, with all kinds of herbs. And when I make oatmeal, I always grate an apple into the pot. This really supports good digestion. We have a big old apple tree on our property at the lake, and it’s covered with mottled green fruit that looks dubious but tastes great. Our friend Julia up the road has an orchard of craggy old trees that produce a lot of fruit, including some of the most flavorful red apples ever and a few pears, too. I’ve already eaten some super-crunchy and juicy Honey Crisps this year, and I’m a big fan of the Pink Lady with its wonderfully tangy sweetness. There are so many things to be made with all these apples, from pies, crumbles, betties and cakes to butter, fritters, cider…and, pedestrian as it may sound, applesauce.

beautiful red apples from julia’s trees

an artist’s palette

The thing is, applesauce—an innocuous childhood favorite—is only as dull as you make it. By starting with a mix of delicious organic apples, you’re already ahead. Then there are so many things you can add in: raisins, cranberries, orange zest, lemon zest, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, ginger, honey, maple syrup, pecans, walnuts, cider, calvados, port…not all of them, of course, but a choice few.

golden (and) delicious

You don’t have to peel the apples, but I tend to like the way the peeled chunks break down into a pleasingly soft goop. I threw some pears into this recent batch, along with fresh ginger, just-grated nutmeg and a couple of spoonfuls of calvados. I love eating it warm, maybe with a spoonful of creamy yogurt.

a saucy rendition

Some people like it pureed to a very smooth texture, but I prefer a chunky style.

a bowl of freshly made applesauce (with pears)

Applesauce is perfection on its own, or stirred into hot cereal; spooned over yogurt; in baked goods, where it can replace other liquids; with pork; with pancakes and waffles; and even with ice cream. Don’t let this season (or this week) go by without whipping up a big batch. It’s easier than pie.

If you’re trying to eat more local foods, grapes may be something you don’t get often enough. All year long, I pass up those gargantuan globes flown in from Chile, so it’s quite exciting to see the gorgeous blue-black clusters of Concord grapes at the farmers markets. And to smell them! Their gorgeous perfume attracts the bees even in the middle of New York City. I’m lucky enough to have access to another local grape, grown by our friends at River Brook Farm along the Delaware River. Himrod is a native white grape, a choice seedless variety known for its sweet, floral quality that is quite similar to the related Concord. (This is sometimes called a “foxy” flavor because of its musky intensity.) I love its pale chartreuse color, a last lovely reminder of summer’s greener pastures. And I’ve found that it goes perfectly with gin…

concords have that dusty “bloom”

But so does Concord grape juice! And it’s so easy to make your own. (There’s also a fun article in the latest Saveur on making grape soda at home.) Concord grapes are packed with nutrition, including vitamin C, calcium and phosphorus.

the cluster effect

The dark skin of Concords is loaded with polyphenols, a phytonutrient (plant-based nutritional component). These act as an antioxidant, protecting your body from cell damage caused by toxins. They strengthen your immune response, heal damage that you may have sustained at the cellular level (especially if you smoke), and could even help protect you from developing some forms of cancer.

deep purple

Every year, I make a batch of this vivid sorbet, flavored with a hint of fennel that perfectly offsets the grape’s sweetness. The referenced post also contains a recipe for making your own grape juice, although you can even skip the cooking step and simply extract the juice cold. Another great use for fresh grape juice, whether purple or green, is in the aforementioned gin cocktail. Serve it with some salted peanuts and it propels the classic kiddie combo of peanut-butter-&-grape-jelly into a decidedly adult sphere.

On this very day last year, I was also writing about popsicles. Strange synchronicity. Although thoughts do tend to turn that way when the mercury soars and fresh fruit abounds. The thing about popsicles is that they are SO EASY to make. Frozen liquid, that’s all they are. So you could puree bananas with almond milk and caradamom. Or blend coconut water with fresh blueberries and mint. Or even juice some carrots with a little ginger and freeze that. Willing to turn on the stove? Cook strawberries with honey and a dried ancho chile. Puree it then freeze. You don’t really need a lot of involved recipes to make popsicles. Your imagination and what’s in the fridge can be your guide. That said, Fany Gerson’s new book Paletas (Spanish for popsicles) is quite handy. From yogurt with berries to apricot-chamomile to mezcal-orange, she’ll steer you toward original combinations, many of them quite adult. Not that you won’t feel like a kid again when you’re slurping something sweet and icy from a stick.

sour cherries are precious because they have such a short season

Have you just brought home some sour cherries from the farmers market? A popsicle is the perfect vehicle for them. (Or maybe a clafoutis, but that’s a different post.) Pit them, cook them with some sugar and a spritz of lemon juice. Puree them to a nice, chunky consistency and pour them right into your molds.

they are quite soft and must be used right away

If you want to keep some sour cherries for later in the season, the best thing to do is freeze them. Wash them, pit them and then spread them on a parchment-lined cookie sheet you can pop into the freezer. Once solid, slip them into a ziploc bag. They keep well like this. You can also cook them with sugar, puree them and freeze that in a plastic container.

red currants have a unique sweet-tart flavor

Red currants are also at the farmers market now and are wonderful for syrups, jellies and, yes, popsicles.

coconut milk makes a smooth and creamy but dairy-free treat

Don’t forget to experiment with less expected flavors. Lightly sweetened cucumber juice with lime and mint makes a fantastically refreshing popsicle. I made purple plum with ginger and cinnamon, and blueberry-raspberry-mint for our 4th of July party, both of which were quite popular, especially with the junior set.

That’s me. Did you know I’ve been married four times? And I’m not that old. Twice divorced and widowed once. But in it for the long haul now. I’m so glad I finally found what I was looking for and it turned out to be even better than what I had imagined. I’m in the zone! And so will you be when you spoon a big bite of tart, creamy and dreamy gooseberry fool into your mouth. Allegedly dating back to the 15th century, this dead simple treat is nobody’s fool; or rather, anybody’s. It’s just a cooked puree of sweetened gooseberries folded into whipped cream. Chilled and served in a wine glass or a coupe with a long spoon, it’s among the most elegant desserts you can make without breaking a sweat.

gooseberries can be green or purple-with-a greenish-tinge

Never seen a gooseberry? Look for them now at your farmers market. They are in the Ribes family, as are black currants. Quite tart, when sweetened up they become deliciously addictive, like rhubarb or lemon.

they are beautifully round and delicately veined

You must remove the tops and tails; an annoying task that’s made for the nimble fingers of small children, who can be bribed with promises of creamy fool.

although they look something like grapes, the similarity ends there

The River Cottage Preserves Handbook has a wonderful recipe for gooseberry chutney loaded with Indian spices like fenugreek and nigella. That with a piece of sharp cheese sounds like heaven to me.

what is prettier than a pot of sliced purple gooseberries?

Once the gooseberries are prepped and sliced in half, you cook them briefly with sugar to create a chunky puree.

i try not to dive in head first

Whip cream with some crème fraîche or sour cream and a little sugar; a bit of rose water or orange flower water is lovely but optional.

the fool is tart and sweet and smooth and chunky

I love a little tipple before dinner, especially in the summer. It just feels a little indulgent, leisurely. The apéritif was actually a 19^th century invention for the purpose of delivering extremely bitter, malaria-fighting quinine. Herbs and spices were added to mask the disagreeable flavor and voilà! A French invention, of course. Although most agree that 18^th-century Italians were well versed in the aperitivo. Campari is a perfect example of such a slightly bitter and agreeably complex concoction. I use the word tipple because the apéritif is a light drink, a small amount of alcohol just to awaken the appetite. (For you tee-totallers out there, I am going to do a post on the non-alcoholic versions very soon.) I personally love Lillet, technically called a tonic wine because of the addition of a liqueur of Chinchona bark from Peru which contains quinine.

You can create your own version, by steeping citrus fruit in rosé with a few spices. Julia Moskin, in her fantastic online DIY cooking handbook for the New York Times, provides a great recipe, adapted from London chef Sally Clarke. The original version is made with Seville oranges, which I happened to have on hand from making marmalade. Julia adapts it with more readily available citrus. It has a powerful flavor that develops during a 6-week fermentation period. So, if you want to serve yours on July 4th, as I do, you’d better get cracking.

a lovely french rosé and a pile of seville oranges

Your citrus should be organic and clean, because anything on the peel will end up in the wine.

vanilla, cinnamon, cardamom and pink peppercorns

The original recipe calls only for vanilla and cinnamon, but I couldn’t resist adding my beloved cardamom and some pink peppercorns.

the color is a promise of lovely flavor to come

If you haven’t already, now may be the time to invest in some large glass wide-mouthed jars. I use them for everything, from making this wine, to fermenting sauerkraut to brewing sun tea. (Something like this.) Here’s to a perfect summer!

G and I are homeward bound! We’re getting on a plane tomorrow night, first class on Singapore Air! We’re so ready. It’s been a strange interlude, living in a hotel in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, watching my husband drift in and out of a morphine haze. I can’t say I’ll miss the room service food, but I will miss stumbling across exotic ingredients everywhere I go. Like this striking dragon fruit. We drove through a big grove of the cactus-like trees—almost like snakey Medusa heads—that produce this fantastical fruit and couldn’t resist stopping at a roadside stand to buy one. According to the New York Times, here, the dragon fruit is having a bit of a moment, increasingly showing up on the menus of renowned chefs at groovy restaurants.

the dragon fruit cactus looks like a 60s hairdo

Dragon fruit will sprout only when their big, fragrant white blooms are properly pollinated. This can only happen after the sun goes down as the flowers are extraordinarily delicate. Bats and moths normally take care of the pollination duties, but in the US, where Southern California farmers have begun to grow the fruit, it is done by hand.

dragonfruit on a roadside scale

Paradoxically, for all its exotic looks, the dragon fruit doesn’t taste like much. Full of tiny black seeds, it is like a slightly more watery kiwi, though lacking any of the sweetness or tang. It has a very pleasing mouthfeel and is extremely refreshing but the taste is really quite neutral. I can’t understand what these chefs think it’s bringing to the party.

some are white on the inside, but ours was this intense fuchsia

From the color alone, it’s safe to assume the dragon fruit, also known as pitaya, is high in antioxidants. And it’s watery texture means it’s very low in calories. I could see serving it ice cold as a palate cleanser during a rich, spicy meal.

it sure made for a beautiful breakfast

The next time you hear from me, I will be back on home turf.

We went back to visit the surgeon because G’s pain level had become rather worrisome. Fortunately he doesn’t have a clot or deep vein thrombosis, but he did come away with some new painkillers. (Hello, Sister Morphine.) And I came away with several treats from the hospital snack shop. What with the crutches, the pillows, the xrays and G’s backpack, I couldn’t bring the camera with me, but later I snapped some photos of my finds on the tiny terrace off our room. For the most part, we’ve been flat on our backs (healing is a team sport), watching bad movies and the occasional itunes download (loving The Killing–is AMC the new HBO?!), and, yes, eating crackers in bed. Fortunately, they’ve been some quality Indonesian crackers, a national specialty that puts Ritz to shame.

g dubbed these “indonesian bugles” for their nutty corn flavor

Indonesia has a huge variety of fried crackers, known as krupuk or, for the smaller varieties, kripik. They are consumed as snacks or crushed and sprinkled on soups, rice dishes and salads to add crunchy texture. Krupuk are usually made from some sort of starchy dried paste mixed with savory ingredients, while kripik are made from thinly sliced, sun-dried fruits, nuts and vegetables. There are, of course, chips made from potatoes, but also from cassava, taro and rice flour. Flavorings include peanuts, onion, anchovy and shrimp. Kripik can be savory or sweet, with popular flavors including  spinach, eel, banana, jackfruit, snake fruit and breadfruit.

these were like the ultimate frosted flakes

I’m still not sure about the base ingredient of the small sweet crackers, above, though they exuded the unmistakeable aroma of amusement park—that intoxicating combination of popcorn, peanuts and cotton candy. They were coated with an addictive coconutty glaze and had a faint tang at the very end, reminiscent of something fermented and calling to mind the delicious tempeh available here. (I don’t usually like tempeh, but it’s really fresh and chewy and good in Indonesia.)

peanuts take on a newly exotic appeal

Of course crackers are not the only snacking category. These peanuts are another standout, enlivened with salt, a little chile and the slightly floral flavor of wild lime leaves.

speaking of exotic, snake fruit is pretty out there

And then there’s the fruit: yellow and red watermelon, tiny sweet pineapples, spiky rambutan, funky durian, chubby little bananas, succulent orange papaya, fleshy breadfruit, purple mangosteen…and salak (Salacca zalacca), also known as snake fruit. About the size and shape of a ripe fig, they grow on a kind of native palm. As you can see, the reddish-brown scaly skin really does look like that of a snake. The three interior lobes resemble and have the smooth, crisp consistency of peeled garlic cloves, but they taste sweet and a bit acidic.

It’s juice, juice, juice, morning, noon and night over here. G is left to his own (highly capable) devices as I embark on my semi-annual juice fast. Inspired by this article in last weekend’s T magazine, I have decided to go for 10 days. I think the longest I’ve ever gone is 5, so we’ll see if I make it. It’s not that I ever stop because I’m truly hungry, more like I just miss food. But my menopausal body has felt very bloated and chubby of late, my joints ache a bit and my lower back has been bothering me, so I’ve decided to take things in hand. None of this is being helped by the stress of the bathroom renovation, which has, of course, turned into a nightmare. We’re now facing week 4 of camping at a friend’s (very kindly loaned) house, and our builder is nowhere in sight. I feel displaced, powerless and enraged. In the face of all that, I am trying to soothe the beast with long baths with Epsom salts and essential oils, lots of snowshoeing and yoga, and plenty of juice.

for juicing, fresh organic produce is essential

I posted about juicing some time ago here, and mentioned the Breville juicer I use. After many years of success with that one, I’m actually toying with the idea of buying this one, which is supposed to extract more juice of a higher quality. In the realm of juicers, you really do seem to get what you pay for, because you need a machine with real power.

What are some of the benefits of juice? Well, for one, phytochemicals are changing the way we think about food, especially fruits and vegetables. Bok choy, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, carrots, collards, kale, kohlrabi, mustard greens, rutabaga, turnip greens, red beets, peppers, garlic, onions, leeks, and chives are but a few of the vegetables that appear to contain cancer-preventing phytochemicals. Another substance found exclusively in plants, chlorophyll, has a structure similar to hemoglobin, which is responsible for transporting oxygen. During the 1940s, researchers found that consuming chlorophyll enhances the body’s ability to produce hemoglobin, thus improving the efficiency of oxygen transport. Fresh juice also delivers loads of enzymes, which are catalysts in hundreds of thousands of chemical reactions that take place throughout the body. They are essential for digestion and absorption of food, for conversion of food into body tissue, and for the production of energy at the cellular level. Enzymes are killed by heat, so the freshness of juice allows the enzymes to remain viable. Fruits and vegetable juices are also excellent sources of traditional nutrients, like vitamins and essential minerals. And since juicing removes indigestible fiber, these nutrients are available to the body in much larger quantities than if fruits or vegetables are eaten whole.

The biggest problem is that most of us don’t eat enough of these fresh foods to reap the benefits they offer. Even though the National Cancer Institute recommends five servings of vegetables and three of fruits every day, the average American eats only 1 1/2 servings of vegetables and, on average, no fruit on any given day.

But what you really need to know is that juice is delicious and makes you feel great. Lighter, clearer, more energized. It’s a gateway drug to better eating. Once you’ve drunk a beautiful green juice, that pasty white bagel smeared with gluey industrial cream cheese just won’t seem that appealing.

first juice of the day: cucumber, celery, kale, spinach, green apple, beet, ginger & lemon

Here are some combinations I’ve been enjoying lately:

pineapple, banana, mango, ginger, coconut water, chia seeds, maca powder and spirulina

fennel, pear, parsley, watercress, ginger and lemon

grapefruit, orange, lemon, ginger and cayenne

carrot, kale, cucumber, celery, green apple, parsley, lemon, garlic and ginger

For more juice combinations, see here. Curious about where to find ingredients like chia seeds, maca powder and spirulina? All readily available at your local health food store, or Whole Foods.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night with a strange headache. It might have been from anxiety, but it might have been toxins working their way out. I like to think so. Juice: it’ll cure what ails you.

I come from a very linguistically focused family where all sorts of word games (not to mention mind games) were the order of the day. I’m very into language and its limitless possibilities for manipulation, including the humblest pun. Never can resist. Ingredients are sort of like words, able to be tossed together in seemingly infinite combinations, so that cooking becomes a kind of jazzy poetry (rap?!) or improvised narrative. The kishu is a sweet little grace note, an ampersand between clementines and satsumas. This tiny mandarin, only slightly bigger than a jawbreaker, originated in China and arrived in Japan around the 17th century, where it is known as mukaku-kishi. Mukaku means seedless, which they are. They have a super-short season and are not that easy to come across. I got mine through Local Harvest, a locavore network that helps you find farmers’ markets, family farms and other sources of sustainably grown food in your area, and through which you can buy produce, grass-fed meats and other coveted items. My kishus came from Churchill Orchard, a small organic farm in Ojai, California.

kishus are a bright spot in winter

the tiny segments are as adorable as they are delicious

Kishus are the perfect combination of sweet and tart. If you can stop yourself from popping them whole into your mouth, you can enjoy each firm, juicy little segment like a delectable candy. Alex Raij, the chef at Txikito in Manhattan, is also a fan. Last week, New York magazine published her recipe for a carpaccio made with very thinly sliced kishus (clementines make a worthy substitute), fanned out over a citrus-infused caramel, drizzled with olive oil and finished with a light sprinkling of crunchy sea salt. This inspired juxtaposition of flavors and textures is easily replicated by you as the perfect end to a rich meal, or for a delightful Sunday afternoon treat.

CLEMENTINE CARPACCIO WITH CITRUS CARAMEL, SEAT SALT & OLIVE OIL

from Alex Raij at Txikito

serves 4

12 seedless clementines (or 4 times as many kishus), plus 4–6 more to yield 1 cup juice
Juice of 1 lemon
1 cup sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup fresh Spanish olive oil (preferably Navarran Arbequina)
Crunchy sea salt

Peel 12 clementines by hand, reserving peel from three. Chill fruit. Combine fruit juices and strain.

Julienne the peels and place in a small pot, along with sugar. Cover with 2/3 cup water. Stir once and heat on medium-high flame. Boil until the caramel turns dark chestnut, then add citrus juices very carefully. Whisk the mixture and stir in salt. Let cool slightly or entirely at room temperature, but do not chill. To serve: Place 1 1/2 tablespoons of the caramel on each of 4 plates.

Using a very sharp knife and no pressure, thinly slice the peeled fruit crosswise into 1/8- to 1/4-inch-thick wheels. Arrange in a petal pattern over the caramel without overlapping. Drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle a tiny amount of sea salt on each slice.