Yesterday I looked up and realized we’re into the last half of July. Already. And I had one of those inevitable panics where I feel like we haven’t been hiking enough, we haven’t done any camping or road-tripping or picnicking. Sam and I used to devote Sunday mornings to visiting one of our favorite bakeries and reading the paper — and then moseying into Ballard to shop at the farmers market. But now that I bake all day on Sundays for Marge, that tradition has slipped by the wayside. And I feel the same thing happening with the season this year. While I honestly wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than Seattle, our summer can feel pretty short (it really doesn’t get going until the beginning of July). And on those gray, dark February days, I want to make sure I’ve gotten in some good hiking, camping and picnicking. This whole grain skillet crisp is a good place to start: while we didn’t take it out picnicking, I did take it out into the backyard and had a very generous slice right out of the skillet. Slowly. At 9:30 p.m. when it was still light out. So really, when you consider those moments, July could be worse.
I’m not sure if I’ve formally shared with you all yet, but I’ll be working with Attune Foods for a handful of months developing original recipes using their incredible line of whole grain cereals and graham crackers. I feel very lucky as they’re all products that I truly believe in and use often in the house. This recipe is made with their classic Uncle Sam cereal which I love because it’s not at all too sweet (less than 1g of sugar!) but packs a whallop of protein and fiber. The ingredient list contains a total of four ingredients — you don’t see that much these days. When we’re not sprinkling Marge Granola on yogurt, Uncle Sam has become a staple around here.
As for the crisp: it’s a quick, juicy mess of summer all nestled in a cast-iron skillet. If you’ve tried some of the whole grain, seasonal recipes on this site you’re going to like it. It relies solely on whole wheat flour and almond meal — with a splash of buttermilk and a handful of sliced almonds. The topping straddles the line between a crisp and a cobbler (it’s a touch biscuity) and I’ve used it atop a layer of blueberries and blackberries, too. The result? It was a close competitor to the version below. In that way, I say use any berries you like if you can’t get your hands on summer cherries, and let me know if you try other fruits as well — I’d love to hear about it. Until then, a recipe and a promise to be back here soon — with a summer picnic under my belt. I wish all the same for you. Late July: let’s do this.
For the filling:
Preheat the oven to 375 F. Generously butter a 10-inch cast-iron skillet or other oven-safe pan.
Make the crisp topping
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the whole wheat flour, brown sugar, almond meal, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and kosher salt and pulse a few times to combine. Add the butter. Pulse 20-30 seconds, or until the mixture resembles coarse cornmeal. Slowly add the buttermilk and continue pulsing until the liquid is incorporated. At this point, the dough should come in clumps.
Turn the topping out into a medium bowl and fold in the Uncle Sam cereal and almonds; mix with a wooden spoon (or your hands) until both are incorporated.
Prepare the filling
Toss together the cherries, sugar, lemon juice, vanilla extract and cornstarch in a medium mixing bowl. Transfer to the prepared cast iron skillet or other baking-safe pan.
Spoon the topping over the cherries by the heaping tablespoon, so they’re almost fully covered (it’s okay if some around the edges are peeking through). Place in the oven and bake for about 30 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through to ensure even baking. The top should be golden brown and the cherry juices bubbling through.
Remove from the oven, and cool for at least 20 minutes before serving. Serve warm or room temperature. Wrapped in plastic wrap, the crisp will keep at room temperature for 1 additional day.
My good friend Keena was working in India for the last few months and just returned to Seattle, eager to experience as much Pacific Northwest summer as possible in September. I'm with her on this one: It just so happens that towards the end of this month, the farmers markets I've been doing will also come to an end, so things seem like they're both simultaneously gearing up (hike! picnic! beach!) and wrapping up at the same time as I also feel a sense of wanting to cram in as much as I can before the days start getting noticeably shorter. And truly: there's no better recipe to commemorate such efforts than these fresh corn grits with oil-poached summer tomatoes.
For many years, I've always made a summer to-do list. I usually set to work on it right at the beginning of June when the days feel long and ripe with possibility. The list often involves things like learning to bake sourdough bread or making homemade ricotta, doing an epic hike I'd read about in a local magazine, training for a marathon, or reading specific novels. It is always a pretty aspirational list, and I generally don't make much of a dent in it -- resulting in the guilty feeling come late August that I'd wasted too many lazy afternoons when I could've been baking sourdough or making ricotta or doing memorable, epic hikes. But this summer is going to be a bit different: there will be no list. We wait so long in Seattle for long stretches of sunny days, and now that it stays late until 9:30 (or later?), I want to see more of our friends and find stretches of time to do not much of anything except catch up, tan our legs and eat farmers market berries. That's my list.
I received The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon cookbook in the mail not long before we moved to our new house, and I remember lying in bed and bookmarking pages I was excited to try but also feeling overwhelmed with where to start: the truth is that this summer has been a relatively low-inspiration / low energy time in the kitchen for me. I'd been chalking it up to pregnancy but when I think back and if I'm honest with myself, my cooking style tends to be very easy and produce-driven during these warmer months. I rarely break out complicated recipes, instead relying on fresh tomatoes and corn or zucchini and homemade pesto to guide me. But last night I cracked open Sara's book and pulled out a few peaches I've had sitting on the counter, fearing their season may be nearing its end. This morning as I was making coffee, I sliced up the peaches, toasted the pecans and churned away -- having a bite (or maybe two) before getting it into the freezer to firm up.
A triple berry summer crisp made with oats, quinoa flakes and hazelnuts. Summer in a skillet.
We just returned from my mom's cabin on Lake George in upstate New York where we often spend the 4th of July. As usual, each bedroom was packed with family members (this year the couch was even occupied for a night), and our days with reading, lounging on the dock, swimming a bit, maybe jogging down the road or playing tennis if you were feeling ambitious. We drank a notable amount of seltzer water; I managed to read three books and my mom threw us a family baby shower complete with balloons, chocolate cake and Mike's rhubarb bars. In previous years, my mom has planned most of the dinners and even some lunches, but for breakfast we'd all fend for ourselves. I'd often bake a pie or a batch of brownies in the afternoon and everyone would help out where they could, but she would largely do the shopping and brunt of the cooking. This year was different: having just moved from California to Vermont, my mom had a lot on her plate and sent out an email before the holiday weekend asking us all to chip in and help with the meals. Sam and I claimed Friday dinner: we grilled sausages and Sam made his famous deviled eggs. We cut up some unusually seedy watermelon that I found at the co-op in Burlington before we drove out to the lake, and I made a summery quinoa salad that I expected to be kind of epic. The trouble was that it wasn't. I overcooked the quinoa until it was kind of a congealed mush and everything just went downhill from there. But I knew that the idea was strong -- to pack a whole grain salad with all the things of summer (corn! tomatoes! basil!) -- so when we got home to Seattle I tried again. And this time it's a winner.