Jar of Goodness 5.29.22: Missouri Wines

. . . The weekly virtual “gratitude jar.”

This week, I’m expressing thanks for Missouri wines.

This afternoon we went to Stone Hill for a screening of a new documentary about the history of wine in Missouri, including a big dose of Stone Hill history in Hermann. It’s called Winemaking in Missouri: A Well-Cultivated History, and apparently it will be coming to a PBS station near you soon (starting in St. Louis, eventually being distributed nationally by American Public television).

Seriously, keep an eye out for it. It's well made, well-researched, and well worth watching.

Directed by Cat Neville as part of her tasteMAKERS series, it covers a long, interesting history: How German immigrants brought wine culture with them, how it was a challenge to try to grow European grapes in Missouri, how an invasive root pest introduced to Europe nearly destroyed the wine industry there, but Missourians figured out that North American grape rootstocks were naturally resistant and European grapes could be grafted onto them, saving them from utter destruction. And then, when Missouri wineries were producing the most wine in the country, then came Prohibition. So Missouri wines themselves had to come back from utter destruction.

One of my favorite points made in the movie is that here in Missouri, we don’t grow Zinfandel, Merlot, Cabernet, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc. Our climate and soils aren’t right for those. BUT! We have the Norton, and we have a number of interesting hybrids of those European grapes with native varieties. So yeah, Missouri wines are not the same as the others. If you drink them expecting them to taste just like the wines made in California or Europe, you’ll be disappointed. . . . But why would you hold such an expectation? And why would you want them to be the same? . . . Variety is the spice of life! Travel broadens the mind! And wine is never about having that same exact delicious flavor again and again and again. That’s for fast-food connoisseurs. No! Wine is about trying and sampling new things. It’s about the journey; making discoveries.

We were a little late, so we missed most of the hors d’oeuvres before the showing, but we got to see the film. Afterward, as people milled about and sifted away, we sat at one of the outdoor picnic tables to enjoy a bottle of Norton.

Even though there had been a formal Q&A session before the film, the Held family and other Stone Hill people were still busy afterward speaking with tons of guests. (You could have figured that people would want to stand around and talk more after viewing the film!) The servers were removing the demolished trays of food, the leftover napkins, the plates. As the place emptied, we waved and did the hip-hip-hooray sign at Betty Held, the honored matriarch of Stone Hill, as she rode away with friends in a van. A little later, Jon and Nathan Held walked by and chatted with us for a while, so we had a really nice conservation with them after all. Truly the highlight of the evening.

John Thorne, my favorite food writer, said that good wines are always worth trying, because you can usually see why some people really like them. They’re interesting. Even if it’s not to your personal taste, you can at least appreciate them for what they are: different. Somebody’s beloved local flavor. “Malbec, for instance,” he says, “is a varietal that tastes rather like ink; a highly rated one tastes like delicious ink.”

Variety is the spice of life. . . . Variety is the spice of life.

Head to 4M Vineyards—It’s Concord Time!

Oh, joy! The concord grapes are ready at 4M Vineyards! You can buy 3-lb. boxes, 20-lb. half bushels, and 40-lb. whole bushels of them at excellent prices through about the end of October. (The grape season usually starts in early to mid August and extends into October.)



Most people make jelly or juice from concords, but I like to make them into grape pies, tarts, and kuchens, and “pickled grapes” (which is really a spiced grape jam, akin to pickled peaches). The latter is a favorite of Dad’s.



Right now, I’m giving you links to 4M’s website and Facebook page—look at those for official info and updates on what’s currently available.

During grape harvest season, they’re open 7 days a week, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. When it gets to be late October and the grape crop is finishing, to make sure to call ahead to make sure they’re open: 573-265-3340.

Once there’s a hard frost, that’s the end of the grapes: 4M typically has them available for about a week after the frost, but then that’s it. So call ahead if it’s late October.



4M Vineyards and Farms is located at 20670 State Route KK, which is 4 miles east of St. James, Missouri. Where they’re at, Route KK, actually old Route 66, runs along the south side of I-44 like an outer road, and 4M and some of its vineyards are plainly visible from the interstate.



If you’re on I-44, get off at the Highway 68/St. James exit, go south, and turn left (east) at the first stoplight (James Blvd., which becomes Route KK). (Often, people actually park on the shoulder of the interstate and walk up the grassy slope and across Route KK, but that’s not recommended!)

This, by the way, is the Ozark Highlands/St. James/Rosati grape-growing region of Missouri, a distinct American Viticultural Area (appellation) designated by the U.S. government (TTB). For more about that, visit the St. James Winery on the north side of the interstate.



Okay: Of all the places to purchase grapes in Missouri, why am I telling you about 4M Vineyards?

Because they’re the real thing, they’re local, they’re friendly, and their products, though unpretentiously presented, are deserving of the highest praise. It’s been a family business since 1984. My blog has always been about things like that.

One look at 4M’s annual letter and price list says it all. (Seriously, click on the link, and you’ll find an informational, entertaining announcement about 4M Vineyards’ progress and offerings this year. You’ll especially enjoy the story of the grapevine-chomping deer, the air cannon . . . and the neighbors!)





I love 4M Vineyards, and I deeply admire Mike and Jody Rippelmeyer, who own it. There are incredibly good reasons why their vineyards are expanding, why their preserves and baked goods are so delicious, and why a visit to their market is so pleasant.

We always make an annual trip to 4M! It’s worth it. I need my nice big box of concords!

I process (deseed) grapes in 3-cup batches, put them in quart-size freezer zip bags, and freeze them—each is enough for a pie or a kuchen, or a pint or so of pickled grapes.



But at 4M, we can also start our Christmas shopping: They sell a glorious variety of homemade jellies, jams, and other preserves that you can’t purchase just anywhere. Think how much your impoverished friends who live in big cities will love these goodies!



I mean, seriously! Here is a PARTIAL list (partial, because I ran out of room on my notepad!):

• Apple butter; amaretto apple butter
• Blackberry jelly
• Cantaloupe marmalade
• Catawba grape jam and jelly
• Concord grape jam, jelly, and juice
• Corn cob jelly
• Cucumber pickles (various kinds)
• Elderberry jelly and jam
• Green tomato chutney
• Jalapeno jelly (several kinds)
• Niagara grape jam and jelly
• Pear jelly; pear honey
• Pineapple jelly
• Pumpkin butter; pumpkin pie jelly
• Relishes of various kinds
• Salsas of various kinds
• Tomato jam and jelly
• Wild plum jelly and jam
• Wine jelly (this is incredibly delicious!)
• Zucchini pickles (various kinds)

—Wowsa! Doesn’t that sound tempting? Their shelves and shelves of preserves make me feel proud, and I didn’t lift a finger. And yes, they have samples for you to try.



And they make these goodies themselves—this isn’t just shipped in from Pennsylvania or someplace.



They also sell homemade banana bread, zucchini bread, pumpkin bread, and apple chip bread. (Just typing this, my mouth is watering.)

And they also make and sell grape pie—which is my favorite kind of pie. Not many people in Missouri make grape pie, but it’s well worth the extra effort. It is not only exquisitely delicious, but also a joy to behold, being a glorious, deep, royal purple.

Local honey and low-priced, top-notch fresh fruits and vegetables round out the edible bounty.

There’s also a fun selection of antiques and collectables, with an emphasis on cooking supplies. (Christmas is coming; and you know you could always use another cookie sheet, baking pan, or casserole dish!)



And although they don’t make and sell wine themselves, they sell wine-making supplies, including a selection of yeasts and (of course) bulk grapes! You can buy grape plants, too.



This is the best time of year to be in Missouri, and while you’re driving around enjoying the crisp air and scenery, stop at 4M and get some concords, while they last!

4M Vineyards and Farms
21000 State Route KK
St. James, MO 65559
573-265-3340

• Farm stand is typically open Aug. 7 to Nov. 1
• Opening depends on ripening; closing depends on how long the crop holds.
• Call ahead in early August or late October, to ensure they are open.
• Open daily, 7 days a week, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.

The Concord Grape Pie Recipe

This is a relatively basic recipe, but it seems little known in Missouri. But now that Missouri’s grape industry is such big guns, it’s time we learned how to make grape pies.




Concord grape pies are delicious and deserve to be more common than they are, and making this pie will prove it to you. (I’m still groovin’ on our beautiful, glorious cornucopia of Ohio Concords!)

I’ve mentioned this recipe before, and I’ve told you the story of how I started making it back in college. It was a labor of love!

I learned how to make it the hard way. The biggest deal with cooking with Concords is processing them—getting the seeds out! (Most people don’t care to eat a crunchy pie!)

Below, I tell you how to process the grapes in record time. What I usually do is buy a big batch of grapes at once—they’re only in season for a short while. I measure them out into preset quantities (usually 3 cups), process, put into freezer zip-bags, squeeze the air out, and freeze flat so it doesn’t take them long to thaw. Grape pies are easy to make once you’ve processed the grapes!

My recipe is not groundbreaking; it’s based on a recipe in the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook (1953, p. 308) (a delightful facsimile edition of the vintage 1953 book was recently published); plus, I’ve altered it per advice I got from my friend’s mother, and I’ve even made a few modifications myself.

And sure, you can try flour or tapioca as alternative thickeners, but good luck with that. I’ve found corn starch, and plenty of it, works the best.

P.S. Don’t forget to have some vanilla ice cream around so you can serve it à la mode!




Concord Grape Pie

3 cups of Concord grapes, including skins, processed to remove seeds (see below)
1 cup sugar
dash salt
dash nutmeg
1 tsp. lemon juice
3 rounded tablespoons corn starch
pastry for a 9-inch double-crust pie
2 tablespoons butter

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Bring grape pulp and skins to a boil and turn off heat; stir in salt, nutmeg, and lemon juice. In a separate small bowl, add a ladleful of this mixture to the corn starch and stir to dissolve the corn starch; add this to the rest of the grape mixture and stir to combine.

Roll out pie dough and arrange bottom crust in pie pan. Fill with grape mixture. Dot pieces of butter over the filling, and arrange top crust, cutting holes or slits in top. (Brush top with lightly beaten egg white and/or sprinkle with sugar, whatever you like to do.)

Bake at 400 degrees for up to 40 or 50 minutes. Keep an eye on it; if the edge starts to brown too fast, use a pie crust protector. Having a large piece of foil beneath the pie to catch potential drips is also a good idea.

It’s done when it’s done!




Processing Seeded Grapes (Such as Concords)

I have tried to deseed grapes any number of ways, from picking the seeds out by hand, one by one, with a pointy knife (not recommended!), to using a sieve . . . to my current method. It requires a food mill, which might seem a bit expensive, but you’ll be amazed at how many uses you’ll find for it.

Another note: consider your eventual use of the grapes. If you will want a very smooth consistency (say, for jam), you might chop or even purée the skins before adding them back in to the mix.

1. Pluck grapes from stems into measuring cup, measuring quantity desired for recipe use (I use 3-cup quantities for most recipes).

2. Rinse grapes in colander and wash your hands.

3. Get comfortable with two “bowls” in front of you: one a small saucepan, the other a plain bowl. Slip the skins from the grapes over the saucepan; the grape “guts” fall into the saucepan. Drop the empty skins into the other bowl. Do the whole batch. Listen to good music! I like jazz.

4. Over medium heat, cook the grape “guts,” stirring often, simmering until the pulp breaks down and seeds separate out.

5. Pour pulp, juice, and seeds into a food mill positioned over a bowl and process to remove seeds. (This is much easier than the alternative: trying to press the pulp through a wire strainer with a spoon. Or you can try using one of these old-style conical aluminum thingies—or on second thought, maybe not.)

6. Reunite reserved grape skins with processed pulp and juice; stir to combine.

7. Your processed grapes are now ready for your recipe—or you can freeze them at this point for convenient later use (I freeze each batch flat in a freezer zip-bag, squeezing all the air out).

Venison Jelly—Another Spiced Grape Concoction

If you Google "pickled grapes" or "spiced grapes," you'll find a lot of fascinating recipes. But I was just poking around in another very old cookbook and I discovered a recipe similar to the “Pickled Grapes” from the Hearthstone.

In this instance, the recipe is called “Venison Jelly” and is obviously recommended as a condiment for your venison!

It’s from page 546 of The Settlement Cook Book: Tested Recipes from the Settlement Cooking Classes, the Milwaukee Public School Kitchens, the School of Trades for Girls, and Experienced Housewives, compiled by Mrs. Simon Kander [that is, Lizzie Black Kander, 1858–1940] (Milwaukee: Settlement Cook Book Co., 1921).

I must write more about this particular cookbook someday—this volume was my Grandma Schroeder’s cooking textbook from her domestic science class in 1922–1923. It’s full of great recipes! An absolute trove. You can find it online here.


Venison Jelly

1 peck wild grapes, or 12 lbs. concord grapes,
1 quart vinegar,
1/4 cup whole cloves,
1/4 cup stick cinnamon,
6 lbs. sugar.

Put first 4 ingredients into a preserving kettle. Heat to boiling and cook until grapes are soft. Strain through a jelly bag and boil the juice 20 minutes. Add sugar and boil 5 minutes, or until it jells. Turn into glasses.

The Hearthstone’s Pickled Grapes: “Especially Nice for the Tea-Table”

Today I’m returning to a very old book we picked up at a used bookstore: The Hearthstone; or, Life at Home: A Household Manual [etc., etc.], by Laura C. Holloway (Philadelphia: Bradley, Garretson, 1883, yes, 1883).




Among the “Cookery Recipes” in this volume are several formulas for various types of pickles. Obviously, in the 1880s, if you wanted to have anything remotely resembling a fruit or vegetable in the wintertime (not counting potatoes, cabbage, and apples), you needed to preserve it before it went “south.”

I try to imagine what winter dinners were like before refrigeration, advanced greenhouses, and rapid transcontinental shipping: Meat ’n potatoes ’n cabbage. Potatoes ’n cabbage ’n meat. Cabbage ’n meat ’n potatoes . . .

So when Mom would have you go to the basement and fetch up a jar of pickled peaches, zesty gherkins, or zippy tomato catsup, it would turn the mundane into something you could, well, relish.

I encourage you to check out the recipes in this book. You can find digital copies of it online. Some of its pickle recipes today seem a tad unusual—including pickled nasturtiums, pickled damsons, cucumber catsup, and walnut catsup!

But the one we’re talking about today is on page 511: “Pickled grapes.” With my glorious abundance of Concords, I have plenty to experiment with. So I tried it this week!

No, it’s not as bad as you think—it’s not like dill or sour pickles. It’s more along the lines of “pickled peaches”—flavored with cloves and cinnamon, and brightened with apple cider vinegar—except with grapes, it acquires the texture of a sauce or jelly. It makes a great relish for any kind of dry meat that harmonizes with sweet flavors. It would be great on turkey, I think, or with pork chops or white-meat chicken.

Hey, maybe you could make this for Thanksgiving! The deep purple hue and the silky texture would be an interesting alternative to the usual ol’ cranberry-stuff you usually serve.

And it would be good on biscuits, and all of that kind of stuff, too. —Oatmeal? Why not!

And it’s good on crackers!




Here’s the recipe. I quartered it (those quantities and my notes appear after the official, full recipe).

Be careful not to overcook it; this recipe relies on the natural pectin in the grapes. If your grapes don’t quite “jelly,” don’t sweat it. It’s just fine when it’s on the runny side.

Here we go, verbatim from the book:

Pickled Grapes.—Seven pounds of ripe grapes, picked from the stems, and boiled until the skins will pass through a colander; three and a-half pounds of sugar, one-half pint of vinegar, one ounce each of whole cloves, cinnamon and allspice; all boiled together until it jellies. Put in glasses, and turn out in form. These pickles are especially nice for the tea-table.

But now, here’s how I did it: I processed the grapes in my usual way: I measured the cupfuls of grapes first; slipped off and reserved the skins; boiled the insides until soft and passed them through a food mill to deseed them. To ensure a fairly smooth texture, I chopped up the skins before reuniting them with the grape “guts.” Then I proceeded as the recipe says, cooking all ingredients together. I didn’t can (preserve) it; I’m just keeping it in the fridge. Depending on how much you cook it down, the quartered version will make no more than a few pints. Mine made about a pint and a half.

Here are the quantities for my quartered version:

3 cups Concord grapes (about 1.75 lbs.), processed as above to remove seeds
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. cloves (I used powdered)
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. allspice




I wish I could give you some to try, because I think it's delicious. But maybe that's "just me." So when you try this recipe, make sure you write and tell me what you think!

Addendum: A few days after posting this, I found a similar recipe in another old cookbook, and it was recommended specifically as a relish for venison. Click here for my post on it.

Abundance; Wealth

Back in the eighties and nineties, I had a friend who was fairly hung up on the idea of “abundance,” or “wealth.” She devoured all those New Agey books on the subject—you know—the ones that say that we are all wealthy by our very God-natures, and if you really, truly believe you are wealthy, believe that you already are wealthy, and you believe it so much that you act like you are wealthy, then you will become wealthy.

There are a lot of problems with the circular reasoning in this scheme; the magic doesn’t “work” until you fully believe you are wealthy, and if you fully believe you are wealthy, then that’s that—mission accomplished! The problem, and the magic, is that wealth is a state of mind; it’s not a number.

Now, I’m not going to get into actual economics here—they are bleak for most people in the world, as the super-rich become ever more so, and the middle class drifts into peasantry. And yes, those doggone Wall Street financiers who crippled our economy should go to prison—or pay the amount of the bailout. But today I’m not talking about our ability to pay for the things we need.




What I’m talking about is the feeling of wealth, the sense of abundance.

It’s something I’ve felt since we returned from Ohio, and it’s something I see on Facebook when my friends share pictures of their tomato harvest (Rhoda!) or mention the quantity of fresh basil they harvested (Ginny!).

In Ohio, we visited Burnham Orchards, in Berlin Heights, famous for its fresh produce, which, in the fall . . . means apples!

You might remember me talking about “Lutheran Apples” last year about this time; well, because of storm damage to the Lexington/Waverly–area orchards (that area got a tornado the same day that Joplin got zapped), the local Lutherans’ annual fund-raiser sale of apples wasn’t held this year. So my folks didn’t buy ten million apples this fall and share ’em with us.

So this year, Sue and I turned the tables when we were at Burnham’s and purchased a half-bushel each of three different apples—golden delicious, Jonathan, and Cortland. And then we split them with my folks. It felt great to send them home with a big bunch of apples!




Oh yeah: Applesauce, baked apples, apple oat bran muffins, fried apples, apples in the stir-fries, apples in the salads, apples in the potatoes (Himmel und Erde!), apple fritters, apple dumplings, apple pancakes . . . joy!

Then also . . . while we were in Ohio, Sue’s sister and her family have a nice-sized planting of grapevines in their backyard. Concords! . . . And the vines were laden. Every time we raised a leaf, we saw a cluster of grapes.




Sue’s sister is recovering from a broken foot, so jelly-making is “out” for her this year. So she was saying to us, “Take all you want. Seriously! We’re not going to be using them. Here, let me get you some containers to put them in.”

Now, when we were in St. James, Missouri, a few weeks ago, we had bought some grapes at a roadside stand—I’d already measured, processed, and frozen them. It would be enough for about three pies. That should be enough till next fall.




So when Sue’s sister told us to pick as many as possible, my mind got to seesawing between thoughts like “how many times I’ve bought Concords at the store, and here she is, giving them away!” and all the ideas for what I can do with this windfall of lovely little purple globes: Grape pie, grape kuchen (traubenkuchen!), grape tart, grape preserves, grape jelly, grape muffins, grape pancake syrup . . .




So in addition to a bushel and a half of apples in our trunk, we also returned with more than a peck of fresh, beautiful Concords. You know how I feel about fruits; I adore them.

All the way home, the car smelled ambrosial!

. . . And I felt very wealthy, indeed.

The Amazing Zip-Bag Trick

Busy, Eating Out of the Freezer

Everyone else in the world has this weekend off, but I’m working. So I don’t have a lot of time for cooking, much less blogging. And the reason I’m working this weekend is so I can have money. Until there’s more money, I don’t particularly feel like going to the grocery store—and who has time for that, anyway. So thankfully we have the freezer to fall back on.




Preserving the Pesto

Part of my annual end-of-the-garden ritual is harvesting my beautiful, lovely herbs, particularly the basil, which always seems to me like tomatoes, they love the hot weather so much.

I have dried my basil in the past, but I’ve found I don’t tend to use a lot of dried basil. I don’t like using many dried herbs, in general. However, if I make pesto, I use it. And whatever it gets used on turns into something, well, a few notches above a cheese sandwich and a bowl of chicken noodle soup.


My Zip-Bag Idea

First, though, I want to share this with you. Sue thinks it’s a pretty doggone smart idea, and she keeps saying I should blog on it.

So! If you make up a bunch of pesto, how do you store it? Well, Martha S. and others say to pat it into ice cube trays, freeze it, and pop the pesto-cubes into zip bags.

But there are problems with this: First, maybe you don’t need exactly one ice-cube-sized quantity of pesto, and to get more or less pesto from a frozen “pesto cube” would be kind of difficult. Second, a cube takes a while to defrost, requiring advance planning. And who does that? And third, if you put the cubes into a plastic bag, it allows air in the bag to touch the various surfaces of the cubes, making for more freezer burn.

I have a better idea!




Spoon pesto into freezer-style zip bags, get rid of the air bubbles, lay it flat, carefully press out any remaining air, and seal it. Freeze it flat—like on a cookie sheet. The result should be a layer of frozen pesto less than a half inch thick. The flattened bags store extremely well in your crowded freezer, and when it’s time to cook, it’s easy to break off however much pesto you need. Because the pesto’s all stuck against the plastic, freezer burn is minimized.

I’ll bet you didn’t know I was this brilliant, did you!




Super-Easy Pesto Mini Pizzas

So with me being so busy forever tapping on my computer, I depend on my frozen supply of goodies. Yesterday, I made us super-easy, awesome pizzas. It was the highlight of my day. You can make these in the toaster oven, in fact, so it only takes a few minutes to prepare.

For the base, I use good-quality pitas that I get from the international grocery—the kind you often get when you order a gyro sandwich. Not the “pocket” kind—the kind that’s kind of fluffy. You can also buy naans that are essentially the same, just usually oval. We get flatbreads in abundance and keep them in the freezer, too. Here are a few brands we like: Kontos and Kronos. (Kontos, you’ll notice, offers a multigrain flatbread! And yes, it tastes good!)

So, break off a piece of pesto, let it thaw, and spread it on the frozen pita as the sauce. Then, the toppings are up to you. Hunt in the freezer and the fridge; poke around in the pantry. Yesterday, I used our last piece of awesome Schubert’s kielbasa (also frozen), which I sliced thin and precooked on the stove while the pesto thawed.




A tilapia fillet is good, too (precook, of course, and coarsely crumble it).

Then some feta, or mozzarella, and whatever else seems good, such as chopped kalamata olives or slices of grape tomatoes, or whatever. Chopped bell peppers? The red or yellow ones are especially pretty.

I think sardines would be good, too, though I haven’t tried it yet. Sardines are making a comeback, you know—Omega-3’s and all.

Anyway, I gotta get back to work. But one more thing.


Use This Trick on Other Stuff

My zip-bag trick also works well with other goos and sauces. When I open a can of chipotles in adobo sauce, I rarely use the whole thing at once (who does?)—a little of that goes a long way! So I dump the rest into a freezer zip bag (breaking up the larger pieces for uniformity’s sake) and freeze it flat, to use up at my leisure—a teaspoon into some mayo for easy chipotle mayo for your sandwiches; or mix a dab into some plain hummus so it’s not so plain anymore; spike up the vegan posole . . . you know.




An abundance of late-summer tomatoes from the garden? Clean, chop, put into the zip bags, and freeze them flat, just like the others—great for stews, curries, and sauces.

When I process a mess of concord grapes, I do extra and freeze enough for a pie. This is a great way to preserve them.

You can also keep fresh grated ginger this way. (I told you the magic trick for that earlier—remember when we made that cantaloupe sorbet? Ah, summertime.)

Okay—I really have to get back to work now.

—Later!

Grape Crumble Cake

Here’s what I finally did with those grapes I processed. (Remember that earlier post?) I didn’t have enough grapes for a pie, so I decided to “wing it” and adapt a recipe from Dr. Oetker’s book of German baking. (See “Books . . .” at the bottom of this post.)




Dr. Oetker, the company, is the German equivalent of Betty Crocker or Duncan Hines—a manufacturer of packaged baking and pudding mixes, which you can easily find at international groceries. There was a real guy behind the name: Dr. August Oetker developed and sold baking powder in the late 1800s, and it kinda grew from there. His descendants still run the now-international company.

So there’s this cookbook, too—Dr. Oetker’s German Baking Today—whose recipes are all from scratch, with good descriptions and photos of technique. Which I for one need.

The following is adapted from Dr. Oetker’s “Cherry Crumble Cake,” on pages 88–90 of the book. Don’t be put off by all my text—it’s not a difficult recipe. I don’t know how much of a professional baker you are, but I’m intimidated by “pastry” and always appreciate such explanation.





Grape Crumble Cake

You will need a springform pan for this.

First, process about 2 cups of Concord grapes (see my earlier post for pictures): Pluck and measure grapes, slip skin from each grape, reserving skins and putting grape-innards into a small saucepan. Simmer the innards until the tissues start breaking down and seeds start coming loose. The use a food mill or sieve to strain seeds out of the pulp. Recombine the innards with the skins in the saucepan; throw away the seeds.

Next, make the dough for the crust; it will need to chill in the fridge for half an hour, giving you more time to mess with your grapes and the crumble topping.

To make the dough for crust, start with:

1 1/3 c. flour
1 pinch baking powder

Sift together the above into a mixing bowl; then add the following:

1/2 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla dissolved in a tablespoon of sugar
1 pinch salt
1 egg
3/4 stick butter, somewhat softened

Combine with a pastry cutter until a dough is formed; shape into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap, and put into the fridge for half an hour.

While the crust dough chills, preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Finish preparing the grapes. To the processed grapes in the saucepan, add the following:

2/3 c. sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch (dissolved in a little grape juice or water first)
dash salt
dash nutmeg
1 tablespoon of lemon juice

Heat slowly to boiling, then simmer a few minutes until thickened. Turn off heat; set aside.

Prepare crumb crust from the following:

1 1/3 c. flour (sifted as above)
1/2 c. sugar
1 tsp. vanilla dissolved in 1 tablespoon of sugar
3/4 stick of butter, slightly softened.

Mix together with a pastry cutter until desired crumb texture is achieved. Set aside or better yet in the fridge.

Assembly:

Grease the springform pan and take it apart. Take the dough-for-the-crust out of the fridge and roll out like a pie crust. Then, using the bottom platform of the springform pan as a stencil, cut out a circle of dough to fit it. Place that dough circle onto the bottom of the greased springform pan, and then put the springform pan back together. Press the edge of the dough so that it lightly seals around the edge. Lightly prick all over with a fork.

Bake just this bottom part for about 10 minutes or until it’s just cooked; remove from the oven, place on a wire rack, and let it cool down some.

Once it’s cooled a bit, roll/shape the rest of the crust dough into a “snake” (or snake segments), and press it lightly against the sides of the springform pan to form an edge, sealing it against the bottom crust. It should go about 3/4 inch up the sides of the pan.

Pour/scrape the grape mixture onto the pastry base and spread evenly. Top with the crumble topping, and place the whole shebang into the oven. Bake for about 20–30 minutes or until done and attractively golden on top.

Let the cake sit in its pan on a wire rack for about 15 minutes. Then run a knife or thin spatula carefully along the edge to unstick it, and carefully remove the ring. Next, run the knife or thin spatula carefully underneath the cake to free it from the springform base, but don’t take it off the base. Finish cooling on a wire rack.

Then, you have to think of something special to have for dinner, to go with this awesome dessert. I leave that part to you—but make it light, fish or salad or something—because this cake is full of buttery goodness!

(If “grape pie” sounds familiar, you might recall another recipe for grape pie I gave you last year; here’s a link to it!)


Books Admired in This Post

Dr. Oetker, German Baking Today (English edition) (Bielefeld, Germany: Dr. Oetker Verlag, 2003).

Peel Me a Grape

How I do love weird pies! Of course, it seems that almost any pie that’s not apple, peach, cherry, blueberry, or cafeteria-style chocolate cream is “out of the ordinary.” Considering all the wonderful possibilities, the sameness is kind of sad.

Tonight I’m reflecting on the good ol’ Concord grape pie, which you rarely see. At least, not around here. I had never heard of grape pie until about 1988, which is when I made—and tasted—my first-ever Concord grape pie.




The occasion was that I was dating someone whose mother used to make grape pies, back in the forties and fifties. Mrs. S had made her legendary grape pies in a tiny town in northwestern Ohio, and I came to suspect that grape pies must simply be more common in northern Ohio, where folks grow more Concords than we do. That, or maybe women were more willing to "peel grapes" back then.




So after hearing my paramour glorify the exquisite joys of Concord grape pie, I decided I needed to learn to make it. I phoned Mrs. S up in Ohio for instructions, and I could almost hear her shrugging: “Well, you know . . . you just slip the skins off the grapes and get the seeds out, then add some sugar and flour, or tapioca, or cornstarch—whatever—Oh! and add some nutmeg, too.” Aha! Nutmeg’s the secret ingredient. (Many recipes suggest lemon juice and/or grated lemon peel, too.)




Wow, I remember that phone conversation so well! But it was long ago; Mrs. S has been gone nearly twenty years. Times change.

But during that time with my pie-hungry flame, I got pretty good at making Concord grape pies. Of course, I received a great deal of encouragement. And it was one thing I could do right.

Concords are available only in the fall, usually just in September, but I soon learned to buy a quantity, process them to remove the seeds, and freeze them so I could earn extra “girlfriend points” when they were out of season—for instance, as a February birthday-pie.

Honestly, who has the time to make pies? I was in grad school and working. During those years, grape pies were about the only ones I ever made, and I did it almost entirely for the “girlfriend points” in that troubled relationship.

Today, I find it ironic that grape pie—so tedious and time-consuming—has become the pie most people request of me. It just figures.




“Show me you love me . . . Hop when I holler, Skip when I snap; When I say ‘do it,’ jump to it . . . Peel me a grape.”




Three cups, enough for one pie, is about 240 grapes, for your information, each individually plucked from the bunch and hand skinned. And then there’s the cooking and processing to remove the seeds, all before you even think about rolling out any pastry.

I should have grown a backbone much sooner. But my pies are good.




Although that relationship couldn’t last, the reputation I developed among friends and family for making grape pies did. So I came to have at least one thing in common with good Mrs. S, who had peeled her grapes for her own famous pies all those years ago. Funny.






With my fame for grape pies, then, it’s no surprise that my mother, so generous, who loves to shop and give us things, dropped off a package of Concords she’d found at the grocery store this week. And so once again another one of my “signature” grape pies will be born.

. . . Now I can see why mom always warned me to be careful about my reputation.




(Here is what I did with these grapes, by the way; and here is a fun, retro alternative to the traditional grape pie.)