September and October is normally a time of year when we’re buried in preservation projects, trying to put away as much produce as possible in jars and buckets for our cold-weather cooking. But with construction for Pie For Breakfast happening in earnest, new changes to the Legume menu format, and a redesign of the Legume kitchen this month, preservation season is a little bit more on the back burner this year.
Yet even with all that is going on, we’ve had a pretty great preservation season, thanks to our amazing kitchen team. Chris and Aeros’s tomatoes were early this year, which meant we were able to do most of our tomato canning during the week of Labor Day, a week that is typically slow for us. It’s also been a huge relief that our butcher, Mary, has stepped up and grabbed the reins of the pickling program. (It’s like magic: the vegetables get delivered, and then the next day they appear in a bucket of brine.) She’s even managed to break a record in the number of sour dill pickles put away (30 5-gallon buckets) and continues making a steady stream of radish, turnip, and cauliflower pickles each week now that cucumber season is over.
It’s also been a very good year for new things. For the past five or so years, we’ve been really focused on developing the fermentation program, because it’s the easiest way to preserve a large volume of produce. The fermentation stuff is great, and has led to some really wonderful sour soups in the winter and spring, and pickles galore all year long–things that will never leave our menu. But this fall I wanted to get back to our roots and delve into developing some new preservation recipes using canning techniques, because we hadn’t really added many non-fermented things to our repertoire in years. We came up with three new things this September which I’m really excited about and destined to become winter cold weather staples for years to come: homemade catsup, cantaloupe preserves, and eggplant pickles.
The desire to make catsup began with a desire to make shrimp cocktail. Since this is Legume, opening a can of Heinz Ketchup to use as a base for our “homemade” cocktail sauce is not an option, so we had to make our own catsup. Truthfully, a damn good cocktail sauce can be made with Heinz Ketchup, but not one with as much character, humanness, or as delicate and complex a flavor as a catsup made with 120#’s of summer produce at its peak (mostly tomatoes) cooked with some cider vinegar, demerara sugar, and lots of spices, and then reduced down to twenty quarts of wonderfulness.
Shrimp cocktail is the kind of thing I love making at Legume, because I love making things that are considered hackneyed and overdone with an approach that is actually interesting and wonderful, not by deconstructing it with a chefy twist that makes the classic unrecognizable, but by actually using the classical form as a disguise for a radical approach to cooking based on invisible, behind the scenes processes. At Legume, the obligatory “twist,” which fancy restaurants are supposed to put on classic dishes in order to make them contemporary-seeming is that there is no twist.
The cantaloupe preserves began with Chris and Aeros having amazing cantaloupe at the market one Sunday, me bringing it home and eating some, and immediately calling Chris back begging for as much as he could bring me. This ended up being around 200#s which he brought the next day. I’d remembered a spiced cantaloupe we’d made a few years back from an old Amish recipe. The recipe resulted in a preserved cantaloupe product that was really sweet, almost candy-like and cooked to the point where the cantaloupe became translucent, which limited its application. This time around we started with the same idea, but used a less sweet, less acidic brine, and cooked it for less time, which resulted in something we now call “crackaloupe.” Right now it’s on the bluefish dish, which is glazed with the brine and topped with a relish of crackaloupe, jalapeno, and chervil.
Last but not least, the pickled eggplant turned out great. Chris and Aeros had these really great long, skinny eggplant with minimal seeds making it perfect for making firm pickles. We salted and pressed them overnight, cooked them in some vinegar, and then packed them in olive oil with herbs, garlic, and pepper flake. It’s pretty great. I wish we’d done a lot more, but time’s been so scarce for the reasons mentioned above.
I’m really pleased that all three of these new things turned out well. The thing about preservation season is that there isn’t always the time to develop things, so a lot of what we preserve are actually experiments done on a huge scale. We got lucky this season. It’s a risk to attempt 200# of cantaloupe pickles without a tried and true method, but we take these risks because we know we’re not going to have the opportunity to get cantaloupe like that for another year. It’s a risk worth taking, however, because when these things come out good, it gives new energy to the menu for months to come. (Plus, now we have a written method we can use for years to come.) The bigger risk, at least in terms of keeping our kitchen a fertile creative environment, would be to play it safe.