The sweet hereafter

and a recipe for sour cherry lemon loaf

“He was a bold man that first ate an oyster.”

—Jonathan Swift, 18th century Irish satirist

I often wonder about the evolution of the things we eat. Who was it that decided corn was for eating and not fodder for the livestock— and made the decision to boil it, and slather it with butter and salt? Who first took the bitter fruit from an olive tree and cured it, crushed it, distilled it into deep green nectar? Who first accidentally broke and egg and ate it?

Those elemental moments strike me as being at the very essence of creative genius—or perhaps sheer lunacy. But as food becomes more industrialized, less recognizable, the magic of these early discoveries seem to recede further into the mists of time. Eggs become French toast; corn becomes high fructose corn syrup; olives become face wash.

Of course, not all of these evolutions are a bad thing (who could argue with eggs becoming French toast?) But often, the path between what a thing starts as and what it becomes gets littered with too many extraneous ingredients.

If it’s July, it must be zucchini flowers

Eating seasonally can be one way to reconnect with Mother Nature on the gifts she’s producing—those lovely treasures that are here today, and then gone until next year. I’m not talking about the produce that’s available year round at the supermarket: anemic tomatoes, woody asparagus, pale watermelon. I’m thinking about morel mushrooms, fiddleheads, rhubarb, snap peas. Wild blueberries. Really tiny zucchini. Zucchini flowers!

I love them all but perhaps my most favourite is the small, soft, puckery sour cherry.

Pucker up

Sour cherries are a delicate thing. Appearing briefly at the farmers’ market (or not at all), the delicate flesh and sometimes deep red hue belie their assertive taste. Bite into a sour cherry unawares and you’ll know where the name comes from. In a feeble attempt to hide their true character, the marketers have gotten hold of these fleeting gems and relabelled them tart or pie cherries (remember when the lowly prune became a dried plum?). No matter. Those of us who love them best will continue to call them by their name.

My precious market finds

Cultivated sour cherries were known by the Greeks as early as 300 BC. Sour cherries and Persian cuisine have a long history that persists today, while the Romans brought them to Britain long before the 1st century AD. By the early 20th century, there were more than fifty varieties of sour cherry in cultivation in England; that number has dwindled to just a handful, with lovely names like Kentish Red, Amarelles, Griottes and Flemish.

Nowadays you’re most likely to find Morellos, the most commonly cultivated sour cherry. They’re worth seeking out.

Morellos can become the basis for “real” Maraschino cherries to up your cocktail game. Try them in a Persian chicken and rice dish made aromatic with rosewater and saffron. Or simply bake them in a lovely and simple cherry lemon loaf (recipe below), that’s as light as a summer morning.

That which sustains us is a mysterious and wonderful thing. Seek out the ones that are hiding in plain sight, before their Cinderella clock chimes midnight.

Sour cherry lemon loaf

adapted from SweetPhi

makes two small loaves or 18 muffins

This lovely little loaf comes together in one bowl, with ingredients you may well have on hand. Sour cherries take very well to playing with the dessert kids; like rhubarb, sugar softens its hard edges, but that distinctive edge is still there.

Ingredients

¾ cup buttermilk

¼ cup water

½ cup canola oil

1 large egg

Zest of one lemon

2 cups flour

¾ cup sugar

1 tsp baking powder

2 cups pitted sour cherries fresh or frozen, very well drained

Coarse sugar for topping (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350F and either grease and flour two line muffin pan(s) with liners (the batter makes 18 muffins).

2. In a bowl mix together buttermilk, water, canola oil and egg until well blended.

3. Add the lemon zest, flour, sugar, and baking powder and stir until well incorporated.

4. Fold in the cherries and stir until just combined.

5. Using a 2 tablespoon cookie scoop or large spoon, scoop batter into muffins cups so that each muffin cup is about 3/4 full. Sprinkle a little coarse sugar on top of each muffin, and then bake for 25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

6. Let rest for a few minutes, and then transfer to a wire cooling rack and allow to cool.