Speedy snapper with succotash

Am I losing it? The title of this post is terrible. But I can't seem to think of anything else.

Also, once you see what I made, I'm sure someone will correct me (as they are welcome to do; I can delete comments, you know) and say succotash usually has lima beans as a key ingredient. Well, sure. But who eats lima beans? Not many of us. On the other hand, who likes corn, zucchini, and tomatoes? Everyone.

Here's the deal. I've been busy this week, without a lot of time to devote to dinner. I've also been thinking about this great dress I bought for a wedding in a few weeks that would look slightly more fetching on me minus about 5 lbs. So, takeout hasn't really been my solution for no muss, no fuss, healthyish food. Instead, I've tried to keep things on the lighter side. Well, sort of. Never you mind about the husband's favorite pasta that I made on Monday, or the humongous chocolate chip cookie I ate yesterday while working on site with a client (I wanted to appear "part of the team"), or my dinner last night with my friend Lizzy, over which the two of us put away a couple carafes of wine which I'm pretty sure equals a whole bottle.

Anyway, we're not here to talk about me and my weaknesses, which should be pretty evident by now. We're here to talk about what I made for dinner a couple nights ago when searching for something quick and light.

You know what's quick and light? Fish.

Although I was in love with the salmon I spied at the market, it was a bit spendy ($19/pound!) so I opted for snapper instead. As I drove home, I began to envision my dinner. I knew I had some vegetables languishing from last week's produce box, including a few ears of corn, a couple of zucchini, and a big red tomato. I imagined a quick and gorgeous one-pan dinner: a mound of sweet and savory succotash, with two snapper fillets settled neatly on top.

Everything came together in about 15 minutes. I sauteed minced onion in butter, then threw in half-moons of zucchini and the shucked corn. After awhile, I tossed in the tomato, seeded and chopped. Then, a splash of white wine and some torn basil. Once the succotash was warm and seasoned to perfection, I scraped it into two shallow bowls, where the wine and butter formed a delicious little pool. Fried the snapper in a knob of butter and dinner was served.

Blackberry apricot crisp

In spite of my cake love, I do have eyes for other desserts.

There was that blueberry crostata recently. And then last weekend, there was a blackberry apricot crisp.

I admit, it's a bit much in the span of a few days. But in my defense, I had no intention of making this dessert. My original plan last friday, when we were hosting some friends for dinner, was to make the upside-down cake, but with apricots. I had all the ingredients ready, including a pyramid of rosy-hued apricots on the counter, when our guests offered to bring cupcakes from Miette. See ya later, apricots.

And then these lovely friends arrived not only with four gorgeous cupcakes, but with a little container of blackberries they had picked. What's a girl to do?

Well, first: wolf down delicately nibble a cupcake. Then: create something worthy of hand-picked blackberries, foraged by friends.

This whole idea of urban foraging (or in this case, suburban foraging) has become quite a thing. I myself have been eyeing the blackberry patch up at Tank Hill near our house, where they grow wild. I'm just waiting for them to reach the perfect state for plucking. In the meantime, Scott and Stephanie brought me blackberries from a bramble in Marin, where it's much sunnier and things ripen earlier.

I considered lush blackberry ice cream, or a simple blackberry sauce to go over ice cream (or roasted duck). In the end, I opted for blackberry apricot crisp, since I didn't want my apricots to go to waste. In addition to the surefire crostata I posted about recently, I have a nearly foolproof recipe for crisp that can be adapted for any fruit. I did once make it with rhubarb and strawberries, which turned out terribly. But I learned from that mistake, and this time, I added a little more tapioca to thicken the filling. That was just the ticket.

Here is the fruit, moments before a crumbly cinnamon and walnut topping rained down on it. If you don't feel like diving right in, you must be made of stone.

But it gets even better after the topping is sprinkled over and baked to golden goodness. At that point, the only thing that can improve the dessert is vanilla ice cream, which, it must be said, can improve just about anything.

And there you are. Thanks to the kindness of friends, summer in a bowl.

Blackberry apricot crisp

Adapted from Baking Illustrated

Topping:

6 T. flour

1/4 c. light brown sugar

1/4 c. granulated sugar

1/4 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. ground ginger

1/4 t. salt

5 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" pieces

3/4 c. coarsely chopped walnuts

Filling:

5-6 cups of blackberries and apricots (apricots pitted and sliced)

1/2 t. lemon zest

juice of 1/2 a lemon

1/4 c. granulated sugar (or more or less to taste)

1 T. quick-cooking tapioca

Place flour, sugars, spices, and salt in a food processor and process briefly to combine. Add butter and pulse 10 times for about 4 seconds each pulse. The mixture will first look like dry sand, with large lumps of butter, then like coarse cornmeal. Add the nuts and process again, four or five 1-second pulses. The topping should now look like slightly clumpy wet sand. Be sure not to overmix or the mixture will become too wet and homogeneous. Refrigerate topping while preparing the fruit, at least 15 minutes.

Adjust an oven rack to the lower-middle position and heat the oven to 375.

Toss all filling ingredients together in a medium bowl, then pour into an 8-inch square baking pan (or pie plate, like I used). 

Distribute the chilled topping evenly over the fruit. Bake for 40 minutes. Turn the heat up to 400 and bake for another 5 minutes or until the fruit is bubbling and the topping turns deep golden brown. Serve warm.

An (im)perfect blueberry crostata

Occasionally, a recipe enters my life for which I am supremely grateful.

Sometimes it's because the recipe, exactly as it's written, is perfection, such as Marcella Hazan's roasted chicken with two lemons, or Baking Illustrated's chocolate chip cookies. These are two recipes I will make my whole life.

Other recipes I love because they teach me a technique which I can then adapt to suit my whim. The raspberry buttermilk cake I've written about many a time is one such recipe. It's a good recipe--not necessarily a great one--but a good one that has simple ingredients, makes the right-sized cake for our household, and can take almost any kind of fruit, no matter what the season. The crostata I made recently is another such recipe.

I discovered it years ago and originally made it as written, with apples. But then I got tired of apples, so I moved on to pears. Pears gave way to pears-and-cranberries, which lead to straight-up cranberry crostata, and this week, I made it with blueberries.

I love the dough for two reasons: it comes together rapidly, and since it's a crostata, it's free-form. Maybe because I'm the daughter of an artist, or maybe because I lack the technical skills, I don't like rolling things out into perfect circles and tucking them tidily into pans. I like keeping it a little earthy and rustic. I'm OK with crust that's oblong instead of round, and 1/8" in some places and 1/4" in others. No one will ever accuse me of being a perfectionist, which is fine with me, because while I kind of admire perfectionists, as they seem so disciplined and focused while I'm haphazard and bedraggled, with flour on my face and blueberry juice on my t-shirt, I sometimes feel a little sorry for them too. There's something wonderful about embracing and not judging the messy but delicious results of your hard work.

I've found you can add nearly anything to the filling and even wing the amount of fruit, as long as you don't add too much. I've gotten overzealous with piling the fruit too high before and it's resulted in a runny crostata. Not only does this lead to a soggy crust, but it makes the pan a hassle to clean.

This time, I got it just right with the blueberries. I'm not sure how many I used. Maybe a couple of cups? I tossed them with a little sugar, lemon juice and zest, and a dash of almond extract. Simple, delicious, and summery.

I hope you try this recipe, using whatever fruit strikes your fancy. I don't think you'll be disappointed; after all, it's practically perfect.