Popovers with
Strawberry Conserves
Popping Fresh

My mother believed that three practical skills were essential for all civilized human beings regardless of gender: cooking, sewing, and something I can’t remember (so I'm probably not as civilized as she would wish). Consequently I was the one who sewed all the badges on my scout uniforms and at one point I borrowed a sewing machine, learned to use it, and made curtains for a house I rented, I even got hooked on embroidery, briefly, in my late 20s and did some small pieces as gifts (I think I still have a half-finished dragon and a rather tacky parrot in a basket somewhere). There's something indefinably soothing about embroidery and if I had any sense I'd cook a bit less and sew more. But I don't.
Cooking really stuck. When I was about six she taught me to make Jello, eventually I graduated to making brownies and the like from mixes and by the time I was 14 I was cooking entire meals on occasion. Today I make my living cooking (and writing about cooking and food issues).
Perhaps this isn't surprising because she is a skilled and accomplished teacher (she taught at the University of Tennessee while I was growing up) as well an accomplished and skilled cuisinier. So I learned as much from her failures as her successes — because she insisted.
When I was a child we would sit down to a meal and rave about it. In response she'd note how she'd subbed skim milk for half and half because that's what she had and the dish should have been richer had she used half and half. I suspect that was largely a way of deflecting complements, but in doing so she taught me to examine my cooking critically. And over time, I learned her particular cooking faults and how to avoid them.
As usual, this Mother's Day, I fixed brunch. We had Cheshire quiche, asparagus with Mayonnaise Nicoise, and popovers with strawberry conserves and Devon Cream, It was all good, but the popovers and conserves were especially tasty. Mouth-achingly good.
My mother believed that three practical skills were essential for all civilized human beings regardless of gender: cooking, sewing, and something I can’t remember (so I'm probably not as civilized as she would wish). Consequently I was the one who sewed all the badges on my scout uniforms and at one point I borrowed a sewing machine, learned to use it, and made curtains for a house I rented, I even got hooked on embroidery, briefly, in my late 20s and did some small pieces as gifts (I think I still have a half-finished dragon and a rather tacky parrot in a basket somewhere). There's something indefinably soothing about embroidery and if I had any sense I'd cook a bit less and sew more. But I don't.
Cooking really stuck. When I was about six she taught me to make Jello, eventually I graduated to making brownies and the like from mixes and by the time I was 14 I was cooking entire meals on occasion. Today I make my living cooking (and writing about cooking and food issues).
Kissing don't last; cookery do! ~ George Meredith
There's a certain hubris in cooking a special meal (as I have each Mother's Day for years) for the woman who taught me to cook. Simultaneously, it is entirely appropriate to present your mentor, the master you learned from, with your best efforts. And, in fact, I'm a better cook than she is.Perhaps this isn't surprising because she is a skilled and accomplished teacher (she taught at the University of Tennessee while I was growing up) as well an accomplished and skilled cuisinier. So I learned as much from her failures as her successes — because she insisted.
When I was a child we would sit down to a meal and rave about it. In response she'd note how she'd subbed skim milk for half and half because that's what she had and the dish should have been richer had she used half and half. I suspect that was largely a way of deflecting complements, but in doing so she taught me to examine my cooking critically. And over time, I learned her particular cooking faults and how to avoid them.
As usual, this Mother's Day, I fixed brunch. We had Cheshire quiche, asparagus with Mayonnaise Nicoise, and popovers with strawberry conserves and Devon Cream, It was all good, but the popovers and conserves were especially tasty. Mouth-achingly good.
Strawberry ConservesThese are the best popovers I've ever eaten, the butter adds richness and tones down the strong eggy flavor most popovers have.
Makes 1 pint.
1 lb strawberries
1 c sugar — separated
1/4 c Cointreau
Wash and stem strawberries. Cut berries in half or quarters (depending on size) place in a bowl and mix in 1/2 cup sugar and Cointreau. Cover and leave sitting on counter for 24 hours. Stir once or twice.
Pour juice into a small sauce pan over low heat and add remaining sugar. Heat, stirring frequently, for 10 minutes. Add berries and simmer for 30 minutes. Cool and pour into a sterile jar.
Butter Popovers
Makes six large popovers or 12 small.
<1 c Wondra flour (must be Wondra)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp sugar
1 c whole milk — at room temperature
2 eggs — at room temperature
4 tbsp butter — melted
Heat oven to 425F 30 minutes in advance. Place one oven rack on the bottom level and the other on the second level (this avoids having the popover rising into the other rack).
In a large bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and sugar. Slowly add milk using an electric mixer on low. Add eggs one at a time, thoroughly mixing after each addition. Add two tablespoons of butter to batter. Transfer to pitcher for pouring.
Brush popover cups with butter then distribute remaining butter evenly among the cups.
Heat popover pan in oven for 3 minutes. Fill each cup halfway with batter.
Cook popovers on the second rack for 15 minutes then reduce heat to 350F and continue cooking 20 - 35 minutes until well puffed and brown. Do not open oven for at least the first 20 minutes. Six - 10 minutes before popovers are done, use a small, sharp knife to poke a slit in the top of each popover ad allow steam to escape.
When done, remove popovers from the pan and cool on a rack.
Adapted from The Bread Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum.
Technorati: Food | recipe | popovers | bread | strawberries
Labels: bread, food, recipe, strawberries








11 Comments:
Wow. Simply Wow.
Donna,
These are the best popovers I'd ever had. Most have a strong eggy flavor, but it's more muted in these.
Wow, these look amazing! Is there a special popover pan necessary, or would a muffin tin do?
Rose,
A muffin pan works. Only fill the cups halfway.
Kevin! Cooking, sewing, and putting the lid down.
Ok this has inspired me (a non-baker) to try pop-overs. But the Conserves recipe has Cointreau in the ingredients but not in the recipe. When do you add it?
CC,
I do put the lid down, but that wasn't my mother's training. My ex-wife got upset when I did't put the seat down, but why should I put the seat down when she doesn't lifet the seat? So lid down -- that way we both start from the same position.
Those pop-overs look awesome! I may just have to give them a try.
Are you sure you are a better cook than your mom? She may be holding out so that you do the cooking~ Mom's can be smart that way!
To2sassy,
Thanks for catching that -- recipe corrected. Add the Cointreau when you begin macerating the strawberries.
I had some amazing fresh strawberry jam & biscuits the other day that had me all fired up to make some as well.
But now... I've never made conserves OR popovers, and they look so wonderful!
S'kat,
Those are the best popovers I've ever had.
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