Grape Expectations

Is it possible we find ourselves at summer’s end once more?  I’m shocked every year when it happens.  Another summer has flown by, the heat breaking to let the warm days and cool nights of September move across the threshold.  Everyone is out at Washington Square Park trying to soak up those last few rays of strong sun before fall classes hit high gear for the incoming NYU students.  Jazz is playing throughout the park; people relaxed in conversation, reading books or sleeping on the lawn as acorns rain down from above, squirrels beginning their cold weather food storage.  It’s a perfect day, a very different day from those in the past week full of rain and wind from hurricane Irene.

The hurricane is all anyone would or could talk about last week, it was the only thing that seemed to matter, and although I didn’t want to play into the hype it was nigh on impossible to escape from the doomsayers and forecasters appearing on every channel twenty-four hours a day.  To have a hurricane hit New York City is a big deal; an unheard of circumstance and my parents were lucky enough to come for a visit on such a historic and bizarre weekend.  Never before has the city shut down all its public transportation and evacuated low-lying areas of the 5 boroughs.  Even our town of Ossining declared a state of emergency, not allowing anyone to drive on the roads after 6pm the night the storm entered the area.  I have been through two hurricanes in the past and I wasn’t looking forward to a third. 

What I was looking forward to was my parent’s visit.  The last time they saw Siena she was only three weeks old and obviously a lot has changed since then.  She has become a person all her own, complete with a couple of teeth breaking through the surface of her lower gums.  She has become somewhat mobile and able to sit on her own, full of charming smiles for all and I wanted Grandma and Grandpa to get to experience this while she’s at such a cute age.  I had been planning their visit for sometime and had a list of activities scheduled for the big weekend, but unfortunately Irene had plans of her own.  Life happens while you’re planning it, right?

Last week was a strange one in general.  Not only was there a hurricane but also the aftershocks of an earthquake in Virginia could be felt in NYC.  I was sitting at my desk working like usual when I felt some serious foot tapping.  You know the kind if you ever sat somewhere with a wooden floor and someone close by is incessantly tapping his or her foot while they work.  I know it so well because its something I do from time to time myself, but I digress.  I was sitting at my desk becoming momentarily annoyed with the tapping and turned around to see who was doing it.  No feet appeared to be moving.  The shaking kept going and seemed to get a little stronger and I thought maybe people were moving large objects across the floor in the office above us but that didn’t seem quite right either.  By this time everyone in the office was looking around and a slight alarm bell went off inside.  I looked at the bay of windows and door leading out to the balcony over which an exit sign is stationed.  It was vigorously swaying back and forth.  I knew this wasn’t right.  Along about this time the owner asked us to calmly evacuate.

The whole building was trying to casually flee down the stairs, not knowing what the heck was going on but hoping for nothing terrible or extreme.  By the time we were outside and found out what had really happened, everything was calm again.  People walking around outside didn’t even feel a thing and I guess the higher up you were in a building the more you felt the movement.  We are luckily on the fourth floor and not any higher.  I wouldn’t have wanted to be visiting the Empire State Building that day.

After that, a hurricane didn’t seem quite implausible… ludicrous, maybe, but not impossible.  It seemed especially nuts when the mayor made storm evacuations necessary and decided to shut down mass transit.  It meant something and was a little scary.  My parents not afraid of a little weather, especially considering all the tornadoes in the Midwest this year went ahead with their trek, and we tried to make the most of it.  Although I wanted to do lots of outdoor activities, the real reason for the visit was to see Siena (and us) so as long as we got to do things together it was okay.

The Friday they arrived was nice and warm and sunny, the way an August Friday afternoon should be.  While Brian and Siena entertained them, visiting the High Line, an above ground bridge/railroad track running along a portion of the West Side of the city recently turned into a park, I finished my work week so we could go home and get ready for the weather craziness everyone was talking about.  Trying to leave the city by regular means was an act of patience.  What normally is an hour drive to get home along the West Side Highway turned into a two-hour plus journey through the center of the city along Broadway (the West Side Highway was ridiculously jammed) until we got up past the George Washington Bridge and could escape Manhattan.  Everyone had hurricane fever and it was taking nearly an hour to get through tunnels and across the main bridges.  The whole situation reeked of people who had seen too many disaster films.

Saturday dawned with some clouds and drizzle already beginning.  I had hoped to take a trip to Stone Barns that day, taking Siena to visit all the animals and go for a walk through the woods.  I called to see if they were open, but was told in jest they were worried about flying sheep harming their guests and had decided to remain closed to the public until the storm had passed.  Strike one!  Our plan B was to drive up north to West Point Military Academy to check out the grounds and museum.  My step dad, Randy, was in the military and is quite the weaponry buff.  This seemed like an interesting place to take him. 

Most of the grounds are closed to the public, but there is a visitor’s center and museum where you can take self guided tours.  Though the visitor’s center didn’t hold a lot of interest for anyone, the war/military museum had quite a few fascinating items, even for someone such as myself who has never done more than shoot a bb gun as a kid (and even then I was afraid I might actually kill something).   The museum had many paintings of famous generals depicted in battle scenes; most were thoughtfully and carefully crafted.  Several were so vibrant and full of color, discovering my favorites oftentimes being created by French landscape painters of the 19th century.  But one of the most unexpected spaces was the basement.

The West Point basement is full of big old guns, the kind you might find on a pirate ship or from the civil war.  Cannons of every shape and size were represented along with several different tanks and a hydrogen bomb.  The old cannons fascinated me most.  The rustic quality and worn down patina they had was somehow romantic.  I’m sure the wars they were in weren’t particularly charming, but thinking of the historic time frame in which they had taken place had the nostalgic quality that gets me every time.  Randy seemed to enjoy himself and we all learned a little bit as we moved through the levels of corridors lined with guns and knives and every sort of fighting device and uniform you can think of.

After that we made an attempt to go shopping for baby clothes at the mall, but all the stores were closing early so that the employees could get home before the curfew began.  We swung by the grocery store on our way home, giving in somewhat to all the pandemonium being proclaimed on the television and radio, stopping for emergency supplies in case we lost power for several days and had to “rough” it.  I have never seen the grocery store so full of people and the shelves so empty.   There was hardly any bottled water to be found and the bread isle was just as bleak.  I began to think maybe I should start cooking as much food as I could in preparation for an onslaught.  Our stove is gas, so I figured should the power go out I would still be able to make things, and of course bake.  I wanted to be out of the store, though, because all the panicked people were making me feel a little nutty.  I grabbed some essentials, including a bag of the first round of golden New York apples arrived for the pre-harvest season.  You can always bake something if you have a stocked pantry and some kind of fruit.  I was set.

It’s good to start “apple dessert” exploration a little early.  When the apples really start coming on in late September/early October and there is an overabundance I find it nice to have a recipe or two at the ready to know what to do with them.  I decided to get creative and paired the apples with grapes, making individual apple grape crumbles, the topping studded with freshly grated nutmeg and Chinese Five Spice powder.   Much to the excitement of everyone waiting out the storm, they were a pleasant and fragrant distraction.  The recipe is as follows:

Apple and Grape Crumbles

Ingredients:

For the fruit:

2 pounds Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored and sliced fairly thin (1/4 inch)

2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (from one lemon)

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (from one lemon)

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4-cup all-purpose flour

2 cups mixed red and green grapes, sliced in half

For the crumble:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2-cup light brown sugar, lightly packed

1-teaspoon kosher salt

1/2-teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder

1/4 pound (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, diced

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a large bowl combine sliced apples, lemon zest, lemon juice, granulated sugar, and flour.  Toss well.  Gently mix in the grapes.  Allow the mixture to sit for 5 minutes.  Spoon the mixture into ramekins or custard cups (6 to 8 depending on the size).

For the topping, combine the flour, granulated sugar, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, Chinese five-spice powder, and the butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment.  Mix on low speed until the butter is the size of peas.  Rub the mixture with your fingertips until it’s in big crumbles, and then sprinkle evenly over the fruit.  Place the ramekins on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper and bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until the tops are browned and crisp and the juices are bubbly.  Serve warm or at room temperature.

If you want to make these early, store the unbaked crumbles in the refrigerator and bake before dinner.

Crumbles and cobblers are a simple, easy to please dessert anyone can make.  I know my parents like a good, traditional dessert and though adding grapes seemed like a wacky thing to do, they really are a great addition.  The flavor, though not quite like raisins, are also not quite “grape” either.  Cooking the grapes enhances their flavor, a slight caramelization taking place making it not the fruit it once was, but something altogether different and refreshing.  The spices in the topping speak to the fall season headed our way.  This is a perfect finish to any meal that won’t keep you in the kitchen for long at all…especially if you want to be glued to CNN waiting for your power to go out.

I was inspired and happened to have the grapes on hand because of a bread I made earlier in the week.  The September 2011 Everyday Food has a recipe for Almond-Grape Tea Cake and the bread, which is studded with red and green grape halves, looked very seventies to me.  The vibrant color of the grapes against the golden crust had a whimsical look, but also the controlled design of basic pattern making.  I hadn’t previously used grapes in my baking, but had noticed from time to time recipes for grape tarts or pies, generally using grape jam as the filling or reducing the grapes in a saucepot to make compote.  Keeping the grape halves intact was a simple twist and one I felt like exploring.

The bread is fairly dense because of the large quantity of almonds used.  They are ground up in a food processor along with sugar to make what is essentially almond “flour”.  If you have ever tried to buy almond flour at the supermarket you know that its expensive, and when it’s this easy to make your own I suggest doing it if for no other reason than to save a little money for your pocket. 

Both of these grape enhanced desserts were very easy, and that’s the kind of recipes I like to go for when I’m doing a weekend of entertaining.  The Barefoot Contessa is fond of saying “you and your guests won’t have more fun if you spend the entire weekend in the kitchen preparing meals”, and she’s right.  Elegant dinners and “fancy” desserts are often best left for big celebrations or small get-togethers.  Spending as much time with your guests as possible while still offering simpler foods, lovingly made is the best way to be hospitable.  So, while we munched on our dressed up pasta dishes and fruit crumbles we obsessively watched the news and waited for mass destruction to fall upon our heads.  “Goodnight cruel world”.

Almond-Grape Tea Cake (from Everyday Food, September 2011)

Ingredients:

10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan

1-cup all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled), plus more for pan

3/4-cup sugar

3 large eggs

1 1/2 cups slivered almonds (1/2 pound)

1/4-teaspoon fine salt

1-teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest

18 grapes, halved crosswise (red and green)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Lightly butter and flour a 3-by-8-inch metal loaf pan.  In a large bowl, using n electric mixer, beat butter and 1/2 sugar on high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.  Beat in eggs, one at a time, until combined, scraping down bowl as needed.  In a food processor, pulse almonds and 1/4-cup sugar until finely ground.  Add flour and salt and pulse to combine.  With mixer on low, beat almond mixture into butter mixture until combined.  Beat in vanilla and lemon zest.

Transfer batter to pan and smooth top.  Press grape halves into batter in rows and bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out with a few moist crumbs attached, about 1 hour, rotating pan halfway through.  Let cake cool in pan on a wire rack.  To serve, remove cake from pan and slice. (Store cooled cake, wrapped in plastic, at room temperature, up to 3 days.)

We awoke to the sound of wind and rain beating upon the windows, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as the air conditioning units still running in the windows.  We hadn’t lost power!!!  Overnight the storm had been downgraded to “tropical” and our house; being well above the river was taking no more of a beating than an average heavy rain.  We were saved!!!  And that’s good because the people painting our house had literally finished up two days before. 

Prior to the storm our house was in desperate need of a facelift.   If you own an old home then you understand the maintenance and responsibility that comes along with becoming its caretaker.  There is a new project constantly in need of doing, be it a simple update or replacing old wiring and plumbing.  We had put off painting the house for a couple of years for the obvious reason of expense.  An old Victorian has a lot of details and in our case is extremely tall.  There were four colors on our little gingerbread house when we bought it, but we decided to take it down to three to tighten things up a bit. 

I’ve always liked the orange of our house.  I never imagined myself living in an orange house with forest green trim, but it somehow fits.  Brian and I both have a passion for grey and had been talking for some time about freshening up the house, keeping the orange but punching it up a bit.  The green trim made me feel like Hansel and Gretel might stop by at any moment to ask for a cookie to which I would be forced in turn to bake them in my oven to keep in line with the story, but replacing the green with grey seemed a clean, modern addition to our home without losing the historic feel.  It took the painting company nearly a month, on and off, between rains and carpenters replacing rotted boards to pull off the feat.  I absolutely love it!

Irene left “Charlotte”…the name of our house…unscathed.  I found a few downed branches and green oak leaves were scattered all over the back yard, but other than that we were none too worse for wear.  Unfortunately I can’t say that for everyone in towns surrounding us.  The family and I decided to get out of the house and go for a drive, being released from lockdown by the town, to cure the mild stir-crazy feelings that came from being stuck in the house for almost 24 hours.  Plus, I was curious to see how bad things really were.  The news said it may look nice outside right now, but it’s best to stay home and let clean-up crews go about their business, especially with all the downed trees and flooding going on.  We, of course, in a spirit of adventurousness ignored the news anchors we were so tired of listening to and set off for adventure.

Driving north along the very raised Hudson River we made our way past Peekskill and across Bear Mountain Bridge.  Our thought was to make our way toward Beacon, a cute, artsy river town to see if any stores or restaurants might be open.  The drive to the bridge is a beautiful and winding stretch of road leading into the mountains and along the cliffs looking over the river.  There is a great scenic area to stop and look out at the water and farmland, also where you can catch a glimpse of Indian Point nuclear power facility (not so glamorous).  Waterfalls had sprung up everywhere as if by magic, running down the sides of the cliffs overhanging the highway causing us to feel like (according to Brian) we had entered an Irish Spring commercial.  The light from the sun occasionally peaking through the still cloudy sky glinted off the water, revealing sparkly mists as we drove by and underneath the flow.

Stopping at Fort Montgomery, a small outpost/heritage site near the bridge, I got out to take a better look at the water.  A small trail led down to a footbridge crossing the Hudson and leading off into the forest.  Making my way down the trail was like scaling a waterfall.  The water was pouring out from the ground, down the side of the hill, running off to catch all it’s friends in the swiftly moving stream.  Things didn’t look particularly bad from the footbridge but the water was definitely rising.

Continuing north we finally made it to a place where the road was closed and traffic was backing up.  The radio had proclaimed many highways and the interstate closed due to flooding.  Turning around we thought to find an alternate route to Beacon, but again no dice.  Road closed.  Strike Two!  We turned off into a small town with the goal of getting some coffee before completely giving up our adventure and returning home, but found the town had no power and a massive run-off stream flowed through the center of it all as citizens gathered around to watch.  It appeared as if only a short time before the town’s Main Street had been under water.  Strike three, you’re out!

The scene was much the same all the way home.  We tried a few more alternate roads for a change of scenery but found bridges covered in water and the small streams normally lapping lazily along the roads had overflowed their banks placing forests in the middle of swiftly moving new rivers.  It was pretty bad out there.  As if to have one last hurrah, the wind picked up as Irene left the area bringing down more branches and tipping over trees that had soft, mushy soil running around their roots.  But, thankfully the storm went away leaving Ossining merely shaken up and the train station a little worse for wear.

All the public transportation in NYC came back online by Monday, but the Metro North train lines hadn’t fared quite as well.  Between the absence of mass transit out of Ossining and most major highways flooded leading into the city and my parents flight plans being moved to the following day it seemed a good time to take a day off from work and regroup.  We chose to get out of the house once more since the sun was out and about, a cool breeze blowing on a beautiful August day.  The highway heading south was open, having been cleared of all the downed trees, and we were able to make it to Tarrytown for lunch and a nice bit of window-shopping.  The Main Street of Tarrytown is so cute with its antique shops, restaurants and a parlor full of homemade ice cream.  After such a storm as this, I felt it necessary to distress with a loaded hot fudge sundae.

The rest of my parents visit was uneventful, in a good way…I mean how can you have much more going on than a hurricane?  Finishing off with a late afternoon stroll through town and grilling a few hotdogs in the backyard brought our number of outdoor activities to an acceptable level, alleviating my cabin fever and weather disappointment once and for all.  I think we made the best of the situation and Siena got to have four people looking after her full-time instead of two, something I know she loved.  It won’t be until November until she gets to see Grandma and Grandpa again, but Thanksgiving will be here before you know it.  If I’ve learned anything about having a child it’s that time goes even faster than it ever did before.  I’m looking forward to the milestones ahead, but also already miss how teeny-tiny Siena was.  She’s still small, no doubt, but her personality is big.  I wonder how she comes by that?  I think I have a couple of guesses.  It’s just who I am.