ZUCCHINI & PERSIMMON AFTERNOON CAKE

Nate and I returned from a two week vacation to find that fall has arrived in Northern California. The maple leaves are turning shades of rust and gold and there are persimmons on our neighbor’s tree. Pumpkins perch on every other doorstep. Mornings feel hushed. It’s my happiest time of year and I retreat into sweaters and cups of tea.

Perhaps the most reliable signal in the change of weather was that I caught a vicious cold; a fate I suffer every year. While working in restaurants and catering there was no such thing as calling in sick. I would charge bullishly into work armed with kleenex and cold meds, “doubling down” on Emergen-C packets mixed in giant plastic quart containers. This year I folded. Blessed (or cursed) with a mostly freelance career I allowed myself to sink into the depths of sickness and my sheets. It was divine. 

Although it may look like fall here, we’ve only had a day or two that actually felt like fall with regard to the weather. One of these days happened to land on the first that I felt well enough to pull my groggy head from the covers and step back into the kitchen. After several days of soup and tea I suddenly felt hungry and quickly took survey of our refrigerator. I found the last of the summer squash, as well as the first of the persimmons. Forgotten during my sickness, the flesh beneath the shiny, jewel-toned skin had turned to mush. I thought about a cake someone once brought my mom during the holidays. A deep brown, dense, spicy persimmon cake. She kept it on a plate in a cupboard away from the dog’s reach, but she couldn’t hide it from me. Sneaking tiny slice by slice from its hiding spot, day after day, I ate until it was mostly gone. My mom pretended not to notice.

Looking back down at my zucchinis and mushy persimmons I decided cake was exactly what a sick girl needed, and set to work. 

ZUCCHINI & PERSIMMON AFTERNOON CAKE / Makes 1 loaf

This cake is not really like the one in my mom's cupboard, but it does have persimmons and it’s the perfect cozy thing to keep around the house when you need a pick-me-up.  It also has pecans and cinnamon, because the first day I made it I wanted my house to smell of them. Olive oil for flavor, but you could easily substitute vegetable oil. I imagine coconut oil, warmed to its liquid state, would also work well. Feel free to use only all-purpose flour, but the whole wheat mix does lend a certain nuttiness that I love. Nate likes his cake in the morning, plain with coffee. I like it toasted and smeared with goat's milk butter and big flakes of sea salt.

1-2 very ripe Hachiya persimmons
2 1/2 cups grated zucchini
1 cup sugar, divided
1 1/4 all-purpose flour
3/4 cup whole-wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 cup olive oil
2 eggs
1 heaping cup of chopped, toasted pecans
turbinado sugar, for topping

Preheat your oven to 350 F. Lightly grease and flour a 9x5" loaf pan.

Cut the tops off of your persimmons. Scoop out the ripe, jelly-like flesh with a spoon. Measure out 1/2 cup and set aside. 

Combine the zucchini with 1/4 cup of sugar in a large sieve or mesh colander and set over a larger bowl or the sink. Find a bowl slightly smaller than your colander and set on top of the zucchini. Press gently and let sit for 15 minutes or so, until much of the liquid from the zucchini has drained off. You can put some water in the smaller bowl to weight it down if you like - just be careful it doesn't slosh into the zucchini. 

Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt and spices and set aside. In a large bowl combine the olive oil, eggs, and the persimmon puree. Add the flour mixture in two parts, mixing until just combined and scraping down the sides of the bowl. Add the zucchini and two thirds of the pecans. 

Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan and top with the rest of the nuts and a generous sprinkling of turbinado sugar. Bake until the top is golden brown and a cake tester inserted in the middle comes out clean, about 55-65 minutes.

 

Honeyed Pluot & Thyme Galettes

Welcome to By Guess and By Golly, a project that has slowly evolved over the years and which I'm so excited to finally share here in this space. "By guess and by golly" is a phrase my grandmother used on me frequently and one that's become sort of a life motto. It means to learn by doing. Trial and error. Figuring it out as we go. She mostly used it in regards to cooking and recipes but I think it's a pretty dynamite philosophy for life in general. 

This year my husband and I are sharing our first year of marriage, living in our first house, raising our first puppy. We're living a lot by guess and by golly, which is both thrilling and terrifying. It also feels like a natural time to get this project going, if for no other reason than to have a creative outlet. Our home centers around our kitchen, so consequently this blog will mostly center around food - recipes, dishes, and meals to be shared with your loved ones. We'll sprinkle a few other things in here and there. I hope that there will be something here that resonates with you. Thanks for following along.

HONEYED PLUOT & THYME GALETTES
This is late summer at it's very finest. It was a total accident that evolved out of a lazy moment when I couldn't be bothered to go ahead with a full pie. You can substitute other stone fruit like plums or late-season nectarines, or figs. Choose a neutral flavored honey like clover to let the flavor of the fruit and wine come through. Or, forget everything I said and choose something herbaceous like lavender or sage honey to add another level of flavor. 

Pastry
1 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons pastry flour
1 tablespoon cane sugar
pinch of kosher salt
3/4 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces and chilled until very cold
1/4 to 1/3 cup very cold water

Filling
1.5 pounds firm but ripe pluots
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons port wine
splash of balsamic vinaigrette
pinch of kosher salt
leaves from 4-5 sprigs of fresh thyme, plus extra sprigs for garnish

Assembly
1 egg yolk whisked with 1 tablespoon heavy cream (optional)
turbinado sugar

Make the pastry. Mix together the pastry flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Add the cold butter pieces and toss in flour mixture. Using your hands and moving quickly to keep the butter cold, work the butter into the flour mixture. I find it helpful to "squish" the butter between my thumbs and forefingers into flake-like pieces. Continue working with your hands until the mixture is crumbly; you'll still have some bigger pieces of butter remaining. Alternately, you can us a food processor and pulse just a few times. Slowly drizzle the water in a tablespoon at a time until the mixture just comes together when you press it with the palm of your hand. You may use slightly less or more water. Gather dough into a flat disc and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes and up to 3 days. 

While the pastry is chilling preheat your oven to 400F and make the filling. Slice pluots into 1/4-inch wedges and place in a large bowl. In a small bowl whisk together the honey, wine, balsamic vinaigrette, salt and thyme. Pour over the pluots. 

Divide the chilled dough into 6 equal pieces. On a floured board roll each piece into a circle about 1/4-inch thick and transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Arrange the pluot slices in a pretty pattern in the center of each dough circle, leaving a 1-inch border. Pour any remaining honey mixture over the pluots. Fold or pleat the dough over the filling, pressing to adhere. Brush the dough with egg wash (if using) and sprinkle with turbinado sugar. 

Chill galettes for 10 minutes prior to baking to set the dough. Bake at 400F for 15 minutes, rotate, and decrease temperature to 375F for remaining 20-25 minutes, or until pastry is golden browned and juices are bubbling. 

Serve warm or room temperature and garnish with freshly whipped cream and thyme. 

Yields 6 galettes