Simple summer cake

It's been a sombre summer in Australia. Here in Sydney, we're safe from the fires but have been under a thick cloud of smoke since November. That's nothing to complain about compared to the rural and coastal communities north and south of us who've borne the brunt of this climate crisis but I lately haven't felt much like baking or writing about it. With all the footage of fires, and daily reminders of the devastation (awaking to ash blown in with the wind, birds flying indoors in search of water, a blood red sun, people in masks in the streets), it's impossible to be unaffected emotionally by all this. Baking has always been something that makes me feel better. So in an effort to do that recently I made this simple summer cake. I'm glad I did. For the short time it took to make it felt good to be doing something normal when the world right now feels anything but. In times like these it's important to be grateful for the small things. So make cake, share it with people you love, and start a conversation about what you can do.

Baked nectarines with almond crumble

I wasn't going to post anything this week. Somehow rambling on about food didn't seem appropriate in light of the sad events in Sydney of late. It's been a sombre start to summer here, first with the death of cricketer Phillip Hughes during play at the SCG, and this week, the siege at the Lindt cafe in the city. I found myself in tears at each of these tragic events, but the show of humanity in the aftermath of both had the same effect - from cricket bats left outside houses, to the #illridewithyou campaign to show solidarity with Muslims. That's life really - awful and beautiful all at once - and regardless of which end of the spectrum you're at, you've got to eat. And if you've got to eat, it may as well be something good. So here I am, rambling on about food. Summer fruit is, in my opinion, the best thing about summer. Mangoes, peaches, plums, apricots, cherries, nectarines... They don't need a thing done to them really - they're magnificent all on their own - which is lucky because usually it's so hot that the last thing you feel like doing in summer is cooking. This recipe allows the fruit to shine, and keeps you from getting shiny under a film of sweat in the kitchen. Just a few ingredients combined for a dessert to celebrate all the good (and goods) of summer. 

Stone fruit skillet streusel pie

 

In another life, I'd live in the country and I'd make pie. There'd be no deadlines, no peak hour traffic, just berries and quiet and time to work on the perfect crust. But in this life, the one I have right now, I have a new cookbook, and old friends to feed pie I make from it. Part of the reason I love travelling in the States so much I'll wager, is my proximity to pie. On this recent trip, I managed to eat quite a lot of it (though it's never enough).  

I didn't get to the east coast this time round - my nightmare travel scenario are those images on the news of people sleeping in airports below banks of screens of cancelled flights so I deliberately avoided any area with snow, which proved wise given the polar vortex - but next time I do, I'll be sure to stop in at Four and Twenty Blackbirds, a pie place in Brooklyn, run by two sisters from North Dakota. They just published a cookbook, named for their store, and this weekend, in the midst of a mountain of work, it seemed a good time to christen it. This particular recipe had many things going for it. One, it was made in a cast-iron skillet, my all-time favourite piece of cooking equipment. Two, it involved summer fruit, which is currently at its peak here in the southern hemisphere. And three, anything with a streusel topping is a sure-fire crowd pleaser and an easy out for an over-stressed pie maker, who doesn't have the time for double crusts, fancy crimping or lattice tops.

Having returned from my trip more than a week ago now, I can't quite blame jet lag, but I confess I completely botched the crust by mistaking my 1/3 cup measure for my 1/4 one when parcelling out the dry ingredients. When the dough was chilling in the fridge and I was washing up, I realised I'd made a mistake but was reluctant to waste what I'd made. So I persevered with dough that was obviously too dry. Though it was significantly less malleable than it would have been in the correct proportions, it still tasted great, the cornmeal adding a wonderful texture to something so traditionally staid. And the filling! Oh my. You could use any combination of stone fruit you like but I've got a particular fondness for plums and nectarines, especially when their juices turn dramatically red and bubble up through the cracks in the crumbly streusel. Whatever the life you have or aspire to have, pie is possible. Right now. What are you waiting for?